eat sh*t and die } LUPEI

[prague]

Prague

She senses when her pride is diminished, she calls for two more of them cloned like her and the several elephants push in as another magician (one she doesn't know off hand) pushes the pines forward to narrow the playing field. Well, we just can't have that can we? She places a hex on them to break the trees - which they're capable of - it's not much but it will keep them from being in too small of a circle. The real threat is these Chamberlings not leaving her to her peace - she just wants the wolf-fire-breather for God sakes.


At least for now.


The iron mare sees Vanquish struggling, she sees Lyris and Lexa...and Larken, her own daughter dead. Has she given birth to an entire group of idiots? Surely not. Prague concentrates on the girl, sending a healing energy her way if she were truly just on death's doorway. She could not play healer for many or for long but it is not long that it seems a healer is among them. She wonders briefly where the hell Lagertha is but eventually the armored mare shows herself. Nice to see you finally showed up to the party, Lagertha the old gray sends to the mare, even now she would pick at her and if she wasn't, Prague really would be in deep. Prague detects a healer on the Chamber's side - her mind's eye looking out to find her, Cress. "I believe you should stay out of it," she cackles and curses Cress hoping that her concentration can go unbroken long enough to take effect, "For every Chamber or Valley affiliate you try to heal, you'll be giving their opponent super strength - choose wisely," she then has an elephant snap a tree, hoping it falls near or on the healer. She would only be nice and spare her once, even that is quite kind. The iron mare then sends Sidra, Vanquish, Joscelin, Jason, Mast,  Lagertha, Lyris and Lexa a message, if the pines close in on us, form a circle and i'll find you . If they wanted to fight in close quarters, she would be glad to but she needed to be able to protect everyone in one location. With that little nugget being passed on, the Jungle magician gave each of them the ability to block mindreading. She and the black general of the Chamber just couldn't let go of one another, she has secured him momentarily and begins to channel energy from him to restore hers - Lyris's storm is pooling in between them, Prague harnesses that energy to build a wall of lightning around them. She would suck the life completely out of him if that's what it took to stay in this fight - it was nothing personal...but it was all personal. Naturally, someone she cannot kill is here - Kimber, the daughter she abandoned on the Chamber's doorsteps. fuck. She doesn't have time to deal with this, the two lionesses set after Kimber to attack her. Prague eyes the original asshole who set her home on fire, he's managed to escape from her grip but not unscathed - a lasting scar, an imprint of a lion on his shoulder that wouldn't ever fully heal and that would glow red anytime he approached the Jungle - a warning sign if you will. Her mind is going in so many directions that she can barely keep up who is who and what exactly they're doing. She watches Joscelin get encased by cosmic flames, "Lyris, help Joscelin! Rain, we need rain!" she yells, the heavy clouds falling in just as the night as suddenly.


Prague had only recently met Weir but she watches as a coyote blunders forward for him and his turtle friend. What the hell is a turtle doing here? This has become the strangest day of her life. She encourages the additional lioness to pair up with the coyote; he would stand no chance.as long as it got there in time. She feels a healer amongst them, one unlike Cress - Bother and grants her temporary immunity against magic and casts a spell to make her heat resistant. She is rushed, there is not much she an do and she is spread thin.


Prague will regain strength by concentrating on draining Warship's and his immortality from the kingdom - if she goes unbothered. She must, it is nearly her time to take to the skies too and leave the ground fighting for her sisters and allies. This magician can do a lot here but her partners in battle would be no match for those like Eight, Evrae or Straia - Yael, Jason and Prague were the only hope to keep Beqanna from falling into an absolute oblivion. So far this has turned in her favor, there were enough of them now that the attacks weren't solely (not any currently) on her..she would try to stay under the radar but she knew it was inevitable.


Many will die but the Jungle magician would not be one of them.

ladies and gentlemen, fasten your seatbelts.

[Lexa]

the dead are gone, and the living are hungry.

She’s still frozen, struck still by the sight of her sister’s dead body, lolling in the grass. No, this just can’t be happening, it can’t be. Larken, goofy little stupid Larken. Larken who never thinks before she leaps … she can’t be dead. She just can’t be!

Her moment of disbelief is broken when a hoof crashes into her ribs (the carbon armour having dissipated the moment of Larken’s death).

And suddenly everything is red.

