Sera chatted amiably with the fellow, taking her turns with Pretty and any of the others who felt talkative. She did make sure to keep a respectful distance from Nix and her master. "It could be the rogue bandit party may not have not returned from the north yet, too. We should all hang onto our cargo better travelling as a group. Perhaps when we make camp I can ask your input on our cartography. We've explored the Greenbelt fairly well, but within a defined parameter. It would be prudent to learn as much about the surrounding area as we can."
___________________________________________________________________________ _
Seraphina found some time on talk to Pretty on her own.
"I assume you will be donning your usual disguise when we meet with the Swordlords? I wanted to speak to you about how I might appear. I don't care much for dissembling, but I feel perfectly within my rights to model a new fashion. I once saw a woman in passing who adorned her eyes with such shining pigments as might camouflage my scales without truly obscuring them. Could you assist me in creating this look?"
|
Impressed, Milo says "Hah! That old grizzly, Oleg! He just said you'd done him and his wife the favor of running some thugs off. Didn't mention you'd wiped them out. That's quite an accomplishment!" He inquires about the details - the location of the bandits, their numbers, and how you dealt with them as you continue riding toward Restov.
Milo's excitement and good mood vanish when Pretty mentions Breeg O. Frowning, he asks "Breeg Orlivanch? Let me tell you a story. When I was much younger, Breeg passed through my town. One of the farmers, Mr. Castor, hired him to trap some foxes that were killing his chickens. Over the course of a few nights, Breeg trapped all of the foxes, then got his pay and left."
Milo is silent for a minute. When he continues, his voice is cold and angry. "We thought nothing unusual about Breeg, until a week later, when one of Castor's sons broke his leg in a foothold trap buried in the corn field. Two days after that, Castor's daughter went missing. After searching all day, we found her in a pit trap. One of his dogs died when a deadfall rock trap collapsed on top of it. It was clear these were not traps meant for foxes. They were in the wrong places. They were the wrong sizes. They were not baited to lure in a hungry fox. They were not marked so that humans could avoid them. If you can tell me where that bastard is, I'll put off my payday to pay him a visit and knock his teeth in!"
Special: Magic that alters your form, such as alter self, disguise self, polymorph, or shapechange, grants you a +10 bonus on Disguise checks
Disguise Check Modifier
Minor details only +5
Based on the above, using alter self to change minor details of your appearance will grant you a +15 on your disguise check. With your charisma bonus and an assist from Pretty, that's a total of +21 to the check.
Pretty helps in everything she can to teach Sera a few tricks in disguise. "Don't worry, Sera. We will get you covered. I would not rely on that spell if I were you, cause it may end during our talk with the swordlords, so it's not much reliable. You could always choose large coats and a hood, as travelers would use that all the time."
Yes Breeg O is the dead trapper
Pretty shows sad smile. "Well, let me tell you a story. Nature does not take kindly on who abuses it for no reason. When you put traps that are not meant to hunt something, but only to kill humans, you will pay for it, soon or later. No one gets free of this life without paying for what they have done." She looks at Sera for a second. "I've told you that before, haven't I Sera? Anyway, we found traps that were meant both for animals and humans alike, disarmed them, and tried to find the responsible for it. And guess what, we found him." She picks a ring in a pocket and gives it to Milo. It is written "Breeg O" on it. "Killed by one of his own traps, with a little help of someone who felt just like you did."
Sera nods, agreeing that the spell did not have a long enough duration to rely on at this point. She planned to find a shrug with a high collar that would coordinate with her noble gown. She would use the sash like a scarf until then.
"Thank you, Pretty. I appreciate the help."
___________________________________________________________________________
Pretty shows sad smile. "Well, let me tell you a story. Nature does not take kindly on who abuses it for no reason. When you put traps that are not meant to hunt something, but only to kill humans, you will pay for it, soon or later. No one gets free of this life without paying for what they have done." She looks at Sera for a second. "I've told you that before, haven't I Sera? Anyway, we found traps that were meant both for animals and humans alike, disarmed them, and tried to find the responsible for it. And guess what, we found him." She picks a ring in a pocket and gives it to Milo. It is written "Breeg O" on it. "Killed by one of his own traps, with a little help of someone who felt just like you did."
