Elen dashes through the snow until she is within 30 feet of the wyrm, and targets it with a curse of ill luck. Can't put a dragon to sleep, she recalls her mentor telling her.
Ragnar surges into motion, rushing toward to aid the unfortunate fellow.
The figure in the wyrm's jaws screams again -- a hoarse cry of agony -- and struggles to break free from the teeth penetrating its flesh.
"Get this scum-sucking snake off of me!"
Krystae's shot goes wide and strikes one of the nearby bodies instead. Ragnar drives his spear through one of the tatzylwyrm's legs. The masked figure struggles but is unable to free himself from the jaws of the dragon.
A sight that sounded more like a stifled growl escaped the lips of Brynjar. The carnage before his eyes only evoked one thought from him That could have been us.. But that wasn't why he was dejected, it was his companions tendency to help anyone they found which potentially gave the bandits they were chasing even more time to make their escape, he would have argued against assisting every troubled individual they passed by but he knew that it would be quicker to simply give in to the majority vote of his group and get it over and done with, as the other option of continuing on his own was just too idiotic to consider...it also helped that he had grown fond of the discussions he's had with various members of this party, but he doubted he would ever tell them that.
His cautious dash and simultaneous unsheathing of his weapon saw him standing ready before the feasting beast. Brynjar and the wyrm circled each other, as it kept its jaws clamped around its prize, which gave the armored warrior a chance to consider his options, while it was true that to rush and quickly kill the beast would be what was best for the hostage it held, both he and his companions would have less risk if tried to hinder the creature so it would less likely harm them Your survival isn't what I am here of, feel free to haunt me if you wish He thought as he spared the masked figure a momentary glance before, coming at the beast with a side slash that was swung in a shallow manner.
The small dragon easily dodged the attack but would have precious moments to react the back swing Brynjar launched with ever more haste, causing the broad side of his sword to sail towards the eyes of his opponent.
Hmm, the most logical option would be to simply engage it in melee, I cannot throw a bomb without hurting others, and using a mutagen will take too long time.
Havelock simply moves into melee, unable to charge past the larger and more powerful members of the crew.
Helios, glad for the freedom of the stag, is quickly brought back to reality as the group moves off to continue their search. It isn't long before they are introduced to yet one more menace in the forest. Another Tasylwyrm?!?
His bow is up and at the ready after he flanks to the side and gets into position. His finger tips nearly loose a shot but the string is held fast when the half-elf notices the beast has a person in it's jaws. Perhaps the only surviving member of the dead group scattered in the clearing. Not confident in his marksman's skills, he instead opts to unleash his own brand of magic in the hopes of jarring the beast's hold on its flailing victim.
He sets his legs and unleashes a scream at the mighty lizard that only he and the beast can hear.
The flat of Brynjar's blade strikes the beast in the eyes, blinding him. The beast, infuriated, drops the masked figure from his jaws and reaches out blindly to bite Brynjar, but without its eyes to guide it, Brynjar easily steps aside.
Noticing that the dragon is blinded, Elen draws her rapier to defend herself if needed, steps up near the beast, and reaches down to help the masked man who was being attacked. "Are you alright? Can you stand? We need to get you away from this drake while it still can't see!"
"I can stand," the stranger wheezes as he staggers to his feet. "I can stand and I can fight!"
Droviz manoeuvres to flank the tatzylwyrm with Brynjar and brings his greatsword around in a destructive arc.
"You're not getting away with killing my comrades, you bastard! Nor with trying to eat me!"
"One of these creatures is rare enough in this land, now there are two!" Helios utters aloud. "This hasn't been heard of in 200 years, back to the Armies of Exploration when Ulfen raiders descended from the north and drew theses beasts with them. What a calamity as Taldor faced at the Arch of Aroden! But Taldor learned, yes? As we have learned to fell these invading beasts of the northern realms! We can defeat this one just as we defeated the prior beast, my friends! Strike it's throat while it's dazed! Don't let it regain its bearings, keep it off balance! Excellent work, all of you!"
