'Such a refreshing rain...'
Footsteps walked calmly through the raining lightning. The island's storm was as always, ferocious, with a constant stream of lightning falling in almost a rain like fashion. It was only thanks to a specially designed umbrella containing a Lightning Lacrima that he could even walk so calmly. He had a few hours of time before the natural lightning could overcharge it. The guild was very kind to give all members one of these. Warden, the man under the umbrella, enjoyed the smell of ionizing air particles. He had been away for a few days on an important, but overall lowly task. He left his son at the guild hall, under the protection of the more level-headed members he'd befriended. Warden was very mistrusting of news, and hadn't picked up any information pertaining to the events that transpired a couple days prior to this time. And thusly Warden was in for a shock.
What he saw before him, was not a guild. It was a rampant mob of the Guild's cultists. The sight was extremely shameful to say the least. Within and around the guild hall was just a rampaging hurricane of members attacking eachother, the insane psychopaths of the guild shouting something about Naraku. Lady Naraku was a very egotistical woman in her reign, a lot of the members of the guild worshipped her, making about 90% of the guild a group of cultists. Warden wasn't a cultist, but he respected her power, it was enough to lead a whole Guild of psychopaths and killers, much more than Warden himself could claim. Even the more powerful members of the guild didn't appear to be present. With the level of pathetic warring going on, Warden presumed them dead by this point. Thusly there weren't even powers similar to that of Naraku to focus on. So he would begin to walk through the crowd. He weaved through blows intended for others, not disturbing combat for anyone. No, their discomfort for their brawls was none of his concern. He made it to the door with hardly a scratch on him, though he wasn't perfect, he had some bruises on his chest and stuff, but he saved his face, which mattered.
He stared down the door to the hall, barricaded. Probably to seperate the fights more than to keep them out. Warden would place the tip of the umbrella into the keyhole, causing lightning to charge the whole guild hall, flinging the barricade aside. Warden would feel a sudden panic. Like he was missing something. A wave of spells seemed to retaliate at the door opening, and Warden wouldn't stay still. His appearance blurred for a moment, and he was already past the spell launchers, wearing armor with wings on it. "Christopher!?" he called out his son's name, a robotic tone stemming from the sound lacrima replacing his vocal cords that reminds him of his ruined life. The sight of the guild's war almost made him forget the only thing that kept him sane enough to bear with life. He heard mutterings of psychophants around him, but not the only thing that mattered. "CHRISTOPHER?!?" he would shout passionately, the voice modulating lacrima glitching to sound like a child's voice. A wave of people flung at him, weapons in hand, spellbound and otherwise. He would suddenly have a weapon in hand, "Yasha's Golden Flash!" The weapons around him shattered, all low quality. Warden listened through the raining shards of metal. He would resheathe the sword after a moment, and start walking, his eyes furious and worried in a combination that should never be seen. The most primal people ran away, and from under a table, Warden felt a tug on his pant leg.
His eyes shot down and he saw tiny hands holding on. "Daddy..." whined a weak, hoarse, and young voice. Warden would kneel down immediately, ducking under a slash, to see his son, bleeding from many cut wounds and a small burn scar about the size of a pebble an inch under his eye. "What the...?" Warden would stammer. He would pick his child up and headed right for the medical bay, flying right past the combat. Warden slammed his foot to the door and flung it open. Nobody conscious inside, Warden would set his boy on the healing bed. "Just... wait here," he would say. He would turn around and barricade the door shut for a bit with a chair. Warden would see that a large number of guild cultists were ready to assail him immediately. He gave a cold stare. He couldn't handle this situation, he used a bit too much magic too quickly. "So... It's come to this... Over a false goddess, an idol and nothing more," he spoke, the robotic tone making him seem a bit more gruff. "Instead of thinking about your life, you resort to violence to displace the false fury instilled in you. You attack eachother, harm the innocent, for a mishap with Naraku? Sickening," he would state. The eyes of the psychophants glanced down, considering his words.
Warden suddenly saw something, a twinkle of hope. He would smile a bit, "At least you are not completely lost." His words were satisfactory for now, the violent beasts were calmed. This gave him an idea. He would lead an insurrection. A war within the guild. His eyes lit up, "Follow me. We need to stop the senseless violence first, and then we work things out."