"Thank you, dear friend," the elf maiden says to the raven-haired beauty. "Trudging through the wilderness with sodden underclothes is certainly not the best of times. Your magical touch is appreciated."
"Oh, my," the oracle mutters softly. "Do you think the creature is aware of us?"
She strokes Whisper's mane worriedly. "I don't want to imagine it hurting my dear friend."
"Where?" Vladimir asks excitedly, not having seen the creature in question with any detail.
"That thing that just went over the hill? A wyvern? We need to investigate further." he says, climbing back onto Shadow's back.
"So we hunt then? Gyahahaha, Garborn likes a good hunt. Though, never had Wyvern meat before, exciting!"
Nico grins. "We are adding ourselves to the short list of people who see a wyvern, and then deliberately head towards it."
"Hah! Getting into the spirit? Good! Will make a liver of life out of you yet!
Before we done, you'll try to wrestle Wyverns, while drunk, and with pants on head, gyahahahahaha!"
Garborn pauses, looks contemplative and then grins.
"Actually, sounds fun! Garborn wants to try himself now! Not to worry though, can share this one wyvern with everyone, Garborn not greedy."
Continuing to follow the now widening tracks, you go around the next hill. You see tightly grouped copse of sizable trees.. ringed with ground covering vegetation - a thicket about ten feet deep. You see the wyvern crashing into the trees as if trying to get to something elusive within. Many large limbs and even a couple slim trees have been toppled.
The thicket-ringed copse is about two hundred feet from you.
"It does not matter what the creature is after, we need to deal with it now and worry about the rest afterward." Vladimir says, as he dismounts Shadow, draws his bow and begins to close in.
Garborn grins, and dismounts as well, then he begins to weave a spell.
Nico dismounts from his horse and straps his crossbow over his shoulders and onto his back. "I can give someone a few minutes of flight. Just ask."
Durielle dismounts from Whisper and urges the mare back towards Arliss. Her heartrate begins to speed up in anticipation of the encounter to come. The future begins spinning and possible outcomes start to cloud her vision as they swirl around. The oracle tries to focus and push them away. They subside somewhat. While the images still remain a distraction, they no longer fully interfere with her ability to perceive the here and now. The effort stimulates her ever-present condition however, and a wave of nausea courses through her. An unpleasant feeling triggers a small dry heave which, in turn, becomes into a series of wet coughs. Durielle covers her mouth with sleeve until she can retrieve the cloth she keeps for catching the bloody sputum the coughing loosens. The Omenstar's Promise...Durielle thanked the gods she alone would be the one to bear this plague as she wiped her mouth. She doesn't meet her companions' eyes fearing the sight of concern they usually give her.
The elf frees her bow and holds an arrow ready to draw. She steps lightly to Nico's side and nods to Vladimir to indicate she's ready. Her breathing becomes anxious, and her senses feel heightened. Inside herself, Durielle reaches for that place where the visions of time swirl. The power there...she readies herself to make use of it.
Nico feels Durielle step up beside him. He turns his head slightly in her direction, still keeping his eyes on the trees ahead. "I just had an unpleasant thought, Lady Omenstar" he says quietly. "What, uh, if there's more than one of them?"
“That could indeed be most unfortunate, Magister Tegustus,” the oracle agrees while looking at the sky nervously. “I myself do not know much about these creatures, and I couldn’t say if they are not solitary hunters. Best if we maintain a strong watch on our surroundings.”
A vision of Nico being snatched up by large reptile suddenly flashes across her vision in ironic contrast to her advice to remain vigilant and cognizant of their surroundings. Fortunately, at least, the possible future was tremulous and ephemeral suggesting a low probability of occurring. She tried to be more reassuring.
“I-I’m certain yo-we will not be caught off guard.” Durielle smiles worriedly at Nico.
As you get within one hundred feet, the wyvern head snakes in your direction. The winged beast looks again toward the center of the small wooded area. It lets out a squawking shriek which turns to a growl.. a guttural phrase, followed by a few shrill screeches.
It takes to the sky in your direction... more upward than toward you, but definitely toward you.
Again to Durielle, Nico says, "Who do you suppose it's talking to?"
Grinning, Garborn finishes his incantation, and springing into existence, a pair of small whirlwind forms in from of him.
Without stopping, he nods towards the wyvern, sending his new friends to the attack, while he himself begins to cast again.
Vladimir takes aim with his bow and fires at the wyvern. Following the shot, he drops the bow and draws his blade.
Marisol heaves out a javelin and waits for the beast to come within throwing distance.
Plunging her mental hand into the stream of time, Durielle allows probability to shift her form between possible versions of herself throughout different moments.
Durielle blinks at Nico's question. "At this point, I certainly hope it's the poor mule owner. We've certainly come this far looking for whoever was attacked."
