Ahto's first two shots whiz past the hovering beast, which snarls tauntingly in response. It awkwardly flaps its wings to regain some altitude but clearly has trouble hovering aloft.
It flaps along the parapet and swings its broad tail, aiming its stinger for Ahto. The nasty strike lands true, and nearly tosses Ahto against the wooden ramparts. However, he silently thanks the might of Abadar, for he can feel his body fighting off the beast's venom.
The wyvern settles upon the parapet, its talons digging into the groaning timbers. It interposes itself between the party and Asham, where she stands atop the wall overlooking the gate. Meanwhile, a competing call goes out among the other defenders on the walls: the enemy has been sighted advancing rapidly towards the walls.
With the beast on the ground, the Vixen doesn't wait for Wonky's secret weapon to keep the beast still. Especially with the monster so close to Asham.
She runs to the monster, shouting, "Pick on someone yer own size!" She means Sams, and trusts the big guy (really big!) intends to body-slam the beast into kicking range.
For now, VV dashes as close to the creature as she can and attacks—
—OR, if she's able to kick the beast, she strikes with her preferred weapon—her boot:
Desperate to put a target between beauty and beast, the Vixen scampers across Sams' gigantic back, then bounds off his shoulder to leap over the wyvern!
From above, she stomps the beast with her heel—
—then skids to a halt, ensuring the only path to Asham is over the Vixen's own dead body.
"I got yer back, Cutie," she tells the soldier. "Focus on the bandits."
The wyvern fends off Sams' attempt to seize it by the wings, buffeting his enlarged knuckles with reproachful but harmless flaps. The Vixen leaps off the brawler like a springboard, and she brings the spike of her heel down upon the beast's scaly head before rolling with the fall and landing safely on the far side, interposing herself between the wyvern and Asham.
Wonky's aim is unerring, and with one creation she fires another - the tanglefoot bag practically exploding upon the wyvern's scaly torso. The wyvern resists being stuck fast to the parapet, but the hardening goo quickly restricts the movements of his neck and wings.
With his blade in hand, Ahto is back in his element. His greatsword carves a deep wound upon the wyvern's flank.
The winged foe snaps its jaws and swings its tail at the inquisitor, but the hardening goo slows its movements just enough for Ahto to avoid the attacks. However, it swings its wings in backwards arcs, striking the Vixen with their broad, leathery expanses - as though catching her between two heavy sails.
As the rest of the outpost's defenders nock arrows and prepare spells against the bandits and mercenaries surging towards the walls, Asham is distracted. She only draws her bowstring halfway, her eyes more keenly locked on the winged beast in front of the Vixen than on the approaching enemies below.
♥️♥️
Distracted herself from being swatted by a wing, VV's a bit off-balance—
—or perhaps she is distracted by the sweet soldier girl. Her masked eyes get a glimpse of Asham's as the Vixen spins into a second kick.
She reassures the pretty soldier, "Show the men what ye showed me at the range, Asham. I ain't gonna back down from this dragon wannabe. When I say I'm here to protect ye, I mean it."
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Wonky curses in draconic as she realises that she has no coins on her person in order to cast her next spell and instead draws and attempts to use her wand on her beloved pooch.
Wonky gives a command to Sprocket.
"להגן עלי!"
She then takes a five foot step towards the catapult.
The wyvern's scales hold fast against the latest volley of kicks, grasps, and sword swings. The beast flaps its wings to gain altitude, but the hardening tangle goo restricts its movement too much and it remains perched upon the parapet.
Protected by his master's magic, Sprocket woofs bravely at the looming monster.
The wyvern's stinger tail is parried by Ahto's blade, but the Abadaran inquisitor finds himself unable to avoid the lunging snap of the monster's maw. He is seized by the wyvern's sharp teeth, locked in its powerful jaws. Meanwhile, the strong muscles of the creature's wings lash and beat at Sams' arms, fending off the enlarged brawler.
Bolstered by the Vixen's words, Asham looses one of the first arrows in the opening volley from the defenders. The missiles rain down upon the enemy, now in striking distance of the walls and gate. Already, a few lightly armored foes fall to spell and shot.
Some of the mercenaries carry a felled log, and they aim the makeshift ram for the trading post gates. Other hired raiders begin hurling flaming bottles of oil, not nearly as potent as Wonky's creations, but still a danger to the wood and thatch buildings within the palisade.
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Wonky races to the catapult and pulls its lever, delivering its payload onto the oncoming enemy tide with an inspiring message.
