With a scream of pain, Liette reels from the blast of sand and crackling lightning. Eyes wrenched shut she slouches back against Sigmund, hands in white-knuckle grip around her revolvers as they spark and sputter with static electricity. "You sons of " Her scream is a hoarse, croaked one, but as she pushes off of Sigmund Liette goes from stumbling to sprinting. The power of Viorel's hastening spell makes the gunslinger move at blinding speeds, leaving a whirling cloud of sand behind as the explodes out of the cloud in a flurry of movement.
One boot grinds into the sand as Liette comes to a stop, rounding a corner in a long slide. She crouches down, one foot ploughing up desert sand until she finally arrests her movement, only to break into another sprint, running straight for Crissor as he fires up at the drake. "Oh no you don't!" Shouting at the fleeing drake, Liette raises Justice in one hand and closes one eye, briefly getting the beast in her iron-sights before squeezing the trigger and letting loose another loud gunshot.
The drake bobs in mid-flight, blood spraying up from where the round clipped its wing. If Liette has her way, none of the drakes will make it out of this desert alive.
Not after what they did to Nathaniel.
_______
Trusting that Liette knows where she's going, Sigmund does his best to keep up. He moves beside her, once again trying to shield her from the drake.
"We will win, Liette. We must."
Viorel runs next to Crissor in pursuit of the Drake. After the practiced arcane gestures and sounds are finished two rays of fire shoot forward the other one missing while the other hitting home burning the scales.
No, you won't escape us. Not after killing Sacha!
Kenan releases in fast sequence several arrows, which hunt after the fleeing drake.
Barek launches off three more arrows, two of which find purchase in the drake's thick flesh.
Crissor tries to put a few arrows in the drake's backside as it screeches past. Two of them join Kenan's arrows in the retreating dragon's back.
With a scream of pain, Liette reels from the blast of sand and crackling lightning. Eyes wrenched shut she slouches back against Sigmund, hands in white-knuckle grip around her revolvers as they spark and sputter with static electricity. "You sons of பெண் நாய்!" Her scream is a hoarse, croaked one, but as she pushes off of Sigmund Liette goes from stumbling to sprinting. The power of Viorel's hastening spell makes the gunslinger move at blinding speeds, leaving a whirling cloud of sand behind as the explodes out of the cloud in a flurry of movement.
One boot grinds into the sand as Liette comes to a stop, rounding a corner in a long slide. She crouches down, one foot ploughing up desert sand until she finally arrests her movement, only to break into another sprint, running straight for Crissor as he fires up at the drake. "Oh no you don't!" Shouting at the fleeing drake, Liette raises Justice in one hand and closes one eye, briefly getting the beast in her iron-sights before squeezing the trigger and letting loose another loud gunshot. The drake bobs in mid-flight, blood spraying up from where the round clipped its wing. If Liette has her way, none of the drakes will make it out of this desert alive. Not after what they did to Nathaniel.
Trusting that Liette knows where she's going, Sigmund does his best to keep up. He moves beside her, once again trying to shield her from the drake. "We will win, Liette. We must."
Viorel runs next to Crissor in pursuit of the Drake. After the practiced arcane gestures and sounds are finished two rays of fire shoot forward. One of the rays hits the drake, burning a glowing bloody furrow of flesh along its underside.
Abigail lifts off from the floor, sand bursting around her feet as she springs up. She swings her mace once to get a sense of the shift in balance and readjusts her stance. She clenches her jaw and readies to intercept the drake next time he flies through. Nathaniel, wherever you are, I hope you're watching!
"No, you won't escape us. Not after killing Sacha!"Kenan releases several arrows in fast succession, which hunt after the fleeing drake. Thunk....thunk is distanly heard as two of the missiles sink into the drake's already projectile riddled, mangled hindquarters. The dragon falls out of the air, slamming into one of the boulders face fist, crushing its skull and breaking its own neck with a thunderous crack.
It is over, the Crusaders won!
Exhaling an exhausted, shuddering groan at the sight of the drake's collapse, Liette follows suit and falls onto her knees in the sand, sparks of electricity arcing off of her still from the creature's terrible attack. He revolvers fall into the sand with a pair of soft thunks and her chalk white hair hangs in front of her eyes. Fingers curling into the dirt, Liette breathes out a strangled noise somewhere between a sob and a growl, then looks up with reddened, bleary eyes towards where Sacha's body lays mangled atop the boulders.
After averting her eyes to the ground, Liette's fingers curl up into fists and she begins slamming her hands into the sand. The young woman hunches forward and screams until her voice cracks and the momentary fit of rage comes to a silent, trembling end. The journey was beginning to take its toll on her.
