After the Behemoth fell, and the earth shook with its impact, and the rubble ceased falling, quiet restored, only to be broken again by the cheers of the survivors.

Felia's fell short as she realized how many voices could not join theirs. She scrambled off the top of the gate and started drafting Privates, recruits, and even citizens and adventurers in to recovery crews, hauling rubble and debris, hoping beyond hope to pull out any survivors of the gates wreckage. Once some kind of organization was formed, Felia threw herself into the task, hauling out debris and dragging free bodies, sobbing as the adrenaline fades, as well as with the dispair of witnessing her beloved home shattered, and having witnessed the carnage of the corrupted creature upon her fellow wardens, allies, and friends. She let out a wail to the heavens with each body dragged free, never to share milk with her again, and leaving her to carry on with this burden without them. She would not stop even as the light began to fade, long past exhaustion, her claws splintered and bloody from scrabbling at debris, black bile, blood, mucus, and tears frozen to her fur.

At last, she too had to be carried away, another casualty of the night, though unlike the unlucky souls she was fated to recover after some rest, and her internal injuries from the corruption mend.

If her soul would recover, only time would tell.

Even as he helped with the clearing of the rubble, Jaeson was one of two tasked to carry the exhausted frame of Felia back to the barracks.

He knew as he worked he had been one of the lucky ones... resisting the corruption, avoiding the falling debris... and now he owed it to them who had fallen to help find them and give them what peace he could.

The other helping carry the light form of Felia Made sure that They returned her to her cot. Before they left, Jaeson murmured a few words in Draconic and the mess that matted her fur, that stained her fingers.... slowly faded. Her claws would heal in time, and all he could hope was that the losses she had suffered wouldn't cripple the bouncy feline.

And so, with a heavy heart, he returned back to the thankless task of moving debris, finding the dead, and watching other wardens share the same silent grief as his friend.

Snowdrop had been the other that helped Felia back to her bunk. By now, she had been warming to Felia and she considered her, her best friend. Part of her was actually hoping that she could be more.

Snowdrop too was sad, witnessing the devastation, and all she could spare Felia was her last Cure Light Wounds spell, a hug, and a light kiss on the cheek. She too hoped the felinoid would regain her bounce, and she promised herself she would do all she could to make that happen.

She then went back to the task, using her small frame and large dexterity to check out holes and gaps in the rubble in the search for trapped survivors.

Kaelen stood over the massive corpse of the corrupted beast, his axes heavy in his hands, coated with the ichor of the slain monstrosity. Around him, the air was thick with the mingled stench of death and ruin, the distant cries of survivors cutting through the eerie quiet that followed the cheers. He wiped his brow, smearing blood and grime across his face, his breath steadying as the fire of his rage finally dimmed. The cold began to settle in, a sharp reminder of the wounds he’d earned during the battle. His side throbbed where the beast’s attack had struck, the pain dulled only slightly by the lingering adrenaline. With a grimace, he pulled a tattered strip of cloth from his belt pouch, pressing it against the deepest wound to staunch the bleeding.

Kaelen moved through the wreckage with a purposeful gait, avoiding the clusters of Wardens and citizens who worked to clear the rubble. He passed by the broken gates and leaned briefly against a crumbled stone wall, pulling out a small flask from his belt. The liquid inside wasn’t for drinking, it was a tincture he’d been carrying for situations like this. He poured some onto his wounds, hissing through clenched teeth as it burned, then wrapped the cloth tighter. He didn’t join the recovery crews. That wasn’t his role. Instead, he walked the perimeter, his sharp eyes scanning for signs of lingering corruption. The beast’s aura might have faded with its death, but Kaelen knew better than to assume the danger was gone. He didn’t offer comfort to the grieving, nor did he join in the tasks of clearing the dead. Instead, he focused on what he knew: staying vigilant, ensuring the immediate threat was fully extinguished.

As the light began to fade, Kaelen paused on a rise overlooking the battlefield, his golden eyes narrowing as he surveyed the broken city below. He rested his hand on the hilt of one axe, the weight grounding him in the present. There would be time to rest later, time to think about what had been lost and what he’d fought for. For now, he stayed where he was, a sentinel against whatever else the tundra might throw their way.

Pirith blamed himself a bit as he helped clear the rubble, pulling people from the rubble. If he had just arrived another few seconds earlier than perhaps his ability to help others pin point their attacks to better strike and do damage to the creature would have helped the others bring the creature down before it had burst through the gates.

Just a few seconds is all he thought as he worked doing his best to make the next few seconds count for the survivors then the next few seconds after that. Mindlessly working, his magic spent in fighting the corrupted all he had was his meager strength and constitution. But still he worked, pains of guilt even as did so.

It was good that it hadn't gotten further into the city, hadn't crushed civilian homes, hadn't brought it's disgusting miasma along with it to mutate. One less powerful follower of the corruption...and this two brought a bit of pause to him. How many of these things were on the other side of that portal?

Later in the next day, Felia returns to the barracks, and though the crowd is smaller than usual, she hops up on a table to grab attention. Her voice is still horse and scratchy from the day before.

"Everyone, listen up. This is important. If you were at the battle, and exposed to corruption, take the time to go to the temple today. Now, preferably. They will help you. This is important. Please tell everyone else you see, so we dont end up with someone turning in the middle of the city. Thank you for your time and attention."

having arrived back to the city from his time patrolling the tundra he missed the battle... The soft fluffy fur of his head wear mirrors the soft white f the fur of the two wolves that flank him on either side as he walks out of the morning mist to survey the destruction of the gate with hard eyes. His walking stick pokes through the snow and makes a solid tap on the frozen ground occasionally.

How did this happen? Why did none of the scouts see this coming and warn the gates? Something is amiss. I know I promised you both some time to rest, but I feel a greater threat is out there. Perhaps Selvara is placing a warning in my mind. Come my friends, the sooner we track where this beast came from the sooner we get the answers our family needs.

setting his survival gear with a quick cinch and practiced hand he laid a hand on each of his companions heads both for comfort and to comfort them.

Selvara guides us, let us go.

with determined stride the three head out into the wild tracking the back trail of the behemoth seeking answers as to why none from his house warned the city of the behemoth's coming.