Unafe spits a hunk of human shoulder out of her mouth as the guard crumples. She throws a quick smile over her shoulder to Nexander for looking out for her -- too wrapped up in battle to consider that her smile consists of sharp, bloody dinosaur teeth that seem too big to fit in her mouth. ”Xander, can you reach Halib, to stabilize him?” she asks in a deeper than usual voice.
As she turns her head back she sees Thorgrim easily drop the second guard she’d clawed. She then directs her attention to Yakini who (to Unafe’s great happiness) has just emerged from the stable. ”Breakfast.” she smiles, pointing to the guard captain. The spinosaurus wastes no time, taking three bounding steps to directly across from Ardeshir and then attempting to take a big bite out of the captain with a roar.
Meanwhile Unafe decides to follow Thorgrim's lead. She charges past him, clapping him on the back as she passes she calls out ”You hunt well, bold brother,” and then attempts to sink her teeth into one of the bowmen.
____________________
Unafe
HP 21/21 | AC 19 (T 12, FF 17) | Fort +5, Ref +2, Will +8; +2 vs Fear and Death Effects
Totem Transformation: 1/2 times, 2/10 rounds
Yakini
HP 24/24 | AC 19 (T 12, FF 17) | Fort +5, Ref +5, Will +2
Gi'chak spins as the greedy human interferes with his challenge. He glares at the man, his position allowing to look down upon him, though from less than a commanding height. He waves his gun in Jack's direction--though the barrel remains raised to the sky instead as he begins to lecture him.
"Do not interfere! Gi'chak has claimed that one f~~oohwawemenaee." he trails off as the new arrival's spell hits him. He is just beginning to turn to try and figure out what hit him, when something else hits him as well, sending him stumbling back and away from the following shots, one splashing into the water of the fountain, while two other close shots bounce harmlessly from his armor, only damaging his robes. He sits almost waist deep in the water, staring around blearily, wondering where the guy he was meant to be shooting had gone.
_________________________
Unafe
HP 21/21 | AC 17 (T 10, FF 15) | Fort +5, Ref +2, Will +8; +2 vs Fear and Death Effects
Totem Transformation: 1/2[/b] times, 2/10 rounds
Yakini
HP 24/24 | AC 19 (T 12, FF 17) | Fort +5, Ref +5, Will +2
"He looks dead to me," Nexander responds to Unafe. The gunslinging bard hustles across the courtyard towards Ardeshir and Aluriel. He swings his revolver around in a steady hand and squeezes the trigger again, this time aiming at the leader of the murderous guardsmen. Another clap of thunder reverberates off the villa's walls as the bullet impacts the man, staggering him momentarily. Bright crimson blood blooms from the wound in the guard's shoulder, beginning to spread over his chest in time with the rapid beats of his heart. Nexander grins, displaying his perfectly even white teeth. "Zing!" he quips.
__________________________________________
Ardeshir felt the scimitar cut past the mithril of his brand new chain shirt and into the cloth and flesh that lay beneath. A hot rush of blood spilled out, soaking his chest and dribbling down his legs. With that warmth came an intense pain, nausea, and a feeling of light headedness. Was this the price of defending one of his new companions? Was this the rewards of chivalry? He did not have time to dwell on the thoughts as he raised his shield to block an incoming spear strike from one of the other men who came to the villa with a desire to murder in their hearts. Righteous anger began to take over as Ardeshir parried another strike, this time with the scimitar he wielded in his right hand. Rather than cloud his judgment, the zealous anger renewed his diminishing strength and lent him a heightened focus.
Thrusting his shield forward at the face of the man wielding the beautiful scimitar with both his hands, he forced his assailant into raising his weapon high to deflect the feinting strike. With a quick pivot on his left foot and bending completely with both knees, Ardeshir dropped himself low to the ground in a cat-like crouch and like the claws of a magnificent tiger, his own scimitar swept out across the waistline of the villain before him with the intent of either disemboweling him or severing his spine if he were fool enough to turn his back on a Kelishite wielding a scimitar.
His intent and style was correct, but Ardeshir both underestimated the skill of the man that had engaged him and the extent of the injury he had received. When he was supposed to lunge forward, he found an agonizing pain explode across his stomach and travel into his arms. His blade fell far short and the enemy was able to brush it aside as if he were a child. The greater insult was that the man turned his back on him. Folding his arm over his stomach, barely able to hold the scimitar Ardeshir remained crouched, with his sheild upraised, not only providing a more difficult target for himself, but also giving the enlarged woman behind him an easier avenue over which to strike.
Jack, finding that he would be unable to fire at his target with the ensuing melee, drops his underwater crossbow in the fountain and deftly leaps onto the ledge, drawing his rapier as he does so. He then steps off of the fountain and, using the momentum, fluidly goes into a roll behind the spear-armed guard, orienting himself towards the man's back. Rising, he brings his rapier up through a weak point in the mans armor, striking a vital spot. The man reels in pain, though does not yet fall; However, should he take anymore punishment, he seems as if he will be unable to cope with it.
