#warrenson

The merc crossed his arms, his expression not changing one ilm. "So... who needs to die, and who are we congratulating on something?"

Helene Ashton cleared her throat. “Ikara is Lloire’s little sister in the fact he ‘adopted’ her into his care. She’s the one that called. She’s marrying his ‘son’ Beta. So, there’s the good news, yeah?” She then shifted her footing to dig her heel in as if waiting for the heavy blow. “Lloire’s gone and gotten his aether all shattered or something into different manifestations of his personalities and is off fighting his friends to prove a point. Ikara fought him, burned off his arm and headbutt him and it hurt the ‘form’ of him, but not….his real form. It’s confusin’, yeah? Anyway he ended up burning off her eyebrows in the fight but otherwise, she’s fine. Not shockin’ to me as she is the strongest aether user I ever heard of. But, I’m not. I don’t even have any and he is likely headin’ this way at some point and likely lookin’ to take me on.”

Lloire Peace, sort of, stepped into the doorway and lifted his visor. "Not you, actually, Shield sister." The spear was drawn from his back and pointed at Chance. "Him. He's your other half... I would know that he can defend you as easily as you can defend him." Chance took a step to the side, not even having had an opportunity to ask about the insanity Helene had just explained. "Are you crazy?" The wolf asked angrily. "Who the hell are you to think we owe you some test of our might?" Lloire lowered the spear. "I am Warrenson. A son of Peace. Accept my challenge, or do not... I will accept a forfeit."

Helene Ashton had moved on instinct at hearing Lloire. Given the context of the call from Ikara, her immediate response was to pivot and put herself between her brother-in-arms and her husband. “Oi!” Auburn locks were tied back but had grown long enough now that they collected to the opposite shoulder with the fluidity of her motions. “Lion. Let’s just talk this out, yeah? What’s got you doin’ this anyway?”

Lloire Peace shook his head slightly. "Not Lion... He'll be here for you later. Warrenson." He frowned as he looked between them. "I was listening... did the girl not explain it properly?" The spear rose again at a movement from Chance and his brow rose. "I hope you are not without honor mercenary... Your wife has asked a question... Do not engage me before I have answered her." Chance sneered but stopped moving. "The hell, Hels... I say I just kick his ass and we can ask him what the hell his issue is after this part's been beaten and broken..."

Helene Ashton huffed and looked over her shoulder to Chance but not enough to take Lloire out of her peripherals. “Don’t kill Lloire. Not sure what these… aether things do to him if they die but don’t attack him directly.” She then set her sharp gaze on ‘Warrenson.’ “Where is he?”

Warrenson grinned at her words and motioned behind him, outside. "The vessel is quite fine. He's resting. He'd thought to come explain it all to you himself, but when I heard you speaking with the girl... well, no sense explaining what's already been said, is there?" He gave her a simple nod. "You can check on him if that's your desire." His spear arm stiffened. "But I would have an answer to my challenge first." Chance growled and moved to Helene's side, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Idiot's gone and gotten broken as fuck in the head... but I doubt that makes him less dangerous... Your call, wife... He's your brother... Shall I oblige the ass, and kick it?"

Helene Ashton had always been the type not to swing too far off into the emotional spectrum of life. When it came to those she cared for, she would shift into her ‘Shield’ persona that she earned the name for. But in that moment, the way he spoke about Lloire and challenged Chance, questioning his ability? Hells hath no fury. “The ‘vessel’?” Chance coming to her side and setting a hand to her pauldron was enough to let the fire out of her veins. Her glare upon the apparition was heated and steady, her palm resting tightly to the pommel of the steel at her side, but she flicked her gaze away to lock it to her Wolf’s own hues. “Fuck him up, yeah?” And oh, how she grinned.