A multitude of Nicos spring up suddenly, all of them seconds ahead in the future. Durielle notices some have more success than others in striking their new foe with the spell the Nicos have prepared.
She gently reaches over and slightly repositions one of Nico's outstretched hands.
"Just concentrate here."
Nico reaches into his pouch with one hand while gesturing with the other. He pulls out a small bit of rhubarb leaf that is bound to a dried adder's stomach. As he speaks the words to his spell, a black arrow made of acid springs from his fingers and sails towards the wyvern high above.
"Thank you for the assist, Durielle."
Though struck by many blows, the wyvern continues to speed toward you. It brushes by Vladimir, and as it does, its barbed tail whips into Vladimir's chest.
Wincing in pain as the wyvern's stinger leaves his chest, Vladimir feels the venom coursing through his veins.
"It will take more than that to bring me down, beast! Come face me!" he calls out, stepping toward the wyvern,
(challenge)
Vladimir is clearly pained and weakened by the wyvern's sting. The wyvern screeches and flails furiously from the surrounding assault.
Marisol casts a quick spell, then rushes the wyvern. She draws her cutlass as she goes and it rimes over with a sheen of frost before landing a solid blow.
Nice gestures with his right hand and sends a bolt of force into the flying beast. He then reaches into his quiver and loads a crossbow bolt.
Durielle stifles a cry when she sees Vlad pierced by the wyvern's tail. Her mouth thins to a firm line, and her gaze gains an intensity belying the elf's delicate and sallow features; her eyes flash with silver lightning. Durielle's silken tones burst out in a throaty language filled with power, the very air crackles as in response to the tongue of dragons.
Some remnant of her words lingers imparting to the wyvern visions of defeat, but Durielle is not able to discern if it received them.
"Marisol!" Durielle cries suddenly her eyes locking on her friend. For a brief moment, Durielle is able to impart images of possibilities to the magus. The visions become a part of Marisol's mind as if memories she just recalled showing her actions she could take to strike their foe.
The wyvern's wing falter under the barrage. As it lands, it whips its head to glare at Durielle, and responds in a snarling guttural dark speech.
"No no no! Windcaller dies, then you!"
Bloodied and with torn wings.. it lunges at Garborn. Quick as a snake strike, the wyvern clamps down on the druid's shoulder with a powerful jaw.. nail-like teeth. The tail swings low with speed.. around to and into Garborn's back. It jerks as if trying to pull the big man off his feet, but can only hold on as it is so weakened by many wounds.
Vladimir grimaces as his body tries to fight off the poison. Gathering what strength he can, he slashes at the wyvern with his blade with a quick strike aimed for a vital area.
(flank)
(challenge, panache)
(Con damage)
With the wyvern fully occupied with Garborn, Vladimir is able to drive his blade deep into a wound in the beast’s flank. It arches and shrieks before it drops dead.
Marisol hesitates only a moment as double vision washes over, then draws back her cutlass for a fell blow - but the moment is gone; the creature is already downed.
Casting her blade aside she turns to Vlad. "The sting, it is poisoned - how bad is it?" she says with a worried expression.
Vladimir coughs as his demeanor shows a fair amount of vulnerability now that the threat of the wyvern has passed.
"I have been better, my love." he says, obviously weakened and badly injured.
(Con Damage)
In an attempt to stave off his impending doom, Vladimir casts a healing spell on himself.
A lanky red-headed young man in simple clothes exits the wooded area, and starts to jog toward you.
Concerned for his friend and companion, Nico approaches Vladimir to see if there is anything he can do. Which, it seems, there isn't. "I wish I could help, but my magic isn't much good for these things."
He looks up when motion off in the distance grabs his attention. As the young man approaches, he says "This is, um...odd."
Concern etched on her face Durielle rushes to her comrade's side. Desperately, she begins searching through the recent and current moments in time for one including probabilities which include a more healthy Vladimir.
Durielle offers the healing wand she carries to any who can make use of it should the need arise before devoting her full concentration to the strange time power she has been gifted.
Nico snaps his fingers as he thinks of something. "It's not much, but every bit helps..." He focuses on his ring momentarily, and then touches Vladimir as he casts a spell.
As Garborn is released from the wyverns tail, he staggers a little before slapping himself on the chest.
Unfortunately, his hand comes away covered in both blood and black venom.
"Strange, Garborn feels...weak..."
The young man picks up speed rushing toward you. Those currently not suffering recognize him as Jank.. Bokken's nephew.
Marisol clutches Vlad's arm, worry etched on her face as Durielle works as quickly as she can to work the spells necessary to keep him alive.
(Con Damage, Resistance)
Vladimir's cough gets worse as the poison continues to tear at his organs.
Staggering a little, Garborn's eye seems to unfocus as he takes a wheezing breath.
for a moment he manages to focus, then his legs gives out and his massive body sags to his knees.