Hugh, Jakobe, and Nick V Taene - How to Slay Your Dragon
Getting back onto his horse, Jakobe looked at Hugh, Nick and Marcus, his companions for this part of the assault.
Not the best assortment, if he was being perfectly honest. Between Hugh and himself, this group had a serious disparity in agility and speed. However, they were going for quite a few enemies, so they would need to stick together. Ultimately, that simply meant that Thunderclap would have to keep at a walk or canter as they advanced, which was simple enough.
"Sir, would you like to take the front, or shall I?" Making sure that his halberd was ready, Jakobe and Thunderclap performed a short spin, looking around.
After a quick glance at the lone sentry, Hugh looked over his shoulder and replied to the Cavalier, "I'd like you to rush ahead, attempt to knock over the sentry, or at least block his escape. We'll follow as quickly as we can, take care of him, and then make a beeline for the archers." The excitement was building in him as he looked over his comrades. All seemed in order. "I see we're all ready to go, so...Jakobe, charge!"
Nodding, Jakobe gave Thunderclap a pat on the neck before caling out to the steed. "On, Thunderclap!" Kicking the horse on the flank, the two shot forward, Jakobe holding his halberd at the ready. As they approached the lone sentry, Jakobe slashed at the man with the blade of his halberd.
More or less alongside Jakobe given his lack of valiant steed, Hugh raced to keep up. Finding himself falling behind, the knight vowed to at least greet his enemy in spirit if not in person at the Cavalier's flank. After transferring his lance to his off hand, Hugh unslung a javelin from his cache and prepared to throw it should his ally's initial charge not keep the sentry down long enough.
As he jogged to keep up with the assault party, Nickolas turned quiet; as if the battle had ceased to be his concern. He muttered slowly under his breath, practicing careful pronunciation with each syllable that passed his lips. The dark mage glanced at the lone sentry that stood in their path. A lone man was all that stood between the Reclaimers and a perfect surprise attack.
Nickolas nodded to himself, his face grim. He'd make this as quick for the poor man as he could.
He cracked open the Flux tome and began to weave his occult ways in the air, leaving twisted trails of pale runes in the air as he stared with glowing eyes at his intended target.
Marcus took long strides as the assault party advanced, each readying his own weapon. Jakobe atop his horse, Hugh with his lance and Nickolas began to weave spells through the air.
Marcus fitted the Mend Crystal into his staff preparing for the bloodshed to come. Something about this didn't sit right with him. The sentry they were targeting looked
too frail. Not the kind of person that kept large groups in terror and he seemed not to have any weapons in his hand. It was possible he was a mage but Marcus didn't see a tome anywhere and he suspected natural magic users such as Syrena were one in a million.
"Everyone stay alert, something is amiss."
As it turned out, Taene's hypothesis that remaining still for too long would lead to being ambushed was backed by the Reclaimer's sudden burst into the village. At first, he wrote the sounds of pounding feet off as just the lackey bandits moving quickly for once. But the appearance of what appeared to be a man riding what Taene only could've assumed was a wyvern.
His body shot to attention and he called out to all of the men in the village, "PREPARE YOURSELVES!", in an attempt to hopefully give the bandits some form of a fighting chance. Unfortunately, it didn't seem that the invading force were too focused on taking out all of the lesser bandits. And Taene had to quickly come to terms with this as he ducked underneath a halberd blade in one of the closest brushes with death he had in recent memory. Noticing more enemies headed his way, Taene rolled away from the front of the building in an attempt to throw off his attackers.
Upon hitting his feet, he quickly drew a dagger from a pouch behind him.
Don't get carried away. You just need to get them down.At that moment, a javelin lodged itself in the soil at Taene's feet. In Jakobe's wake, Nick and Hugh arrived. The knight caught a glimpse of Taene's weapon of choice and smirked, "Ready to slit some innocent throats, I see. If you're not the top dog around here I'll go ahead and skip the dramatic dialog. Nick? Please fry him."
"I'll try to make it quick, Sir Hugh."
The muted chanting reached a crescendo as Nickolas planted himself behind the stalwart form of the knight. He whipped his arm up in a patently feral gesture and snarled out a word in some long forgotten tongue that hurt the ears. The sickly sweet stench that was the dark mage's constant shroud grew in volume and complexity as the primal power burst forth with a soundless pulse. The seemingly innocent smell revealed itself to be one of rotting fruit under-toned with the ripe bitterness of decaying flesh. From the dark mage's outstretched fingers, a purple-black ball of thumping energy threw itself forward. It hissed and spat horror as it rocketed toward the now exposed sentry.