Warrenson smiled at the answer he'd been given. He turned without another word and stepped outside. Chance put down pressure on the pauldron beneath his fingers and nodded as he moved around her. "I love it when you talk sexy like that." His own spear was shook at his side as he moved to follow the false-Lloire and swapped it between hands as though to loosen up his grip. When he was out in the sunlight there was a clear divide between the two. Chance, the golden wolf. Lloire, the silver Lion. "Any rules to this duel of ours, False Lloire?" The other glared at Chance. "You will address me as Warrenson, or Son of Peace. Do not trifle with me, mercenary..." The merc simply grinned. "Shouldn't let me get under your skin so easily False Lloire..."

Helene Ashton winked as he moved around her, but she wasn’t far behind. Stepping out with them, she noted their positions, armor, weapons, the field on with they would play, everything. Both arms crossed upon her chest as she then took the moment to look for her brother.

Warrenson lay unconscious on the ground behind 'Warrenson' near the water. From where Helene stood, he seemed hale and whole, though completely unmoving aside from the steady rise and fall of his chest. Warrenson took a moment to adjust his gauntlets and shook his head. "Outside of the fact that this battle is between you and I, no. No other conditions or handicaps." Chance rolled his shoulders, letting his neck crack several times before nodding. "Alright... Let's get on with this then. I win how?" Warrenson pulled down the visor on his helm and smirked. "Despite the requests of the ladies... You only win if I am completely defeated. Slay me and win... fail to do so and I win... proving you don't have what it takes..."

Helene Ashton tucked her tongue into the curve of her cheek as she listened to the rule set. But again, that grin showed on her features and made her freckles rise. “Never said he couldn’t put you in your place. I said he can’t touch my brother.” She pointed to Lloire by the water. “Far as I’m concerned, he can hand you your teeth one by one, yeah? But if my brother starts feelin’ the pain, I’m gonna take issue.”

Warrenson scoffed. "The vessel will remain whole. Do not worry." The spear was rose aloft and he spun it once before settling into a stance. "Ready yourself mercenary!" With that, the battle began in earnest. Warrenson struck first. He leapt into the air and came down, getting the jump on Chance with speed that the mercenary had not expected from a mage. It was a glancing blow, but it stung all the same. Especially that Lloire had drawn first blood. "Remind me again Hels, what all is this asshole trained in?"

Helene Ashton shifted her footing as Chance took the hit first, but she kept her features neutral for the moment. “…Everything.” Arms tightened upon her chest as she adjusted them to get comfortable. “He spent a lot of time with every weapon he could get his hands on.”

Warrenson took a step back, letting the weapon in his hand twist around to his side again, 'allowing' Chance a moment to recuperate from the attack. The mercenary frowned at his wife's answer. "Well that's just -great-... Fuckin' Gillionaires... too much damn time on their hands, not enough real work to do." Chance shifted his left shoulder again, adjusting his grip on his own spear. "Well, there's something to be said about specializing." He charged Lloire, forcing the Hyur to lift his lance defensively. The mercenary feinted though, slamming his own spear into the dirt and using it to launch dirt and sand up and into the other's eyes. Warrenson stumbled back wiping at his eyes angrily as Chance rushed forward with the followup attack.

Helene Ashton winced at Chance’s response to the information but smirked as Warrenson was faked out. Memories. “He an’ I have that whole ‘hero’ complex in common, yeah? I know my way ‘round a few weapons so I can be ready. Same for him.” Holding conversation as if Warrenson was nothing more than a trainee being tested, she kept it casual now and glanced around the area, but Wolf would know her best. Her footing gave away everything.

The wolf was many things... but a hero, was never among them. Prideful, conceitful, no. He was practical. His enemy was blinded. His enemy was agitated. Pride was a weakness to exploit. His spear found its mark. Between scales, center mass, he buried it so far into the other Hyur that even Helen could see the other end from her position. Warrenson gasped out as the weapon rammed through him, blood splattering Chance in the face as they were now but a breath apart. The merc remained stoic and calm. "Something wrong? Looks like you might've broken a few... vessels there..."