________________________
After having been slashed, shot, bit, and shot again, the man who cut down Halib is looking both frustrated and afraid; Upon seeing Yakini burst out of the stables, an angry beast of razor sharp claws and a maw filled with knives, the man's eyes go wide with horror, increasing when the ferocious dinosaur charges and tears at him with its teeth. Despite this unfair treatment, however, the man still stands - if barely; a testament to his durability. Though heavily injured, bleeding from numerous wounds on his body, he continues to fight. He switches stances, adding a defensive posture to his offense while still swinging with all of his might.
His scimitar gripped in both hands, he lets out a warcry, bringing the blade up from below, using Yakini's recklessness against her. His blade connects with scale, cutting deep and causing the beast to roar in anger and pain. Stepping in tandem with his swing, he moves out from between Ardeshir and the roaring Yakini, ending up away from all three of his enemies that surround him. He then lets go of his scimitar with one hand, reaches into a small pouch at his waist, and pulls out a glass vial filled with a churning red liquid, preparing to pop the cork off and consume it.
__________________________________
Aluriel swings her polearm in a huge arc, aiming for the Guard Captain.
________________________________
Starting Location: M12 to N13
Enlarged - AC 16
Standard Attack: Fauchard against Guard Captain
Swift Action - none
Move Action - none
Ending Location: M12 to N13
Opening the door and stepping out of the guardhouse with an all-too sinister look on his face, one of Halib's guards looks around at the ensuing chaos. Wearing a suit of bulky chainmail while carrying a dagger, the muscular Kelish man spots Gi'chak on the fountain and, grinning, speaks words of power while simultaneously weaving symbols with his open hand.
Gi'chak, unprepared for the assault on his mind, finds himself dazed as he stands in plain view ontop of the fountain. With the monkey-goblin's butt being washed by the fountain's spray, he is completely unprepared for the following barrage.
The four bow-armed guards, spotting a juicy target of opportunity with the goblin being in plain sight, not to mention dazed, all target him in unison. However, Gi'chak is able to dodge three of the arrows, his clumsy, dazed movements looking more like a drunken brawler; One arrow still finds it's mark however, and strikes him in the shoulder.
The two remaining spear-armed guards, meanwhile, each attack their own targets; The one in front of the now-heavily-injured Ardeshir drops his defensive stance and attacks, hoping to finish the job his captain started. His jab, however, fails to connect with any flesh, instead being misdirected by Ardeshir's successful shield block. Thorgrim's attacker attempts to skewer the now-raging barbarian, but instead manages to lodge his spear-head in Thorgrim's armor instead of pentrating to the beefy flesh beneath it. Eyes wide in fear, he can only wait to see his fate after his failed skewer attempt.
-----
Not pausing the carried momentum of his sword's motion, Thorgrim brings a massive foot forward and wheels his blade around in both hands to deliver a downward thrust between the remaining guard's collarbone. The opening afforded him by Unafe's waylay is obvious even in his enraged state, and the pale giant obliges such a gift with all the respect it is due: a well placed stroke to skewer his enemy and grant a swift death. Thorgrim continues his own song to accompany the reaping melody of pierced innards and crunching bones as Dómrbrandr slides through leather plates, flesh, and bone alike...
...and out his lower back, halted only by the same elaborate tiles that now drown in the other spear wielder's blood—blood that now mingles with that of his brother in arms. Thorgrim presses the sword in to the hilt, not bothering to remove the rapidly draining corpse that yet dangles from his blade as he stalks towards the fog bank that appeared suddenly around the gated entryway, the limbs of his latest victim and unwilling passenger spasming and thrashing in death throes.
-----
Unafe spits a hunk of human shoulder out of her mouth as the guard crumples. She throws a quick smile over her shoulder to Nexander for looking out for her -- too wrapped up in battle to consider that her smile consists of sharp, bloody dinosaur teeth that seem too big to fit in her mouth. ”Xander, can you reach Halib, to stabilize him?” she asks in a deeper than usual voice.
As she turns her head back she sees Thorgrim easily drop the second guard she’d clawed. She then directs her attention to Yakini who (to Unafe’s great happiness) has just emerged from the stable. ”Breakfast.” she smiles, pointing to the guard captain. The spinosaurus wastes no time, taking three bounding steps to directly across from Ardeshir and then attempting to take a big bite out of the captain with a roar.
Meanwhile Unafe decides to follow Thorgrim's lead. She charges past him, clapping him on the back as she passes she calls out ”You hunt well, bold brother,” and then attempts to sink her teeth into one of the bowmen. The bowman, not expecting an angry woman to try and bite him, tries to block her charge with his arm, instead managing to give Unafe something easy to hit; Her teeth sink into the man's arm so deep that she nearly bites all the way through.
-----
Ardeshir felt the scimitar cut past the mithril of his brand new chain shirt and into the cloth and flesh that lay beneath. A hot rush of blood spilled out, soaking his chest and dribbling down his legs. With that warmth came an intense pain, nausea, and a feeling of light headedness. Was this the price of defending one of his new companions? Was this the rewards of chivalry? He did not have time to dwell on the thoughts as he raised his shield to block an incoming spear strike from one of the other men who came to the villa with a desire to murder in their hearts. Righteous anger began to take over as Ardeshir parried another strike, this time with the scimitar he wielded in his right hand. Rather than cloud his judgment, the zealous anger renewed his diminishing strength and lent him a heightened focus.
