From the very moment he had taken up his vows as Lord Paladin, Aetheor had been indoctrinated to know no fear. No pain, at least in the mental or emotional sense. He had stared down demons, hunted witches, and burned the impure and terrorizing creatures of the night, with no hesitation, regret, or regard to his own life. His true purpose in life was to protect the weak and serve Heaven's will.

However, after happening upon the image of the god of destruction, he felt a very unfamiliar chill run up his spine. The beast was evil, more evil than whatever heretic or naysayer that he had burned and destroyed, more frightening than the worst, most horrid nightmare.

The battle had worn him down tremendously; actively fighting in full plate armor, carrying a powerful and heavy warhammer, was very taxing on the body, and he found that every time he crushed a skull of the enemy, it was just a little harder to raise his weapon once more.

However, his duty rested above all things. He must eliminate evil where it resides; he must protect the weak with his blood and soul. His hearing began to dull as he realized what he must do. Somewhere in the back of his head, he could hear Commander Johanna calling to him, telling him to retreat. However, he knew what he must do, despite his slim-to-none chances. Breathing deep, focusing his thoughts and strength, he slowly stepped into the path of the beast. He fixed it with a cold, stony gaze, his emotionless expression completely hiding his inner feelings. Raising his hammer and pointing it towards Alucard, he called out a challenge.

"Beast of destruction, harbinger of evil and death, hear me now. I am Aetheor Aelas, First Paladin of the Church of Sargenti. As a righteous individual, I cannot let you take another step; you threaten the lives of the weak and innocent, those whom I have sworn to protect with the steel of my soul and the blood of my body. Spawn of sorrow and pain....Witness the Judgement of the Righteous!" Aetheor's voice boomed as he invoked the powers granted to him by Heaven. For a brief moment, his eyes flashed golden and a white halo appeared above his head. The halo expanded, and circled and panned over his body before disappearing. The fear in his heart dispelled by his own magic, he charged, mighty warhammer raised, his voice hoarse and full of righteous fury.

((OOC: No real idea where Im going with this, I figure I havent been around so I might as well be a little dramatic. )

Before he could give the order to attack the enemy the enemy had already fled. It was one strange event after the other, but nothing took the cake faster then the strange being that had entered the city. Kharlen could tell this would trouble, just the sight of the... ogre. He gave one order he thought he would never have to. The true display of power that frightened him was the ogres ability to wipe out its own kind without even touching them.

"Retreat at once! If you value your lives you'll gather your families and flee." Each soldier looked at him, horrified as much as the next. Yet they questioned the order. "Forget about the city and leave."

Though he didn't have anything himself, he still had his men to think about. "I'm leaving as soon as I can. I hope to see each and every one of you on the outside." The display by the Paladin was mighty but foolish, but he paid no mind. "Holy warriors, your only destiny is death. Your faith has betrayed you flee the city now!" And with that he would flee the city, the only thing hanging heavily in his mind was the lives of those who served in his squadron.

The werewolf, its muzzle dripping with gore and intestines and other various things that looked better inside the bodies he had liberated them from, looked around quizzically, all of its former opponents deserting the battlefield. The smells of burning ogre wafted through its manifold nasal folds, a horrible concoction that caused the beast to retch through the bile clotting his fur.

As the humans and subhumans and kenders poured past, the werewolf dug its claws into the closest wall, quickly scaling the structure and surveying the battle from a height. The epicenter of the horrid stench was a completely ethereal sensation to the strong of nose, mixtures of troll being overpowered by an enormous...hatred, or perhaps insanity, some emotion wrought into physical sense.

Below it, a more glaring sensation; silver and righteousness. A foolhardy sense of glory, even the simpleminded thought process of a werewolf could determine this battle's outcome. The creature began to turn away before halting, turning back to face his new, forced upon, pack member. Whimpering against its baser instincts, it hunches back, launching itself from the rooftop. Along its flightpath its legs audibly retract with a loud series of creaks and snaps, and as it lands on all fours it is now fully wolf, albeit one big enough to rival a small horse.

Situating itself quickly between the paladin and the literal physical god, the wolf's guttural growl demanded attention. Staring into the eyes of the paladin, or at least averting its gaze from the painful silver glare, the wolf beckoned to its back.

The battle was dying down, and though the pall of death and destruction was still in the air, Alucard's connection to his power was dwindling, slowly but surely. He still held the power he needed for now, but the arrow should not have reached him. The joy of destruction, the thrill of power, and the elation of death left him as his waning strength brought to the forefront of his mind what he had come here for.

A hand, with claws now barely visible, reached up to wipe away a bit of his own, blue tinted, blood away from his cheek, as the paladin spoke. Before Alucard could react to the man, however, the world about them both changed in ways divine. The work of a Faerie Dragon. As a god Alucard had no trouble seeing through the glamour of a mere Fae Dragon, nor was he at all disillusioned to where it came from.

In other times Alucard would have toyed with the paladin and the dragon, let them believe they had a chance, and then killed them slowly. These were not other times, however, and the god of destruction needed to continue moving.

