Bodies laid the battlefield that was Itjivut thanks to the horde of insects that had invaded the landscape of Revaliir. Adventurers and heroes were called to aid the front lines of key points, not daring question the motives of who came forth? Silver? Not a worry. Homes? No problem. Ego? So be it. Still, not every location was perfect for heroes. Itjivut was a frozen landscape, meaning many had to bundle up to conserve heat, which made the battlefield heavier and slower and those who had little to no issue to the blistering colds were gladly welcomed to the front to handle the crowd, which was where a loosely dressed maid took hold of.

Ever since Jesgil lost any kind of sensation when she tried to channel on the obsidian pendant to no results, the Draconian worried. It’s got a bit of me in it. You see, I am Desire. And you - you desire to be in control. You carry that bit of me with you, and you will be able to control yourself. You’ll be able to use your power as you wish, without the consequences that scare you were words the echoed  in her mind when she thought about what it did… And if it did not respond to the part of Lady Dalanesca, Jesgil only anticipated the worst. Thus, when word about the attack came forth and the call for aid was needed, she was willing to offer her axe on a whim.

Still, with how big of an invasion force they had to deal with, the Draconian had to invoke her powers just as she did with the swarm of undead. However, unlike last time, where she feared what would become of her, she took hold of her ice and used its chaos to help gain control. She had to accept the silver shine of scales that spread across her arms and chest. She had to adjust to the higher step to her feet, relying more on the balls of her feet even more than her heels. She had to ignore the feeling of her pinkies slinking down her arm, shrinking away as the battle progressed. She had to accept who she really was for this.

A sharp glow filled her eyes as she sliced her way through the battlefield, catching glints of highlighted flesh upon their skin to gash into insect flesh, down the bugs one by one. When the crowds began to get too thick, she would hurl a wave of ice from her mouth to hold them back before breaking them down as quickly as possible to return the numbers to a more favorable stance. She did not have to worry about the weight of heated clothes, thus she moved swiftly to take care of them, ignoring what sweat and exhaustion that tried to crawl upon her. These things are bringing forth the biggest form of chaos, was her thoughts as she hacked her way through with the massive axe, and it shall be me who brings back the control!

[OOC: I'm considering this to be a little prologue to Girshu's appearance here, as it might be a 0 response thread throughout the event. Probably way too long of an OP to read through. Oh well.]

Girshu looked at the battlefield raging in front of him. The insectoids were marching with superior numbers in organised formations of ants to steam-roll over the frontlines and were in almost complete control over the airspace above the battlefield with their flying units. Like usual. It seemed like the barbarians of the Rafandi tribes and the Frey bears had seen themselves forced to abandon their home territory for the more defended city of Hiafae. They were fighting valiantly, but without the walls they had traded one battlefield for an even less advantageous one. One that rendered them stuck between the walls and the enemy, without the chance to retreat.

Girshu sighed and put on the smelly helmet. He sure hoped that this ant armour that he donned would fool the insects, at least from a distance. If not, there was not a chance in hell that he would get to the allied forces without the wasp drones taking him out long before reaching any form of relative safety. Well, here was to hoping that the blizzard would prevent them from smelling him out, and the chaos to grant him a chance to get through unseen.

Girshu looked at the armour that he was wearing. He had never worn any before, but that was because they'd never fit. The disadvantage of having six arms, or rather the humanoid's shortcoming for only having four. After some remodifying of the insect's bottom-part to be several of their abdomens stringed together to fit his tail, he had found it somewhat restrictive and chafing but otherwise sufficient. He'd have it remade once they were done here.

Feeling the blizzards spells in the air and summoning his own blizzard to strengthen it, he called forth strong gusts that pulled the wasps out of the air and smashed a few against the ground. At least they had that advantage here, he didn't want to know how much poorer they were faring in the other invasion areas where no such storms were raging. With the blizzards strengthened and thus providing more cover to use, he started to slither to the frontlines.