”For Oleg and Svetlana!” she calls out.
♥️♥️
The Vixen misses (yet again!), but as she whirls around to kick with her left, she sees her words have given Asham confidence. The Vixen beams with pride and—
—drives her heel straight up!
"Nice shooting, girls!"
Her encouraging words are for both Asham and Wonky.
The catapult hurls a load of grapeshot into the air. The fist-sized stones, wrapped in cheesecloth, strike the ground and rip through the thin bundling. They scatter, striking several nearby attackers. The stones break bones in legs and arms, taking the fight out of a couple men.
The Vixen's second, upward kick pierces through a joint in the wyvern's scales, and her heel strikes deeply into a bundle of nerves and muscle at the base of the creature's tail.
Sams throttles the wyvern's sinewy neck then moves his thick fingers up, and he begins to pry the monster's jaws open. With this help, Ahto is able to break free from the toothy hold upon him.
Rather than breaking free, the wyvern chomps down upon Sams's broad forearm. Although it does not put much force into the bite - yet - it also plants one of its hind talons upon Sams' thigh, getting into position to rend the brawler apart.
The Vixen unleashes another kick combo—
—but bloody bits of wyvernhide impaled on her stilettos apparently make the floor slippery! She plants her left foot on solid ground to maintain her footing so she doesn't tumble over the rampart!
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Wonky draws a sling bullet in her stonebow, judging carefully her aim in between the grappled Sams, the wounded Ahto, and the whirling Vixen.
Her wildly inaccurate shot rockets down into the courtyard of Oleg's compound. Wonky calls out cheerfully.
"Look out below! I am ever so sorry!"
She tsks to herself in irritation as Sprocket whine-growls on her left side.
"There is no space for you, my sweet," Wonky says with a little bit of relief in her voice.
The Vixen's latest kicks simply rebound off the wyvern's scales. Wonky's stray shot bounces off the stable roof, bothering no one. The few people in the courtyard - Oleg, Svetlana, Paval, and some of the indentures - are too busy scrambling to extinguish the fires caused by the flaming bottles and jars hurled by the attackers.
Ahto's sword manages to find its mark. Pincered between foes and still struggling against the hardened goo, the wyvern is not as evasive as it could be. The broad blade carves another another bloody furrow in the beast's hide.
Unable to break free from the creature's sharp grasp, Sams groans as its talons and teeth tear at his muscles before it releases its grasp.
It's following flurry of attacks is less successful. The Vixen dodges a backward thrust of its tail stinger, Sams deflects another snap of its jaws with a blow from his forearms and fists, and Ahto shields himself from the slap of its wings by holding up the flat of his greatsword.
Your fellow defenders continue to rain arrows, bolts, and stones upon the besiegers. Their improvised battering ram strikes against the gates, and though the old, worn wood groans, it does not yet buckle.
Aris and Kalima torment the attackers with their spells, while Barris does his best to bless and protect the fort's defenders. Each twang of Hexa's bowstring precedes another bandit's cry of pain beyond the walls.
Each half of this siege - one battle against man, one against beast - is too enrapt by its own struggle to take notice of the other. You hope that your defenders are winning, just as they hope you are gaining the upper hand against the wyvern.
♥️♥️
The Vixen strikes again!
Her dominant leg dominates!
But the form of her boot that smells of wyvern ass stinks!
In any case, the unshakable Vixen offers words of encouragement to Sams:
"Tell him he's weak, Sams! Ye're the bigger, better giant here! He won't understand yer words, but'll take yer tone as a challenge—and he won't fly away from yer challenge!"
The Vixen bases her words on what she thinks of sociopaths. Did she get any of that from her Huntress mother...?
...well, if her words embolden Sams, the words are right enough.
Ahto and the Vixen's latest attacks elicit a terrible, pained screech from the wyvern, seemingly on death's door.
"Finish him, Sams! Then hurl his corpse right on top o' the battering ram!"
(The Vixen's been thinking how the dead wyvern could both demoralize the enemy men AND block the gate!)
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Wonky recognizes how close to death the wyvern is, so she holds her fire for now.
A one-two set of punches by Sams cracks the wyvern's skull, knocks the beast unconscious, and sends it tumbling over the edge of the palisade. The large, scaly body crashes at the foot of the trading post's walls, sending the besiegers scattering back.
The remaining bandits immediately flee, leaving their mercenary allies to continue the siege on their own.