Helene Ashton unfolded her arms the minute she watched the spear tip explode out the back of Warrenson. Pride may have been his weakness, but the sin shown clear as day all over her form for the man who claimed her. A few steps carried her down the makeshift ramp as she looked from her Wolf, to her Brother laying by the water. Little care was given to their enemy in that moment as she was focused on the rise and fall of Lloire’s chest; looking for blood.

Lloire Peace, even now seemed the perfect picture of health. A unique look for him all things considered. Chance watched the enemy carefully as he pulled in ragged breaths and Helene passed. When she reached Lloire his eyes fell to her. "He alright?" He asked with concern tinting his voice.

"I... told... <coughs blood> you.... he was... fine." Chance's pupils immediately dilated as he turned his attention to the enemy whose free hand now gripped tightly to the others spear. Warrenson leaned back for a fraction of a heartbeat before he slammed his head forward, helm crashing into Chance's unprotected face, blood splattering all around it from the impact. Chance fell back, losing his grip on the spear as he stumbled back from the blow, holding his face. "You thought this..." He motioned to the spear jutting through him now, "...would kill me? You know NOTHING about me!"

Helene Ashton had lowered down into a crouch to check on Lloire’s pulse, his breathing, and set a hand over his chest where the spear had hit its mark. All clear. She let out a slow breath before touching his cheek briefly. That was cut short as she heard the collide behind her and quickly rose to look back on the fight. That glare leveled on Warrenson as Chance stumbled back and she took a few steps closer, keeping her hand off her sword so as not to provoke intent.

Warrenson ripped Chance's spear from his gut, now holding both his own and Chance's crimson stained weapon. He was quickly bleeding out now, but seemed in no hurry to fetch a healer nor to slow down. Instead, Chance's weapon was lifted over his head and directed at the merc. "You should have ended it... now your wife has to watch you die... Even if I fall... slaying you will prove the vessel's fears true... I will lay down my life to ensure that Peace survives!"

Helene Ashton dug her feet to the ground and launched herself forward with speed. Despite the armor, despite the weight of her shield, she moved as if neither had been upon her in that moment. Sunlight glinted off the broad surface as she ducked down, leapt, and planted her feet suddenly, swinging her arm wide with enough force behind it to hopefully send Warrenson careening into the pillar close by.

Warrenson hadn't expected the rules to be ignored. He went flying, staggering towards the pillar and crashing into it. Stunned, he collapsed to the ground, shaking his head. "Foul!" He cried and he and Chance forced themselves to their feet. "That was outside the rules! This was between he and I!"

Helene Ashton slowly pulled steel from its home at her hip, letting the song ring out for his ears. Emerald hues were locked dead to his features as she righted herself and rolled the shoulder of the arm that held tight to that shield. Her tone had dipped into a serious edge, yet she smirked. “Like you said…” The sword swung this way and that as she warmed up her hold. “…you know nothing about me, yeah? Lloire wouldn’t kill the man I loved nor would I allow him, to kill Lloire.” Her steps brought her between Chance and Warrenson once more. “Hero.” She shrugged.

Warrenson staggered to his feet. "Very well hero... when the vessel remains broken... we will be sure that he knows it was your interfe--" Before the last word could leave his lips his head jutted backwards with the impact of something slamming into his face. The body that had been Warrenson slid down the stone column until it then fell over to the side, an expertly thrown knife jutting from one of his eyes.

Helene Ashton widened her gaze as the man fell over with a new addition for his trouble. A step or two brought her closer but she didn’t let it keep her attention. Instead, she looked back to Chance.

The merc was wiping blood from his nose with one hand, the other still pointed in the direct of his throw. "Live through that, asshole..." Chance staggered a moment in place before the arm dropped to his side and he frowned. "Thanks, Hels..." He remarked, gratefully. Before she could respond though, the being that had called itself Warrenson began to break apart into the base blocks of aether it had been formed of. They lingered in the air for several heartbeats before then moving back to Lloire and coalescing around him. There was a soft glow there for several moments but soon it faded and Lloire seemed to become restless in his slumber.

