Tendal glances over at Snake, "I find myself as curious as you, Snake. I haven't the faintest idea what they are waiting for. If this were a game of bounders, and everyone around the table had the same expression that those gentlemen skulking over there, I would be certain there was someone coming up from behind with a sap, or a knife." he says, anxiety slipping unbidden into his voice.
"I hate waiting..."
"Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say," he responds, taking a look behind them just for good measure. "Well, I'm tired of waiting. Be ready."
Snake then moves up toward the awaiting thug. He glances around looking for an ambush as he does, keeping himself a moderate distance from him. "Tired of these games, bub. What is it you want? You've obviously been waiting for us." He cuts his eyes in both directions, still looking for that ambush.
Tendal follows Snake as he moves forward, knuckles white as he grips his cane, his other hand free to begin an incantation or dive for a scroll.
"No one told me we were in any hurry...", Gristav grouses, moving to keep the wizard and witch in sight.
As Snake emerges from beneath the shifting shadows of the forest canopy, the Varisian man's eyes widen in shock. "You! How did you--?" His hands go to the blades at his belt, and he draws a rapier.
As the Varisian draws his weapon, "Finally. Now we're gettin' somewhere." Snake narrows his eyes at the thug, a red glow emanating from the depths within. "Hit him with some kind of magic, bub," he tells Tendal, "I've made it a bit tougher for him to try and shake it off."
Lucky keeps himself hidden within the pack for now.
Startled by Snake's sudden request, Tendal whips the cane up and points it at the man. The cane leaps from his hand, an unnatural unbalanced missile, traveling as if on a wire towards the man's torso.
The cane jumps back after the impact into his outstretched hand.
"My apologies Snake, it is a waste of a spell to reduce one singular enemy. I would like to see how his comrades react before I utilize my meagre repertoire."
Nodding, "Fair enough. Let's see what they got."
The Varisian momentarily cringes in fear as Snake's eyes glow red, just before Tendal's cane shoots across the space between them to deliver a glancing blow to the arm he throws up in defense.
Gristav, conversationally conspicuous although all alone, continues counter-clockwise circling of the suspected Sczarni station... "They learn where they're fed, is my understanding, and if not fed, go where they will be...", he says, as if to someone following him closely.
Gristav continues to follow the path around toward the west. He can now see a door in the nearest building and another in a building farther south.
"...presumably, this would serve well in the wild, it's just good fortune, then engineering, that it serves us as well. Well, if engineering applies to creatures. I suppose as much as any math applies to multiplication..."
Gristav follows the path to the corner and finds that it doubles back toward the waiting Varisians through the midst of the crumbling buildings. The man in the open isn't in his line of sight from here, but the man inside the building is; Gris can see that he is holding a loaded crossbow.
The man who addressed the group upon arrival draws a dagger in his other hand as he advances toward Snake and drives the point of his rapier directly through the thin layer of magical deflection surrounding him and deep into the witch. "Don't worry," he hisses. "This time, I'll make sure you're dead."
As his blood pours freely, Snake just stares at the thug with a grimace. "Good. That way I won't have to listen to you run your big mouth any longer. NI AKIRIS PROBLEMOJN!" he yells, attempting to alert the others as he steps back and brings forth more magic in an attempt to aid him.
Snake steps back and incants a spell, and instantly, billows of thick mist swallow up him, Tendal, and his attacker.
Braddon bursts forth from the foliage and races towards the shout, with a quick glance at Gristav.
"Fancypants isn't gonna believe a word I say if Gristav isn't useful in this fight. Ah well, we're not dead yet."
Braddon scuttles along the edge of the building and into the edge of the fog, both blades drawn.
Braddon rushes into the cloud of mist and is brought up short as he almost plows into Tendal.
Tendal is startled by the sudden viciousness and fury of the man's attack on Snake, and Snake not defending himself that well.
That did not look good, and now Snake seems a bit panicked...I hope he is not injured too badly.
No telling how long this spell of his is going to last...we need to get some distance, and withdraw to a better position.