Wonky turns her stonebow towards these remaining attackers, and her launched flask of alchemist's fire explodes upon one of the armored mercenaries, showering his comrades with splashes of burning oil.
Her bow having never left her hands, the Vixen nocks an arrow and moves to Asham's side. She offers the soldier girl a smile as she pulls the drawstring of her comp bow, then—eyes cast downward at the few remaining foes—VV aims at the nearest merc but does not fire.
"Hands up! Weapons down!"
She says nothing more until the men comply (or force her to loose that arrow).
The Vixen is almost certain that Ahto's booming words will talk sense into the enemy. She glances at Ahto, noting the direction of his stern gaze. She then points her arrow at the merc Ahto addressed.
If he gives the wrong answer, he'll die first.
She has words for the enemy, but none more effective than Ahto's thundering tone. She remains silent, saving her breath for those she'd rather talk to: Wonky, Sams, Ahto, Barris, Asham...
She is of course relieved her crazy stunt to protect Asham paid off, as well as her words to the girl.
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There are perhaps a dozen and a half mercenaries still standing outside the trading post walls. If the fallen wyvern had not already caught their attention and stayed their hands, then Ahto's booming voice completes the task.
The battering ram is dropped to the ground. Ten of the mercenaries also drop their weapons and profess their surrender.
The rest turn and flee like their bandit allies.
The Vixen lowers her bow, releasing a silent breath of relief. She then turns to Asham, smiles at her and gives the pretty soldier a peck on the cheek. "That's for defending the fort honorably. I'm glad I'd the privilege to fight alongside o' ye. Let's chat later. For now, call out to Barris. Have him immediately check on the man who was thrown by the wyvern, then see Ahto and Sams healed, sooner the better. Tell him the Vixen says so." With a grin, she adds, "If he says, 'oh that b!+%$,' pay no mind. Long as he heals the men, he's in me good graces."
She intends to pay compliments to her fellow dragon-slayers as well, but for now, she helps handle the surrender.
She leaps down onto the dead wyvern—
—and remains atop its corpse purely for the imagery:
She's hardly wounded, likely to the point of appearing unscathed, and the wyvern blood on her boots and hem should be testament enough that she was among those who fought the wyvern within striking distance.
She speaks to the ten men from her morbid pedestal:
"I appreciate ye having the sense to lay down yer arms. Me boss gave ye leave to flee, but ye didn't. So ye're not cowards. And by staying behind while others flee, I'm more inclined to believe ye've no plans to regroup and make another go at us.
"So, for starters, the lot o' ye'll step away from yer discarded weapons. Park yer bottoms by this dead wyvern here, and chat with me. 'Cause, much as I enjoyed literally kicking this beast's ass, I'd like to know who arranged for a frigging wyvern? Hell of a favor, and for what? What end justifies such excessive means?"
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Wonky thinks quickly.
"We should most definitely secure the cooperation of at least a number of these hired arms so that they might confirm the suspected identity of their employer," the gnome states emphatically as she descends from the catapult seat. She puts away her stonebow and draws a wand from her work vest.
"Sams and Ahto, you appear to need some healing. Please allow me."
If the men sit around the wyvern's corpse as directed, the Vixen seats herself on the wyvern—where a rider would sit, but side-saddle and demure.
Crossing her legs, the Vixen repeats Wonky's words in a pensive tone, "Secure cooperation..." She turns to head toward Ahto, just for a glance before she again faces the merc. Her gloved fingers tap, tap, tap her leather clad knee. "Sounds like the direction a civilized conversation'd go in, long as it goes forward."
The Vixen gives the merc that pleasant smile that's worked for the Child since childhood—her freckled face and vermilion curls securing deals for her bumpkin fur-trader parents. Thinking of what Mother would say of her performance against a wyvern makes the smile genuine.
But the look directed at the lead merc brings a clear meaning to the Vixen's spoken words and body language:
"I'm in a good mood, but me boss—ye know exactly who I mean—holds the purse strings, as well as the rope. Move the conversation forward by making the first move: give information without a guarantee o' what ye'll get. Me boss's the last man ye want to hold out on or haggle with."
"We didn't run," one of the mercenaries speaks, leading the others to follow him and sit at the foot of the dead wyvern, "because we thought you'd put arrows in our backs for fun. We was hired to fight a campaign against Pitax a few seasons back, and that's what King Irovetti ordered when we tried to retreat."
This spokesman for the mercenaries seems to handily understand the Vixen's veiled meaning. He's not willing to risk his or his comrades' survival by doing anything reckless.