An unnatural scream rips out of Lexa’s throat, unlike anything she’s ever uttered. Black carbon spikes explode out of the ground, skewering the Chamber mare and leaving her hanging a few feet off the ground. Blood drips down the spikes, staining the ground. Prague’s words in her mind go unheard.

The red fades from her vision and Lexa stands frozen once again, shocked and horrified by what she’s done. She’d expected a hard fight, but she’d never expected to actually kill someone.

But she can’t dwell on it now.

Reforming her armour, Lexa leaps towards the edge of the battlefield in the direction of her sister’s dead body. She has to reach her, she just has to. Maybe she’s still ok, maybe she can help somehow. Maybe, just maybe.

But when she finally reaches the girl’s body it’s clear that it’s no use. Larken’s throat is ripped out. She’s dead, and there’s no bringing her back. Tears threaten at the corners of Lexa’s eyes …


But she can't give in now. The battle is still raging. The war has not yet been won.

Lexa encases the body in a diamond hard carbon cocoon and wheels back to the battlefield, her rage plain on her face. Then she dives in, a pure black, armoured beast, daring anyone to attack her. She actively forces her mind off of Larken and the mare that she'd just killed. There will be time to grieve later.

lexa

TLDR: Lexa gets attacked by Marsla, kills Marsla, goes to Larken's body, encases it in diamond hard carbon, then runs back out onto the battlefield acting enraged by her sister's death (though not rage-blind). Feel free to attack her.

[Ianto]

It is impossible Chaos when he finds himself in the Chamber. He hovers in the air, staying high enough that the entire battle is below him, the one in the sky and on the ground. He watches the Dragon, golden in color and then a Wyrm slide from the Chamber's pines. There was serious magic here and he wouldn't be much of a fight when it came to that. However, get him on the ground with some one else, and he would do what he could. It takes him a few moments to find the rather large black body that he knows and remembers. His wings tuck to his sides and he dives to the ground. He dodges any aerial attacks (hopefully none as he wasn't stopping to take names and say hi).

He lands lightly just to one side of Vanquish, noting his rage was on a tiger not far from a still body he didn't dare to look too closely. He lands within his eye sight so he wouldn't accidentally send a hoof or some of that sand magic he was throwing around towards his friend. "Vanquish!" He rumbles, his throat still scratchy from disuse as even when he and Em were with each other they sometimes didn't say much. Roan was with her Brynmor (he better keep his daughter safe.) Adding another touch to saying hey I'm a friendly, don't stomp me!

Anyways a Jungle mare is near his friend...two jungle mares. One is breathing fire and the other has spikes jutting from her body. He manages to stay away from them. Another mare had attacked his friend and while Lagertha might be able to handle her, he is going to watch Vanquish's back while his friend focuses on the tiger.

Lagertha goes on one side and Ianto hits the other. He aims low, his hooves aiming for her back legs as she rears towards Vanquish. They are small targets, he knows that it is quite possible he won't hit her. But the stallion's blood is up now and he will do what he can.

Ianto

Nothing burns like the cold.

Ianto's late to the party but he's here next to Van and attacking the other side of Starlace with Lagertha!

[Feyre]

Feyre

The girl makes it into the Chamber long after the Fight has already started. Siloam and the unconscious girl had been her priority before she had left the Deserts. Chula had taught her daughter to fight, amongst other things to keep the girl as safe as she could before they had went their separate ways. Chula was not a mothering type but she wasn't heartless either.

Feyre felt it was her duty to help her Kingdom, even if it took her blood. Even if it meant her life. Not that she planned on dying anytime soon. And so she had come, after settling herself with the knowledge that Sil and the girl were safe.

It was utter Chaos in the Chamber. Blood and fire (it was so hot!), the Chamber seemed to be bathed in it. She stayed away from the fire, stayed away from what she could until she saw the stallion knock the girl away from him. "Hey! Leave her alone!" She yells as she nears her, the black mare's hooves digging into the dirt as she moves quickly towards Sidra and Killdare. She gets there just after he takes off, and then the mare is standing guard over the fallen girl.