Tendal's hand dives into his pouch, his hand rooting around in the bag until his fingers brush across a familiar wax seal. He quickly withdraws the scroll, breaks the seal and reads the words printed on the scroll. The magical circuit completed, there is a momentary wafting of frying pig fat in the air, and a glistening sheen coats the ground before Tendal and Snake.
Round 2:
Gritting his teeth Phillip considers the wisdom of emerging from his lurk versus remaining hidden and frowns as the realization that the die is cast comes through the haze of consideration. With sure foot and lengthy strides he moves to take position against the side of the building, snatching a glance through the window as he draws forward...
...ducking under the rim of the barred window, Phillip better positions himself to keep a weather eye on all proceedings.
From his position, Gristav can see no one, neither enemy nor ally. The southeastern corner of the building to his left appear to have crumbled away, leaving it open to the air at that point.
Gristav hesitates.
Inside the cloud, Snake and Tendal see the Varisian suddenly loom out of the mist in front of them. The footing, given Tendal's spell, is insecure, however, and his swipe at Snake is tentative, missing the witch completely.
Snake backs out of the mist in hopes to give himself a chance to gather himself. "He got me good, Luck." He pulls back his hand from his midsection - both being covered in blood. "If I fall, you need to get away, Luck. As far away from this place as you can get."
Gristav moves toward the mist. Passing the crumbled corner, but seeing Snake to the North, unengaged, Gristav allows himself the moment to examine the structure's contents, before moving to support Snake.
Braddon shuffles forward into the space abandoned by Snake.
"Boo," he grins at the figure before him. He follows up with a wide sweep of his bastard sword.
Snake cautiously ducks away from his attacker until the intervening mist wipes him from view, then stumbles past Braddon and out into the open. The witch appears out of the cloud bleeding heavily from a wound to his torso.
As Gristav approaches the crumbled corner of the building, a sudden twang and a flicker of movement catch his attention a split second before a crossbow bolt tears a gash in his upper arm.
"My very best jacket!", Gristav exclaims in meliflous mockery of a Magnimarian mage's mein.
"Well, hello to you, too.", Gristav says to the crossbowman without irony, crossing the distance between them, his eyes and smile crisping cold, a coldness carrying to the end of his staff, deliberately driven onto the floor, dragged diagonally with due diligence, sparking starlit motes of winter, flaring in the manner of a tindertwig, flameless but frostful.
Gristav nimbly reverses the frosting stave, and away from the foot's fair feint, the head strikes strongly.
...or that was the plan.
"You know, what ought to have happened by now?", Gristav batters the badguy by badinage. "More of you. And since it hasn't, you haven't. Strike your colors, and I shan't strike you. Or be delivered to your mother like winter's ice."
Gristav's staff misses his assailant.
Braddon moves through the fog, following Snake's path as best he can, until he spies an unfamiliar face. Assuming this must be their enemy, he strikes, but his blade is turned by the fine chainmail the other man is wearing.
Braddon moves through the fog, following Snake's path as best he can, until he spies an unfamiliar face. Assuming this must be their enemy, he strikes,but his blade is turned by the fine chainmail the other man is wearing.
"Cappi!" the man yelps as Braddon's sword opens a wound. "Hemendik eta lagundu dit!"
"Why hello Mr. Hurst." Tendal said, glancing at the half-elf as he ghosted out of the mist and quickly injured the thug.
"I think I need to step behind you for a moment. Melee is not my forte by nature, and I don't relish the idea of a foot of steel through my guts. But since I will be unable to see anything going on in this fog, I will simply assist you."
Stepping behind the engaged warrior, Tendal rummages through his bag of scrolls once more. Finding the correct one he unrolls it scans it and completes the spell. As the scroll disintegrates into ash, a silver glow begins to emanate from the fingers of his left hand.
Tendal waits for a moment, his eyes tracking Braddon's weapon in the murk. The next moment that Braddon's blade stills between parry and riposte, he leans forward, reaches out and taps the blade lightly, transferring the glow.
Tendal takes cover behind the doughty half-elf and arcanely enhances his bastard sword.