Thrusting his shield forward at the face of the man wielding the beautiful scimitar with both his hands, he forced his assailant into raising his weapon high to deflect the feinting strike. With a quick pivot on his left foot and bending completely with both knees, Ardeshir dropped himself low to the ground in a cat-like crouch and like the claws of a magnificent tiger, his own scimitar swept out across the waistline of the villain before him with the intent of either disemboweling him or severing his spine if he were fool enough to turn his back on a Kelishite wielding a scimitar.
His intent and style was correct, but Ardeshir both underestimated the skill of the man that had engaged him and the extent of the injury he had received. When he was supposed to lunge forward, he found an agonizing pain explode across his stomach and travel into his arms. His blade fell far short and the enemy was able to brush it aside as if he were a child. The greater insult was that the man turned his back on him. Folding his arm over his stomach, barely able to hold the scimitar Ardeshir remained crouched, with his sheild upraised, not only providing a more difficult target for himself, but also giving the enlarged woman behind him an easier avenue over which to strike.
-----
Jack, finding that he would be unable to fire at his target with the ensuing melee, drops his underwater crossbow in the fountain and deftly leaps onto the ledge, drawing his rapier as he does so. He then steps off of the fountain and, using the momentum, fluidly goes into a roll behind the spear-armed guard, orienting himself towards the man's back. Rising, he brings his rapier up through a weak point in the mans armor, striking a vital spot. The man reels in pain, though does not yet fall; However, should he take anymore punishment, he seems as if he will be unable to cope with it.
-----
NOW YOU BURN! FACE THE BURNING WRATH OF THE DRAGONSENT! thinks Sasbrek when he sees the captain and one of his men fall into position like chess pieces. He raises his hands in a cone around his mouth, ready to exhale fire on them. NO! Be patient. Be the smartest of your brood. Fight like a kobold, for your dragon powers are still hatching. Sasbrek’s train of thought is reestablished. The Dragon’s way is pushed back.
That foolish pest is going to get himself killed if I don’t help him. thinks looking at the wounded Gi’chak. His invisible hand fiddles at his belt, closing on the cherry wand. He points it at the opening where the arrows are coming from.
“You face a power you do not know,” his usually shrill voice becomes a low, menacing growl as it comes out of nowhere “You attack us… you play with force that should not be disturbed. The Dragonsent is not pleased.” fog starts rising from the ground, obscuring the archers. Men like them fear the dragon… while they should be worried about the kobold…
-----
"He looks dead to me," Nexander responds to Unafe. The gunslinging bard hustles across the courtyard towards Ardeshir and Aluriel. He swings his revolver around in a steady hand and squeezes the trigger again, this time aiming at the leader of the murderous guardsmen. Another clap of thunder reverberates off the villa's walls as the bullet impacts the man, staggering him momentarily. Bright crimson blood blooms from the wound in the guard's shoulder, beginning to spread over his chest in time with the rapid beats of his heart. Nexander grins, displaying his perfectly even white teeth. "Zing!" he quips.
-----
After having been slashed, shot, bit, and shot again, the man who cut down Halib is looking both frustrated and afraid; Upon seeing Yakini burst out of the stables, an angry beast of razor sharp claws and a maw filled with knives, the man's eyes go wide with horror, increasing when the ferocious dinosaur charges and tears at him with its teeth. Despite this unfair treatment, however, the man still stands - if barely; a testament to his durability. Though heavily injured, bleeding from numerous wounds on his body, he continues to fight. He switches stances, adding a defensive posture to his offense while still swinging with all of his might.
His scimitar gripped in both hands, he lets out a warcry, bringing the blade up from below, using Yakini's recklessness against her. His blade connects with scale, cutting deep and causing the beast to roar in anger and pain. Stepping in tandem with his swing, he moves out from between Ardeshir and the roaring Yakini, ending up away from all three of his enemies that surround him. He then lets go of his scimitar with one hand, reaches into a small pouch at his waist, and pulls out a glass vial filled with a churning red liquid, preparing to pop the cork off and consume it.
-----
Gi'chak spins as the greedy human interferes with his challenge. He glares at the man, his position allowing to look down upon him, though from less than a commanding height. He waves his gun in Jack's direction--though the barrel remains raised to the sky instead as he begins to lecture him.
"Do not interfere! Gi'chak has claimed that one f~~oohwawemenaee." he trails off as the new arrival's spell hits him. He is just beginning to turn to try and figure out what hit him, when something else hits him as well, sending him stumbling back and away from the following shots, one splashing into the water of the fountain, while two other close shots bounce harmlessly from his armor, only damaging his robes. He sits almost waist deep in the water, staring around blearily, wondering where the guy he was meant to be shooting had gone.
-----
Aluriel, menacing with a wicked smile upon her scarred face, finishes her incantations and grows to twice her size, dwarfing even Thorgrim in height. Hefting her now-equally-massive polearm, she swings the blade in a wide arc, attempting to bisect the guard captain with it, using the force of both her newfound strength and her height advantage to increase the weapon's deadliness. However, the man anticipates her broad, over-the-top maneuver and sidesteps it just in time, Aluriel's blade wooshing past him and leaving a deep crack in the paved stone where the man was just moments prior.
