Stepping away from Anthuria to descend the stairs. Realizing he will have to his head down due to the low ceiling, Defiantly like the city better! following Lord Arizian to listen then turning to Perry, That wounds fine to me.
Balthus stopped Perry who was about to lock down the room. "Wait, doesn't that sound like the party we want to crash? They may be eating people right now in there. We can't let that happen. Those men and women deserve better than that."
Jetta moves into position near the double door, eager to strike against the forces of chaos.
Mairen descends as quietly as she's able, her plate armor clanking, her steel sabatons clinking with each step she takes. Entering the room, she's forced to bow her heard but slightly, and draws her blade as she moves to the double doors.
As Perry chains the eastern door, she Detects Evil through the double doors, trying to get a sense of what they might be up against, and then looks around the assembled group.
"We're going to have the element of surprise for but the fraction of a second. Unless we're terribly outmatched, I'll push forward to try and reach their leader. Jetta, Amund, stay close. With any luck, we'll be able to demoralize them by striking down their leader before they have time to respond."
Closing her eyes, she whispers an invocation to Erastil, and her cold iron battle-ax begins to glow a luminous golden white. Once the group is prepared, she'll bust open the doors and step inside.
Following his kind words, Anthuria grasps Amund's shoulder in silent thanks.
As they make their way down the staircase, she remains silent, leaving tactics to those knowledgeable in such matters. Thoughts of cooked people dance in her head, providing fuel for future nightmares.
"Yes, move quickly," she says, bracing herself for the worst.
Shifting back to the longspear Amund waits for the door to be opened.
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"Guard us from godless fey. Weld for us from discord a path, and watch over us this here day," he whispered, making a symbol to Abadar with his right hand, and pointing to each of his allies.
[Spell Cast: Communal Protection From Evil]
+2 to AC (deflection bonus), +2 to saving throws (resistance bonus), suppresses all charm and compulsions until the spell's duration ends, and causes natural attacks from chaotic creatures to automatically fail.
Duration: One minute each.
After that spell is cast, he will cast the following spell before combat starts:
[Spell Cast: Divine Favor]
+2 bonus to attack and damage rolls (luck bonus).
Trait Bonus: Fate's Favored: Increase the luck bonus by +1 (to +3)
Duration: One minute.
Percival Arizian | hp 44/44; AC 18/11T/18FF; +8F/+3R/+12W
To-Hit: +10 vs. AC, 1d8+6 bludgeoning damage.
[ooc]Touch of Law/Protection (7/day), Channel Energy 5/day, 2 3rd level, 2 2nd level, 2 1st level spells remaining
As Perry locks up the eastern door, nothing emerges, and the sounds behind the door remain the same. It seems, at least for now, the noise of the chains has drawn no attention.
With preparations made, Mairen bursts through the door with a solid kick and nearly sends it flying off its hinges. Before you sits a large dining room, dominated by a long table of intricately carved pine wood nearly sagging with the weight of all the dishes piled on top of it. Platters of steamed turnips, hearty breads, flagons of wine and cordial, and roasted meat crowd the tabletop.
The smell is inviting, and your mouths begin to water - but then you notice that it's not wine that fills many of the goblets, but blood. The thin pieces of meat threatening to overflow one of the bowls turn out to be human fingers, and it's hard to be certain, but the centerpiece just might be a human's lower leg, roasted to a perfect crisp. Your worst fears have been confirmed.
The six sprites sitting at the table start upright at the loud bang of the door, and two giant bees, one lounging on each side of the room, buzz to a hover at the interruption. A thick curtain of roses hangs at the back of the room; from behind it, a clear, contemptuous voice rings out. What rabble dares to disturb my revelry? Speak, and make yourselves known!
It's rare for a sight to both shock and disgust Mairen these days, but the feast before her accomplished just that. Sword blazing, she bursts forward, trusting to her companions to watch her back, and leaps up onto the table before swinging her blade down double handed at the closest sprite.
The first thing that Balthus thought of was Anthuria; this was no place for the girl. This would haunt her in her nightmares for days to come.
"Anthuria, stay back. Wait outside. For real!"
The next thing he thought of was that he had to end this travesty, the sooner the better.
He moved with a grace envied by younger men, virtually hoping over chairs to get to the closest fey. And his axe swung up and down in a macabre dance.
Slasher was right behind him; the dog didn't need any urging; he also knew this was not right.
