Aindreas was late… he knew it, and so would everyone else. It was not what he had planned originally, but nothing could be done to help it. After all, when he had been traveling toward Laod Mor, he had felt a strong gust of emotion coming from Losa, had felt her fear, her anger, and yet his mind ultimately was telling him to go in a different direction entirely. His entire genetic makeup had screamed at Aindreas, telling him to go to her, protect her, that he was her Oferweder and must do whatever it took to protect her, but his mind told him to continue on, for the war. But his blood proved to be stronger, and so even though he was more than halfway to the battle front, he turned around and started running the other way entirely. Perhaps 10, 15 minutes later he felt a steady where those frantic emotions had been previously – it looked like Losa was all right… It was frustrating, because now he was behind schedule for arriving at the vampire blood bath… and already the smell of blood was in the air. He did not want to miss out on this – after all, Aindreas’ own daughter had been murdered by Lucaya, the vampire queen. There was a time when he would have felt mercy, when he would have been forgiving, but that time was long since past. He wanted blood for blood, and would do whatever it took to get it. The Aethele snarled and jumped over fallen log, only to find his paws sticking and slipping the ground underneath it, nearly causing him to stumble and fall. This was, perhaps, the worst possible place for the fights to occur. There was no solid footing, only a sopping mess of mud and moss… But at least everyone will be at the same disadvantage.

He pushed himself forward, then heard of roar from a set of vocals that were all too familiar to him - they belonged to his father, Kalgalath. The king arrived just in time to see his father start to crumble to the earth. Frantic, Aindreas’ arctics swept over his father, looking for the fatal wound, but there was only a single gash on his shoulder. It was bleeding, but nothing that would cause that much pain – Kalgalath was a seasoned fighter afterall… And then it hit him - there was a reason this was to be a Tempest and vampire fight - the others could be easily affected by the vampires power and poison. Fear leapt into his throat as he saw both Khaleesi and Seraphina there, and he positioned himself in front of them before turning around and barking orders at them.

“You two both need to get back! I won’t risk your lives to the fate of these devils‘ poison.” Not that it was much different for the Tempests - they would still be risking their lives during the battle, but at least they could counteract or at least nullify the dangers of the vampires, leveling the playing field. He swept his head back around and in time to see two more bodies running into the fray - one he knew all too well, and the other was a female stranger.

“Draven!”

Aindreas had met him before, over year ago, when Draven had raped and nearly killed the first Losa that Aindreas had ever met. Aindreas had fought him then and unfortunately had let him escape… something that he now sorely regretted doing. He had not known that Draven had become a vampire, but it only made sense - Draven had been a demon before, he was surely now the devil himself. A hint of confusion crossed his face as he glanced at the female who had arrived with Draven - she was crying. Was she meant to be a distraction? But Aindreas could not waste another instant on her, and instead focused all of his rage upon Draven. The magic leapt bidden into his veins and surged him forward, streaking across the land, the mud hardly pulling out his paws at all. He was all teeth and claws as he leapt through the air, aiming to land on the back of Draven‘s neck to snap it, or, if his grip was not good enough, at least use his weight to send Draven flying into one of the nearby swamps. He knew from fighting Draven in the past that the other did not fight clean, and so Aindreas would not either. Aindreas had no intention of being so foolish as to think that there was any possible way his first had killed the vampire. And so if he had messed and had toppled over, he was scrambling to his paws, leaping now for Draven‘s throat‘s, whether the vampire was right next to him, or in the middle of the pool…