Crissor watches as his two friends pour their hearts out for Sacha. His heart pings with sympathy and his conscious tells him to do something, but he just can't find the words at the moment. Especially watching Abigail shove and sob over Sacha. He wipes a tear off his fuzzy cheek, doing the best to hide his own waterworks.
Viorel releases his hand from the wound reaching for his wand starting the healing process the bleeding slowly starting to stop. He looks across the battlefield letting out a deep sigh. The wound claims another one. The mage walks slowly behind Abigail just standing there for now. He figured right now there were no words that could ease the pain. We need to get back, people can't take this forever. I am starting to numb to the pain myself. He looks down at the lifeless body a sad expression showing trough the stoicism.
Sigmund carefully gathers up the pistols and sits on the ground a short distance away from the distraught women. He takes out his prized hankerchief, so carefully carried through the desolate wasteland, and uses it to clean the powder residue and gritty dirt from the barrels and chambers. The act of cleaning the weapons calms him, and he beckons the others to join him. With the stinging dust diminished, he finds his voice.
"This day has been long and difficuly, my friends. We are at the brink of destruction. The precepice of death looms before us, and the void beneath has already swallowed many of those we hold dearest. Let us never forget the sacrifices they made so that we might live. Let us honor and cherish their gift by surviving!"
"All day, I have been struggling to find a way to let us reach Kenabres quickly. I have failed. Now, with the sickness among us, I fear we have no choice but to rest and weather the night. I have something to aid us in that, a spell to strengthen our rest. The night will pass quickly for those under it, as your body rests for what feels like days. After a few hours, I will waken and tend to those ailing as I am, in the hopes of curing the contamination."
"Can anyone provide a ward or shelter to protect us while we sleep, for the spell is broken for those who wake during the night?"
Sigmund's presence calms Liette some, though her eyes still retain their distant quality. She seems at times like a shell with nothing to fill her, looking unblinking and vacantly at the dirt. Other times her eyes move and there's a clear expression of sadness there, unable to be hidden. It's unclear if she heard everything Sigmund said, unclear if she is fully aware of her surroundings, unclear if she's even breathing.
That all changes when an enormous jet-black beast the size of a horse stalks into Liette's line of sight around the boulders. Her whole body goes stiff, back tenses, hands twitch, and in one panicked start the gunslinger scrambles backwards with eyes wide and visible fear painted on her face. Then, however, the creature goes about lapping gently at Abigail's face with its enormous tongue. Liette blinks, gapes, stammers out a few abortive words and stares blankly at the scene.
She knows there's no call for alarm, but before Sacha's blood has even cooled Abigail has been bestowed another great creature through some divine contrivance. Were there ever at least some sign the gods had not abandoned this group, that was it.
Crissor watches in amazement and lowers his head, quietly giving a prayer to Erastil in thanks for giving Abigail a new ally to ease her pain.
Sigmund looks up in alarm at the towering beast, and is stunned when Abigail tames it before he can even call out an alarm. The spectacle is momentous, but at the moment, he's just grateful that the creature isn't hostile. He gets out his healer's kit and makes his way around the group, noting who amongst them is infected.
"Let's camp between these boulders. Well need someone to watch for the first two hours, the spell will work for them once they go to sleep. I'll wake after that and tend to the sick. Those who only need a little rest can wake and help guard. Who knows what dangers tomorrow may bring, but we desperately need rest now."
<< // // // >>
"I'll take watch" Liette whispers something into the dirt. Then, sucking back a hiccuped sob, the swallows noisily and stands up, dusting herself off. "I'll take watch," the paladin reiterates, tugging off her gloves so that she can dry her eyes with her hands. "I don't need much rest t'shoot someone," though she does need her guns, and a look is offered to Sigmund with both apology and thanks.
"Stick close though, 'cause if we get ambushed I ain't gonna wanna be out on m'own." Breathing deeply and then exhaling a weary sigh, Liette tries to regain her composure in the face of considerable hardships.
_____
"I don't need long to rest on account of my ring. For now I can get 3 ward alarms, but after that I am relying on the most basic of spells." With that the mage cast his spells trying to cover the most dangerous spots and shares the passwords with others. "If something comes here, step into one of them without saying the password and it should wake everyone up."
Squinting, Liette holsters her revolvers after getting them from Sigmund and looks askance at Viorel. "Just in case of," she wrinkles her nose, "y'know, nature, what's the password?"
Crissor looks over at Liette. "If um you don't want to be out alone, would you mind if I took the shift with you?" he askes with a crooked smile. "Extra set of eyes and everything you know?"