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Buffs: Protection From Chaos (1 min), Divine Favor (1 min).
Standard: Shooting with light crossbow at the closest giant bee.
Abilities: Touch of Law/Protection (5/day), Channel Energy 3/day, 2 3rd level, 2 2nd level, 2 1st level spells remaining
As the door burst open, the tall priest peered into the room, and raised his Abadarian crossbow, shooting with divine accuracy to the nearest giant bee.
"Hark, foul fey! The Big-Folk have crashed thy party!"
Amund moves a few paces forward so that he has a way to protect the entrance and therefore the others and still be able to attack. Jabbing his spear at the over grown bee
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The smell.
The peculiar aroma at first invokes tantalizing images of roast pheasant or pork, but the lingering presence of its middle and base chords incorporates a singular strangeness that is difficult to place. As Anthuria identifies the roasted human calf on the table, however, the puzzle clicks into place.
Oh, Gods.
Her first instinct is to run, to listen to Balthus and bolt back up the staircase, to the horses, and to ride back to Fort Thorn, then Korvosa, and back to Theumanexus. To hide in her room, pull her blankets over her head, and forget that this world could ever be so wicked. To forget, to sleep, to dream of roses.
But roses will never be the same. They have been ruined for her, tainted by the evil of these loathsome creatures, these perversions of nature.
Instead she shuts her eyes tightly, trying to remember the sensations she experienced earlier, when the fey creatures leaped from the rose bushes. She remembers the panic she felt, the terror of watching as the world seemed to slow down as she bore witness to the attack on her allies. She remembers the cut on her hand, and the blood trickling down her arm. She remembers the roses, their beautiful crimson petals glowing furiously in the late afternoon light.
Blood. The roses were full of blood.
She opens her eyes. The world has again slowed. The jumbled noise from the room ahead deepens and distorts. Heads turn slowly, gnarled fingers raise to point as though underwater. As she steps toward the room she notes with detached interest the giant bee. Its wings flap lazily, sending waves of pollen into the air.
Yet while the rest of the world has slowed, it seems her friends have not.
Cast Haste
Jetta steels her mind against the horror of the scene, refusing to flinch or look away from the gruesome feast laid out before them. During her time as an armiger, she had witnessed the worst mortalkind had to offer, and caught a glimpse of terrors beyond the material world. There was little that affected her anymore. "There is no room for emotion in the pursuit of justice," Venn had told her after her first encounter with ogres. She had not slept for a week. "Anyone can act in anger or revulsion, but only a Hellknight can go out and face savagery without carrying it back with them. What you see in the field, you bury it there."
The young knight charges into the room alongside Amund, stabbing right at one of the seated sprites. Quick, efficient movements made lightning-fast by Anthuria's magic. No hesitation.
Mairen (miss) -> blue fey
Balthus (miss), Slasher (miss), Jetta (hit) -> grey fey
Amund (miss), Perry (hit) -> white bee
Blue fey: 22/22
Grey fey: 0/22
White bee: 11/22
All others: 22/22
Red, pink, purple: ranged attacks
Blue, orange, bees: melee attacks
And the deadly dance begins. Mairen bursts forth, leaping onto the table and taking a powerful swing, but in her rush, she trips over a dish of steamed turnips, managing to catch herself but botching the attack while the fey woman she had charged cackles in mirth. Balthus and Slasher rush in to the right, for once united in purpose, with Jetta hard on their heels. All three rush the closest fey on the right hand side of the room, and their attacks strike true; he falls to the ground, still clutching a goblet of blood.
Meanwhile, Perry stands in the doors and takes a shot at the bee to the left with his crossbow, while Amund waits for his bolt to pass and harries it with his longspear. The spear has little luck against the bee's hard chitin, but Perry's quarrel finds a spot between the hard plates and digs into the bee's side.
With that, the fey finally gather themselves and leap into action. The fey closest to Balthus springs to his feet and calls out several harsh words, waving in a complicated gesture. The woman Mairen charged for steps back and echoes the strange movements, while the three fey further back retreat against the walls, draw their bows, and fire a fusillade of petal-fletched arrows. But fortune smiles upon you; all the arrows leap wide of their mark.
You begin to feel the same mental tug as before, but Erastil has always taught that experience is the best teacher, and you shrug it off easily.