Not kill paladin? Narg questioned mentally--the first thought from the troll in many hours, as its consciousness slowly waned into non-existence.

Of course we will kill him. I merely lack the time to properly enjoy it.

The paladin lifted his warhammer over his head and charged the half-troll half-god, as the creature spread its arms wide. Then there was a howling. A shriek of of unearthly pain that echoed throughout the entirity of the city. It was as a banshee's wail, carrying with it all the pains of life and pains that the living could not imagine, yet it was not the avatar of destruction that made the noise, nor the paladin. It was the dead screeching in pain as they were drawn about the creature of death, forming a cloak of screaming souls all around Alucard, their pain immutable as their souls were ripped asunder by his magics.

Then they were drawn into Alucard's arms as he forced them before him, taking advantage of the werewolf's distraction. In the next instant the wolf knew only pain as the souls of the dead tore through his flesh and mind, sending him hurtling into the silver armored paladin. At the connection the souls pain and rage flooded into the paladin as well, and both were flung down the road away from the god of destruction, left as a smoking pile of charred and burning flesh.

The god beast continued onward toward the epicenter of the city, leaving the two for dead, and not particularly caring for their survival. He had other objectives.

(OOC: You aren't dead, but Lumen, you're in reaaaaally bad shape, and Aethor is unconscious. It'll be a few days before you're healed, Lum)

"Stay your tounge, half-blood!" Asidhara snapped back at Kay, but her attention was immediately taken by the Xodar's insistance. "I... I don't know. In ages past, we sealed him with a powerful geomantic binding, but... the specifics are beyond me." Her voice took on a tone of crackling, candleflame incredulousness, "But now the humans have taken over, and those wards are null and void! And now Alucard is back and the world will burn to ash!"

About this time, Alucard obliterated Jack, and tossed a Werewolf at the paladin, Aetheor. From this distance, all three seemed to have been killed instantly. All formidible warriors.

"Stop, look!" She hissed, pointing at the unfolding spectacle with the utmost seriousness. "Witness that? That takes rare power!"

It wasn't often one saw a faerie noble consumed with such bedlam-induced namelessness, utterly devoid of anything resembling courage, but none unreasonable. She quickly recovered, bolstered by those surrounding her, and by the fact that Alucard was still far away.

"We watch, and wait. Figure out what he wants, what he's looking for, and find a way to prevent it." Her voice goes low, and uncertain, "Did it before, there has to be a way..."

Kharlen watched from a distance as some creature was thrown at the foolhardy paladin, both ending up on the ground. "See what your blind faith has lead you to do? You should have heeded my warning." He moved through all the gate and around the corpses. Obviously if anyone were to look he'd be the easiest to spot. "Is there anyone left amongst this pile of corpses that would still have a pulse? If so come to me for your next instructions."

Vlad had started started running as soon as Alucard had broken that barrier. His pleasant viewing of two lovely meals had been ruined by the thoughts of death and destruction that poured out of this creatures mind. It was such a frightening pretense that Vlad simply bolted from his building without hesitation. He didn't even bother to hide his light manipulation, in fear that a moment of concentration to do so may lead to his demise. So he simply ran in the other direction as a shadow.

"Oh dear," Anim murmured as the foolhardy, yet strangely brave, Paladin was hit full force by the tossed werewolf. He drew his claymore, more for comfort than actual protection. "Commander, should we do something?" he asked, gesturing towards the Paladin and werewolf. "They were our comrades, after all."

Asidhara nodded gravely, "Fools. Very well, accompany me." as she strode off towards the fallen Paladin and Werewolf. It was probably quite disconcerting for those viewing such a spectacle to see an unseelie noble stride from the eastern wall down into the wake of Alucard's destruction to recover the bodies of a paladin and werewolf, but these were disconcerting times. At best, this was the most effective way to bring them to the dire cause. The iron weapons at his feet and side crackled a dull baleful purple in Asidhara's visual spectra, and she wretched at the sight of such things. The werewolf beside him looked to be in even worse condition than the 'holy' mortal, a condition far beyond Asidhara's skill to heal.

"Xodar, I do not know your name. Would you be a dear, and kindly remove our good paladin's weapons so that I can heal him?"

If it were done, she would raise her left arm and shock Aetheor back into conciousness with a green bolt of lightning, which would do nothing for his wounds just yet, but allow him to speak.

"Rise, Paladin."

((Reconstitution of Mind, Life/Air.))

It had been terribly obvious, no one around was alive and the rest probably fled without a word. Now he was terribly racked with guilt about not helping a fellow soldier in the midst of combat. "If the human race is to survive we must work together instead of fight if we wish to survive any longer." Kharlen returned to the scene of where the paladin and 'thing' was thrown.

Much to his surprise there was a fae, standing over the mans body. Her left arm was raised towards him. Kharlen quickly took action and pointed his steel sword towards her back. "Step away from him fae or taste my blade." Though he held no prejudice towards her, the scene looked an awful lot she was about to finish him off. He held his shield off to the side in case she decided to counter-attack.