Kyzler let go of any doubt or caution that he held as the situation became more clear by the girls struggle.
Despite the growing distance between them he paused out in the open road and took a deep breath. Inhaling deeply of the cool nights air. Clearing his mind and thoughts. His fingers dancing upon his pockets and hidden pouches, running inventory of what he had available at his disposal. They opted to rest on his bolas belt over any kind of knife or shuriken, and the distance between them was too great for a dart.
But first... a warning. Hopefully reasoning would prevail.
With a heavy exhale his voice thundered down the street. Loud and deep it boomed with an untold authority and urgency. “STOP RIGHT THERE AND PUT THE CHILD DOWN” He spoke with a confidence that demanded obedience, words clear, marred by the faintest tang of common slang. His steely gaze watching the unknown man intently.
The girl was struggling despite her bleeding gut. She was going into panic. Sheffield quickly took out another bandage and desperately pressed it on another naked part of the cut, but for an injury this size he didn't have high hopes. And go back? But... this girl was the only one he could ask.
Yes, if this was the only way to convince her right now, without her getting into hysterics, then maybe-- no, he should move back to where he saw the girl at least, treat her along the way, ask her more. He had emergency treatment that must be enough. But where were those damnable Hunters? Where were the townspeople? Was everyone that scared? Sheffield debated getting something louder when he heard shuffling behind him.
Loud and deep it boomed with an untold authority and urgency. “STOP RIGHT THERE AND PUT THE CHILD DOWN!”
Sheffield (gently) whirled around. There was a man older than him, blond, bearded, and beat up. But the young Hunter sensed many things about him.
Regardless, a misunderstanding of all times? Sheffield would not have such a thing.
"Who asks!? I am a Hunter, I have a bleeding girl, but she won't say clearly if I get far--her family is being attacked by a monster a-and right now she might only tell me if I don't treat her first!" He blurted everything he knew right now out, counting the seconds it was all taking.
Sheffield had no idea of what issue to get to first, but here was someone who might help. They would all need it, fast.
Rebecca rolled her eyes when Alexina decided not to kill the vile slime that had executed the raid. She was a pacifist, at least to a point, and killing unprovoked was bad enough, but what they had done to the child was beyond reproach. If she were running the coven, they would all be bound to stakes with silver shackles. No death would be torturous enough for them, but given the nature of the assignment Alexina had given them, it was a fair bet at least some would not be coming back. She went back to the castle, stopping by the library. She had work to do, old friends to speak with. Time didn't stop for the dead.
Saen quickly slithered away from the other dispersing witches. She wasn't happy with herself, and needed some time to think. So she went to the place she always did when she wanted to be alone for a little bit- the rose garden in the castle courtyard, for which Medusa had named castle, coven, and herself alike. The lamia stretched herself out, feeling the warmth of the sun on her scales. This was better than seeing the coven turn on itself- but then again, there wasn't much worse than seeing her friends literally at each other's throats.
Kyzler quickly moved to asses the situation for himself. An urgency took his step as caution shifted to the back of his mind. As he approached the duo and looked over the slender armoured young man, Kyzler couldn’t help but regain his guard. Despite this young mans appearance offering no sign’s of mistrust and his story fitting true, there was just something about him that didn’t sit right in the deep pits of Kyzler’s stomach. An unnerving feeling he couldn’t place nor shake.
But there was no time nor urgency for that. The girl was indeed bleeding badly, blood soaked clothes glistened in the moonlight. Her ignorance of the wound and focus else where was evidence of shock borderline of hysterics.
He had to calm the girl and had just the tools to do so. Pulling a small half filled vile from one of many discreet pouches on his body, he uncorked it and reluctantly parted with the faintly citrusy, fruity smelling liquid that held the subtle musky undertones that hinted of hemlock. As he emptied it onto a small cloth he seemed displeased.