The sibilant echo of a strange voice begins to seep into your mind - but then your own mind reasserts itself with a message. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice - shame on me. But not this time.
The bees respond to the intrusion as well; one steps forward and jabs at Amund with a powerful stinger, and the other stabs at Slasher growling in front of him. Amund's foe misses, striking clumsily past him, but the bee attacking Slasher finds its mark, stinger burying deep into Slasher's flesh. And these bees don't seem to have the same weakness as their tiny cousins - they look very ready to sting again.
For a moment, Slasher wriggles in discomfort, and Balthus notices a glint of poisonous venom in the wound, but he comes through seeming none the worse for wear (though surlier than ever).
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Buffs: Protection From Chaos (1 min), Divine Favor (1 min).
Look at us--moving like a well-oiled machine.
Euphoria erupted within him, seeing his allies move with the grace of his lord, and something akin to tears began swelling in his eyes. In his zeal, he smashed his mace against the giant bee, yelling, "Fall, you overgrown pest, fall!"
Full-round: Charge and attack roll versus bee.
Yes--this is living!
Abilities: Touch of Law/Protection (5/day), Channel Energy 3/day, 2 3rd level, 2 2nd level, 2 1st level spells remaining
Jetta pulls her halberd free from the fallen sprite with a sickening squelch. Hopping on to the table next to Mairen, she stabs down at the closest sprite.
Sicken by the smell of well roasted human that hangs though the room Amund growls at himself when his jab misses the mark, Come on Amund, focus on the fight not the steaming pile of people on the table. We can vomit later! Merciful Gods what is wrong with this cursed Vale!
Feeling vomit try to crawl up his throat his first jab slams into the ground and any further attempt to correct his aim seem to glance off the overgrown bee. I hate my boss! My place is in the city fighting drunks and quelling riots. Not fighting mutant bugs and psychotic man eating Fairy's!
Slasher had taken the bee's sting without even a whimper. The dog was beyond control. Balthus knew that the beast had reverted to a more primal estate and it was best to just let him be.
The hound always calmed down afterwards...
Balthus lifted his axe and made sure that bee would never sting anyone else, like never again.
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Mairen hops down from the table, her armor clanking once loudly as she hits the ground, then swings her sword with both hands at the fae, intent on dispatching her foe.
Anthuria watches, aghast, as Slasher is stung by the bee, but is relieved to see him shake it off. As Balthus, Jetta, Mairen, and Amund hack and slash, across the rooms she sees a fey slinking into the corner. She bites her lip (a nervous habit) and assesses the room dimensions. She runs forward and hops onto the table,
landing spryly on her feet. She closes one eye and takes aim at the creature, wishing hurt upon it.
Perry (hit for 13), Balthus (hit for 19), Slasher (miss) -> yellow bee
Amund (all misses) -> white bee
Balthus (hit for 15, hit for 16), Jetta (hit for 15) -> orange fey
Mairen (hit for 15, hit for 20) -> blue fey
Anthuria (miss) -> pink
Blue fey -/22
Grey fey -/22
Yellow bee -/22
Orange fey -/22
Pink fey 22/22
Purple fey 22/22
Red fey 22/22
White bee 11/22
Pink, purple, red: suggestion
White bee: melee
Brown, black: ranged
Perry charges forward, caught up in the exhilaration of battle, and smashes his mace into the giant bee's side. At the same moment, Balthus and Slasher make their move toward the bee; Slasher's bite goes wide, but Perry and Balthus both connect solidly, and the bee tumbles to the ground with a last gurgling buzz before going still. Balthus isn't finished, though - he takes a step forward and engages the fey before him, lashing out with his axe as Jetta clambers onto the table and hefts her halberd. Both of them land solid blows, and the fey is unable to withstand the onslaught, falling before them.
Meanwhile, to the left, Mairen lashes out at her foe. Both swings of her sword tear through the fey, and she collapses with the ghost of her cruel cackle still etched into her features. Amund is having more trouble, however - for some reason, the bee he fights is proving vexing, and both stabs of his spear go wide. Fortunately for him, the bee faces the same issue - Amund is too fast and his armor too heavy for the stinger to handle. Anthuria makes her own magical attack, flinging a gob of burning acid at the rearmost fey, but the attack goes wide, landing on the stone wall with a faint hiss.
The remaining fey retreat further into the room, taking up positions in front of the curtain of roses with gestures and harsh calls.