-----
On the floor, the two felled-guards each lose a little more of their own life-force, much like Halib; Their blood joins the growing puddles on the pavement, each leaving their own mark on Halib's home.
<< | | | >>
Caught in the rising fog from Sasbrek's illusion, Halib's guard shakes his head, able to clear the fog from his mind, discovering it is but an illusion. Now able to see clearly again, his eyes narrow at the hulking, raging form of Thorgrim dragging along one of the guards impaled upon his sword. He grins while twirling his dagger in his hand, and moving with what seems an unnatural grace, not to mention far quieter than his chain mail should allow, he approaches Thorgrim cautiously.
With a gesture of his hand, the man speaks words of power; Ones different than the previous spell he cast, however. As he does so, black, negative energy envelopes his dagger, and continuing his gestures, the energy converges and compacts itself upon the dagger's pointed tip. Moving in to attack as if to stab Thorgrim, the man instead simply taps Thorgrim, who, expecting the feel of a knife in his side, is instead greeted with an intense pain as the condensed negative energy explodes into his body. His usual ability to withstand pain and shrug off physical damage proves ineffective against this magical assault.
Unable to see through the fog, the four archers are annoyed that they are no longer able to shoot at the easy target that was Gi'Chak. Two of them step back and ready their bows against anyone who decides to appear from the fog. The other two, one of which fends off a ferocious Unafe, drop their bows and pull out their knives. In retaliation to the chunk of his arm bitten off by Unafe, the guard, holding his dagger in his still-functioning arm, slashes at Unafe, leaving a gash in her cheek. The other guard, attempting to help his ally, cuts into Unafe's arm, leaving a nasty gash down her upper arm.
Meanwhile, the sole remaining spear-armed guard, upon being beset by a rogue behind him, the nearly-dead Ardeshir in front of him, and an armored dinosaur to his flank, decides enough is enough. Yelling as much, he attempts to withdraw from this bloodbath that he has gotten himself stuck in. However, he miscalculates his escape path, attempting to foolishly pass between Jack and Yakini. Jack, attempting to kill the man with a well-placed rapier to the gut, fails in his attempt, though is able to distract the man just enough. Yakini, flanking him, grabs the guard by the leg with her claws and sinks her teeth deep into his side. Then, with a sickening squelsh, she rips his leg off and tosses his body aside. His unconscious body lands with a thud at the feet of a horrified Sasbrek as his blood splatters the kobold.
Just feet away, a gurgle escapes Halib's mouth, indicating that his death is imminent should he not receive immediate medical assistance.
_______________________________
------------
Sasbrek inhales, ready to unleash his fiery powers upon the captain and his guard: but he has to quickly swallows his spell, since his bigger, stronger and much more violent companions dismember in a rather gruesome way the enemies. He turns his attention to what is going on in the fog. He peeks from behind the corner and sees the archers fooled by his illusion Foolish humans! Even dumber than Gi’chak! he laughs within himself. However, a doubt occurs to him “Maybe even those fools of my companions will fall for the trick… mmm…”
“Friends of the Most Honorable Halib!” he shouts at the top of his lungs “Fight the archers, but do not dare venture into the fog, for my magic is powerful as a Dragon's! Run around the fog if you value your life, as sure as the gold you've been paid with!” Sasbrek laughs within himself Let's hope those fools get it... Gi'chak probably won't...
__________________________
Nexander lowers his pistol a bit, not seeing any immediate threats. He analyzes the group around him, checking to see if Halib still lives. He sees the tub of lard still jiggling on the pavement slightly. Xander crouches low and hustles over. He mutters quietly, "Beached whale, quivering pale, close your wounds and make you hale," before slapping his now glowing palm onto the fat man's belly. A ripple spread across the fatty flesh, that ends with the huge gash across Halib's ribcage. The torn skin and muscles there burn bright orange for a moment at it knits itself partially back together.
__________________
Unafe howls as she feels the two daggers cut into her arm and cheek. She bites at the same guard again, aiming for the jugular but he raises his good hand in a panic and so her teeth mangle that instead. With his hand in her teeth, her claws rip into his side, spraying more blood onto her robes as he colapses onto the ground.
Meanwhile she calls to Yakini, ”Come toward my voice!”, knowing that it will take the spinosaurus in a collision course with the man with the magic “dagger”. When Yakini is right before him, Unafe yells “Attack!” and watches with satisfaction as she rips into the turncoat guard from behind.
______________
Unafe
HP 14/21 | AC 19 (T 12, FF 17) | Fort +5, Ref +2, Will +8; +2 vs Fear and Death Effects
Totem Transformation: 1/2 times, 3/10 rounds
Yakini
HP 24/24 | AC 19 (T 12, FF 17) | Fort +5, Ref +5, Will +2
Stepping beyond into the roiling swell of fog yet dominating the gateway, Thorgrim affords Yakini little in the way of acknowledgement, thanks, or anything in between. There is only the indomitable rage that grips the ulfen titan's being. The unmitigated wrath of Jörmungandr courses through the vikingr's veins, a poisonous anger that burns hotter than the sun looming above the desert's eastern horizon. His focus all but consumed by something so simple as recognizing friend from foe, made all the more difficult by the presence of goblins, kobolds, and faces yet to be familiarized, his pace quickens towards the archers that stand in disarray beyond the entry to Halib's estate.