”It will be bitter, but it will calm her. Put her to sleep eventually if she sucks enough from it. You might have to force it in her mouth but it will definitely take the fight from her. I know from personal experience.“ Said Kyzler as he handed the small scrunched up cloth to the young man and moved to support and comfort the girl. Kyzler decided to leave the difficult labour to the Good Samaritan while softly whispering soothing reassurance to the girl.
Tallia stood next to the other huntsman left to defend the church. The other two were still committed to clearing the rubble to get inside and reach the princess. She held her sword to her side, both hands gripping the hilt tight as her eyes watched the silhouettes in the fog. "Be ready. They'll come again any moment now..."
The other huntsman nodded, raising his shield up higher. Tallia glanced sidelong at him, "Be strong. You fight for Tera's life at this moment, and by extension, the life of your king's. Victory here means the survival of our kingdom."
The huntsman exhaled and let out an uneasy chuckle, "No pressure."
Tallia grinned, "None whatsoever." The two of them laughed quietly in unison as they waited for the next wave.
Every time the undead emerged from the fog, they were more and more organized and capable. The dark magic animating them was powerful, and that genuinely worried Tallia. How long would they be able to hold out? How long before the undead started using tactics and fought as a greater whole? Tallia didn't want to say it, but she knew at the rate things were going, they were going to die that day. If only they could find the necromancer and kill it. Then they would have a chance. The witch would have to be somewhere in the fog. Necromancy had a relatively short range after all.
"There," The other huntsman said as he pointed his finger, "I see something headed straight for us... What the hell? Is that armor?"
Tallia turned her head and saw exactly what the huntsman was seeing. A knight in full plate armor moving slowly but purposefully toward them. Undead shambled slowly behind the knight, which helped to see just how coordinated this knight was in comparison. It wasn't a walking corpse. It was something more. Tallia turned to the two other huntsmen clearing the rubble, "Take up your weapons! We're going to need them!"
The huntsmen quickly stopped what they were doing. They grabbed their weapons, one wielding a spear, and the other wielding a great sword. The spear wielding huntsman formed up next to Tallia, "It's the necromancer! If we kill him now, we've break the horde!"
Tallia would have appreciated such bravery if the princess wasn't there. Hell, she might well have joined them as the huntsmen let out a warcry and broke formation to charge. But now wasn't the time for heroics. "Hold fast!"
They didn't listen. The huntsmen were so desperate to finish this fight and survive, that they didn't stop for one moment to consider Tera's well being. That was what set Tallia apart from the other huntsmen, aside from Father Wyn. These huntsmen were all summoned by Tera and paid to bring her to this infamous, haunted land. Their loyalty was in the promise of gold and riches when the task was complete. While all skilled in their own right, the huntsmen all had their own irregular strategies, and it didn't mesh well.
Things became slow for Tallia as she watched the three hunters charge straight at the knight. She felt something inside of her. An instinct. Tallia simply knew that, in the end, she'd be the only one left to slow the black knight down in a just a few moments. Tallia placed her sword in front of her, and began to recite the warrior's creed of her homeland. Revealing herself to the other huntsmen now was the only way anybody would survive. The only Tera, her sacred charge, would live on.
"In darkness, I shall be light."
Upon uttering those words, a sapphire inlaid in the hilt of her sword began to glow. The fog surrounding Tallia began to swirl lightly. The other huntsmen were too busy running at the knight to notice what was happening. She preferred it that way, the others didn't need the distraction of witchcraft among their ranks. The first hunter reached striking distance with his spear. He lunged forward. The tip of the spear simply passed through the gut of the knight. It's body rippled and swirled as though smoke has just been disturbed. When the hunter pulled his spear back with no resistance, he saw no blood on the end of it.
"In times of doubt, I shall keep faith."