Helene Ashton softened at the fact he was standing upright. “Never need to thank me. Wasn’t sure you’d have enough time to throw it.” She then turned back to watch the figure break apart. “We didn’t shake on the rules anyway. Lloire knows our shake.” Her own defenses were up as she continued to watch her brother until he moved. Helene exhaled. “Good. He’s comin’ to.” The sword and shield were tucked away as she approached Chance to check on him. “How’s the nose?”

Chance reached up, growled beforehand, and pushed it back into place, causing a bit more blood to rush. "I'll live." He commented as he tore at a sleeve and used it to stanch the bleeding. "Fucker's pretty tough to take down, even broken as shit like this... I see why you two get 'long..." He moved to her side as Lloire began to move more. "Should we get him inside?"

Helene Ashton scoffed. “Should’ve seen him with an axe, yeah? Downright frightening.” Once she was sure he was alright, she turned and looked to Lloire once more. “Aye. He is likely feelin’ like a truck hit him by now. Also, remind me never to take you on and mean it.” Once more, pride shown in her features as she smiled to him before moving over to where Lloire lay. “Oi, you ‘wake?”

Lloire Peace seemed as though he were working on regaining consciousness but wasn't there quite yet. Chance followed her and shrugged. "I'd hope our vows prevented that all the same..." He wasn't quite clear on the aether and magic aspects of all that had occurred. Warrenson had felt plenty real to him afterall. "Let's get him inside then. He moved to help her carry the Hyur inside. "Maybe he'll be able to tell us something helpful... I don't recommend we just let him go out and try to kill people."

Helene Ashton lowered down and scooped Lloire up under one arm, helping get him up to move. “I didn’t think he’d go as far as trying to outright kill you, yeah?” Concern etched at the corners of her features as she looked to Lloire and then Chance. “I can’t let him leave if he is heading out to kill his friends, yeah?”

Chance Ashton helped Helene with the weight of the Hyur and nodded. "Though, I'm gonna guess with all his magic and fuck all crazy, talkin' him outta it or keeping him pinned down are gonna be tough. But we gotta try, I guess. Maybe find out who is next at least."

Helene Ashton shook her head. “Aye, who knows what his magic can do now. But maybe he’ll talk. Startin’ to think I need to get everyone in the same room and help protect them.” As they entered the barracks, she pushed the door open with her foot and helped take Lloire inside. She then nodded to one of the beds. “There or the bench?”

Chance Ashton shrugged and motioned towards the closest bunk. "There's fine. Not like he's bleedin'. Benedict won't mind." A heavy sigh rattled from him. "I swear... this Lion better not be gunning to fight right away..."

Helene Ashton helped haul her brother to the bed and get him situated upon it. She then dusted off her hands and took a step back. “He said he would be comin’ for me later. Not sure what that meant but if Lion is ‘Lion’, like the nickname I gave him? It’s not goin’ to be a pretty fight, Chance. He is full blood berserk mode in that moment, yeah?”

Chance Ashton's brow furrowed as she explained. "Well, I see no reason I can't give you a hand with him. Doesn't seem these 'rules' of theirs mean shit." A groan alerted the couple to Lloire regaining consciousness and the Hyur reached up and rubbed his forehead gingerly. "Lion'll wait... He's not ready to fight. Wants the other sides to lose before he bothers to rouse..." He shook his head as his eyes adjusted to the light. "Well fought, both of you..."

Helene Ashton turned as Lloire came to. She waited for a beat to be sure he really was alright before slamming her gauntleted, mhigan fist into his gut to take the wind from him if possible. “That was for trying to kill Ikara. An’ you should be -real- fuckin’ apologetic for tryin’ to kill Chance because I am this close...” she pinched her fingers together for him “…to givin’ you a throttling.”