Seraphina quirked an eyebrow at Pretty's pointed question. "Oh yes, I have heard you speak so. The balance repays us all in the end. We found some of the man's traps and spent a long afternoon disarming them, poor Alfred earned his keep that day, eh Kivan? Terrible spring-loaded things with steel jaws, strong enough to snap a man's or a horses' leg and well hidden, as you say. Clearly the man had not given up his sadistic pleasures. Fitting that he should fall to his own vice. Apologies that you will be unable to knock his teeth in, Master Silverbrush. I can show where we found him, should you have any final respects to pay." She patted the map case among her saddlebags, again alluding to their map.
|
|
Listening to Pretty and Seraphina's stories, Milo's widened eyes and silence indicate he is taken aback by Breeg's continued acts of cruelty and the news of his death. Only a trace of anger remains in his voice when Pretty finishes her tale. "I'm glad to hear Breeg is no more. How fitting that one of his own traps got him. Wonder who sprung it on him." He looks curiously at Pretty and the rest of the group, as if wondering if they had something to do with Breeg's death.
"Breeg can rot in the woods, for all I care. He's not worthy of anyone's respect. With your permission, Pretty, I'd like to share your story and give this ring to Mr. Castor to let him know that Breeg is no more. His farm's about a day's journey east of Restov, if you'd care to join me."
Once the group agrees on Breeg's remains, Milo makes an effort to sound more civil and change the subject. "I'd be delighted to go over the maps tonight, Lady Medvyed. And please, call me Milo."
You continue along the road until nightfall forces you to make camp. From a ways off, you see a likely spot south of the road - a strand of trees and lush vegetation that offers some cover from the wind and elements, as well as blocking the telltale sight of a campfire. Investigating, you find that you're not the only ones who've had this thought - the way from the road to the strand is marked by a trail worn by a succession of travelers. In the middle of the strand you find a tiny spring-fed pond. The water is cold, clear, clean, and responsible for the lush plant growth around it. An old firepit sits near the pond. Some kindly soul has left behind extra firewood, protected from the worst of weather underneath a tree. Such caches aren't unheard of at popular overnighting locations. Many travelers hope to curry favor with Desna, goddess of luck and travel, by leaving supplies for others, perhaps in need, to find. The wood is mostly dry and provides a cheerful ward against the night chill when lit. Outside the strand, the wind has picked up considerably, rustling the bushes and trees as they blunt the force of the breeze.
Around midnight, Pretty and Idris are on watch.
Pretty does not mind the man keeping the ring to take to the deceased's family, as long as her group does not object it. "Sounds like a nice ride, but unfortunately I have business in Restov to attend to now. Maybe if the winds change, then who knows?"
And the freaking wind changed, as Pretty hears something around them. Pretty makes a gesture to Idris, asking the woman to keep an eye around for trouble alone, for now. She couldn't help but to notice something was wrong here, but maybe the idiot just wanted to come in the presence of Milo. Recalling the groups information, she realized not everyone knew the tiefling, and there was also Milo here, so she preferred to do it his way, careful around for any other threats that might show up. One never abandons its Uncanny Dodge.
She got up and moved inside outside the shelter and into the darkness, seeking the black dove. "What have you got yourself into this time?"
Idris notices Pretty's gesture and nods, assuming the tiefling hears or otherwise senses something she doesn't.
-Posted with Wayfinder
|
|
It's been a minute or so since Pretty signaled you and walked off. You hear no noise besides the rustling of wind in trees.
"Oh it was not our deed, I assure you, Milo. He was dead some time when we came upon him. We merely suspected that someone or something may have helped the accident along as the rope appeared it might have been cut rather than broken of it's own accord. Simple observation and conjecture, however, we do not know for certain. And you may likewise call me Sera, if you prefer." She had often met common folk who were made uncomfortable to be asked to address a Lady so familiar, so she did not insist, leaving the option to him.