"The sot who hired our company in Mivon said his boss had also bribed that dead beast there to join the attack with gold and goats. Our orders were to sack this outpost. 'Burn it to the ground,' he says to us."
Ayles Megesen and his younger brother, Dirty Jeb, are lying with arrows in them. You also see Fat Norry and Cragger Kench among the dead.
You notice one man still moving. Squinting your eyes, you realize it's Topper Red. He was one of those guys that was really good with words, and he joined the gang because of how exciting he thought it would be to be a bandit.
There are a few other men that you remember but who you don't see: Dovan from Nisroch, Auchs, Akiros, and Falgrim Sneeg.
The Vixen is impressed she got the man to talk. She's not sure if Ahto will give them anything other than their lives, so she promises nothing.
The Vixen rises and walks across the unconscious wyvern's neck as she speaks:
"There's nothing fun about killing. Only reason to kill when a battle's over is to protect."
The Vixen looks down at the puncture wound from her head-stomp, raises her leg above the beast's cracked skull and drives her heel downward to stop the beast's pesky breathing.
"For the goats," she says, then adds, "And people. No self-respecting Huntress' daughter spares a beast who's a taste for human blood."
Wyvern-hide boots. F@*$ yes.
"The 'sot' who hired ye... I suspected it'd be a man." She turns to look Ahto in the eyes, tapping at the air with her fingers, then caressing the curve of her waist and thigh as she says to him, "Might be an interesting conversation."
The gesture completes the sentence: ...pulling the Lady's puppet strings.
The Vixen's stomp pierces the wyvern's skull like a duck egg, sparking a collective recoil from the surrendering soldiers, afeared that they might be splashed in dragon's blood.
"He gave his name as Morvius," the mercenary spokesman says, idly pulling tufts of grass from the ground as he speaks. His words come with a droll confidence, as though he was not sitting upon ground now fertilized with blood. "He was a Chelish devil-kisser if I ever saw one. The pale sot claimed he was a steward, acting on behalf of his noble master. He got right defensive whenever we tried to pry a name from him, but he did let slip that it was a woman he served."
"Please...please help me," drift the weak words.
You trace the pleas to a badly wounded man, dressed like a bandit, trying to drag himself out from beneath one of his slain comrades.
The Vixen leaps down from the wyvern. Her protective instinct kicks in. Bypassing the seated mercs, she dashes over to the voice, and picks up the 200+ pound corpse with ease, tossing it off the badly wounded man.
She calls up to Asham, "I got a live one here, Ash! Can ye get Barris out here? Quickly!"
She says to the bandit, "Hang in there. Help's coming."
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Wonky spends the immediate period after the battle meticulously checking over Sprocket for injuries, and then inspecting the catapult for any wear and tear from the single use during the combat. She avoids the post-melee conference unless pressed to join the group, preferring to tend to any of the wounded from within Oleg’s compound.
The catapult that fired once under Wonky's aegis has fared well. However, the other catapult that she had managed to ready in time for the battle is in worse condition. Garess' soldiers fired it twice during the brief siege, and the crossbeam has nearly cracked in two. Even attempting to winch the arm back again could cause the critical component to break.
The Vixen frees the wounded man, distinguished by his dirt-caked frizzy mop of red hair. His leg is clearly broken, but he also seems to have trouble breathing. In a few moments, the post gates grind open and Barris shoves his way out and rushes over beside the Vixen and Ahto.
He recognizes that the man has suffered several broken ribs, likely from one of the other shots launched by the second repaired catapult. He immediately sets about tending to the man's injuries.
Sams wanders out and recognizes the wounded man from his own time with the bandits, identifying him as Topper Red.
The Vixen softly sighs in relief as Barris tends to Topper's wounds. She offers the pitiful red-haired man a smile.
Had I a brother...
The Child's endearing thought is immediately interrupted by the Vixen's.
—he'd not be a f&&+ing bandit.
The Vixen's overstimulated mind can barely keep up with her flickering eyes—guilt over casually tossing a dead man, triumph over the fallen beast, bloody boots—gross!—the ten mercs? Should she keep 'em talking? Ahto's on it—where's Asham? How's she holding up? Wonky—need to thank her for the tangle-goop—why does Sams' clothes still fit when he changes size?
The Vixen's looks like all is right in her head. And in a blink, the whirling noise stops. She says to Barris in a tone of feigned calm and genuine concern, "The wyvern threw a man through a roof. How is he?"