Bother shows up and heals the girl and Vanquish. Or rather Feyre doesn't know who does it but Sidra seems to be okay now (she hopes) and while she had stood guard near the fallen girl, she had been watching Vanquish's fight and his body seemed to heal and stop bleeding. So then when Sidra wakes and/or gets to her feet Feyre is still there, her eyes on all things to do what she can to keep her safe. "Come, lets go there." She nods her head towards Bother and the small stallion that really shouldn't be here. "I think she might need our help." Feyre turns to look at Sidra, her intent to get them all in one spot where she might be able to keep them safer. Her heart urges her to do what she can to help those that seem to need it.

“If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Then quit. No use being a damn fool about it.”

photo by Vitor Schietti

Feyre tries to herd Sidra to Bother and Fynn so she can do what she can to keep them safe.

[Rhonan]

I have seen the night torn into thin darkling strips

and woven into shapes too bleak for dreams.

He isn’t left alone for long. In truth, he would have been disappointed if he had been, honestly. Noah flees from the side of his vision, never able to stay when others are too close. It makes Rhonan sad for a brief moment, but the moment is fleeting, knowing that Noah will always be back. He never really leaves, after all.

The thing that wraps around his neck is, he thinks, a horse. Thankfully, Rhonan’s shadow armor is hard, and though it cracks slightly as his concentration is pulled away from the armor itself, mostly it holds. Everything is uncomfortable, the pressure on his neck tight, but it’s not nearly enough to suffocate him. “Dude, not my thing,” he hisses through gritted teeth.

As he says it, spikes begin to form from his armor, solidifying as they shoot up from his body, not caring if they hit the other stallion or not. But if the other has half a brain, he’ll let go before the shadow spinner is simply a ball of spikes. Not the most comfortable thing to hang on to, he’d suspect.

His coyote disappears into scurrying shadows on the ground as the tortoise aims to smash him. There are perks to being made of shadows, just as there are spirits. The coyote doesn’t actually exist, and he had done his job. He’d distracted Weir.

Rhonan sees the ball of light quickly, and honestly, doesn’t react. He doesn’t have to. The shadows on the ground (there are so many now, with the trees closer together and the fire gone), leap up from the earth to protect their master’s face. They shatter at the light, but it never touches Rhonan.

Then they both disappear. “Coward,” he says with a laugh in his words. “Are you so afraid of me that you have to hide?” He begins to change, wrapping himself in layers and layers of shadow, turning them as real as any other kind of flesh. He cannot change his actual body, and so he grows in size as he wraps the shadows into the shape of a wolf around him. He’s twice the size of a normal horse now, but his black teeth gleam against the flashes of light from the battle nearby as he growls slightly. It’s still a horse sound, but there’s something feral to it anyway.

rhonan.

dark wolf of the valley

Rhonan grows spikes when Phaedrus attacks him, blocks Weir's light attack, and then turns into a giant shadow wolf.

[Lagertha]

I am iron and I forge myself

Her Sister’s screams reach her above the clamor, but she isn’t able to tear her attention away from her target until she sees Draconis breathe her fire, and knows that she can spare a second. Lagertha’s gaze scans through the melee until she finds the source of the shrieking - Lexa. And fuck, that’s a body. That’s her fault. Any Amazonian’s death is her fault. In a split second decision, the Khaleesi determines that this small mare, without any obvious traits, is probably the least of her worries and that there are far bigger and badder things out there for her to take on. That, and Death and Grief make others reckless. With a command to Draconis, the armored mare pivots away from Starlace even as a strange stallion continues her previous assault Vanquish moves to take care of the murderous tiger. “Draconis, team up with Lexa and make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid!” That also frees her up to tackle some of the bigger opponents, one that she doesn’t necessarily want an inexperienced fighter taking on.

Confident that the two young warriors will find their way to each other, Lagertha looks for something worthy of her time. Egotistical, perhaps, but we all know how she is. She keeps moving, weaving in and out of the fighting horses until a mind-voice enters her head and she laughs out loud. Some of us have to travel on foot, you know. Don’t worry, I’m making up for it now. They both know she will - Lagertha is as good as her word. She’s about to target a very large not-quite-solid wolf when a sudden stabbing pain shoots through her head. It’s ever so quick - just a flash that makes her pull up and turn in a tight circle, searching for the assailant. That’s the one thing she’s vulnerable to - mental attacks - and it drives her up a fucking wall. She spots a stallion lurking in the shadows, just beyond the fighting and charges at him.