Tallia watched the hunters assault the knight while she continued her warrior's creed. The sapphire glowed bright, and began to emanate magical energy. The energy started wrapping itself around the blade. The fog twirled more around her, and her hair began to lift and flit about. Tallia eyes started taking on the same sapphire glow. The black knight reached forth and grabbed the hunter's spear, clenching his fist and splintering the wooden shaft into pieces. It took the hold of the spearhead and thrust it back at the huntsman like a dagger. The spearhead pierced the man's chest and came out his back. Ethereal energy started pouring from the spearhead, latching onto the hunter's body as the knight pulled away, ripping the huntsman's soul from his body. The soul melded with the knight's misty form until it ceased to be. The next hunter saw that and let out a terrified shriek. But when the fight or flight instinct kicked in, his body went through the motions, and chose to fight. He hefted his great sword in the air and went for a mighty swing.
"In throes of rage, I shall hone my craft." "... my craft..."
Just like the spear, the great sword passed through the body of the knight, separating the upper and lower halves of the misty knight, but not stopping its approach at all. The huntsman, having expected the strike to stop his momentum, staggered as the weight of the great sword carried him forward. The knight didn't even bother raising its weapon to kill the man. When the huntsman passed through its body, he simply slumped into the mud as his soul was pulled by ethereal tendrils into the back of the knight. The soul let out distanct, echoing screams as it was absorbed into the unholy being. The hunter's limp body then began to shift and move, raising to its feet and joining the undead horde behind the knight. During all of this, Tallia continued reciting her creed. The makeup on her face began to melt away, revealing witch tattoos on her forehead and cheeks. The witchmarks started glowing to match her eyes and blade.
"In vengeance..." "In vengeance, I shall have no mercy." "... no mercy..."
The knight's icy gaze fell directly on Tallia as she spoke, ignoring the third huntsman as he swung his blade. That momentary distraction allowed for the sword to strike the knight's ethereal form, and actually catch on its body. The knight looked down, seeing the silver blade embedded in its armor. The huntsman tried pulling his sword free of the knight's armor, but the armor seemingly reformed itself around the blade. The knight clenched a plated fist and uppercutted the hunter, taking the wind of out of his chest and sending him flying back a few feet. He lay on his back, struggling to get some air in his lungs. Before he could, the knight stepped ever closer, and dropped its heavy plate boot down on his chest. He wheezed as his ribs all cracked and collapsed. The knight didn't break pace, it's foot tearing the soul from the crushed huntsman's body. There was nothing standing in the way between the knight and Tallia now.
"In the midst of battle," "In the midst of battle,"
A ghostly voice spoke alongside Tallia's. It wasn't her own.
"I shall have no fear." "I shall have no fear."
The knight stopped before Tallia, as if waiting for her to finish reciting her creed. Magical energy was whipping around Tallia now. The witch's sword glowed bright blue, matching that of the black knight's own weapon. Tallia kept her gaze locked on the knight, and it returned the cold glare. She moved her blade into a guard, then heard a voice speak. "Finish those words, Arcadians. I am in a hurry."
The black knight raised its large blade into a similar guard. Then both Tallia and the ghostly voice spoke in unison.
"In the face of Death, I shall have no remorse."
"I would expect nothing less." the sinister voice said and began to laugh as Tallia and the knight both swung their blades. The clash of magically imbued steel against magically imbued steel let out a high pitched ring. Surrounding fog whipped away from the impact, and the nearest undead that were left outside of the gray simply tumbled lifelessly into the mud.
[Mood Music] ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ [Interaction with @Celsius and @Legion02]
“Princess you need to come with us or you’ll die too. We need to go, now!”
Tera nodded and watched as both John and Sarah took the lead and began stepping into the hidden passageway. When the sound of some sort of clash rang out through the church, Tera and her two bodyguards turned to the source of the noise beyond the rubble. Dale spoke, "What in the world was that?"
Father Wyn furrowed his brows and hurried both Dale and Tera down into the tunnel. "Oh, Tallia..." he mumbled quietly before addressing Dale's question, "That is the sound of a last resort. Come quickly."