Inspire Courage / Fire into Melee
He draws back his bow and lets a shaft fly, marveling as the arrow sails high and wide and manages to strike a cat off camera. Helios winces but continues regaling the group in a brief history of Taldor and the engagements with the beasts of the north.
Ragnar steps to the side to fully encircle the creature with Brynjar, withdraws his spear and thrusts again.
Impressing Brynjar was no easy task, and Droviz had done just that with his display od twnacity. Giving an understanding nod to the stranger who attempted to flank the creature with him, Brynjar kept his position to keep the advantage they had over the beastand when he saw a chance he raised his sword upward and brought it down in a vertical arc.
Havelock, not the most martial member of the group had hung back a little, but now he twirled the blade he had got of the dead captain, gripped it in a two handed fashion and attempted to stab down where he predicted the beast’s heart to be.
Elen drops her rapier in the snow, and unslings her bow, stepping back to find a gap between the others fighting.
Droviz makes a strong and savage strike, taking off one of the limbs of the tatzylwyrm. Krystae's arrow goes right into the beast's thick neck. It starts to cough up a bit of blood just as Helios's shot goes wide and Ragnar drives his spear deep into the beast's vitals, knocking the beast onto its side and moving it just out of reach of Brynjar's powerful swing. The beast starts to thrash about in convulsions as it dies.
Havelock's blade and Elen's arrow then strike true, further mutilating the remains of the tatzylwyrm.
Ragnar wastes no time. He drags the dragon-snake away from the man in the mask and slits it's throat to bleed it.
Then he waits for it to drain while the others talk. By the time they finish, he has another tatzylwyrm skinned, gutted and stored in his pack.
|
Krystae wipes her brow and lets out a heavy sigh... such horrible dangers within a days march of her home. "Stranger! Are you okay?" she calls out to the masked figure as she cautiously approaches... an arrow to her bowstring. She then spots Ragnar beginning to gut the wyrm and she smiles slightly...
"Ragnar!" she calls out to the oracle in Skald. "Ta en av dessa klorna för mig! Jag vill lägga till den i min samling..."
Ragnar smiles and nods.
Elen picks up her rapier and sheathes it, running a hand over her brow in relief. "Perhaps these were a mated pair, Helios, hunting separately?"
She looks at Drovitz, and unconsciously straightens her dress with a flick of her fingers.
Drovitz sees a blond elf with alabaster skin, wearing a light dress that would be perfect for summer under normal circumstances. A loosely-woven shawl covers her shoulders, but she is not in any way dressed appropriately for the weather. Indeed, her feet are bare, standing directly in the snow without covering, yet she seems as comfortable as she would be on a warm spring day. The dress is calf-length, and shows a hint of cleavage -- as is common for elves, ignoring the more modest standards of human cultures -- and a bit of ink peeking out suggests she has a tattoo over her heart mostly hidden by the neckline.
"You are alright, then, sir, I take it? May I ask, is the mask a symbol of your people, or are you disfigured in some way?"
Elen's cheeks redden, and as the excitement of the battle fades, her characteristic shyness reasserts itself.
"Are y-y-you alright, s-sir?" Elen stammers, eyes looking down at the ground after glancing over Drovitz briefly. "M-m-may I ask about th-the m-m-mask? W-w-what is it f-f-for?"
This creates a troubling position for us, if we take him back to town, we will end up falling further behind the bandits...
But we cannot just take him with us into danger either.
Havelock crosses his arms across his chest and begins to tap one of his feet impatiently as he consideres the options.
As the one most likely to cut to that point, Havelock then looks over at Brynjar for a reaction.
Taking the beast down took a lot longer than he expected, but then again they had been very lucky with the first. Brynjar stood silently as the wind continued blowing over the mostly silent battlefield, all that was left of their enemy was being further dissected by the giant that walked among them, while the others considered the other 'spoils' of battle. The masked man they had saved had remained silent till now, drawing on varying reactions from his companions.