Another painful strike shoots through her head, and the Iron Lady stumbles, catching herself just in time. And now she’s really pissed. Fortunately for her, the stallion is slow to realize that he should run, andby the time he takes off through the trees, she’s not that far behind. Her heart pounds merrily in her chest as she removes the metal from her body and kicks it up a notch. The poison is still very much active - and all it will take is for her to pull up alongside him and press herself into his unsuspecting sides, sprout a metal spike, and inject it into him. The noise of the battle is in the background when Lagertha catches up to him and spears him in the side, letting her heart-stopping poison flood his bloodstream and make its way quickly to the heart. A single dose can kill two African elephants - the bastard never stood a chance.

She wheels away and leaves him to die on his own, never caring whether or not they’ll wonder how he died, so far away from the rest of the battle. He is one less enemy. One less weapon to hurt her women. On her way back, a massive tree limb falls to her immediate right, and she swerves away with a yelp, glancing quickly to the sky. Were there tree branches falling? A creaking to her left pulls her attention again, and she swerves back to the right as a very large tree pulls itself from the ground, coming to life before her eyes. Mother fucker! That’s going to be a problem. She weaves through the non-moving trees as best she can, employing years of Jungle maneuverability until she’s put some distance between herself and the living tree. But then there’s another one, and they all seem to be moving towards the group of fighters in the middle. That’s not good. Soon they’ll have to turn from each other to fight the trees.

Ok, time to get back into it. Lagertha covers her whole body in a thin layer of obsidian, making sure to choose a fire-proof substance. Really, she wants to go after the shadow-wolf, but it is nowhere to be seen at the moment so she heads for the nearest source of flames, since she’s one of the few that could probably withstand some burns. Again, she sprouts spikes and tips them with her poison, not knowing that her target is a healer. She comes at the mare from behind, after seeing her attach Joscelin and Ramiel, and does her best to gouge her rump with her wickedly sharp points, and infuse her blood with toxins.

Prague, take a break! We’ve got the strength at the moment, she yells to the magician. From what she can see, they've got their foes outnumbered for now. At least on the ground. She knows Prague has been here from the beginning and must be tiring. Let them handle it for a moment, they would need her against the living trees.

Lagertha

warrior queen of the amazons

She tells Draconis to team up with Lexa and keep her from doing anything stupid. Then goes to target Rhonan when Thaddius hits her with a mental attack, so she chases after Thaddius (away from the battle) and poisons him, leaving him to die. A limb falls and almost hits her. Sees the trees come to life while heading back to the fight. Upon her return, coats herself in obsidian and attacks Cress. Also tells Prague to rest for a bit.

[Tatter]

Burn everything you love then burn the ashes.
In the end everything collides;
My childhood spat back out the monster that you see.

There’s this thing where being dead leaves you kind of lonely. The once-great stallion has realized this, over and over again, endlessly, day after day. There is only so much small talk to be done while one looks over the events of the “real world,” so-to-speak, and it gets tedious. Boring, even. Beqanna had been a tumultuous place when the Painted King had fallen, but it had fallen into a lull of inactivity since then. He has seen his scheming great-granddaughter, all right, but when you have all the time in the world it seems as though they move at a snail’s pace.

When the battle finally breaks on the Chamber’s border, magician and trait-wielders alike flowing into the Chamber as if any of them belong there, his lip curls in disgust. Who are they to think they can file into his kingdom and take what they want? Who are they to think they can come in and try to bathe the Chamber in the blood of her own loyal members? He is pacing as he waits, waits for the tide to turn and for the Chamber to crush their enemy. It is only fair, it is only just, it is only the Chamber’s way.

Eventually his sire joins the magicians fighting in the skies, as dragons and birds and even creatures on the ground. Even the dragons make him feel restless—Nocturnal was his dragon girl, his dragon, the only one who truly belonged in that skin. Even Set has adopted a dragon form himself but he can allow his father that much without the resentment; when your enemy is a dragon, you fight fire with fire. The Chamber is already burning—not for much longer, but it is aflame—so why not use a little more firepower?

Eventually Tatter feels a tug and he turns towards it willingly, clinging to the thread of life that has been offered to him. Of course Set wouldn’t make him sit out an entire war on their home turf. He materializes, young and scar-free, in front of his demon of a younger brother, a toothy grin on his face. Set’s voice comes from within the demon but Tatter takes it all in stride, not even acknowledging the hellhound at his brother’s feet. “Niklas,” he says with a nod, then addresses his father. “I was wondering how long you’d keep me waiting, Father!”