Dómrbrandr is practically begging Thorgrim to afford it further employ, and his enraged state does little to dissuade his obliging. On the opposite side of Sasbrek's conjuring, the fog bends and swirls around the emerging ulfen's hulking frame, his blade already half way through another vicious swipe before his presence is completely betrayed. Dómrbrandr, still bearing the skewered form of the previously felled guard, comes down hard on the shoulder of the nearest archer, a geyser of blood rising to stain Mwangi, Osirian, and Ulfen alike. Thorgrim's gaze and intent has already departed, however, considering who next deserves his considerable ire.
__________________________________________________
>
>
Disappointed that their foes are falling so quickly, Aluriel steps backward before lashing out with her polearm.
Begin turn: M12 to N13
5' step: Move to N12 to O13
Standard Action: Attack guard at L11
End turn: N12 to O13
Gi'chak shakes of the daze that clouded his thoughts with some effort, wondering momentarily why he is sitting in a fountain, before the pain from his shoulder recalls him to his current situation. He leaps nimbly to his feet, looking around for the foe he had claimed, only to find him bleeding messily on the tiles of the villa.
The monkey goblin's face colors in anger, and he casts his gaze around at those still nearby, muttering something under his breath as he jumps off the fountain and scrambles towards the building where the spellcaster had emerged from, trying to see past the cloud he must of conjured to the sound of fighting near the archers.
Shifting his gun to his tail he scampers up the side of the guardpost and rolls over the top, before padding softly over to peer down at where he remembers the archers having been.
_________________________
Wincing in pain at his numerous injuries, Ardeshir nevertheless stands firm. Seeing that his foe has retreated back a few steps and looks to be ready to quafe a potion of some sort, Ardeshir quickly moves to intercept the man, ducking underneath Aluriel's massive frame as he does so. With a slash of his scimitar, Ardeshir is able to finish off the guard captain, nearly slashing him in the same way that the man had previously slashed Halib. With a clank of his own scimitar and a gurgle, but not a word, the man falls to the stone floor, unconscious at last.
Jack, meanwhile, finding his planned target unconscious on the ground, decides to follow the others and head into the fog. He crouches down and, in order to avoid making noise to avoid alerting the archers, slowly enters the fog, using his keen hearing to his advantage.
Though the guards seem to not notice his slender frame in the fog, Jack wishes he had not dropped his crossbow in the fountain; Now would make a perfect opportunity to strike at them from afar without their knowing.
_________________________
Caught in the rising fog from Sasbrek's illusion, Halib's guard shakes his head, able to clear the fog from his mind, discovering it is but an illusion. Now able to see clearly again, his eyes narrow at the hulking, raging form of Thorgrim dragging along one of the guards impaled upon his sword. He grins while twirling his dagger in his hand, and moving with what seems an unnatural grace, not to mention far quieter than his chain mail should allow, he approaches Thorgrim cautiously.
With a gesture of his hand, the man speaks words of power; Ones different than the previous spell he cast, however. As he does so, black, negative energy envelopes his dagger, and continuing his gestures, the energy converges and compacts itself upon the dagger's pointed tip. Moving in to attack as if to stab Thorgrim, the man instead simply taps Thorgrim, who, expecting the feel of a knife in his side, is instead greeted with an intense pain as the condensed negative energy explodes into his body. His usual ability to withstand pain and shrug off physical damage proves ineffective against this magical assault.
Unable to see through the fog, the four archers are annoyed that they are no longer able to shoot at the easy target that was Gi'Chak. Two of them step back and ready their bows against anyone who decides to appear from the fog. The other two, one of which fends off a ferocious Unafe, drop their bows and pull out their knives. In retaliation to the chunk of his arm bitten off by Unafe, the guard, holding his dagger in his still-functioning arm, slashes at Unafe, leaving a gash in her cheek. The other guard, attempting to help his ally, cuts into Unafe's arm, leaving a nasty gash down her upper arm.
Meanwhile, the sole remaining spear-armed guard, upon being beset by a rogue behind him, the nearly-dead Ardeshir in front of him, and an armored dinosaur to his flank, decides enough is enough. Yelling as much, he attempts to withdraw from this bloodbath that he has gotten himself stuck in. However, he miscalculates his escape path, attempting to foolishly pass between Jack and Yakini. Jack, attempting to kill the man with a well-placed rapier to the gut, fails in his attempt, though is able to distract the man just enough. Yakini, flanking him, grabs the guard by the leg with her claws and sinks her teeth deep into his side. Then, with a sickening squelsh, she rips his leg off and tosses his body aside. His unconscious body lands with a thud at the feet of a horrified Sasbrek as his blood splatters the kobold.
-----
Stepping beyond into the roiling swell of fog yet dominating the gateway, Thorgrim affords Yakini little in the way of acknowledgement, thanks, or anything in between. There is only the indomitable rage that grips the ulfen titan's being. The unmitigated wrath of Jörmungandr courses through the vikingr's veins, a poisonous anger that burns hotter than the sun looming above the desert's eastern horizon. His focus all but consumed by something so simple as recognizing friend from foe, made all the more difficult by the presence of goblins, kobolds, and faces yet to be familiarized, his pace quickens towards the archers that stand in disarray beyond the entry to Halib's estate.