Tera tried looking past Father Wyn as she was ushered into the dark corridor, "What about Tallia and the others?"
The priest didn't slow down, "I'm sure we'll see Tallia at the end of all this, princess. For now, focus on the path ahead."
No words were exchanged after Father Wyn told them to remain wary. Beyond the group's torchlight was pitch darkness. The tunnel walls were close together, so the group could only proceed in single file. As they went deeper into the tunnel, the air got cold and damp. A stale scent was becoming more and more prominent as they descended further into the darkness. Every movement they made echoed off of the stone walls. Further into the tunnel, far beyond the sight of any one of them, water droplets could be heard landing in pools. More importantly, the faint sound of air flowing through the corridors told them that there was an exit, and that it was open. Dale whispered ahead, loud enough for both John and Sarah could hear, "If we follow the airflow, we'll find our way out. Feel for the air current."
Tera clutched her cloak and wrapped herself tightly as she moved through the tunnel. She felt Father Wyn's calm hand land on her shoulder, and guide her reassuringly. She was glad that Father Wyn had joined on this expedition. His patience with her was near legendary, and Tera practically considered Father Wyn as an uncle. But the thought of having him here and not Tallia made her stomach go bottomless. Despite being aloof, Tera could hardly remember a moment when Tallia wasn't there to watch over her. It just felt wrong to not have her guardian by her side.
Once again, there were no words passing around. Everybody was too focused on listening and feeling for the airflow. Eventually, the corridor widened into far larger network of tunnels. Father Wyn had seen them plenty of times before. "A catacomb. Strange that a small town such a Goldencrest would have one of such size, but... I suppose this region is known for its history." his tone of voice wasn't laced with as much reverence.
The walls had shelves and insets in the masonry filled with skeletal remains and other random bones. The bones all seemed weathered and from a previous era. Thick layers of dust blanketed most of the remains and piled in corners. "I imagine we are the first people in a long time to set foot in these tunnels." Father Wyn said.
Dale stepped forward and shook his head. He pointed at the floor, picking out tracks in the dusts. They were pin pricks, not resembling the feet of any person or animal he had seen. "First people, sure. But it would seem this catacomb has become something else's home now."
The airflow in the tunnels left streaks in the dust on the floor, making for a clear indication which direction they needed to travel. The pin prick tracks moved in the same direction. "A giant spider perh-"
"DON'T jinx us." Dale interjected. He wasn't a fan of spiders.
They pressed on. Tera had drawn her short sword at some point, she wasn't entirely sure when she did. Father Wyn kept his heavy mace at the ready. And Dale already had one of his arrows knocked and set ablaze from a torch. No spider was going to get the best of him. The party continued following the tracks and the airflow through the tunnel. As they did, they could notice the skeletal remains becoming less and less complete, as though certain bones were missing or were plucked away from the long dead bodies. Those that remained seemed almost pristine, like they were meticulously cleaned or polished. Eventually, even the dust seemed to become more and more scarce.
Then there was the sound of rattling ahead. Then the feeble sniffling of a man. The party stopped just at the entrance to a larger antechamber. The torchlight couldn't even fill the entire room. The whimpering man cried, his voice coarse and aged. "Who's there? I... I see light! I haven't seen light in... years? No... I've been counting... That's all I can do is count down here..."
The man started to count upward quietly, the echo in the chamber allowing the group to him in clarity. If only they could see him. "One two three four- four! Four centuries! The light! Ohhh it's so... B- b- beautiful!"
The rattling sound could be heard again, but not from the same direction as the man's voice. Dale looked around frantically, searching for anything. The rattling sound drew closer. As it did, it became clear that the hollow sound was bones making contact with the stone floor and walls. There was a pattern in it, like something was crawling or walking. Pat. Tick. Klok. Pat. Klok. Tick. Then more sounds began to echo across the stone walls. Something was calling.