As he crawls, intentionally avoiding to either seem too out of place by being too far away from the other insects while also not getting too close, Girshu looks ahead. The werebears and orcs of the frey bear clan were still fighting valiantly, but the other Rafandi tribes were losing morale. Even the mighty frost giants were clearly thinking of making a run for it, being the prime targets of the wasps. And the outsiders? Girshu couldn't even tell how poorly they were feeling in this cold.

One woman was being an exception, however. She stood out for her valiant and unyielding combat with her battleaxe as much as she stood out with her red hair. Yuk, red hair. This better not be a pyrom- Oh, frost breath. That was certainly improving her in his eyes. There was something of a silver shine to her too, a silver dragon perhaps? Not as good as the white variant, but still easily his second-favourite of the species.

Girshu keeps slithering, hoping that the silhouettes of the marching ants not meters away from him wouldn't notice the un-insect-like tail and movement that he had. They didn't, fortunately. Their elites were controlling them from afar, and the drones themselves didn't concern themselves with what wasn't directly identified as an enemy to them.

Yes, Girshu was almost there. He was almost behind the frontlines so he could fight behind the lines of fighters to prote-

A long hand that looked like a serraded blade yet blunt like a club places itself on Girshu's shoulder from behind. He immediately freezes and turns around. A locust was looking at him, amused and vicious. Its mandibles don't move, but Girshu could hear his voice clearly over the raging storm.

"Did you really expect that it would be this easy, mage? I might not be a Virtuose yet, but I'm certainly capable of sensing the location of a sorcerer casting a blizzard spell when they walk not a hundred meters away from me. Any of my kind would've, even if we weren't focussing on wrestling control of the weather away from these enemies."

Girshu panicks, knowing that this most certainly meant the end for him. Even if he could best this mage, the ant legions around him would tear him apart. Could he perhaps bargain his way out, offering to clear the skies around the area in exchange for his life or claiming that he had joined their ranks? No, these creatures didn't accept outsiders amongst their ranks.

He was done for. There was no way that he could escape.

Then, a voice echoes through his mind. The voice of Lokir, god of war, speaking words to bolster morale. The locust couldn't hear it, but it could hear the effect that it had. Its head rears up as all the warriors and bears from the frey bear clan roar as one upon hearing the voice of their patron deity speak to them. One moment their attention was drawn, one moment that Girshu had to use to save himself…

He needed to call attention to himself. Give some signal that he was here, that there was someone here that needed a quick rescue. Some signal that would attract attention.

Girshu spreads his arms to the side, taking a jesus pose. Calling forth his frozen powers and dropping the blizzard spell, two cones of cold are blasted from his hands. The ants scream in pain as the shards of ice pierce through their ranks from an unexpected angle, and the locust immediately snaps his attention back to Girshu.

"You fool, I will make you suffer for that!"

She, too, heard the words from the God of War, rallying forth the men on the lines to keep up their defense and push the assault. The cheers of those common to the land filled her pointed ears as she cleaved the bugs, left and right, harnessing the God of the HUnt's gift to good use. While morale was certainly a good thing to have, it was clear that she was driven by something much more fierce: vengeance. That was not to say that the call did not aid her. No, it was more like a breath of fresh, chilled air, just like a second wind. Though her light gown got tore up by the passing moment from the relentless horde piece by piece, she was sure to return the favor by cleaving away at their weak points as their claws reached a simple layer of shimmering scales, reflecting like the snow itself beneath their feet.

Soon after the rallying cries, a strong wind pushed through the air, tinted with yet more bitter coldness, drawing the attention of ally and foe alike. There, an ice salamander stood arms wide calling forth a major storm, yet drawing in the attention of the hive. What was it even thinking? Was it trying to get noticed by everyone? Nesting the handle into the crook of her arm, the draconian motioned her arm to flick two fingers upwards, summoning forth an ice wall between it and the newly-formed stampede. Hornets that tried to dive for it were suddenly stuck as the foot units had a new item to work around to reach their target, at the very least slowing down their storm on the beast.