Dómrbrandr is practically begging Thorgrim to afford it further employ, and his enraged state does little to dissuade his obliging. On the opposite side of Sasbrek's conjuring, the fog bends and swirls around the emerging ulfen's hulking frame, his blade already half way through another vicious swipe before his presence is completely betrayed. Dómrbrandr, still bearing the skewered form of the previously felled guard, comes down hard on the shoulder of the nearest archer, a geyser of blood rising to stain Mwangi, Osirian, and Ulfen alike. Thorgrim's gaze and intent has already departed, however, considering who next deserves his considerable ire.
-----
Unafe howls as she feels the two daggers cut into her arm and cheek. She bites at the same guard again, aiming for the jugular but he raises his good hand in a panic and so her teeth mangle that instead. With his hand in her teeth, one her claws rip into his side, spraying more blood onto her robes as he colapses onto the ground. With a final swipe of fury from her other claw, she maims the guard that Thorgrim had struck, felling him as well.
Meanwhile she calls to Yakini, ”Come toward my voice!”, knowing that it will take the spinosaurus in a collision course with the man with the magic “dagger”. When Yakini is right before him, Unafe yells “Attack!” and watches with satisfaction as she rips into the turncoat guard from behind.
-----
Wincing in pain at his numerous injuries, Ardeshir nevertheless stands firm. Seeing that his foe has retreated back a few steps and looks to be ready to quafe a potion of some sort, Ardeshir quickly moves to intercept the man, ducking underneath Aluriel's massive frame as he does so. With a slash of his scimitar, Ardeshir is able to finish off the guard captain, nearly slashing him in the same way that the man had previously slashed Halib. With a clank of his own scimitar and a gurgle, but not a word, the man falls to the stone floor, unconscious at last.
-----
Jack, meanwhile, finding his planned target unconscious on the ground, decides to follow the others and head into the fog. He crouches down and, in order to avoid making noise to avoid alerting the archers, slowly enters the fog, using his keen hearing to his advantage.
Though the guards seem to not notice his slender frame in the fog, Jack wishes he had not dropped his crossbow in the fountain; Now would make a perfect opportunity to strike at them from afar without their knowing.
-----
Sasbrek inhales, ready to unleash his fiery powers upon the captain and his guard: but he has to quickly swallows his spell, since his bigger, stronger and much more violent companions dismember in a rather gruesome way the enemies. He turns his attention to what is going on in the fog. He peeks from behind the corner and sees the archers fooled by his illusion Foolish humans! Even dumber than Gi’chak! he laughs within himself. However, a doubt occurs to him. Maybe even those fools of my companions will fall for the trick… mmm…
“Friends of the Most Honorable Halib!” he shouts at the top of his lungs “Fight the archers, but do not dare venture into the fog, for my magic is powerful as a Dragon's! Run around the fog if you value your life, as sure as the gold you've been paid with!” Sasbrek laughs within himself. Let's hope those fools get it... Gi'chak probably won't...
-----
Nexander lowers his pistol a bit, not seeing any immediate threats. He analyzes the group around him, checking to see if Halib still lives. He sees the tub of lard still jiggling on the pavement slightly. Xander crouches low and hustles over. He mutters quietly, "Beached whale, quivering pale, close your wounds and make you hale," before slapping his now glowing palm onto the fat man's belly. A ripple spread across the fatty flesh, that ends with the huge gash across Halib's ribcage. The torn skin and muscles there burn bright orange for a moment at it knits itself partially back together.
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Gi'chak shakes of the daze that clouded his thoughts with some effort, wondering momentarily why he is sitting in a fountain, before the pain from his shoulder recalls him to his current situation. He leaps nimbly to his feet, looking around for the foe he had claimed, only to find him bleeding messily on the tiles of the villa.
The monkey goblin's face colors in anger, and he casts his gaze around at those still nearby, muttering something under his breath as he jumps off the fountain and scrambles towards the building where the spellcaster had emerged from, trying to see past the cloud he must of conjured to the sound of fighting near the archers.
Shifting his gun to his tail he scampers up the side of the guardpost and rolls over the top, before padding softly over to peer down at where he remembers the archers having been.
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Disappointed that their foes are falling so quickly, Aluriel, her polearm in hand, walks over the battlefield, stepping over the comparitively small bodies of the fallen that lie dying beneath her, and steps into the fog towards the remaining foes.
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With all of their enemies converging on them through the fog, the remaining two archers, having been away from the bloodfest that took place in front of them, turn their heads to look at each other, before both simultaneously shaking their heads in a gesture of Nope!. Speaking in an accent clearly not native, one of them yells "Screw this, we're not getting paid enough! I'm outta here!" Dropping their bows, they turn tail and flee as fast as their feet are able to take them, each taking a different direction, though both heading to town. Being as lightly armored as they are, only the quick could catch them, should they try - that, or a well placed long-range shot might be able to take one of them out.