A voice answers the first man's shout from somewhere south of the cloud of mist. "Non zaude? Ezin dut besterik lainoa sartu tiro."
Unwilling to expose himself by moving into the mist, and playing up upon words already spoken by their opponents - Phillip adds to the shouted words "S!~* - Bastards South datozen gehiago!" hoping that the words might draw at least a moment's distraction. He then lays ready his crossbow in case of a clear target presenting itself...
"Bai! bat lortu nuen!" Gristav's adversary calls out.
"Talde han eta lagun Emiliu! Han izango naiz laster! Honek ez luke luze ...." Braddon's opponent gifts the half-elf an unpleasant sneer. His foe in reach and with no reason to move from the temporary security his feet have found, he lashes out with both weapons. The slender blade of the rapier bends against Braddon's chain shirt, but the dagger's point darts between the links and strikes home, drawing blood.
The third of the Varisians, goaded out of his safe place, appears in Gristav's peripheral vision just south of the cloud of mist. Raising the crossbow still in his hands, he triggers the weapon, and the bolt tears a channel across Gristav's left shoulder.
Get out there and help Emiliu! I'll be there shortly! This shouldn't take long....
"Out, Luck. Gonna need you to take to that tree that's partially covered in the mist." He eyes and motions toward said tree.
The mongoose doesn't hesitate as he makes a break for the tree.
Once Lucky makes his way out, Snake reaches in his pack and grabs a vial, pulls out the stopper and downs it.
With a chitter of disapproval, the mongoose dashes into the cloud of mist.
Snake manages to find a modicum of healing in the tiny vial.
The Varisian in the crumbling house drops his empty crossbow on the debris-littered floor with a clatter and detaches a heavy-looking sap from his belt, swinging it murderously at Gristav's left ear, but the half-elf just manages to evade the weapon.
"Zure ama, pena ekarri duzu, ostalaritza esate batera.", Gristav reprimands, rounding rightish, reaving rime, a second hand settling on the spinning staff...
Stepping further into the crumbling building so that his back doesn't provide such a tempting target, Gristav swings again; this time his staff makes contact with his assailant, delivering both a physical rap and an arcane chill.
"Ooh, that feels nice," Braddon comments to Tendal on the gentle flow of his newly enchanted Bastard Sword.
He turns back to his opponent and scowls.
"Two weapons, huh? Let me show you how it's done, 'cause if you fight like you SPEAK COMMON then you need all the help you can get!"
Braddon's oversized blade cuts through his opponent like butter, but the smaller weapon fails to connect.
"This mist is moderately annoying." Tendal says grumpily. "I cannot see if you have dispatched your opponent, Mr. Hurst, or if we are simply fighting shadows now. I am however glad that the enhancement magic on your blade meets your approval. I have one more spell that I might try to give you a further advantage, but as I cannot tell what is happening, I will assume that you have this gentleman well under control at this point, and will simply keep my eyes open for any new assailants."
Phillip delays a moment longer - not entirely sure exactly where the foes are at the moment...
Without a target, Phillip waits.
Inside the cloud of mist, the Varisian strikes again. This time, the dagger misses, and it is his rapier that tastes Braddon's blood. "Your traitorous friend," he sneers, "is he worth dying for?"
The Varisian south of the mist discards his crossbow in the dirt at his feet and runs to help his companion in the derelict hut with Gristav.
As his wound manages to close up a bit due to the healing potion, "It'll have to do." He then looks back up at the mist. "Yeah, that's gonna have to go." Snake then proceeds to dismiss his handiwork.
At a word from Snake, the mist vanishes, revealing that both Braddon and his opponent look badly hurt.
Round :
Assessing the revealed situation Phillip pauses for a split second before realising that if the man before Braddon was able to wound the half-elf so keenly... he was likely the greater threat. Stalking along the side of the building he gets to a position where a bead might be drawn, and with a whispered invocation of Calistria's sting... let's fly...
MW Light Crossbow (Adaptable Luck, Judgement): for
Confirm?: for additional
...the unlikely crossbow bolt lancing through the narrow gap of space available like a silken thunderbolt hungrily seeking Varisian flesh...