There is zero hesitation as he barrels through the portal. Time to go home.

The journey from the Afterlife to the Chamber seems to take an eternity and only a split second all in one, and before Tatter knows it he is slinking towards his father, muscles rippling under his sleek blue and white body. “Well met,” he says in greeting. “Do we have a battle plan, or am I just going in to rip some throats out?” He is anxious, keyed up, almost dancing on his feathered feet. He hasn’t felt this young in decades. They are not far from the battle; he can hear the shrieking of horses and other creatures that have joined the fray. He is ready as soon as Set gives the word.

Tatter.

@[Set]

Set, Niklas, and Tatter are separated from the fighting. For now. Nobody should know they're there.

[Warship]

i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell

In an instant, his world was chaos.

The thick cloak of smoke and ash burned his eyes and his lungs but still he pressed forward. Sweat streaked his blue-black coat and his nostrils flared red. All around him were the grunts and moans that accompanied war, and the sounds alone were enough to make his blood flow hot like fire. Despite the ache in his muscles, despite the pounding in his head, he kept pressing forward. The iron gray lioness snarled and writhed, arcing a heavy paw over his flesh. Her claws hung in the muscle and he screamed in fury and pain as he whirled around to face her. However the battle was quick and it wasn’t long before his fight with her was lost to another opponent. They came from all sides and aimed at him. As the original attacked of the Amazonian mare, he had apparently incited the wrath of each and every horse who subsequently entered the Chamber. It wasn’t long before he lost track of faces, though the dragon winged titan that plowed into him wasn’t easily forgotten. For a moment Warship thought he had been crushed by a boulder until he smelled the stallion on top of him. It took every bit of strength he had in his ancient body to keep from being crushed beneath the dinner-plate sized hooves. Off to the other side Killdare was fighting his own battles, and Warship was pleased to see the bay doing reasonably well. Kimber joined the fray and Warship spared a moment to shoot her one of his customary scowls. However, before he could shout any words of encouragement or even right himself completely from all the blows he had sustained, vines wrapped around his legs.



The vines had him trapped. They pulled and tugged at him, piercing his flesh with the strength of their hold. No amount of writhing would free them no matter how much he tried and oh, how he tried. The old General flailed until he felt weak from it, until his ribs heaved with exhaustion. Suddenly, he could feel his strength draining. It wasn’t just that he was tired (he was exhausted); he could actually feel himself draining. It was almost as if a plug had been pulled and everything he had was swirling down the drain. His eyes found Kimber’s and he felt a moment of panic, knowing that soon she would be left alone. There was something about the mare that lured him in, even if she was an insufferable brat the majority of the time. She was his brat and he was currently failing her. Calling on every last reserve within his weakening body he crawled forward, his eyes only on the thickening pines. He would only die on his own terms and not those set by some Amazonian bitch. He would die for his kingdom one hundred times over, but he wouldn’t die for the magical mare once. If she wanted what he had then she could come and get it.

warship

ooc - so basically prague sucked 99% of the life out of him. he is out of the fight until further notice

[Lupei]

I'm so glad that he let me try it again
'Cause my last time on earth I lived a whole world of sin

The old, ‘curvy’ mare surprises him. She’s got more than a few tricks up her sleeves it seems and despite what he may have thought, Lupei is not well-equipped to handle what she throws at him. Before he can blink, the two of them have shot into the tumultuous sky, the enemy below them growing ever fainter. In simple terms, Lupei flips his shit. Where once he held on for pain, now he holds fast for dear life. He finds himself scrambling madly on her back, trying to mount her as if the two of them were in a ridiculous dog-and-pony show. She’s enjoying this, he reckons, because she chooses to alter their course and drop the forty or so feet back to earth. He clings, helplessly, hind legs drifting upwards at their precarious descent.

When they level out to fly above the scene of chaos below, Lupei realizes one of two things. One: That he could not shift back in this situation - he was doomed to endure the ride from hell. Two: They were headed straight for the Jungle witch who’d stripped him of a well-grown mane and tail and left him to suffocate in his own blood. Neither of these two things seem too appealing to the Chamber wolf, so what happens next is really not his fault. He sees himself pushed into a corner, and like any cornered predator, he would fight his way out like a madman.

