Blight was a sight more intelligent, at least, than Dread--more a critical thinker. He noticed the swelling chaos and rose higher in the air, banking, and it all seemed to erupt at once.

His grandfather, coursing for the beach in a rain of fire. Shouting. Masses of Oil-beasts clashing with pristine white ones, strangers to him. Shapes tangling in the sky--and he did not yet notice Bone among them. It was Azrael's shout that jerked his attention toward any individual facet of the fight--and with narrowed eyes, and the demon's word in mind, he swiftly reassessed.

Some of those present--he'd fought alongside them in the Black City. He knew they were not the enemy. The white things--they must be, then-? "WHAT ARE THESE?" he roared down to Azrael, daring to fly closer--calling the same question out to any others he might recognize. Perhaps Khavur would be among them, or Labradorite.

"DAD-DAD! I THINK THE WHITE ONES ARE THE BAD ONES?!" he shouted up, and then glanced down, picking out the targets. An idea struck him--one that was risky, but doable. He would do his best to infest those along the ground with his disease. It wouldn't discriminate--but he could purge it, then, from any of the targets that showed themselves not to be the enemy.

Blight dropped lower, tattered wings flaring outward, taking a deep breath. The flow of plague that poured from his jaws sifted down over the sands, threatening to infect anyone in its path with his grim, perfected little disease.

He aimed it for the white creatures, those that seemed cut from a common, unfamiliar cloth--but the corrupted creatures ran the risk of infection, as well. "CALL OUT IF YOU GET ILL," he roared as he lifted higher, readying himself to purge the unintentionally infected.

Blight's disease in this initial stage will inflict: Chills ☣ Extreme Fatigue ☣ High Fever ☣ Delirium
Characters on the beach are welcome to be infected, or escape the strike

A white creature entered the edges of the battlefield following the army of chaos, but this was not a creature of order. Actually, it looked to pretty much be an ordinary dog, if a very fluffy one. And, it was aligned with chaos. Rather than charge in, however, it analyzed the ongoing carnage staying on the sidelines, seemingly.

Its gaze eventually settled on an entity of Order out in the open, though. Master Vargas was being attacked! But still the dog kept a distance. V-Hiddenite-One would be useless in direct combat, it knew. But, indirect combat, perhaps...

The sand, however, targeted the user of the magic, backfiring. It leapt back as quickly as it could, but there were blood stains in its fluffy white fur already. It had been cut by the magic. Magic was truly a double-edged sword.

Orthus had still been distracted, digging at the sand. In its thoughts it mulled over the encounters with the chaotic creatures in Canis. So it had been distracted when The Sentinel came for it. At the last minute, Orthus looked up towards Sentinel's blade. It came down swinging down a a distracted Orthus. Red eyes wide, Orthus swung himself around to throw its tail in the way of that heavy axe swing. A low, angry gurgle left his throat, blood boiling. A fool he had been to doubt Mother's intentions.

The halberd hit Orthus' tail with a heavy crunch, and Orthus felt the blade slice through part of his fin, webbing exposed, marring Mother's perfectly symmetrical form. He felt his muscles twinge underneath the powerful blow, throbbing painfully. Orthus glared at the Sentinel, but before he could speak, his eyes darted towards another creature approaching.

@The Sentinel

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

Gross metaphors

Chaos was upon them.

It had not been the gradual thing of Canis, a seeping of curious oil through the crevices they swept through with great efficiency, not the kittens or pigs that they had crushed between symmetrical tooth and claw. They had come like a flood, a torrent - a horrid rainbow of all of the ways the infection could manifest, oozing and drooling and gnawing, bruise purple and pus green, the bacteria gathering thick at the gums, bubbling and foaming with unthinking and hungry anger; absent of its guiding compass, its connections to the creatures around it -

Absent of Her love. Tragedy. It was barely a way to live. It’s ok, they’d teach them - because that was what they were sent here to do.

He felt panic as two of the largest - twisted figures who glowed sickly where the orb-light could not reach - close in on his smaller brother and sister. “COWARDS.” he hissed aloud, echoing the words Alcina had spat in the battle previous. Would they listen? No, because they were starved of the affection he had been gifted, and they resented his family for it. Green with jealousy. They would never know community, not like he did, not like She did.

More came, dark shapes raining hell from the sky, the flash of white scales and whiter flame as a sister battles another dragon, soaked in corruption and larger than her - even more on the ground, snarling at their heels - focus, focus…

His first opponents rear their ugly, dripping heads. First a lizard, bounding up to his feet before - wumph! Disappearing into one of the sand pits he had conveniently prepared earlier. It was almost comforting, really. But the second; a roaring red devil who’s fire-breath was surging directly toward the drone’s white hide - he worried it. Perhaps if he scuttled to side he could avoid the full force of the attack. There were little alternatives for a creature his size, to his disadvantage.

Orthus was not in the optimum position, not for defending itself against two of Chaos' disturbing agents. especially given that the sand had refused to yield to its claws. After stopping the first weapon strike, Orthus had to twist his body even more violently to try and stop the next, his tail splattering clear blood about the sand, throbbing painfully in protest all the while. Orthus tried to turn his body so that his blunt head hit the flat of Lightning. He had been unprepared for the violent flashes that assaulted his eyes as the centaur swung at him, and tried to blink away the burn in his retinas.