Lloire Peace took the hit with a loud "Umphh!" as she got her wish and the air was robbed from him. He took several moments to regain his breath and moved to a sitting position. "Yeah, I likely deserve that..." He said sheepishly as his other hand reached up to rub the back of his head idly. "I'm glad you're both okay..." He let out a sharp breath and shook his head. "You and Ikara both... Look, Hels, Chance... Let's say I go against this plan... and I decide I don't trust you all to win... Then what's gonna stop Shade or Lion from deciding to just surprise attack and kill the people I care about when they are in control. Right now there's an uneasy truce in my head. They all get a shot to prove they are the side that’s too dangerous to be part of me... that I can't have companions... If I go against that... They are just gonna take control when they damn well please and do what they want like they have been.”

Helene Ashton set her hands on her hips as she listened to the explanation and she was kind enough to at least do that. “Lion…no, droppin’ nicknames for now, Lloire! How is -killin- your companions any fuckin’ better, yeah? You an’ I both know that if you had killed Ikara, Chance, Me, or even Velestine, you would come out of it worse than before. Stop bein’ an’ idiot and let us help. You aren’t alone.”

Chance Ashton nodded, agreeing with Helene, for lack of a better option. This all sounded utterly insane to him. Lloire frowned. "Don't you understand Shield? This -is- me letting you help. This -is- me trusting you all. Maybe Ikara could fix my aether, but the underlying trauma would still be there. It'd shatter anew..." He frowned deeper. "They killed Claudettea... The Galreans know who Velestine is now... That says nothing about you or Ikara... add that to the fact that another one beside Balmora's taken an interest in me... do you really think they'll afford any of us the chance to put me through years of aethereal and psychological therapy? Do you think Shade would...? I trust you all to take out these shadows of mine... To prove to my subconscious that I really don't have to worry that I'll be the death of everyone -else- I hold dear. That not everyone is Aliya or Claudettea..."

Helene Ashton lofted her brows at the mention of Claudettea and her shoulders sunk a little. “I’m sorry ‘bout Claudettea, Lloire. I liked her.” A sigh. “Always have to mess with ya, don’t they?” She could have spit if she wanted to but sucked air through teeth instead. “Why not just gather all your companions and take out Balmora 2.0, yeah? Wouldn’t that prove we could handle it? The Warrior of Light doesn’t even work alone half the time and he has had his own shit to deal with.” A beat was given as she shifted her footing once more. “Look, I get it, yeah? But now that I know you are out tryin’ to -kill- us, I’m havin’ a hard time not packing up and following you.”

Chance Ashton nodded. "Or knock your ass out and go handle the Imperials ourselves, yea?" Lloire shook his head. "I was unconscious the last time I fought someone Chance... It wouldn't really do much good if I can manifest elsewhere..." He returned his attention to Helene. "I get your side... but if you tried, most of the shards would just refuse to fight and I'll stay... fragmented. Is this an elegant solution, even a wise or practical one... hell no. But it's better than slamming a dagger in my heart or turning myself over to the Garleans like I nearly did... so..." He huffed. "You're gonna have to trust me. And I have to trust all of you. And hopefully nobody gets killed in all this and I can be thoroughly proven wrong."

Helene Ashton turned and looked at Chance as if asking permission to beat the snot out of him in some respects. Though she didn’t move to do such, she stood there staring at her husband, taking his presence as a form of strength. She then looked to Lloire. “Couple things, yeah? You try to kill yourself again, and I will find someone to drag your ass back from the void. If anything, you fighting all of us should fuckin’ prove how loved you are by many even when you are as ‘broken’ as you are. Two, when you put yourself together again, you are marching your scrawny ass back here and planning an attack on that Garlean trash that messed with you, yeah? Three, you are makin’ everyone dinner.”