She consulted with the fellow over their map, mentioning any hunting grounds they had recently made safer and inquiring about those areas surrounding their chartered area, especially areas up river. She also made sure to caution him about the mother Tazlwyrm they had displaced.
"You might want to give this area a wide berth as the hunting would likely be poor, we hope to be building on this site soon and our allies hunt these lands fairly extensively themselves." She indicated where the fort was and the surrounding hexes where the kobolds made their home, but made sure not to mention the Sootscales by name or species, trying to see if Milo had any knowledge of them himself.
Concerned, Idris draws her sword carefully. "Pretty? Is everything alright? " she calls, while moving in the direction that she last saw Pretty.
-Posted with Wayfinder
You hear no response from Pretty, and you don't see her close by.
Shit, Idris thinks.
Idris moves to the camp and hurriedly wakes people up. "Pretty heard something and went to go look, and now she's not saying or doing anything."
Seraphina wakes in a confusion, "What has happened? Which way did she go?"
She casts her Mage Armor and then Shield on herself while she gets her bearings.
"I've just got a bad feeling about this."
Idris follows Maja as she tracks Pretty's movements.
Kivan checks his items for anything being stolen and shrugs.
"Maybe she needed someplace quiet to go to the bathroom?"
Kivan begins looking out into the night as his vision becomes clouded over with shadows making the darkness seem positively bright in comparison although it is only in black and white.
|
|
Perusing the map with Seraphina, Milo points out the paths and tracks that he used through the northern forests, making note of streams for gathering water and other landmarks. "I've seen signs of kobolds here," the hunter warns, indicating an area further north of the fort. "They haven't given me any trouble though, so I leave them alone. I think one was taking some rabbits from my snares, but if he is smart enough to catch the rabbit without getting caught himself, then he can keep it!" Milo chuckles.
"Building up that abandoned fort is an excellent idea. Now that the bandits are gone, the hardest part will be getting supplies back with you. My horses are always unloaded on the way out of town - I could bring some things by if you need."
"I'm sure a Lady such as yourself has many allies, Sera, and it is wise of you to work together to settle the keep. Who knows what other things you will find in the forest that a good footman or squire could keep away." Milo seems to be assuming that Seraphina's allies are soldiers from House Medvyed or some of her family members.
After dinner, Milo chops more firewood to add to the stash under the tree. He tends to the horses, making sure they are cleaned and well fed, then sits quietly by the fire, brushing Nix's gray and black coat, pulling out burrs and tangles.
Milo wakes quickly in response to Idris' alarm, Nix at his side. "We'll find Pretty," he says confidently. "Where did you last see her?" He goes to Pretty's tent and takes one of her blankets, then follows Idris to Pretty's last known location. "We should stay together in case something attacked her, or there is some other danger lurking."
The night offers up very little in the way of clues. Pretty's tracks are easily followed just a little ways out of camp. They end with a disturbance in the grass, as if she fell over and lay still. Curiously, the tracks of a stag's hooves lead up to where the tiefling fell. There is no sign of combat or strife - both Pretty and the stag were walking slowly, and the ground isn't scuffed up like a battle took place. There's no blood or hair or any signs that Pretty was injured. A plain, unadorned holy symbol of Erastil lies where Pretty fell.
Showing the blanket to his black and gray wolf, Nix says "Track." Nix snuffles at the cloth for a moment, then puts her head to the ground, sniffing in the underbrush. Maja is easily able to follow the tracks left by the stag as it left the area, aided by the keen nose of Nix and a few spots of help from Milo. The stag walked north, at a slow pace until it was about three hundred feet from the camp, then accelerated into a gallop. The tracks aren't quite right, though. A stag has a gait like a deer or a horse - all four legs are moving independently to propel the beast forward. These tracks show signs of both front and back legs hitting the ground together in pairs, in the style of a running cat. The tracks continue almost due north, into the night.
Nearly useless at tracking, Seraphina left that business to those more qualified and turned her energies toward getting the horses ready for pursuit.
"Pretty won't thank us for rescuing her if we lose her cut of the loot in the process!"
Pretty loses some time gathering her senses and recalling what happened. She tries to think what could this creature be, so she could plan her escape a little better, although she had the feeling that this was some unknown arcane creature.