Marcus hung to the rear of the charge. He knew that violence was sometimes nessesary but at the same time he'd also learned that most often it wasn't. He was here to support. If the time came that one of the group was in desperate need of assistance
then and only then would Marcus use his staff as a weapon.
The scent being summoned from Nickolas' Flux tome brought back some vivid and long forgotten memories. There was of course nothing inherently wrong with dark magic but still all these years later the feel of it on his skin made Marcus uneasy.
When the strange man finally drew his weapon, a dagger Marcus did not feel any better. That was not the weapon of someone expecting frontal combat. Something wasn't right here, something farmilar, it was hoving in the air all around this man but Marcus couldn't place it finger on it. It was from so long ago.
The words coming from the warrior that had thrown the javelin that had nearly hit Taene were essentially wasted, as he kept his eyes on the Flux tome carrying man who was very clearly rearing for an attack. Upon the sick smelling ball of despair and misery shooting out from the young man's fingers, Taene was on the move to avoid it reaching his skin.
He dove to the ground with gusto, letting it pass him and take the stench it carried with it. "You lot are quite intent on ending me, but your methods of doing so are quite.. bland," The Kindred shot to his feet, holding his weapon in front of him. "Please tell me this isn't the best you've got." The corner of his mouth tugged into a slight smirk, waiting for the next assault.
Behind the now crouching man, the dark magic spell spiraled onward until it clipped the edge of one of the thatched roofs. Still hissing violently, the rotting magic unraveled with spectacular force, the black tendrils ripping through the organic material with unnatural ferocity.
The sight of Taene doing nothing but waiting allowed Hugh to lay a pat on Nick's shoulder, and murmured "Keep up the pressure. All he's doing is dodging. One of us can make him dodge into the other's attack." The knight then rushed forward and aimed a hefty, two-handed horizontal swing at his opponent's torso. Behind him, Nickolas' muted chanting continued without breaking pace as he traced another set of pale runes. Moments later, the dark mage spat another word in the dark language and loosed another ball of bleak hatred at the knife-weilder's left side. Jakobe, meanwhile, was circling around for a second run at the sentry, this time his halberd's pointed end lined up with his enemy's torso. Between the three, he was sure they'd be able to strike a deathblow.
The challenge that was so desperately sought after was finally given to Taene, albeit in the form of pain no matter what choice or path was taken. As he was charged by the hefty looking knight, he quickly made an attempt to sidestep away from the blade, only to be met with a blast of Flux.
He was thrown off of his balance by the blast, because of the sudden force as well as the pain that rippled through his body as he felt the dark energy hook into his flesh in several areas of his chest at once. Taene tumbled to the ground quite quickly, losing grip of his dagger as he did. "..Good, good." Words forced themselves from his throat as he got to his feet. But he wasn't free from attack just yet, and he clutched his chest as he rolled to the side to avoid the charge from behind and a pretty nasty wound. "Nice try, but a basic spell isn't going to lead me to death."
"Try this on for size, brigand!" Hugh emoted as he advanced. He swung twice, taking a short hop forward each time in an effort to strike Taene as he tried to roll away. All the while, Hugh counted on more Flux to keep the pain coming, though he wished that Jakobe would stick around to help corner the slippery braggart rather than persevering with attack runs. "Help me box the villain in!"
Grunting as Taene avoided his second charge, Jakobe pulled Thunderclap's reigns back, causing the horse to slow, and guided the pair closer to the fighting. It was clear that it would take more than a one-man cavalry charge to end this, and as he approached, Jakobe moved his halberd to block off an avenue of escape for the sentry.
"It would have been better if it
did. I don't enjoy suffering." Nickolas crept around Hugh's armored form and readied another curse. His fingers slowly played on the wind and again called forth the blossom of decay from deep inside his tome. The deep colors of his magic swirled and boiled beneath his touch, and blasted forth on the grave wind, this time aiming to decapitate the wounded man.
Surrounded. Was the first thing that Taene thought to himself as he rolled to avoid Hugh's attacks, just as he assumed that the manakete would. A slash landed across his back, something that wasn't entirely expected. As the third Flux in a row was blasted towards him, Taene dropped into the fetal position to avoid it before pushing himself up into standing posture.
"Can't be avoided now, death wasn't in the mission debriefing." His hand shot into the pouch at his side from which he removed a twinkling stone which was strung onto a necklace of beads.
For the duration of the fight Marcus had been positioned at the rear of the group. Prepared to heal when nessesary and grudgingly to committed to combat if absolutely unavoidable. From his where he stood the monk had a perfect view of the stranger as he reached into a pouch by his sisde and pulled out a blue shining stone.