To add to the mix, Jesgil inhaled as she focused upon her blood, drawing in more of its power. As she did, her red hair stared to fade away starting at the roots, slowly rejecting the dye to show the natural silver it was before she released a massive bellow, echoing through the frozen skies. A fierce dragon's roar that would cause any entity to tremor in fear, questioning if they should even be here anymore. It was then up to Jesgil and the units on the ground to aid with taking care of the sudden mess before the hive mind got them back on track to their storm.

"Damn it!"

Girshu screams in terror as the locust' hands ignite in flames and begin waving in somatic patterns to conjure up a spell to burn him alive. The ants to the side immediately rush at him, stampeding over their fallen and wounded comrades to get to him. Drones were immediately dive-bombing in to pounce on him too.

They scream as a wall of frost suddenly rises from the ground, creating a pathway from the ally frontline to Girshu. He didn't know who did it and how they knew that he as a frost salamander was gifted with claws made to climb over these walls with relative ease, but it didn't matter. He quickly slaps the locust away with his tail and begins climbing.

Running over the wall and dodging the half-squashed wasp drones, Girshu runs to relative safety. Damn this armour's weight, even when running on all six like a savage he was slowed down. But he couldn't take it off now, not with the enemy in hot pursuit. Half the wall explodes behind him as the locust unleashes their fire spell and effectively kills dozens of their own kind with the debris and the splash damage. Girshu didn't care. He only cared for safety and…

A drone dive-bombs onto him with a force that would've broken several of his bones if he weren't wearing the armour. Girshu immediately loses grip on the ice and is sent sprawling with his breath forcefully knocked from his lungs. Rapidly spinning with the wasp holding on and trying to stab their way through his armour without the option to aim properly, it was a very distressing situation. Like, the second-most distressing situation he experienced in the last minute.

And with that thought, he flew off the wall. With a wasp stabbing at him and his body rapidly spinning around, Girshu was airborne for a couple of seconds, looking out over the battlefield underneath him. it was actually quite beautif-

And then the ground came towards him. The wasp is forcefully thrown off and finds itself stabbed to death by several barbarians seconds later, and Girshu rolls and crashes into the ground while rolling himself up into a ball to minimise injury.

"Ouch…"

Girshu looks up at the battlemaid at whose feet he landed.

"Thankss though."

Though the salamander was in her peripheral, Jesgil's attention was still darted toward the forces upon them. The insects, however, seemed to have been slower than before on their pursuits. Looked like the morale boost did more than anticipated, leaving the hive a lot more thinned out than they should be. IN fact, it was clear that some in the back started to turn around for a retreat with more following suit in waves. They were not giving up the ghost, though. No, it was more likely a chance to let them regroup and strike again as a larger swarm, just like how it started.

Held breath finally escaped Jesgil's lungs as the tail of the axe stabbed the frozen earth, hand to her breasts as she worked to center herself and her stamina. Fatigue was going to hit her hard by how much she pushed herself, but at the very least it meant another day they could call victory their own.

Once she had settled herself enough, she turned her attention over to the salamander that curled at her feet. So beaten and bruised, yet the armor it awkwardly wore did save it. Still, if she were a smith, she would have it worked upon right away as she saw so many of the joint areas on the additional limbs not being open enough for easy movement. Not something she could tend to herself, but the injuries were no issue.