Chance Ashton nearly laughed as his Wife laid out her conditions and simply crossed his arms as though to show there was no arguing these conditions. Lloire listened and nodded, without a word. "You got it. When this is said and done... We'll put together a damned Company of Heroes and go bring the fucker to justice and then I'll hold a victory feast."

Helene Ashton stared at him for a few moments again and lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t think you’re comin’ out of this, do ya?”

Lloire stared up at her with a soft expression and shook his head. "On the contrary... I believe with all my heart that I will. I just need all of you to believe it too."

Helene Ashton wrinkled her nose as those freckles danced with the motion. “That was the fastest you ever agreed to somethin’ I said. So, you either must believe that you will, or you are staying positive so we will.” Both hands lifted to rub her temples then. “But I know you are too stubborn so I’m goin’ to trust ya on this one this time.”

Chance Ashton placed a hand on her shoulder and turned to Lloire. "My conditions now brother-in-law... Since this was my fight in theory... One... You don't have to stay here... you are too stubborn to do so... but you will rest before you go seeking anyone else out... Two... You tell us now who is next... Three... know that if my Wife comes back with even a single digit less than she has now... I'll carve from you anything she loses..." Lloire looked between the two and shook his head with a laugh. "I'll rest before the next fight, don't worry. I have to so my aether reabsorbs properly... I'm close to where my old friend Tyranie lives now... so she is likely next... Anything I take should be taken from me. I accept that... But I suspect she will do fine." He turned to Helene and smirked. "You really did need a Sword... He's exactly what I expected for you."

Helene Ashton glanced to Chance and smirked at his list. The last one made her look to Lloire with a grin. “Good. Glad ya agree, yeah?” His comment on ‘Sword’ made her roll her eyes. “Us stubborn types need someone that enables as well as puts us in check. He’s perfect at both.” Leaning down to get to eye level with him now, a mischievous hold took over her grin. “Sound familiar? How’s that Lion tamer of yours?”

Chance Ashton had to hold back from barking a laugh at her comments. Lloire however looked impassive at the taunting. "We'll have to see. You all have been through more of my..." Chance interrupted, "Insanity?" Lloire continued, "...life than she's had to so far, but she's seen enough to maybe have second thoughts by now. I'll let you know at the victory feast." The blue-haired Hyur made to stand. "I need to be on my way Shield, Sword. Thank you both... Continue to take care of one another..."

Helene Ashton took a step back to let him stand. “Let -her- make that choice this time, yeah? Since you’re keen on us proving ourselves.” She let it drop then and switched gears by coming in to wrap him up in a hug this time. Normally tensing at such a motion, she was rigid for a moment in the start, then settled, giving him one good squeeze. “I believe in you an’ all of us. I will see ya at dinner.” She then let go and stepped back like nothing happened, clearing her throat.

Lloire had been surprised by the hug but returned it with a smile before nodding at her and then Chance. "Aye. That's the plan." He stepped past them both, offering Chance another brief nod of respect before heading to the door. He paused as his hand wrapped around the handle. "Just make sure... you don't hold back when the time comes to face Lion, okay? You have to be at your best." With that, he was out the door and heading away.

Helene Ashton nodded to the comment. “I am back on training regimen first thing in the morning.” As he left, she gave a short wave and looked to Chance. “I’m going to need the best gear we can afford.” Despite her cockiness at the best of times, there was a small hint of fear in her gaze.

Chance Ashton took both of her shoulders into his hands and nodded. "Alright. We'll get it figured out." He smiled, his reluctant rare smile. "And you and I will spare between exercises. You'll be more than prepared for him."

Helene Ashton looked down between them and exhaled slowly from puffed cheeks. “It’s mostly the blows from the axe I’m worried about. He isn’t goin’ to tire in that state and that is how you get at that weapon. You tire the user.” She then looked back up at him and shifted her footing into a relaxed state. “But we’ve got time. First, let’s get ya to Benny so he can heal that nose, yeah?”