The brazen star hovered overhead washing the capital in its crimson light, the sky itself turned the color red as the war for Radasanth continued. Hundreds or more unrecognizable corpses riddled the land, friend and foe alike the casualties were undoubtedly massive. It was unlike anything Ioder had ever seen, far surpassing mother dragon, the bastards of the Brotherhood put Moonwing's rampage to shame. How on earth would the capital ever recover? How could the people forgive those responsible for such a bloody night? The aging wizard continued to fight as if his life depended on it, he and a handful survived the assaults of both Storm Veritas and Shinsou though it was now a fight for survival.

Ioder and the others had taken refuge behind a large pile of rubble, formerly the eastern barricade, as Shinsou advanced taking down the archers on the postern wall. Gingerly the spellsword peered from cover as the rest of the Brotherhood soldiers began to spill into the city following their general. Ioder looked back at the twenty-five or so soldiers still standing behind him. He thought to himself that maybe three or four of them looked to be well enough to still make a stand, but the others wouldn't be much help. They had to do something or the city would fall, their moment was nigh.

“Ser,” one of the more wounded soldiers at Ioder’s command spoke up as he limped his way forward. “We’re not dumb, those sons of bitches are gonna kill us all at this rate.” He and the others looked up to Ioder as the captain gazed back at them knowing what was going to happen.

“What are you saying soldier?” Ioder said hearing the truth. He may have a chance but the others, he wouldn't be able to save them. “Have you all given up?”

“No Ser, if we all die tonight, then we will all die on our own terms.” the man said as he rose his sword high in the air as Philomel did on the wall. The others behind him did the same as they all accepted the reality of their grave situation. “I had my chance to flee, we all did, but what kind of men would that make us!”

“Brave words coming from the bruised bunch of ya, who am I to stomp on your spirits!” Ioder sais as he turned to face the horde of soldier stampeding beyond the rubble and into the city. He brought both his swords up to share the moment before wiping them violently to either side. He studied the enemy ranks, watching the bulk move past the eastern barricade and a number of thinner streams of men following behind. Though he had mastery over many arcane arts Ioder was never one for tactics, relying on others in most cases and executing their orders. But now it was his moment to lead, and he formulated a rudimentary strategy.

“As they begin to stagger we make our move, halt the forward movement of the supply lines, finish the work on the siege and see if that dirt dragon is still kicking about. If we even manage half of that then you will have all died with honor.” Ioder finished as he turned back to his men, determination in his eyes.

What happened next could only be described as a masterful display of complex spellcasting intertwined with ages of experience. Ioder from amidst a crimson glare vaulted over the rubble landing in the middle of brotherhood grunts slicing those closest to him asunder. His twin blades quickly made work of the surprisingly well equipt infantry, but who could really prepare for everything. As he slashed them down one by one dark ether leaked from his very soul hardening like plate mail over his skin. Finally, in an explosion of energy, he reared back his ancient dragon bone sword and with a mighty forward swipe let loose a volley of blades. Like ghosts, invisible swords flew from the tip of his masterwork weapon ending the lives of the enemies around him like a violent unblockable typhoon.

“Nows our chance, don't hold anything back!” he yelled as the others joined the fight. “Straight for the siege!”