"Are y-y-you alright, s-sir?" Elen stammers, eyes looking down at the ground after glancing over Drovitz briefly. "M-m-may I ask about th-the m-m-mask? W-w-what is it f-f-for?"
Havelock then looks over at Brynjar for a reaction.
It was after Elen's nervous question and Havelock's look in his direction that Brynjar finally decided to act "Do you hide it because you're a wanted man? A bandit who doesn't think himself immortal and is actually worried about the law?" The blunt questions came without hesitation as Brynjar came to stand near Elen, while he still had issues trusting the witch, he needed to present to this stranger that they were a united force.
Droviz stands over the tatzylwyrm's corpse, chest heaving with pain and the sensation of adrenaline draining out of him with the battle's end.
"Scum-sucking snake!" he growls, kicking the dead beast one last time -- and then he registers that people were talking to him.
"Bandit?!" he sputters, clearly outraged at Brynjar's question. "Nothing doing! We took on the job of finding the Lady Argentea from the village council, all above-board and honest! Got them to write out the mission and everything..."
Droviz' voice dies away as he looks at the corpses of his comrades, and he shakes his head. "Shameful," he says, sombrely. "Damn beast got the drop on the others 'cause I was off watering a tree. None of us were bandits! Just folks trying to make some money doing a good piece of work."
Droviz' eyes shift to Elen and elongate, suggesting a smile beneath the mask. "Let's just say seeing my face don't make people too happy. I prefer covering it up nice and snug over being run off for upsetting the aged and making little children cry."
With smooth, practised movements, the warrior sheathes his sword and briefly goes to one knee in front of Elen, pressing her knuckles against the part of his mask where his lips should be if she allows it.
Rising back to his feet, the stranger looks at the rest of the group.
"Let me just say thank you for saving my life. Might I impose on your generosity and ask you to at least help me dig my dead comrades a hole in the snow? It's not a proper grave, but it'll have to do if I'm to find the Lady Argentea, still. Bloody kidnappers won't wait forever."
Havelock raises an "eyebrow" as he is informed that the council had seen fit to send ANOTHER expedition ahead without telling anyone, especially since one of the members of THIS expedition is a member of the community.
"Indeed..."
Brynjar didn't understand elven and didn't claim to, but he knew flirting when he heard it, a sigh that sounded very guttural escaped his lips as he kept staring at the man who was just a minute go furious about the accusation We haven't been gone that long, and they supposedly sent another group in as well, if that is true then they certainly have money to spend The man with the marred face continued his glare, but didn't show any sign that he cared about the advances the stranger made.
Rising back to his feet, the stranger looks at the rest of the group.
"Let me just say thank you for saving my life. Might I impose on your generosity and ask you to at least help me dig my dead comrades a hole in the snow? It's not a proper grave, but it'll have to do if I'm to find the Lady Argentea, still. Bloody kidnappers won't wait forever."
"I'll stand guard" He replied, his voice betraying no emotion and his sword still drawn.
"Hrm...Attempting to dig graves, even shallow ones, in frozen ground will be difficult and time consuming without proper tools.
I hesitate to suggest it, but perhaps burning the bodies would be better."
"Oh?" Droviz says, clearly interested. "Aye, if you have the means, I'm sure that would do. Better than being buried in the snow, to be sure. But first..."
The warrior shakes his head as he looks at the pitiful bodies.
"It's a harsh old world. If my old comrades had something on them that'll help us survive, new friends, then I suggest you have it. It'll do them no good where they've gone."
Havelock gives a birdlike chuckle and withdraws a clay vial from inside his clothes.
"Never fear, fire and I have an...affinity..."
Elen's face goes from slightly flushed to bright pink in embarrassment as the stranger praises her effusively and kisses her hand. As she stands there, frozen in her bashfulness, a tiny kitten, previously hiding behind her legs, walks out, sniffs Drovitz, then winds around his legs purring.