Meanwhile, approaching from around the back of the villa from the garden, Rhasadal finally arrives. Behind her is a massive form of a Treant native to the Mwangi Expanse. The plant is as tall as Aluriel and moves with a moping gait, its massive arm-like branches drapped in vines and leaves. However, despite its massive physique, it still pales in comparison to treants of legend - it stands a mere nine feet tall compared to a standard treant's thirty feet.
Rhasadal, seeing the carnage in front of her, looks almost disappointed. "Am I too late?"
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Nexander looks around the courtyard, the thing immediately apparent to him is how wounded the Kelish swordsman is next to him. He snaps Betty open and reloads her before his magically abundant ammunition fades. Then he moves over to Ardeshir saying, "Hold still big guy." Nexander places his hands over the warrior's slashed open torso and says, "Scimitar slashes, nasty gashes; shining blade was fast and lithe. Please let this noble man survive." His rhyme finished another burst of burning orange light shoots from his palms into Ardeshir's wounds. Once the spell runs its course, Xander sees the wounds are barely healed over. "Damn son, they stuck you good." He tugs his beard in consideration for a few moments before chanting, "First time weren't good enough, let these gods damned cuts get stuffed!" Another burst of healing energy saturates the desert warrior's wounds and he looks much better for it.
Xander steps back to examine his work. "It's not perfect, but I'm out of juice for the day." He turns, and calls over to the young Mwangi shamaness. "'Nafe, you okay? I saw you get poked."
Gi'chak scowls after the cowardly archer, taking aim at their retreating forms, before allowing his pistol to drop. Ammo was too expensive now it seemed to go wasting it on cowards. He jumps down from the guard post, peering inside where the spellcaster had come from to make sure there was nothing else lurking in wait. Stowing his pistol he gives the duplicitous guard a kick before wandering over to the guard captain, staring down at him. Hands dip into pockets and pouches, bringing out some strange coins, which get a good staring. More platinum... he'd never seen so much in his life as he had today... He returns them to the pouch and pockets it, examining the vial, giving it a sniff before stowing that away, and strips anything else of worth off the man, finishing by examining the sword. It would certainly fetch a pretty penny... Only when he has finished with the captain's body does he turn his attention to the arrow in his shoulder. He tears a clean strip of cloth off of the man's robes and grits his teeth as he pulls the arrow head free, pressing the wad of cloth in it's place.
Sasbrek comes near one of the dying soldiers, and bloodies one of his claws on an open wound Fight like a kobold, survive. Grow. The days of the Dragon will come! he says to himself, looking at the blood dripping from his fingers.
THAT one fights like a monkey, as I wagered think now looking at Gi’chak He probably doesn’t even have the good sense of understanding that without my fog he would be a pincushion now. Bah! Let him be a fool.
Seeing that Halib is still breathing, albeit with great strain, he looks at the tall and respectable members of his group – Unafe, Aluriel and Nexander first and foremost “What now? Is our contract not worth money now that the fat man has been attacked? Why hasn’t…?” a thought dawns on him “The professor! This guard” he points at the fake Halib’s guard “was a traitor. What if others like him hit the professor! He is not here!” Sasbrek quickly runs towards the room in which they last saw the Professor. He keeps the words of his vanishing spell ready on his lips – you never know what you’ll encounter!
Aluriel stops at the edge of the fog, watching the two remaining "guards" run off toward the city.
No sense chasing them, the whole city is filled with more like them and no doubt several thousand are born daily. No doubt wanted to sell us into slavery or rape the goblin. Well, they'll be back, or not.
Turning back to the courtyard, the giant redhead looks for targets, either the city "guards" or Halib's "guards." She considers all of them hostiles and will lash out at any of them coming near her or the fat merchant.
"I'm getting the fat man up so we can find out what in the Nine Hells is going on here."
Kneeling beside the Osiriani merchant, she again chants in Celestial as glowing runes encircle her right hand. Touching his chest, Halib's wounds once again knit partially back together.
Nexander looks at the coin in the little Kobold's hand and runs over events in his head. "Someone who paid with mask-marked platinum hired Halib's guard and a bunch of thugs dressed as guards to keep us from leaving. Duh."
Upon entering the guardhouse, Gi'chak sees a gruesome scene; Five bodies lay strewn about the room. Four of them, unarmored and off-duty guards of Halib's villa, are laying in bed, their throats slit; The fifth, one of the guards that was on duty, lays on the ground, having been unceremoniously dumped there. A knife wound is visible in the small of his back. On the floor next to him lays an unrolled, blank scroll with a black strip on the outer rim. The remainder of the guardhouse looks unmolested - though there are four drinking cups and a partially filled jug of water on a small table in the room. An odd smell wafts from the pitcher - a smell not unlike nutmeg.
Nexander's suspicions are confirmed when, examining the 'guards', he notices that their facial makeup is mixing with their blood. Each of the guards are in fact, not even Osirani - each of them are of northern ancestry, mostly Chelish. The Guard Captain, meanwhile, is an actual native - a badge found in his possession shows that he is actually one of Eto's captains - that, or he had ripped one off and stolen his gear. Halib's traitorous guard, however, is found to be something even more suspicious. The seemingly beefy, muscular Kelish man is actually a scrawny Varisian man - when he gurgles his last breath, the illusion disguising him fades - the makeup beneath his magical disguise was partially washed off thanks to Yakini's saliva. He is, in fact, not even wearing armor.