Kneeling over, she rested a hand upon the salamander's body before she spoke, "Awaken, my blood, and grant me thy blessings," in Draconian before a warm pulse flooded out from her hands. Not warm enough to heat the body up like fire magic, but more that to aid the body into tending to injuries. Her body rested still as she moved her magic through the beast until there was no more need and stood back upon her feet. "There. That should help with what injuries and possible toxins those bugs could have possibly hit you with. Now then, you should see a more proper smith to–"

Her words were lost in the back as sudden bursts of destruction echoed through the back. It was from the insects that were left behind to die, knowing retreat for them was an impossibility. They knew it, too, and thus acted more suicidally with their assaults upon the camps, being sure to destroy whatever heat sources their opponents were using to keep going and cook food were gone and sleeping tents were hardly any more. Even though they pushed the enemy back, the bugs used a false ace to their advantage…

The battle came to an end, the insectoids quickly retreating. Being a hive mind, they weren't doing so with a signal or pure chaos, rather there was a well-organised retreat as if they were all one mind. Which in a way, they were. Creepy.

As Girshu gets up, he wonders if the wounding or death of the locust had something to do with it. The creature was their spellcaster, perhaps the one that provided them with magical protection and who kept the blizzards from being too troublesome. Or perhaps their explosion and followed wounding by ice debris and fire explosion made them panic and call for a retreat. Who knows?

Didn't matter. They were retreating, which only worked out in Girshu's favour. He could use some rest and calm. Though focussing their attention on killing the locusts might yield profitable results once their enemies would return. Who knows, it could solve a lot of issues.

The dragon lady crouches over, her red hair…. no, dyed red, silver hair hanging over her face as she looms over Girshu. The presence, the hair, the language she suddenly spoke, she was definately a dragon of some kind. And the proper, ice-breathing kind. Not one of those filthy firebreathers. Blerg.

The dragoness touches Girshu's skin, once again proving that she was no mere human but a true child of the frost. Where anyone else would've sustained serious injuries upon touching his cold skin, colder even than the snow and air around them, she didn't even seem to notice his frigid aura. Healing magic poured from her touch and fixed up the few scrapes and bruises that he had sustained.

"There. That should help with what injuries and possible toxins those bugs could've possibly hit you with Now then, you should see a more proper smith to-"

The dragoness is distracted as surviving insectoids suddenly assault the camps. As the turmoil happens, Girshu considers her words, the armour was indeed rather restrictive. His arms were a lot broader than those of the insects, and he wasn't even that buff. He needed to get this thing remodified to properly do battle.

The dragoness still seemed to be focussed on the assault to their rear. And it had been a fraction of a second already. Hm? Oh, right. Girshu remembered that the warmblooded species actually had to cook and boil their food, and would be greatly disadvantaged if their irksome fire sources would be destroyed.

"Lookss like they're adopting the barbarian'ss techniquess. They're going after our ssourcse of susstenancse and our meanss to ssurvive in thesse regions. Well, not ourss sspecsifically, ass you too can no doubt ssurvive in open air and on cold food, but from our more numerouss alliess. Pity, that might actually be a bother."

"Well, whatever the casse, I'll focuss on our front. If we all turn to facse the few behind uss, the oness in front might ssuddenly turn around and attack. And I do better when there'ss nothing but foess in one direction. I causse too much ssplash damage to be of usse back there."

A few dying insectoids, presumably the ones that were on the front lines and the ones that he and the locust's foolish fire spell wounded severely, appear from the whirling snowstorm. With the same suicidal drive and intend to cause as much damage as they could before kicking the bucket, they charged forwards.

"Peh, jusst a bunch of wounded dogss, thrown out with the trassh once their owners left. Probably neither commanded by their elites nor fighting in formation. Once proud ssoldierss, reducsed to reckless ssavages. Thiss will be eassy." Girshu says as he raises his hands and prepares to blast the incoming insectoids with a barrage of ice shards.

Okay, so she wasn't actually hearing things the first time. Instead, it seemed the frozen salamander actually understood a form of human tongue to communicate. So, at the very least, it had some fort of intelligence, but in terms of brightness was something else to ponder. That, or its blood lust as it headed back to the battle line just in case they started forge their way forward once again.

