Chaos erupted almost immediately, and the tiefling grinned. They weren't here to kill, and any caravaneer who fled would not be pursued, but she was prepared for blood to be spilled this day. These people had cast their lot in with the usurper, and there were consequences to be faced.<br/><br/>As her warriors began wreaking havoc, pulling nobility from their carriages and beating the drivers away from their oxen, she came in for a landing, feathers gleaming in the sunlight as her wings flared out break her descent. She hit the ground running, tucking her wings back in and withdrawing her scimitar in one fluid motion. Still carrying the velocity of flight, the caravan guard she rammed into didn't stand much of a chance, and he staggered as her shoulder collided with his side. Before he could recover, a gauntleted fist was introduced to his face, and he reeled away with a cry of pain, clutching at his broken noise. She turned her attentions elsewhere, seeking her next target, only for a cry of alarm to draw her gaze. She had looked just in time to see one of her rebels sent flying away from a nearby carriage, and as the inhabitant stepped out, her blood turned to ice in her veins. The flames dancing across her wings suddenly died as a look of pure dread entered her eyes.<br/><br/>Before she could react to Dradiro's appearance, however, a shout made her whirl about, narrowly dodging the swinging blade of another guard. She raised her own sword, parrying his next swing and throwing him off balance with a flick of her wrist. Her free hand shot out to hook her fingers in his chestplate, and with a shout, she yanked the startled man forward, tucking her chin downwards so that the base of her horns collided with his face. The vicious headbutt stunned him, and she planted a boot on his chest before kicking him away to face the next opponent. She had become somewhat infamous in her time as a rebel leader, and more than one bounty hunter or aspiring guard had sought to bring in the blue-eyed demon before. Surrounded, she carved her way through the the defenders, seeking desperately to get between Dradiro and her followers. Rage and protective fury had begun to overpower fear, and now her flames returned, blazing brighter than ever. They had been tricked, and now they had the usurper himself to contend with. Dispatching the last of the guards surrounding her, she reached for the battle-horn tied to her belt and raised it to her lips, blowing two short, loud notes that could be heard across the battlefield: a call for retreat. Knowing her followers would obey and scatter into the forest, she turned her eyes back to the fight, searching for the god-king among the chaos.<br/><br/>She caught sight of Dradiro just as he separated a minotaur from his head, ripping a scream out of her at the sight. She knew almost all of her followers by name, and despite his brutish nature, Torvaas had been a courageous warrior and a stalwart ally. The tiefling's legs were moving before she realized it, carrying her towards Dradiro. Maybe taking on a god was suicidal, but at the moment, Aryel simply didn't care. Fire was streaming from her eyes and licking across her arms, tracing down the edge of her blade, her rage nearly causing her to lose control entirely. If her death was the price for buying her warriors a few extra moments to flee, then so be it.<br/><br/>She roared, vaulting herself into the air before bringing her blade down in a vicious overhead chop, seeking to bury it deep in Dradiro's skull. Had she not been so focused on him, she might have seen the reinforcements streaming from the woods to surround the caravan, corralling her fighters and cutting off any chance of escape.