Meanwhile, as Sasbrek heads towards the door, he is greeted by Dr. Pinkerton, followed by his associates, who arrive fully geared up and ready to go - Pinkerton stands at the doorway, grimacing at the carnage dispalyed before him. Spotting Halib, who now struggles to get up off the ground after Aluriel's healing, his eyes narrow. "Everyone alright? What happened to Halib? What in the Hells happened?"
At the risk of sounding like a broken magic mouth spell, Nexander repeats himself for the good doctor's benefit. "Someone who paid in mask-marked platinum coins hired these Avistanis to pose as Halib's guard and a group of watchmen. They were to keep us from leaving. They attacked Halib, and we killed them. A couple got away."
"Also killed fat-man's real guards." Gi'chak adds to Nexander's summary of the situation. "Suspicious they have special pictured coins like yours." he adds, eyeing the professor warily, suddenly wondering what they'd gotten themselves into. He flicks one of the coins to the professor. "You know that?"
Aluriel helps Halib rise before cancelling her spell and resuming her normal size. Her face bears a sour expression with the edges of her lips drawn down in disappointment.
Unafe sees the remaining two assailants run off, thinking momentarily about running after them but reconsidering quickly. Instead she wills her heart rate back from saurian to human levels. As she does so she blinks and her eyes return from yellow slits to her normal deep brown, and her fangs and claws recede back to human proportions. Great Saurians, thank you for lending your strength and spirit.
She walks back over to the others, glancing at the carnage and shaking her head. The violence and duplicity in this "civilized" world...
She's glad to see Xander and Aluriel tending to Halib and Ardeshir. When Xander asks about her cuts, she grimaces slightly. ”My arm hurts, and my cheek feels like a mess. Nothing life threatening but I’m likely best off getting a bit of magical healing, since we don't know if there's more in store for us today at this point. I didn’t memorize any healing magic this morning.” Turning to Aluriel and Xander, ”Are either of you able to cast more, or shall I try out the wand?”
Turning to the professor, "Do you know who was behind this?"
As the sting of The World Serpent's venom relinquishes the vice it holds on Thorgrim's pulsing veins, he tiredly finds where the sheath to his blade had landed before replacing it and his sword on his broad back. His heaving breaths and profuse sweating cause his flaxen hair to mat to his face while his mustache hairs flare out to dangle with each exasperated exhale. His strides carry him eventually to the growing congregation around Halib and the recently slain. No less disgusted by the very existence of the fat man, he is nevertheless relieved the pudgy fellow survives.
""
Thorgrim's heavy brows seize Pinkerton as he emerges with inquisitive exclamations. "" The Ulfen allows the last accusation to hang pronounced in the courtyard as he leans over the fountain. He washes his face in the refreshing waters and consumes several mouthfuls before washing clean the pair of wounds the spearmen had managed to score. "" This Professor played his hand close to his chest. Perhaps prudent for his own purposes, but Thorgrim disagrees with the risk it visits on his recent hires—himself included. He does not mind putting down men who draw steel first, but he far prefers knowing who intends to draw said steel in the first place.
Pinkerton catches the tossed coin deftly, then holds it up and examines it. He sighs with recognizition, before flipping the coin back to Gi'chak. "I do realize that indeed, Gi'chak. These coins bear the symbol of a northerly kingdom near my own homeland of Ustalav.. Razmiran. They have long since plagued both my order and my religion, attempting to spread their own religion through brute force, deceit, and bribery." Pinkerton snorts, then shakes his head, as if to scatter foul thoughts. "I've clashed with them in the past -" At this, Rhasadal, who had been poking the dead bodies, examining them, looks up at Pinkerton, though remains silent. A momentary flash of sadness can be seen on her otherwise blank face, before disappearing as fast as it appeared. " - though I had gone through many more precautions than normal this time around. The fact that they discovered my location nevertheless troubles me."
Halib, meanwhile, sputters as he is helped up, giving a nod of thanks. He looks around in dismay at his sullied courtyard, before remembering the scroll that he was reading when struck. Reaching down to pick it up - a feat in itself, not without difficulty - he grasps it and rolls it up. "Henric! You need to see this. I believe it is worse than you fear." He waddles over to Pinkerton, wheezing as he does so, and hands him the scroll, his face grave and troubled. As Pinkerton takes it, Halib looks back at the group, worried about what comes next.
With a facial expression similar to Halib's earlier, Pinkerton's face sours more and more the further he reads. By the time he finishes, he is both troubled and angry. Looking up at the group, his tone serious, he says, "We need to get going. I'll explain on the way. Grab your gear, get your animals, and take anything you want off these bastards. We have to leave before those two who fled are able to let others know of our location. Halib.."
Snorting, Halib laughs. "Don't worry about me! This mockery of justice won't be left unanswered - they had their shot at a sneak attack. And, " he motions towards the group, "Thanks to these fine people you've hired, they've failed. I'll do what I can to clear their names - free of charge, of course. I owe them that much for saving my life."
Pinkerton nods, then motions to the group. "I promise, I'll explain everything on the way - we need to get going."
Nexander casts detect magic and looks over all the loot, especially the fake daggers that the fake Halib's guard was carrying.