Illyria grits her teeth. "I knwow that." She raises her sword to try and parry the ghost's attack. "But it's still annoying."
Bergur is too occupied trying to will some feeling back into his fingers to care about the exchange. He's never been this frightened in his life. Not even during the Battle, at least the parts he remembers. He knows it's not natural, that the ghost is causing this fear somehow, but the knowledge doesn't keep his hands from shaking.
Illyria is holding her own for now, but for how long?
"I'm sorry," he whispers, as yet another shot refuses to go where he's aiming it. He takes some grim comfort in the fact that at least this time the arrow traveled farther than a foot in front of him.
Illyria's sword slices through the Dwarf, and as it exits it trails some of the phantom's essence, like inky shadow wrapped around the blade. Morwen and Bergur both miss with their attacks. In response, the Dwarf's axe bites into Illyria, filling her with a chill that leeches into her soul.
HIT POINTS
B 15/15, HD 2/2
H 13/13, HD 2/2
I 20/25, HD 2/2
M 19/21, HD 2/2
O 26/26, HD 1/2
INSPIRATION
B o
H 3
I 2
M 1
O 1
SHADOW (P)
B 1(0)
H 1(0)
I 6(0)
M 3(0)
O 3(0)
CONDITIONS
B
H
I
M
O Exhaustion 1
Dwarf -11
Seeing Illyria injured, the fear suddenly snaps as Bergur's attention fully focuses on the ghost. No longer with an edge of terror, but with anger. "Men, race of Men, whatever your vengeance desires it does not matter. You will not be claiming her today."
Illyria hisses with pain as the axe strikes, drawing blood and sinding a chill through her veins. Seeing Bergur's arrow strike gives her the opening she needs as she swings again with both hands on her sword.
"Upon that, we agree." Morwen said as she took let loose another arrow. Though she did wonder if it was doing any good.
This time, everyone manages to land a hit on the Dwarf, your weapons passing through its shadowy form and tearing away some of its essence. The ghostly creature gives a mocking laugh as you argue semantics. "Your words hurt me not, and see! Nor do your blades."
Its glowing eyes glare at each of you in turn, with the promise of death.
HIT POINTS
B 15/15, HD 2/2
H 13/13, HD 2/2
I 20/25, HD 2/2
M 19/21, HD 2/2
O 26/26, HD 1/2
INSPIRATION
B o
H 3
I 2
M 1
O 1
SHADOW (P)
B 1(0)
H 1(0)
I 6(0)
M 3(0)
O 3(0)
CONDITIONS
B
H
I
M
O Exhaustion 1
Dwarf -25
Almost as soon as the clarity hits, it's washed away in another wave of terror. Bergur bites down hard on his lip, drawing blood, and tries hard not to think. His body knows what it's doing. If he lets muscle memory take over, he can fight through the fear.
'Man that thing is creepy' Morwen thought as she got another arrow out.
Illyria stares back into the thing's glowing eyes, clearly not afraied. "You want death? I bring death." She slashes at it again with her sword. She gives a quick glance back at Morwen and Bergur, trying to encourage them. "We can end this thing. Keep going."
Another round of the group's attacks continue to shred the Dwarf's spectral form, although it concentrates for a moment and some of the tears start to repair themselves slightly. It hisses wordlessly at you and swings its axe into Illyria, the unearthly chill again seeping into her soul.
HIT POINTS
B 15/15, HD 2/2
H 13/13, HD 2/2
I 15/25, HD 2/2
M 19/21, HD 2/2
O 26/26, HD 1/2
INSPIRATION
B o
H 3
I 1
M 1
O 1
SHADOW (P)
B 1(0)
H 1(0)
I 6(0)
M 3(0)
O 3(0)
CONDITIONS
B
H
I
M
O Exhaustion 1
Dwarf -32
Letting's Illyria's encouragement wash over him, Bergur nods sharply. "You're correct. We will not be the ones dying today."
His hands are steadier now, and another arrow passes straight through the ghostly figure.
Illyria gives a sharp gasp of pain as the creature's unholy weapon strikes her again, but she foucuses her attention and keeps swinging her sword. They can bring this thing down, she's sure of it.
"Then we need to bring it down!" Morwen stated in response to Bergur's words as she grabbed another arrow and let it fly.
The group's attacks all hit, tearing away at the Dwarf's shadowy form even further, although it again manages to repair slightly. Its axe once more strikes Illyria, although with much less force than previously.
HIT POINTS
B 15/15, HD 2/2
H 13/13, HD 2/2
I 13/25, HD 2/2
M 19/21, HD 2/2
O 26/26, HD 1/2
INSPIRATION
B o
H 3
I 1
M 1
O 1
SHADOW (P)
B 1(0)
H 1(0)
I 6(0)
M 3(0)
O 3(0)
CONDITIONS
B
H
I
M
O Exhaustion 1
Dwarf -44
"Keep it up!" Morwen said before grabbing another arrow.
Illyria continues to throw herself into the attack, aware that she doesn't have much more to give. She feels the warmth of her blood leaking from several wounds, the hilt of her sword is sticky with it but she grips with both hands and strikes as hard as she can.
Morwen's arrow strikes the shade before Illyria's sword plunges deep into the thing's formless body, severing for good its connection to this world. The Dwarf gives a howl of anguish, giving voice not merely to the rage that has kept it here beyond its time but to the grief that it was never able to express for all those years. It evaporates, but not before shattering Illyria's sword into pieces.
Illyria herself turns white and falls to the ground. Only the faintest pulse at her neck indicates she is still alive: her breathing is too shallow to be seen.
Morwen dropped her bow when she saw Illyria begin to stagger, and ran up to her catching the Rider of Rohan before she met the cold harsh ground.
"This isn't good..." Morwen muttered. "Bergur! Can you lay out a bedroll please." Morwen called before she tried to carry Illyria to a place she could rest.