When he saw it Marcus' heart almost stopped. It had been at least twenty years since the monk had last set eyes on an object of such power and rarety and yet he recognized it perfectly. Though the one his mother had possesed had been black their was no doubt, they gave off the same vibe of caged power.
"Get back! Everyone, get back! He's a dragonform and he's preparing to change!"
Almost immediately after Marcus shouted his warnings, Taene thrust his fist into the air with the gem clenched tightly in it. Bluish energy swirled around him and collected around him forming into an odd shape resembling a flower, concealing his form. Suddenly, the "flower" burst open. Standing-- Flying, where Taene used to be, was a large azure dragon that stared down the men in front of him.
"
My turn." The dragon reared its head upwards, collecting an odd sort of frosty aura in its maw. When it felt that what it had was sufficient, it suddenly slammed its head downwards and launched a ball of pure winter at the dark mage that was accompanying the group. The breath was specifically aimed towards his hands, attempting to cut him off from his primary method of attack.
As the lone sentry transformed into a dragon, Thunderclap neighed loudly and reared onto his hind legs, almost throwing Jakobe off. Holding his halberd awkwardly in one hand, the mounted knight threw the other arm around his horse, trying to calm him down. After he was at least level, Jakobe tok a good look at the dragon standing before him. "In all my life, I never thought I'd see a Manakete in the flesh...."
Nickolas' casting hand slashed down and out, immediately canceling the fourth Flux curse as he dived to the side, hitting the ground with a grunt. Satisfied with his escape, he glanced up to see his gross miscalculation and the ball of pure cold smashing toward him.
A stifled scream broke through his lips as his left leg froze, a pain akin to burning slashing across the dark mage's nerves. He grabbed at his next tome, grunting out painful syllables as the scent of burning wood began to rise in place of the stench of rot.
Knowing what was to come Marcus started to run towards the dark mage. His calm exterior seemed fractured. He wasn't in time to push Nickolas out of the way of the ice blast but he could at least mitigate the damage.
It was clear the ice had done some serious nerve damage to Nickolas' leg. This kind of wound was more difficult to deal with. Simply stitching flesh back together was relatively easy. However returning life to rotting or frozen extremities was a might more difficult. This wouldn't be a quick or easy fix but perhaps for the moment Marcus could do something to ensure that Nickolas had his leg in working order for the remainder of the battle.
Marcus planted his staff in the ground next to the dark mages leg and the crystal began to glow. He could guarantee the mage perhaps fifteen minutes of full use of his leg before this started to wear off. After that it would take several days and regular treatments to heal it properly.
Marcus reached inside himself for his magic and placed his hand on the man's leg. "Nickolas, you are going to feel excellent for perhaps the next fifteen minutes. After that it will be pain like you've never imagined it before. There are not any other options. You have my apologies."
Within Nickolas' leg the flesh thawed out and the nerve signals began to route around any damaged ones. Marcus made sure that those reporting pain were cancelled out. The dark mage's leg now worked perfectly fine but this was only a temporary patch.
Meanwhile, Hugh, having not taken any adverse side effects due to Taene's transformation, advanced into melee range. "And the evil beast dost reveal its true form! Jakobe, pair up with me!" He shouted, and thrusted upward with his lance to spear the dragon in the belly. In this form the knight knew, while capable of flight, Taene couldn't rise out of his reach without sacrificing the effectiveness of his ice breath, and larger size meant slower movement.
Jakobe spun his halberd around once, then twice before whipping the spike on the reverse side of his halberd towards the dragon's leg, intent on prohibiting it from standing without great difficulty.
Noticing the knight charging him from the front in an attempt to spear through his scaled belly, Taene beat his wings much harder than he had been previously to send gusts of wind towards Hugh to hopefully push him back, or at least remove his weapon from his hand. His tail quickly lashed at Jakobe, attempting to knock his halberd back with the spined appendage.
But he knew that the mage was truly what he needed to worry about now. As the smell of burning wood hit his nostrils he knew that another spell was being readied to hit him from the front. Another ball of magical frost was gathered between his jaws as he reared up to fire at Nikolas a second time.
Nickolas nodded, unable to properly respond to the healer as the preparations for his next attack came underway. His fingers traced blazing golden runes into air around him as he murmured the scripture inside the red tome. A brilliant pinprick of light burst into existence mere inches from his dancing fingers as a pulse of dry heat shattered the remaining frost in the air. It swelled in strength and volume in tandem with his measured chanting until a fist-sized sun crackled in front of the dark mage. It was already fighting to let itself loose as Nickolas leveled it at the ice manakete.
"I'm sorry."