When Drovitz makes mention of his late comrades, she takes the opportunity to do something to distract her from her unnerving shyness, and goes to check the others to see if any might still be alive, and to check briefly what they were carrying.
-Posted with Wayfinder
"Oh! Hello there," Droviz says, chuckling as he looks down at the cat. Very gently, he runs a single gloved finger along its spine. "I'm afraid I don't have any fish on me..."
"Oh, it does not eat fish, it feeds on fear..."
Droviz gives Havelock a very dry look.
"I know what a cat is, friend," he says, his voice not unpleasant. "Save it for the punters at the next fair you run into, yeah?"
The cat makes a mewling noise that sounds almost like laughter.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Helios responds to Elen's question, mostly to himself as warring thoughts twist about his mind. "Possibly, they were a mated pair, but my thought is that they are part of a rising tide...the words of our devilish little sprites turns my thoughts in that direction."
Ragnar is busy skinning the dead Tazylwyrm, careful to work his way through the process in order to get the most out of the animal. The half-elf coughs into his fist, fighting back the gorge rising in the back of his throat. As appreciative he is of the big man's skill with a hunting knife, Helios isn't overly fond of the visceral practice. Luckily there is a stranger in their midst and blooming conversation to draw his and the others attention.
Before he has a chance to offer greeting, Elen and Brynjar and the Professor and Krystae have already staked their claims on first interactions with the stranger. The half-elf listens closely to them and keeps his eyes upon the wounded and masked swordsman. The sight of his bloodied form and the greatsword at hand is enough to gauge his formidable nature. But the mask is an intriguing touch to the overall picture. A bandit, a scarred visage...many reasons to wear a mask.
Too many things out of the ordinary to trust the stranger outright, I can understand that. The mask doesn't help, but... Helios steps into the circle of conversation to offer greetings. The discussion moves through an interesting twist when the masked stranger discloses his reason for being in the forest. The move brings back into focus the area around them and the dead and broken forms of those the Tazylwyrm had dispatched. The discussion of handling the bodies is grim but necessary.
"My condolences on the loss of your group, stranger." He inclines his head to the matter and then gestures politely to the others. ”You’ve already met Elen and her companion, this is the good Professor Havelock, our resident man at arms Brynjar. This lovely vision is Krystae, a devotee of Desna and a local to the region. And the rather large framed fellow is Ragnar, the most interesting person I’ve met in my 60 years. Best for conversations with him if you speak in either Elvish or Skald.” Helios turns to the stranger and inclines his head once more. ”I’m Helios Sunstreaker, I’m not directly from this region but some leagues west of here. Might I ask your name, brave sir? Other than the current efforts of the day, what brings you to the region?”
...just keeping things friendly...
Droviz gazes at Helios - and folds his hands together and executes a stiff little bow in his direction. Stiff not just due to his studded armour, but also due to his wounds, most likely.
"I am Droviz," he says. "Just Droviz. Mum was a dressmaker, Dad was a tanner. Commoners, see? No family name. Especially not for a son who left home 'stead of continuing on in either of their trades. And speaking of trade, that's what brought me here. I'm a sword-for-hire. I was looking for a job."
"Bloody too many of us mercenaries in this region" Commented Brynjar, his blue eyes still trained on the swordsman that stood before them "We'd best be done with the bodies before they attract other beasts" Said Brynjar turning his face in Helios' direction. Refraining from saying that their other option was just leaving them there and moving on, as even he didn't feel well about leaving bodies exposed to the carrion of the area.
"Regular cats do indeed feed on fish, what makes you believe it is a regular cat?
But you are right, it does indeed not feed on fear, but neither is it a regular cat.
So, who were your companions? Were any of them local?"
"Don't think so," Droviz replies, shrugging. "We just met yesterday and agreed to work together to get the job done. Hell of a way for a partnership to end."
Krystae Stormcrow