A sharp, mind-twisting pain sears into his right shoulder - his vision goes white. He can’t see exactly what Prague has given him, but he knows that something like this will be permanent. On his wolf body, he still had a full coat; but the fact that this new body art stuck no matter what form he was in told him that the Jungle was taking his actions very personally. With a muffled roar the black behemoth ignites, a white-blue comet that soars above the madness and engulfs the chubby, grey mare, turning her to ash beneath him.

The fall is long, with the two trailing slowly away from the group until they descend into the crowded wood. When the mare is no more, Lupei finds himself flung against a thick trunk, body falling to the earth with a solid thud. The force of the impact has knocked him out, probably for the better, because if he were awake he’d be able to feel the pain of the broken shoulder he was due to nurse for some time now. At least he could sleep easy with the taste of victory in his mouth and the smell of burning horseflesh to sweeten his dreams.

lupei

RIP Lyris <3 Night night Lupei.

[Kryten]

we're setting fire to our insides for fun

Its not long until his new found wolf form has taken his mind over. Prowling in this form had become his life. Living in shadows looking for any sign of the man that had torn his family apart. He hears something call to him in his head. Green eyes blink rapidly. This was new. Then the scent of blood wafts to his nostrils.

This triggers his forms eager instincts. Claws dig into the earth, tail twitchs in anticipation. Muscle coil and he crouchs into a pounce. Lounging forward he dashes from the meadow. Finding his dash leads him to the chamber a wonderous sight of blood and clashing bodies alert him to the war. Colors whirl around him pain filled cries ring on the air. The ground soaked with the blood of the fallen. Lips curl into a smile taking in a deep breath his eyes close.

So this is war. He liked the prickle that rose along his spine. Lids snap open and his midnight colored fur takes on a blue sheen as it stands on their ends. In front of him a horse runs frantic and delirious. Fangs glint in the light watching her. Leaping into the air he graspes at her whithers drool slipping from his lips. The replication of the wolf had a strange craving for blood, even if he didn't this creature wanted blood and would rip her apart for it. So desperate he yelps as he slides from her body. The metal having prevented him from grasping at her.

He had to give up his predators replication. Instead he shimmers the air around him and suddenly he is a perfect mirror of herself. Metal covered and ears pinned. He huffs circling her for a moment looking for a good opening. And secretly attempting to recover from the fall. His limps still adjusting to the new form. Before he lunges towards her again this time hooves stike forwards with a slight buck.

Kryten

image © laurence demaison
OOC: Kryten makes his first atack to Lexa's whithers. He is in a cellular replication of a wolf. When he finds that she is metal covered he takes on her replication and makes a strike to her with forhooves.

---

PHAEDRUS

He smiles as the other creature is taken aback This is always the best thrill he could get. His gift was so strange no one could ever expect him. He finishes wrapping himself aroud and begins to tighten his hold. Not my problem dude He retorts thinnly. Just as he can feel his hide being poked by the spikes. He hisses being forced to loosen his grip. Just as he does so another spiked horse runs up. He can't help but cackle. Nice seeing you again Legartha. He isn't sure that she's heard him or not. But seeing the mare again was something of a kick. He isn't sure exactly what is happening in groups. What he does know is that even as there is armor for him to be able to move there had to chinks here and there. One of which would have to be near the throat. As the horse expands his plyable hide needs to move with him. Until he is able to wiggle his way between each spike and twist his way up to the soft part of the stallions neck. Teeth lashing out to clamp around his throat. Even if it didn't kill the horse he could only hope that the creature would pass out for a time.

Unraveling himself from the creature proved to be more difficult. And it takes him a moment, but his mane and tail catches on the spike ripping out flesh and cobalt strands with it. He knows at this point any physical strike towards the male would result in gouges in his own flesh. Then would good would he be to the kingdom.

Untangling himself his body retakes its original shape and he finds that the side that had laid against the spikes have impressions of that like a grid. Red blood glistens trickling from the sharp points though because of his plyable hide he isn't permanently injured.

Taking to his wings he blilnks looking down at the battle feild once more. Calculating how and who he would attack next.

OOC: Phaedrus slides between the spikes to find a break in the armor to make an attack. Then unwraps himself and takes to the skies.