His massive head blocked most of the blows, but scratches from the blade managed to sneak through, drawing clear blood. Sure to scar over eventually.

@The Warden

The flame singed painfully at its flank, but the stream had been cut short, unable to reach its full destructive potential. It’s mind dimly recalled the angel disappearing within the very same fire - he had been lucky.

Luckier than others. Two of the wretched creatures had charged for Orthrus, one swing of a wicked blade hitting home, carving at his form and Her design. How could they. How dare they. ”Say the word brother, and I am beside you.”, sent with the torrent of concern. He must be careful. It has not lost family before.

Now, to other matters - it acted quick, blood red eyes glancing downwards again as it circled the pit of its own making, and the creature trapped within. He had left one of these thing go - he would not allow it again. A leg struck downward, aiming to skewer the reptile’s mid-section. A wound that could (hopefully) not be healed by the body alone.

@Nidhogg

Orthus had not yet had reason to feel fear, but Orthus felt it now. His hearts quickened, his pulse rocketed, as clear cold blood dribbling down his snout. His dual pair of eyes focused on both the Sentinel and the Warden, Mother's righteous rage seeping in. The struggles of his siblings around clouded his mind with words of rage. Through the link, Orthus felt a word echoed throughout. One that now, too, found itself escaping his mouths. "COWARDS!" Orthus roared, tail slamming against the sand. The battlefield began to blaze and around him, and his eyes glinted blood orange in the flames."You dare attack us? You dare attack me in pairs? I am BUSY! I do not want to chew your tainted flesh while I have new textures to try, but I will enjoy spilling your honorless blood."

His jaw opened, and Orthus sprung forward, making to bite down on one of the Warden's legs. Ready to crunch bone or shear flesh, a tinge of fear adding desperation to his strike. Orthus sent an urgent plea down the link as he attacked, begging for his siblings or Mother to send their aid. A brief look towards Juggernaut held unsung but easy to discern meaning--Orthus needed Juggernaut's aid. Orthus might be able to fend off one attacker, but two of them had Orthus wary. Fearful.

@The Warden
@Game Master Dark

Orthus's pleas did not go unanswered. The call rang out along the Hive, in that moment:

"Gather. Do not stray. Defend one another. Converge on Orthus." The host of Praetors were already marching in his direction. "Do not falter. Help is on the way."

United, they were undefeatable.

@Orthus (for visibility)

"FINALLY!" Mirac cried, well and truly overjoyed. "WAR!" The battlefield was everything Mirac could--Mirac had--dreamed of. Magic and blood lanced this way and that as gembound clashed. Strong winds and flames tossed the land about, and a sickly substance poured from a dragon. It was the perfect picture of chaos. Just like the simulations had shown. Oily tears streamed freely as the sword was overcome with emotions. Mirac choked on his tears, a choke that transformed into an unhinged cackled.

"Mirac thinks this is BETTER than the visions! Mirac feels EVERYTHING! Mirac feels TRUE joy." Mirac did not so much care who he was pointed at, so long as he got to participate. So long as he could watch and help unfold carnage. Luckily for most here, Mirac was a weapon with a target.

Mirac's eyes caught one pale creature, unnoticed so far. A target flew above. One that seemed untouched in the conflict so far. "Mmm. Mirac senses TARGET practice!" There was a child-like giddiness in his words. Mirac's gem whined, and a purple electricity crackled from him, locking his muscles. It arched into the sky, spreading the strong, chemical scent of ozone as it shot for Ace. As soon as the pain faded, and his muscles unlocked, Mirac began to scream.

"YOU!" Mirac said, jaws split. There was no telling if Ace could hear him, but Mirac was not about to stop screaming. "MIRAC, the eternal blade of HELLFIRE, DEATH, and DESTRUCTION has chosen you as a WORTHY opponent. MIRAC wishes to FIGHT you. Do BATTLE with MIRAC! And assure our MUTUAL strife and AGONY!"

"speak" think

@Ace

I'd of blown the scoundrel up
Watch his head and heart hiccup
Erupt in tinsel and blue cinders
turn August into winter

Unlike the rest of the Forge, Labradorite had entered the fray from Leo's ocean. It breached the surface not unlike a whale- a ripple of black spikes and red luminescence breaking the surface. It searched for where it was meant to regroup with Vargas and the others, and instead found that war was HERE, upon Leo's beaches. It dipped below the surface, intending on ambushing foes out of the water.

Until it spotted a new target.

An eyeless maw of teeth and icy cold, pallid skin accented with inky blues. It was nearly the opposite of The Labradorite. Eyeless where it had six of them. Slippery tentacles instead of rigid spikes. A nearly inverted palette.

Order instead of Chaos.

It instantly knew This was it's target. And this was what it was made for- the water, where movement was so much easier and more efficient. Where water buoyed it's awkwardly balanced design. Likewise, so was its opponent. It knew by the gills and fins. Those flexible grabbing appendages all the more useful in a space without real up or down.

It was almost afraid. It had only ever killed those too defenseless to fight back. Crushed like eggshells between it's teeth. How could it ever survive a fight upon equal ground?

A resolute sort of determination hit it. It surged forward, jaws opening, aiming to TEAR into Siren's mass of tentacles. All it got was a mouthful of water, an angry blast of bubbles snarling out of it's jaws. It was now in the perfect place for Siren to retaliate, and it was all the too aware of that.

@Siren