"Barbarian, yes, but certainly not stupid." An attack on their camp like this was like an attack on their morale, or at the very least ensuring they won't be high from their retreat. Still, whatever entity in control not exactly a moron. Regrouping for a larger squad at a later time, surrendering allies to the enemy so they can destroy their supplies. It was hardly a "reckless" tactic that many barbarians were actually known for aside from their actual force.

"And as much as I would like to say I can survive in this kind of environment easier than others, it does not mean I cannot enjoy a warm bowl of soup." Her axe grew bright before vanishing into the void, opening her hands to help tend to those who were hurt in the attack. However, the salamander was quick to ready itself for more carnage. THe remaining bugs were not after them, but the tents and heat sources they had, and yet the salamander was still wanting to go full force, calling them as "wounded dogs" and "reckless savages."

"No not underestimate a cornered dog," Jesgil tried to ensure it as she started casting walls of ice around the remaining tents, "They already know they will be dying, so they are going to take whatever they can with them with no shame to use their full force as the rest of them rest up and regroup while we rebuild."

"You missundersstand me. When I ssaid a barbarian'ss tactic, I meant the tactics that the Frey Bear clan ussed not half a day before. I wass there with them, aiding in sseparating the soldierss from the caravanss sso that they could desstroy the inssectoid'ss provissionss. Burned their food to asshess and then sspread in the wind before the insectoidss could decimate the barbarians in turn. I didn't hasstly retreat with the otherss, which unfortunately ressulted in me ending up behind enemy liness. But I did do ssome reconnaisssance, which I meant to report here." Girshu says, hailing down ice shards on the wounded remnants of attacking insectoids in front of them. "The main ant army sseems to sstick with their ssiege beetles, desspite the provission ssnailss dead and raided. At thiss rate and the detour they have to make, mosst will sstarve to death before they'll reach the front liness. Roughly 2000 of them are on their way, they would've arrived half an hour ago if thingss went ass they planned. Now though… Our enemy can kisss their reinforcementss goodbye."

"Perhaps that's why they retreated. Then again, these guyss might be retreating to rally with them and sshare provisionss. I asssume they've grabbed plenty of humans ass ssnacks. The ruckuss behind us might be to steal rather than desstroy our provissionss too. It's not one'ss accesss of weaponss but food that decidess the victor in Itjivut, after all." Girshu shrugs. It didn't particularly matter to him. If the insects were defeated, that was a win. If Hiafea falls, that's a win in his book too. He had no love for those filthy snow pixies, and the island would be more easily conquered by his glorious species once they were gone.

"Now if you'll excusse me, I've got a meeting with an old acquiantancse." Girshu says, preparing more defensive spells as the silhouette of the mantis appeared from the blizzard ahead. The creature looked torn apart, panting and with two of his limbs missing from his own explosive spell. But there was a fire of hatred and vengeance burning in his eyes and powerful protective spells keeping him alive and shielded from attacks. Within those shields however, powerful offensive spells were being conjured up.

"You bastard… filthy lizard… I'll show you that… none can compare to… the mighty mantis race!" He pants. Girshu begins to wave his hands around too to conjure up more sophisticated spells fit for a mage battle, quickly finding his movements to be more constricted by the armour than what teh previous simple 'blast all' evocation spells needed. "I'll show you who's… superior and mount you… on my wall!"

"Bring it on, you half-ssquasshed bug! I'm eassily amongst the top five mosst powerful cryomancerss, nay, the sstrongesst! Don't compare my ssuperior intellect to thesse ssavagess and ssellsswordss jusst becausse I have them watch my back!"

The two very humble mages who were definately not disillusioned about their own importance and might begin to cast spells at one another, creating a very bright and impressive but ultimately ineffective sight of spell barrages that were being dispelled against the other's shields. As they were fighting however, Girshu didn't remember the dragoness's words. "Don't underestimate a cornered dog. They already know they'll be dying, so they will take whatever they can with them."