Breathing in deeply, Liette exhales a resigned and calming sigh. She nods, once, and then looks up to Crissor and shoots an askance glance at Viorel before looking back to the gnoll. "If you'd like," she admits in a small voice, still shaken up from the events of the last few days, but doing her best to work through it.
Everyone beds down, and Sigmund casts his spell.
As the mage finally rises he seems better, not by much but he seems to have weathered the storm. "I do not remember when was the last time I have slept that peacefully. Certainly it was not out here." Viorel notes then moving to get his belonging together. "We should get out of here and preferably fast."
Start:
2h:
4h:
6h:
8h:
Taking CSW from Abigail -> HP 37/71
+1 Constitution
+1 Constitution
Natural Healing:
4*10=40
-> HP 71/71
I'm relatively good in walking. If we can speed up us all, we could flee.
"I am rested, but not cured; the cursed sickness has stolen my breath. It would be a blessing to ride, Abigail."
While it was amazing that a "night's" rest was able to pass without incident, Liette was not about to look that particular gift horse in the mouth. "Jus' what I wanted t'do after pullin' guard duty, run across the desert." Grimacing, Liette ensured that her revolvers were holstered and offers an askance look to Viorel.
"If you've got any sparkly magic horses, that'd be great." Though judging from Liette's smirking tone, she doesn't seem to think it's a possibility. With a resigned sigh, the gunslinger walks up to the side of Abigail and her new blessing of Erastil, ready to depart.
1st:Endure Elements x2, Create Water
2nd: Protection from Evil (Communal) x2
3rd: Prayer
Crissor stretches and takes stock of the day after his prayers and is glad to see Liette is doing a bit better. He then turns his attentions to Sigmund. "Let me see if I can do something about that friend."
Crissor focuses inward on his healing abilities and whispers a prayer to Erastil, drawing on the need to heal Sigmund of his disease, the gnoll's hands start to glow and he reaches out and puts both palms on Sigmund's chest.
<< // // // >>
Crissor's divine power heals Sigmund of his disease before the group sets off across the sands. The sun is setting as they begin their trek.
They press on across the sand, waiting for the smell and sound of teleporting demons at any second. The sands continue for about an hour before a faint smudge of green-black appears on the yellow-white horizon of sand before them. The desert seems to glow in the faint light of the moon. Walking for another hour or so, they come to the edge of the swamp. It must be HUGE to stretch this far north and east from where they last encountered the murkey fetid waters. The temperature has been rapidly dropping over the last hour, but it's still hot. Another couple of hours and it'll be freezing out here.
<< // // // >>
He glances at the woman and replies. "Not a spell I posses, and for that matter right now my arcane powers at the level of an apprentice. I have few tricks left but no spells apart from cantrips." It is rather evident that the fact of the matter is not something he finds pleasing.
Viorel takes his map and compass out then proceeds to scratch his jaw for a moment. "I say let's head trough, everywhere here is dangerous and at least our 'friends' in the sky won't be seeing us. Of coarse what I want to do is to burn the whole damn thing to the ground, but that is not really feasible or smart. If someone knows thing or two about swamps it would be nice if there is some signs that shows transition so we can get trough as fast as possible. If we are lucky the swamp will cover our tracks too or at least make them harder to follow."
"Agreed. We went around the swamp the last time, and look where that got us. At least the crap we meet there will be different," Barek growls.
"Woah," Liette huffs out as she jogs up alongside Barek and Viorel. "Woah, woah, did you two get heatstroke while you were sleeping?" A look is shot between the demon-blooded Kellid and the sorcerer. "The last time we went into those swamps I'm pretty sure we got attacked by fleshless horsemen who vomited acid and nearly killed us all."
Hands gesturing wildly as she speaks, Liette is more animated than she was yesterday, and it appears that the distraction of tactical considerations has taken her mind off the deaths that have come before. "Vi, hold that thought." Jogging further ahead towards where Abigail rides with Sigmund, the gunslinger looks up to the old priestess of Erastil.
"Abigail, can you summon animals?" Liette's white brows furrow, "Like, a hawk or something? I dunno exactly how druidic your magic is, but if we could somehow scout ahead a little bit that'd be great. 'Cause right now I'm not looking forward to going back in that marsh. Sigmund just got better..."
Crestfallen, Liette swipes one gloved hand through her hair and exhales a weary sigh. Motioning with her other hand towards the swamp, the gunslinger's halfway-lidded eyes regard the marshy bog perimeter listlessly.
"Sally forth," Liette mutters defeatedly, waving in the direction of the swamp.
"Just think of getting a good bath at the keep and food."
Crissor jokes and stares at the swamp, "Might as well plow on through."