It certainly had arcane abilities, as it could mimic Swift's voice, and put her to sleep. To even have Swift's accent would be hard, so she imagined it was some form of enchantment. Then something came into her mind, recalling the previous event. Bad move. The other one was smart enough to bring a friend! Crap. The definite article called her attention. If it was an indefinite one, she would have no problems with it, but in that phrase she could guess the other one was Swift. After all, her partner would have passed through this location some time ago. It was possible that the creature was after the two tieflings, since it mentioned in her first call do a fellow tiefling a favor... Swift would not announce himself like that, she knew, as Pretty would have no need to hear the word to recognize the voice. So she assumed her rival was also captured, but what for? Sacrifice, revenge, bounty hunting, divine purpose? She could not guess from only the actual clues, but she kept an open mind to the reason, although she would need to be carried back to the creature's hideout to find the dove, in any case. But in that scenario, who would be Swift's ally that was captured with him, meaningless enough that his party would not come to the rescue? Numestri, maybe? Terran was more likely, but the man was an arcane caster, as much as she knew, so it unlikely he was put in a watch with the merchant. It could also be that the ally was left behind, so they would think Swift tried to run away from the group, and leave him be. Whatever, she would see it. She could not escape from the ride anyway, or the quadruple would feel the lack of her weight and come after her. So it was best to wait. But not like a good dove, of course.
Pretty moved her arms slowly, trying to feel if the beast found all her daggers. She also checks her prehensile tale, to see if by chance the creature underestimated its ability. Slowly but steady, she tries to loosen up the ropes, using the galloping-like movement to hide her try. The rogue could not recall when was the last time she was in a situation like this, and realized that she had not practiced her escaping skills in a long time. Not that she would ever forget it, but still, she was not as keen as she was in other areas. She tried to make it so that she would be free, but keep the ropes over her wrists and legs to fool the creature and be ready when the proper moment came.
|
|
The creature that ambushed you could clearly see in the dark, like you do. You didn't notice it doing any spellcasting - whoever hit you with that knockout spell was elsewhere - perhaps invisible. You rack your mind, but have never encountered anything of the sort.
"I don't know what creature could make tracks like that," Milo says to Maja as they discover the circumstances of Pretty's disappearance. "I agree - we'll need horses to catch up now." He follows her back to the camp to help ready the horses.
"Kivan, have you heard of any sort of hooved badger creature?" he asks the wizard.
As you return to camp, a sound rises above the rustling of wind through trees - the frightened whinnies of scared horses. You dash to the edge of camp to find your mounts being abducted by several shadowy figures! Six humanoid forms, cloaked and hooded in black cloth, struggle to gather up your steeds. The horses don't care for the strange and scary intruders, and fight their attempts to take their bridles and lead lines. A seventh intruder, costumed like its fellows, is on lookout and shouts an alarm in a guttural tongue as you burst into the camp.
The cloaked ones slash the ropes hitching your horses and turn to face you. They spread out, advancing slowly. Each is dressed in black pantaloons and bodywraps, their faces obscured by masks. Red eyes peek out from slits in the mask, and a black hooded cloak draped over top conceals their identities even further. Each one carries a cruelly barbed, curved short blade. The one on lookout eschews movement, weaving words of arcane power and reaching out to touch its companions as they move past it.
As your assailants move into position, the leader calls out again.
Idris bares her teeth (a gesture she seems to have picked up from Bara) and charges at the nearest bandit.
"Bandits!" Sera cried out as she spotted the shadowy characters attempting to abscond with their mounts and loot. "Oh no, you most certainly do NOT!" She followed Idris example and charged the thief directly in front of her, bringing her claws to bear and imbuing them with arcane power.
Kivan roars out at the intruders in the language they themselves used.
"Raak onze paarden, en je zal ergere dingen zorgen te maken over in plaats van je 'leider' hebben. Kom naar mij Infernal wezens en voldoen aan onze koopje!"
"Touch our horses, and you will have worse things to worry about rather than your 'leader'. Come to me Infernal creatures and fulfill our bargain!"
