Toretan curses at the beast astride his back, and tries to fend it off from himself and the baby while simultaneously stomping on the beast prone in front of him.
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Seeing the creature grab for the babe, Toretan tries to take advantage of it's distraction with a knee strike to it's torso.
Toretan sucks in breath quickly as the claws rip the flesh at his shoulder, but he steels his resolve and faces the freakish enemies. He moves 5' to the side, trying to get both enemies within an area in front of him (10' sq) and making a shushing sound to the still-crying babe. A deep, long breath in and Toretan lets his subconscious mind connect strongly to the stone beneath his feet, reveling in the solid and timeless feel of the cool rock. Shifting his weight onto one leg suddenly, he lifts the other leg high, almost perfectly straight above his head with muscles straining at the effort, and brings his foot down with tremendous force. The once smooth stone responds instantly, an area of 10' becoming a jumble of broken and treacherous rock around him. Treacherous Earth: Once per day, an Oread with this racial trait can will the earth to rumble and shift, transforming a 10-foot-radius patch of earth, unworked stone, or sand into an area of difficult terrain, centered on an area the oread touches. This lasts for a number of minutes equal to the oread's level (**One Minute**), after which the ground returns to normal.
He tucks the wailing infant under his left arm, and turns his body to shield the babe as much as possible. He considers the three ugly things before him and the room around him, wondering at his options.
He'll try to down the injured one, hoping to better his odds of surviving this idiotic idea of his to chase the monsters into their hole. He moves towards the monster , and away from the other two, aiming to avoid being flanked by the monsters while lining up for a powerful strike. He maintains his defensive posture since he's still in a rough spot.
The would-be-monk's smiles in satisfaction as his blow lands and the monster chokes, but the smile disappears when his effort is so successful the baby is dropped to the floor. He reaches his free hand down to catch the falling, screaming bundle.
Toretan doesn't waste words, but his lips curl as he sneers contemptuously at the things cowardice. He lifts his chin and taps his own throat, daring the creature to face him. Inwardly he's hoping to taunt the vile monster, if such a thing is possible. Then he charges, aiming outstretched and stiffened fingers for the things throat.
Stepping forward a few steps he grits his teeth and rushes into the unknown, eyes and ear straining for the slightest sound or sign.
Toretan looks up, and spotting the beast, gives a challenging shout, doubting the thing will understand, but hoping to provoke it none the less. " Face a man if you dare!" even as he starts up the cliff himself, trying to move with as much speed as he dares. He struggles at first and then makes some headway, hoping against hope he can catch thing vile thing before it's too late.
The relief at feeling the neck of the pale thing snap dissipates instantly as he feels the eyes of the scarred being by the house. The chill the dread-looking monster leaves in his spine stays with him even as he sprints with all speed after the baby. He can only spare a glance at his prone father and pray to whatever god may be listening to keep him safe, the mothers cries spurring him to greater speed. He listens and looks frantically for any sign of the baby-snatchers passage even as trees, paths, and bushes pass his eyes in a blur.
Toretan is loathe to let the beast with the child get away, lest his father's efforts be in vain, but neither can he forsake Father to this beast. He charges the creature attacking Arlo, running as quickly as he can, waiting for the moment the creature notices his approach. He leaps, not high and tries to loop his leading arm over the creatures neck. Rolling now over the things back, he shift his weight up and away, pulling his arm with all the strength he can, hoping his momentum and power is enough to yank the monster of it's feet and send it sailing in front of him. 'If I can pull this off,' he thinks to himself, 'then this monster will chase me and leave my father be, and I can follow after the baby snatcher ahead.'
Toretan was busy sipping stew as his father displayed his usual curiosity about his outings, and so was unable to answer. He does respond readily enough to the latter part of his fathers question, heaving a mock sigh, "You know I live for toil Father. It's good to be home." Toretan quietly finishes his stew in the dim light, and rinses his bowl and spoon and settles onto his stuffed mattress on the floor, enjoying -as always- the closeness to the land. He lies in the darkness for a long time, staring at the ceiling and thinking thoughts of vista's, icy streams, and brisk mountain air. The mantras his mother taught to him, running through his mind as well, the sound of fist, elbow, foot and knee striking tree and rock. Repetitive and soothing. His mothers face smiling at his increasing strength. He holds that image in his mind, and places the face of his father's happy face next to that of his mother. He just holds them there awhile, studying their differences and their similarities, comparing his own self-image beneath theirs. With this tumult of thoughts swirling in his brain, the heavy Oread slowly drifts off to sleep.
Toretan sits and sips carefully at the hot soup, keeping his face neutral, "Hmmm, well Father, I've eaten many worse things." He grins out the side of his mouth, tempering the harsh critic with some humor. And layering on still more, "Did you get the recipe from Old Lita then?" He shifts from side to side, settling his large frame into his customary chair equa-distant between the fire warming the stew and his fathers own chair.
Toretan hesitates at the odd spectacle before him, before moving further inside and placing his bundle on the floor. "Rabbit stew. You... cooked?" he asks, surprise in his voice. |