Suddenly you realize you're hungry...hungrier than you thought possible. Have a seat, and take some refreshment. You deserve it.
Sit down, have a drink. The cordial is excellent. And now that you look at it, it does look refreshing, and fights are thirsty work...
A strange influence begins to creep over your mind...but the rigors of the Hellknights have worked deep into your psyche, and you withstand the mental haze until it withdraws again.
From the door at the left side of the room, two more of the sprites emerge, pulling out bows as they enter the room and taking aim. Three arrows miss their mark, but one bites deep into Anthuria's arm.
Remembering the toxin they use, Anthuria has the sense to shake the arrow loose immediately with gritted teeth, and though the wound is painful, it's clear the poison has not taken hold and spread.
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Percival Arizian | hp 44/44; AC 18/11T/18FF; +8F/+3R/+12W
To-Hit: +10 vs. AC, 1d8+6 bludgeoning damage.
Buffs: Protection From Chaos (1 min), Divine Favor (1 min).
Seeing the sorry state of his bodyguard missing, he muttered, "Oh, Abadar..."
Standard: Badtouch of Law on Amund: You can take 11 with any rolls, including attack rolls on full-attacks for this round.
Please remember this time.
Also, pay your taxes and tithes. Worshiping Abadar helps, too.
Move: Reload crossbow.
"The hand of the Lord guards these men and women, foul fey!" the priest shouted, seeing the fey's ineffectual spell-weaving.
Abilities: Touch of Law/Protection (4/day), Channel Energy 3/day, 2 3rd level, 2 2nd level, 2 1st level spells remaining.
Anthuria gasps in pain from the arrow wound. Instinctively she lashes out, conjuring a rose vine to relieve the archer of his bow.
Instead, a peony blossom springs forth from her hand, landing on the table before her with a soft plop.
Realizing she is making a target of herself, she hops back down onto the floor behind the table.
You glance at the cordial on the table longingly - but then, incongruously, an Abadaran proverb springs to mind. There is a time for everything under the Sun...
Ok, you tell yourself. Fight first, drink later.
With the bee killed, the fey slaughtered, and the rest of them hiding away somewhere, it was time to take a break. And the food did smell delicious.
Balthus accommodated himself on the small chairs and reached out for some finger food.
He called Slasher over to see if he wanted some but the mangy dog just growled at him.
Impervious to the chaos around him, the ranger grabbed a carrot stick and dipped in a thick cranberry sauce and took a bite.
Mairen shakes her head, blinking rapidly, and almost stumbles as she catches herself from sitting at the table. Gritting her teeth, she casts a sharp, infuriated look at where the black fey is seated, and darts forward, moving quicker than one would expect in her full plate.
Feeling an evenness settle over him despite the jittering feeling from Anthuria's spell. This evenness allows his to strike the overgrown bee. Why am I thinking about my taxes?
Longspear (Power attack + Haste): 11 + 8 = 19
Longspear (Power attack + Haste): 11+ 3 = 14
Longspear (Power attack + Haste): 11 + 8 = 19
The Hellknight halts for only a second, shaking free from the foul compulsion trying to overcome her mind. Once again pulling her halberd free from a fallen enemy, Jetta spins around and side-steps towards the next foe, putting herself between the sprites and Anthuria. She sweeps in from the side, bringing the axe-head of the halberd to bear in series of slashes.
Mairen (hit for 22), Jetta (hit for 15, hit for 14, miss, hit for 13) -> black fey
Amund (hit for 14, miss, hit for 17) -> white bee
Blue fey -/22
Grey fey -/22
Yellow bee -/22
Orange fey -/22
Black fey -/22
White bee -/22
Pink fey 2/22
Purple fey 22/22
Red fey 22/22
Brown fey 22/22
King of Roses 40/40
Brown, red: flank Anthuria
Pink, purple: flank Mairen
Perry lends his even temper to Amund, preparing for the next shot of his crossbow. Amund, receiving Perry's gift, finds that a measured approach aids him greatly in his fight against the bee - with a couple of careful jabs, the giant insect sags to the floor. Mairen and Jetta team up against the closest of the new arrivals, and the fey woman is finished off with ruthless efficiency. Anthuria attempts to hamper and disarm her foe, but the flower that she conjures poses little threat.