Kivan's voice deepens as he begins casting his newest learned spell and the servants of hell begin appearing ready to rend the flesh from his foes.
Kivan then speaks to his fellows in common.
"Ignore the rolling waves of fat. Those are our allies."
Out of somewhere comes a weird song that motivates you to fight harder!
|
|
Fearlessly rushing to confront the strange intruders, Idris and Seraphina rush in. Idris' aim is true, and her brutal sword slash tears a clean rent through the black bodywrap of her target - and the leather armor beneath. Blood, leather scraps, and iron studs fly through the air and the cultist yells in agony.
Seraphina's target suffers as well as draconic claws slash his face and chest. Strangely, the figure doesn't attempt to dodge the coppery claws, and quivers when hurt by them. Blood flows freely, but the man doesn't take the hits like you'd expect.
Maja's invocation produces a sonic blast amidst the intruders, rattling skulls and blowing tree branches aside in a shower of leaves, dirt, and grass. Two of the cultists lean over, clutching aching heads and ringing ears. The third is rattled but continues advancing.
Three disgusting devils appear where Kivan summons them. They appear like obese humans, skin riddled with cancerous growths and all facial features consumed by blubbery flaps. Howling piteously, they advance on your foes. They claw mindlessly at the nearest opponents, and score some hits with scratching claws.
Milo points at an intruder spread out as if to envelop the group in a pincher maneuver. "Kill!" he shouts to his 'dog', who sprints up to meet the man. An arrow follows in Nix's wake, but doesn't pierce the cultist's armor as it strikes his shoulder.
The one cultist that managed to shake off Maja's spell grins and charges her, swinging his curved blade. Fortunately, the man's head is still ringing from the sound blast and he completely misses with an awkward strike.
The two intruders near Seraphina ignore their wounds and move in concert, tumbling nimbly to flank her. As they move, they draw saps from under their cloaks and ring Seraphina's bell with two harsh blows to the head!
The spellcaster gestures and speaks in Infernal, and two blood-red missiles streak across the battlefield to hit Kivan.
Kivan shrugs at the foolish mage's move to stay and fight. Speaking some more arcane words Kivan disappears from sight and then begins moving forward and also teleports at the end of the movement.
"Hey, get back here, I though I was your dance partner!"
Idris circles around to position herself opposite Seraphina, sure that the coppery sorceress needed some backup. With a high-pitched cry, she attacks again.
Sera hisses in pain as the thieves strike her smartly, raising her arms defensively. Once Idris has made the best of the flanking advantage, she steps out of the deadly sandwich and joins Kivan by vanishing from view. She then draws one of Bokken's potions and prepares to drink it down.
|
|
Idris' blow finishes the job on the injured cultist before her. He sprawls to the ground, torn open by her mighty blow, and crawls a few inches towards Seraphina before expiring.
Milo nocks another arrow to his bow and switches his aim from the outermost cultist to the one who charged Maja. Taking advantage of his target's off-balance stance, Milo feathers him with an arrow and elicits a gasp as the hit drives air from the intruder's lungs. Meanwhile, Nix keeps the outermost cultist at bay, taking a few scratches from his cruel blade, but preventing him from joining his companions.
Kivan's minions continue to shriek and scratch at the intruders, but don't achieve anything besides being disgusting.
The cultists cry out in disappointment when Seraphina vanishes. Their magic-using leader thrusts a hand in a pocket and produces a fistful of ground, glittering mica. He places this to his lips and blows, and swirling, golden particles fill the air in the middle of the combat - coating everybody in a cloud of vivid dust that negates the benefit of invisibility! The clinging particles blow into Idris' eyes, clouding her vision and dazzling her with intense motes of light. . From its wailing, you gather that one of the lemures is suffering from the same condition.
Seizing the opportunity to renew their attacks on Seraphina, a pair of cultists tumble into position to flank and subdue her with their saps. The one who had been fighting her before nimbly rolls around the lemure threatening him, but his strike goes wide and hisses through the air in a shower of golden sparks. The other cultist isn't so lucky. He hits the ground awkwardly, and one of the lemures scratches him as he goes by. Idris hears his pained curse and feels the breeze of his movement, and lashes out with her sword, connecting perfectly with his neck and severing it clean off. The headless body takes two steps towards Seraphina and crumples to the ground, spouting blood. Another cultist advances upon the blinded duelist, dealing her a slight wound to the arm.
