By Lantern's Light (SI Invasion)

As Thresh gave his orders the Legionnaires nodded at the same time and fell into the formation and advanced on Thresh's command. They moved as one, the same measured steps, same intent burning in the orange light of their eyes. Though they were expendable, attackers would find it hard pressed to deter them from their orders.

It was close, so very close, and drawing closer with every instant. It would be mere moments before Thresh could at last be with them once again, to at last have his companions returned to him. Then it would be only a matter of petitioning to the King himself, to at last 'cash in' on his centuries of constant toil. True, he had not slain quite as many as he had been expecting to, but then he had not been expecting to be parted from the Lantern. There would be plentiful carnage awaiting him as he left the city, no doubt. As the fools retreated from the Isles' almighty onslaught, Thresh would be waiting for the routed warriors, his powers fully restored. So close now, so very...what was this? Interlopers, gathered 'round the Lantern's comforting light.

"...what have we here, then?" Thresh asked, his voice emanating from the darkness shrouding the city, intermixing with the pounding rain. "I do believe we have met before, yes..."

Preceded by his honor guard, Thresh stepped forth from the nightmarish shroud and into the square, taking in the scene that lay before him. The Lantern lay exactly where it had fallen before, though the pool of liquid around it was certainly new. Tearing his longing gaze from his metaphorical partner-in-crime, he settled upon the girl, a bow of sorts in hand. The man beside her seemed familiar as well, as if his presence had just been neared in recent memory.

"Ahh, of course," the Warden noted after a moment of thought. "The Prince's painted doll. I do hope you appreciated the gift that I bestowed upon the happy couple, yes..." To his annoyance, the spirit he had infested her with seemed to have vanished; he had been toying with the idea of reawakening it and watching her butcher her accomplice. Where had the man been befo-

"...and Azazel," Thresh continued, voice lowering into a snarl. "It would appear that His Majesty's trust was misplaced, you glorified corpse worm. A traitor to the King, mingling with Demacia's royal whore. Under normal circumstances, I would offer my best wishes. But these are hardly normal circumstances, and you two have something that belongs to me." With a deepening scowl, Thresh snapped his chain-scythe forward, the accursed metal gouging through the cobblestones only a couple of feet in front of the couple. "Stand aside and I shall allow you two to keep your worthless hides. Otherwise, you can lie down and die with the rest of your countrymen."

In the Paranoia, Gillam stood with his eyes closed. He would accept his fate, and the cruel beasts would take him without any trouble whatsoever. He had already broken his leg...heck, he should have died over 100 years ago in his time!

"Who am I kidding...I don't belong here." Gillam whispered to himself, eyes still firmly closed. "Should've just died to the Noxians...damn cowards they were, but at least I would have died where I belonged...in the FUCKING THIRD RUNE WAR!" Gillam said that last part significantly louder, however, his tone did not go over a whisper.

Wait... Voices. Of...they were of the Shadow Isles. However, two did seem human. One was of a male, and the other... "Belle" Gillam muttered. His eyes shot open, and he silently got a grip on his lance and buckler.

Gillam crept towards the lantern, which he had abandoned right when the Paranoia set in. Instantly regretting that Desicion, Gillam gritted his teeth, roaming towards wherever those beasts were...and wherever Belle was.

Gillam silently reaches the lantern, careful not to step to close as to be illuminated by the spectral light. At last, he can see Belle very close to him in the lantern's light. Gillam scans the area around the lantern, and can barely make out two other figures. However, he can sense many more around the unidentified figures, most likely their escort.

Gillam squints towards the unlit silhouettes. One appears to be an ordinary man, however, the other is not shaped as a human would. Gillam silently curses under his breath, identifying the figure.

Thresh.

Jarvan had warned Gillam about Thresh. The Chain Warden, a ghost from the Shadow Isles. Gillam was told that he enjoyed harvesting souls from the living, and using a lantern to aid in this task.

"Wait a minute..." Gillam mutters, realizing why Belle was so fearful of the lantern.

It was Thresh's.

"In hindsight, I should have slain you when we perchance met upon the frontlines," Thresh mused, running a claw along his gaunt mask of a face. "A simple twist of my hand and I could have extinguished the taint within, or perhaps set the hooks to you. But perhaps now with the dreary battle behind the lot of us, we shall have time. Time, to let the imagination roam..."

With a nonchalant swagger to his step, Thresh began to slowly advance, clearly taking his time as he tossed his acquired sword and his scythe between hands. The girl would prove little trouble, no doubt. The spirit that inhabited her body was gone, likely at the machinations of Azazel, but it meant less than nothing to him in the grand scheme of things. Azazel, however, could prove troublesome. Destruction would not be his fate; the spectral summoner would be dragged bound and screaming before the Ruined King himself and made to suffer for his little power play.

"I never imagined that you would stoop to such petty attempts at politicking though, summoner," Thresh continued, his almost amiable tone contrasting sharply with his rattling chains and ever intensifying spirit flames. "You would dare tamper with the possessions of the High Undead? An insulting attempt at ascending to higher echelons, Azazel."

His grim condescension came to a pause as he lent his ear to one of his Legionnaires, nodding slightly as he took note of yet another of the living emerged from the mist. "Indeed," he conceded with a nod, "Azazel shall be taken in, though in what condition I care not. The living...kill them, and I shall do the rest."

Turning his head slightly towards the living and Azazel once more, Thresh's slight smile was the only semblance of warning before he acted. With a large step forward, Thresh pulled back his left arm before hurling his sword at the duo before the Lantern, the curved blade spiraling through the air by the Warden's unholy strength. With the same movement, a slight glow formed around Thresh's throwing arm; barbed chains were wrapped about it, then springing to life at his bidding. The cursed chains darted forward almost as quickly as the thrown blade, but they did not seek the flesh of the living. The Lantern was their target, with all of its soul-rending power.

Azazel simply watched as Thresh approached, was he honestly that dim? To think Azazel would betray the king? He had just delivered the girl right into thresh's hands, damned near gift wrapped. He narrowed his eyes, his voice would enter Thresh's mind,
"You idiot, you truly believe I would betray the king?! She is a prize for the king, she will serve him and his needs. I can veil her eyes you fool. Should she die, it would break the Prince, but. If we take her to where he cannot reach her, knowing she is alive and most likely suffering. It would not only break him, but destroy him entirely."

The Priest would look upon Belle, pity showed in his eyes,
"You can do this my child. The Creator is with you, he will protect you and provide."

The Priest flicked his wrist, a small sliver of golden light shoot outwards, burning brilliant golden runes into the ground roughly a meter in front of Belle. They would activate should anything harmful cross them with the intent to hurt Belle, trapping whatever it was in a prism of light, be it a weapon or a person.