And Balthus sits down for a feast he is sure to regret. For the human flesh at the table isn't the only food that threatens to disagree with him - it turns out that the roseblood sprites' favorite seasoning is the spores of vieris toadstools, harmless and pleasantly spicy to them but toxic to humankind. And surely enough, as he samples the foods at the King's feasting board, his already clouded mind begins to fog even further.
At the back of the room, the curtain of roses parts, and a creature that can only be the King of Roses steps forth with a laugh. Indeed, it seems my feast has been overrun by pests. But no matter; I shall be rid of you soon enough. Join me, children. With a regal, courtly bow, he barks out a guttural command, and the four remaining fey spring into action.
With startling grace, they attempt to duck and tumble around the menacing big folk and get in place to harry them from multiple directions. One passes Jetta with ease, and another passes Mairen, both headed straight for Anthuria. Another tries to duck behind Mairen to harry her from behind, but this time she's on her guard, and deals him an imposing slash with her longsword. The fey having gotten into position, four thorny bracers lash out. Mairen and Anthuria catch one apiece, the thorns ripping into their skin despite their best defenses.
The King, for his part, waves toward the melee with another harsh word. Without warning, thick vines dash from the ceiling, creating a formidable barrier through the confusion and trapping the party within. Seeing the new vines, the fey cackle with glee, dancing through them as if they're not even there.
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The priest noticed (as he reloaded his crossbow) almost in slow-motion: old Balthus pulling up a small seat, squeezing himself a place, and reaching out for a well-roasted human finger.
"Don't...don't," he murmured, before the old man took a big bite. "Ooh...nasty."
Too far to aid him, he suppressed a pang of nausea, and took a deep breath, noticing the fey-king appear.
Indeed, it seems my feast has been overrun by pests. But no matter; I shall be rid of you soon enough. Join me, children.
Percival Arizian | hp 37/44; AC 18/11T/18FF; +8F/+3R/+12W
To-Hit: +10 vs. AC, 1d8+6 bludgeoning damage.
Buffs: Protection From Chaos (8 rounds), Divine Favor (8 rounds), Haste (9 rounds).[/b]
Before he could snap a righteous retort, a rough and heavy curtain of sharp thorns crashed down upon him, drawing multiple wounds in his face, arms, and side as he instinctively throw up his crossbow to guard his eyes.
"AAAGH!" he shouted in surprise and pain.
"Savage backdroppings from god-forsaken realms, begone!" he shouted, before weaving a spell. "O Lord Abadar, break this enchantment!"
Standard: Dispel Magic against Wall of Thorns.
If successful:
Abilities: Touch of Law/Protection (4/day), Channel Energy 3/day, 1 3rd level, 2 2nd level, 2 1st level spells remaining.
Perry shouts his prayers to the Master of the First Vault as the chaotic tangle of vines crashes down upon him. For a tense moment, nothing happens, and he begins to despair at the strength of his faith - but then the vines begin to untangle themselves, ending up in a neatly falling curtain of perfectly straight stems before sucking themselves back into the ceiling, walls, and floor. A spasm of rage crosses the fey-king's face, though he quickly smooths it back into regal indifference. A clever one, you are, he murmurs.
"Get over here!" The ranger shakes his head as his dog ignores him, "Mangy cur...
While Balthus smacks his lips and reaches over for one of those hard-boiled eggs floating in the murky broth, Slasher attacks.
The hound springs on top of the table knocking down plates and bowls and tears into the fey on the far side.
"Woof! Woof!"
The wall of sharp vines vanishes and Amund smirks I love mages!. Taking a small step back and swinging.
Anthuria is horrified to see Balthus dining on the ghastly feast. She moves to stop him, but gasps in pain as the rose thorns pierce her flesh, cutting nasty gashes on her shoulders and arms. Just as quickly, Perry's commandment causes them to vanish.
"Well done, Lord Arizian!"
She runs around the table toward Balthus,
,
stumbling over a chair. However, the item that Balthus is about to put into his mouth can only lead to regret, and so she presses on.
"Balthus, stop!" she screams, slapping him forcefully on the back of the head.
The vines are gone as soon as they appear, doing little to affect the Hellknight in her armor. She turns around, making a series of jabs at one of the sprites harrying Mairen.
