There was nowhere to hide her shades of iniquity now. They pressed against her skull, nefarious and wanton, savage and brutal, clinging to the long-lost grandeur of her resplendent shield. Vicious ardor, gleaming from her pernicious pursuits, chiseled and disentangling, became an unsung stanza along her throat, brewing with powerful conviction, martyred by the wake of her heinous objectives, villainous aspirations. An irreverent haze settled over her heart, attempted to protect it from the sinuous, gliding satanic hands grasping, skimming, caressing along her cranium, settling into the roots of her movements, the staunch, audacious swing of her motions. Deep within her core, a menacing assurance kindled, and like so many fires before it, the embers licked at the coals, the ignition, the rousing depths of desecration, fostering her incised brow. The nymph and fairy belonged to the nightmares, to the twists and turns of demons, to the fanged glow of heathens, and to the wicked junctures of torment and terror, because she didn’t want them to lose again. The discordant throngs echoed in her memory, pieces and shards of regret and remorse, of how she hadn’t ruptured more, of how she hadn’t maimed others, of how she hadn’t torn shreds of dignity from their enemies and scarred them senseless, of how they’d lost and been driven into the arch of these glacial ruins. Her precious entity, alive, compassionate, reeling and tender, could not derive another overwhelming defeat, and would rather lay her bounties of moralities, purities and seraphic glee upon the haunting bolero of a battlefield, then allow another piercing collection of disaster reign over her kingdom. Once more, she forgot the controlled synapses and warm, nurturing bliss of soothing, assuaging harmony, and began to assemble the raw, wild ferocity chained and linked over her blood, intertwining, mingling, and settling into the boughs of her feral finery. A regal, painted canvas torn into remnants of ruthless brushstrokes, fell lyrics and murderous incantations.

Her horn pierced the monster, deep and ravishing, and for a moment she stared upon the wound she’d concocted, felt a strange satisfaction building within her, and wondered how much of it would build into regret. Should she have cared for this creature, tried to urge it to flee, to leave them alone, to drag its icy carcass away, instead of joining the mass of her assembled brethren, unwinding the terror, the destruction, the havoc of her rapier? Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw the flailing gestures of her comrades, pushed, pulled, thrashing and writhing against the armaments of the monster – no, there would be repenting now. She’d protect, she’d defend, and she’d force the corporeal distinction of her calm, serene fixture to be scattered amongst the rubble and wreckage. She’d mold herself into valor, into honor, into treachery, to ensure the safety of her empire. Her narrowed stare caught the beast’s rebuttal towards her assault, and swiftly, quickly, rapidly, she attempted to muster an escape from its rage. Its injury released a curious liquid, matching the concoctions across the frigid walls and territory, and she dared not touch its contents. A dribble of it landed upon her left haunch, and she nearly froze in terror at its shocking distinction, its painful release, but promptly regained her motions – if she stayed in place any longer there would only be more horror, more delusion. Imogen followed suit as they danced beneath its icicle entity, pursuing another notion to ravage the roaring enemy. If they continued to lay siege upon the ogre’s limbs, they’d weaken and shatter its movements, and the less immobile the treacherous essence was, the better for them. Having already brutalized the left front, she hastened beneath its mighty stature for a chance at the opposing part. The shock remaining a burning, persistent pigment in her mind, she twisted her sword again to barb the right foreleg. The kitsune joined in tandem, reaching out to bite upon its unrelenting flesh.

[While attempting to get away from the monster, some of its shocking spittle painfully lands upon her left haunch. Lena uses the opportunity of her placement to run underneath the monster, aiming to stab at his right foreleg. Imogen reaches out to bite at the same limb.]