The wounded cultist in front of Milo seeks to take revenge for his injury, piercing his armor with a slash of the cultist's blade.
Seeing his forces start to fall, the cultist leader moves amid the horses and grabs one by the saddle.
|
|
Your stay on the back of whatever's carrying you stretches out for hours. You could slip your bonds at any time, but choose to play along for now to determine just why you've been singled out for capture and perhaps rescue your friendly business rival from the clutches of these attackers. Tightfisted though he is, Swift will surely owe you one should you spring him from this predicament.
Finally, the rocking motion slows and stops. You hear a strange voice from the direction you've been traveling. It sounds human, but somehow wrong in a way that sends shivers down your spine. It has to be coming from the abomination that mimicked Swift's voice, as the revulsion the sound makes you feel could not be a product of some rider or companion to the beast.
"I have the tiefling, as requested. Unharmed - I didn't even muss her hair. She's bound, but she'll be awake by now so watch your tongue. Her stuff is in this bag. I'll be having my reward now."
"Indeed you will," comments another voice, this one distinctly that of a normal human. "You have served us well today, beast. Here is the gold promised - even now my men will be returning from the village with an infant for you. Do us all a favor and indulge yourself outside the walls when they arrive, mmm? Some of the aspirants might not take kindly to such a display. You understand, of course."
"I am aware of your kind's aversion to seeing their young eaten, yes. That does not trouble me."
"Good. Aspirants! Take this one to the cell with the others."
Seraphina narrowed her eyes against the glittering motes, wondering at the thieves' strange behavior toward her. Kesten had told her that any group of combatants worth their salt would be apt to target a magic user first, but this seemed like a disproportionate response all the same...
'And why the saps? Do they mean to kidnap me for ransom?', she thought to herself, her head still throbbing from the blows.
She stepped away from her attacker and drank deeply of Bokken's potion, thinking on the eccentric old fellow with gratitude. She called out to Kivan in Sylvan, hoping it was a language their strange attackers did not understand.
This time out of nowhere, another song comes forth to aid the brave self-called lords in the battle!
Pretty pretends to be really scared when there are Aspirants close to her, simply breathing heavily as a scared woman would, and will use the opportunity to later shake and squirm to try to get closer to the aspirants weapons. As part of her show she will also speaks through the gag, what could clearly be understood as please and let me go!
She quickly processes the information, taking whatever she can from their conversation. She didn't know what the beast was, but there was something else with it, probably a flying creature since it did not make any noise on their trip here. Or maybe it was at some distance from them, but it did not matter now. To run carrying her weight would certainly leave a track for the others to follow, so she could just wait, but it would not do. She was never one to hope or wait for rescue, the lonely wolf. Pretty assumed this guys were mercenaries, maybe from the Daggermark guild, but those usually killed their targets, instead of kidnapping them. So the logic guided her to believe this were hired thugs from the Surtova, again. Unharmed. The word stick to her mind like a motto, guiding her actions. It could be she was the component for some sort of sacrifice or ritual, but now that was unlikely in her thought. Who else could it be? The Surtova had proved guilty in countless opportunities, so yeah, they were suspects number one. It was just a matter of time for her to find evidence.
Although the player knew there were cultists around, Pretty did not thought so, specially when the leader mentioned they did not like seeing infants being eaten. It was simple to figure that cultists could do anything, and not wanting to see the evil act was an evidence against that hypotheses, so mercenaries were more likely.
She knows the boss is usually stronger than other members, since he would have to keep the flock together, so she waited until they carried her away from him and from the beast, to use her chance. If they wanted her unharmed they would not throw her in a pit from fear of hurting her from the fall. It was really a cell, as they said, and she put together a quick plan.