Perry -> dispel
Balthus -> eating, Slasher attacks purple (hit for 13, trip)
Amund -> attack brown (miss, miss, hit for 13)
Anthuria -> trying to rouse Balthus (provoke brown and red)
Jetta -> attack pink (hit for 12, miss, hit for 20)
Mairen -> detect evil
Blue fey -/22
Grey fey -/22
Yellow bee -/22
Orange fey -/22
Black fey -/22
White bee -/22
Pink fey -/22
Purple fey 9/22
Red fey 22/22
Brown fey 9/22
King of Roses 40/40
Brown, red - flank, attack Amund
Purple - withdraw to King
King - poison Anthuria
Perry, awash in relief at Abadar's answer to his prayers, watches as the others take advantage of the no-longer-confined space. Though his master is occupied with his grisly feast, Slasher bolts in and tears savagely at one of the fey harassing Mairen, his master's friend. With a crash, the fey falls flat on his back on the table, squealing with Slasher growling above. While Slasher takes care of one of Mairen's distractions, Jetta handles the other, slashing wickedly with her halberd until the fey falls to the ground dead.
Meanwhile, the other two sprites menace Anthuria from in front and behind. She attempts to dodge deftly out of the way to reach Balthus and distract him from his meal, but trips over a chair in her haste, and the fey take the opportunity to attack savagely, one bracer tearing into Anthuria's exposed arm. Heedless of the pain, she reaches Balthus and tries to distract him from the feast and purge the uncleanness from him, but he simply waves her away and goes back to feasting.
While Anthuria runs to care for Balthus, Amund distracts her former foes, stabbing with his longspear until it bites deep into fey flesh. Their easy prey out of reach, the fey nearest the door turn to their new aggressor. One tumbles neatly past Amund to get between him and the door, and the pair harry him from both sides, both scoring vicious hits.
The fey beset upon by Slasher crawls backwards off of the table, dodging out of the way of the gnashing teeth above her and avoiding Mairen's sword. She looks to the King in the back of the room; Mairen follows her gaze, praying to Erastil for insight into the creature's nature. And Old Deadeye receives her prayers - the sense of corruption and spiritual decay Erastil reveals within him is revolting.
He walks forth to where Anthuria tries to rouse Balthus, a wicked smile on his face. You would strike a guest in my royal hall? Come now, it breaches all sense of manners! I will not allow such an insult to my honor! Feigning indignity, he reaches forth and strikes Anthuria across the face, and suddenly she feels a terrible weakness surging through her. Magic, she realizes. Necromantic magic, like poison in my veins.
And she isn't the only one in the feast hall concerned with poison - Balthus's feast threatens him as well, though he does not know the danger. As he continues to enjoy his revelry, the toadstool poison completes its work; suddenly his wits dull almost to insensibility, and the vacant look in his eyes is chilling.
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Percival Arizian | hp 37/44; AC 18/11T/18FF; +8F/+3R/+12W
To-Hit: +10 vs. AC, 1d8+6 bludgeoning damage.
Buffs: Protection From Chaos (7 rounds), Divine Favor (7 rounds), Haste (8 rounds).[/b]
"A clever one, you are.
"Too clever by half for you, your majesty," the priest growled viciously.
Standard: Whirling from the fey-king, he turned and touched Amund's shoulder with his key.
Touch of Law to Amund (11 on anything you want, the works).
"Go for it, son."
Annual Taxes are not counted against a formally-registered Adventurer's quest-related property. Don't abuse this fact.
Move: 5-foot step over the table (if possible) for best vantage point and to provide flanking against Red-fey.
Abilities: Touch of Law/Protection (3/day), Channel Energy 3/day, 1 3rd level, 2 2nd level, 2 1st level spells remaining.
NAME | hp ??/??; Conditions (if any)
The babbling fool that was formerly the grumpy ranger continues to munch down on some questionable food items.
Slasher, on the other hand, the smarter of the two by far, rushed the fey across the table and bit its head off.
Calling upon the guidance and divinity of Erastil, Mairen locks her eyes on the King and declares a smite upon him. Leaping back over the table, guided with righteous purpose, she drops down beside Balthus and swings her blade at her enemy.
"Balthus!" she cries out, glancing down as she sees him stare out with dulled wits. "Perry, help him!"
Anthuria cries out as the fey-king strikes her. An icy chill flows down her body, sapping her vitality. She hisses in anger, reflexively jumping back and lashing out with her own vines.
Eyes narrowed, she withdraws the silver dagger from her belt.