Guards had weapons and keys to the cells. Plus, everyone carried a dagger or other light weapon these days, which she could certainly try to obtain with her quick hands. She had the element of surprise, and the ability to quickly kill unaware targets. Plus, if they were humans they had not much of a chance against her darkness ability at night. Regardless of how many guards there were around her, the only time one of them would be busy would be when opening the cell to throw her inside. Plus one would be holding/carrying her. It would also be an opportunity to get the keys, and maybe push one of them inside, if need be. She hoped they were no big deal, but in any case, she could not be harmed. The tiefling also had a child to save, and to start a revolution freeing prisoners from the dungeons was always a nice strategy, if not a good decoy.
So, the tiefling planned to do as follows: When being carried, already far from the leader (or in another room), first thing to do was to lift the blindfold a bit, so she could see a little bit around her from the shadow of it. She will try to steal one of the guard's light weapons, hiding it on her person, waiting for the proper moment. She will pay attention at the voices, walking and breathing sounds around her, trying to identify how many there are, to help her better plan the next actions.
When they get to the cell door, in which there will be probably prisoner voices around (including maybe Swift calling her name) with the entrance of a new inmate, or in case she hears the noises made by locks and keys, she will act. Releasing her arms and legs from the restraints, she grabs the dagger or other weapon her tail brings into her hands, and activates her darkness ability. With the room in pitch black dark, she has just to finish removing the blindfold, and starts the slaughter. If she did not get a weapon up to this moment, it would now be the time to do so, after darkness has settled.
[ooc]You know, it's nice to play a highly intelligent character and not feel guilty when overthinking something.
Idris blinks furiously but her vision is still impaired. She slashes wildly at the man in front of her, trying to see as best she can to avoid a counterattack.
Kivan moves forward and makes the ground under the cultist leader and the horse he is trying to take greasy trying to cause them to fall. Then Kivan teleports from his location to be closer.
Seraphina draws her wand of Burning Hands and calls out positions to Idris, hoping to help her locate their foes with her blade. She thought of Pretty, likely slipping further and further beyond their grasp as they were delayed here. Angrily she shouted,
"What have you done with Pretty? Cowardly dogs, did you fear to face our company united?!"
|
|
Maja's arrow streaks through the air unerringly, guided by her faith and the wrath of Erastil. The cultist caster flinches from the hit, and goes down in a heap as his feet slide out from under him in a pool of magical grease. For good measure, the horse slips and falls too.
Shaking away sparkling motes, Idris deftly maneuvers to flank the cultist threatening Seraphina, slashing the man with a punishing blow.
Kivan's Lemures continue to clutter up the battlefield with their horrific presence, but one seizes the opportunity to savage the fallen caster with a pair of raking claws. The lemure coos horribly at the pain it's causing.
Seeing the cultists targeting Seraphina, Milo and Nix do their best to keep their targets distracted. "You want another one?" Milo taunts as he steps back and puts a second arrow into the cultist in front of him.
Meanwhile, Nix's gleaming white fangs snap at the furthest cultist, drawing blood as they sink into his thigh. The wolf wrestles the cultist to the ground, and strikes again as the robed man climbs to his feet.
Both Nix and Milo evade cultist blades as they continue to hold the flank. Seraphina isn't so lucky, and the lone, surrounded cultist continues singlemindedly to attack her, smashing her in the face with his sap.
"You can see what becomes of your tiefling," the man says, enraptured. "It will be glorious, sublime, divine! Just give in, come with us, her ascension can be yours too!"
Back in this reality, the cultist leader struggles to his feet, earning another slash from the lemure's claws. Gritting his teeth, he sloshes slowly over to another horse and prepares to mount it.
The pain of the blow sent Seraphina into a fury and the cultists babbling confused her which only served to enrage her further.
"Mad Zealots! I fear you won't live to see your dream realized!" she snarled as she clutched at the fool's throat with her claws, acid streaming from the deep green talons.
Seeing Seraphina's wrath physically melt a hole in the bandit's throat, Idris looks around, seeing only one of their foes in a position to escape. Dropping her sword, she dashes to a place where she has a clear line of sight to the spellcaster, slipping her bow off her shoulders as she moves, and rapidly draws an arrow and shoots.