Then the mysterious man started to sniffle again. "It's coming back... Oh- oh no... Oh it's coming back! You all need to run! It'll capture you too! It'll... It'll feed you and keep you alive forever until you're nothing! R- run away from here! Far away!"
Then the man began to scream loudly, "I've got nothing left! N- nothing! Don't take anything else! P- please!"
In frustration, Dale tossed his torch into the antechamber, revealing a pit dug into the ground and walled with pristine ribcages. Tucked inside each ribcage was a skull that rattled every so often. The screaming man could be seen now, hanging from sharp spears made out of bones in the roof. His whole body was limp, supported only by the long femur spears. He looked amorphous almost, like he had no skeleton to hold the shape of his arms or legs. The only things left that had any sort of rigidity in his body was his head and his torso. Those eerie calls became louder, as did the sounds of the creature's crawling. Pat. Tick. Klok. Pat. Klok. Tick.
One final call announced its arrival from deep within the bone pit. A long arm made of human femurs reached out first, then a second, and then a third. It let out another echoing ticking noise as it pulled itself from the bone pit. It didn't resemble any sort of human despite having the same bones. It didn't resemble... anything whatsoever. The bony creature crawled out from the pit entirely, and lets out another low warble. At its 'head', was a jumbled up mess of humans and animal skulls. It looked around, then spotted the man hanging from the bone spears. With one of its long femur arms, it reached up toward the man. He screamed and the party, "Run! I'm doomed! But I can at least save you from the Bone Taker!"
Just as he said that, the clawed fingers of the creature made contact with the chest of the man. He let out a piercing cry as those fingers seemingly moved through his skin. His whole body began to shift and break as the creature moved its hand through his body. Dale watched in pure horror as the man remained completely alive and conscious during the ordeal. The bone taker began withdrawing its arm. In its clawed hand was the man's rib cage, moving through his flesh like it was never there to begin with. His screams never stopped as he watched the Bone Taker add his own rib cage to its body. When the creature found a sufficient enough place for it, it simply attached without any issue. The individual ribs them broke up, and began to unnaturally move as extra limbs. Dale cried out in horror and disgust, "D- demon! It's a demon! Kill it!"
With the party's silence now broken, the Bone Taker turned its many faced head to them. It let out a growl-like warble and stood straight backed on four bony, stilt like legs. It was three men tall. Out of all of the skull's on its 'head'. Only the eye sockets of one of the skulls were filled with a dark red glow. The skulls began to shift and roll all over its body and into different locations. Then it let out a loud, ear piercing roar.
A bitter sweet smell filled her nose as a cloth was passed over her face. The overwhelming stench burn her eyes. Her eyes grew wide as she finally managed to register what they were trying to do with what the other man said. A wave of more panic came into her eyes, She struggled more, she had to get out of their arms. They had no intention in going to find her parents right now. She had to get back to them so she did what she did best.
She bit down.
Hard.
She bit the new strangers arm as he tried to pass the cloth to the first one. Blood was easily drawn. With suddenly seeming to have more energy she lashed out with a renewed passion to get away. Scratching the first man's face while he reached out to grab the cloth. No longer able to hold her with both arms she managed to wriggle free, falling flat on her side.
“No! Mama...Papa...They need help,” Her voice coming in tight gasps. “Please….please let me show you where,” She let out a dry sob, “P-please they’ll die,” She said as she tried to get up and away from them. Not waiting for them to answer.
Her pace was slow, hardly a run at all. But they were close enough to the forest that she was able to reach the trees quickly. “Please, come look,” She called back.
Her pace was slow, hardly a run at all. But they were close enough to the forest that she was able to reach the trees quickly. "Please, come look,” she called back.
"Gods dang it all!"
Sheffield's face burned from the scratch, but it wasn't enough to distract him from the runner. Or shambler, rather.
A little fighter, this stupid girl was. All selfless, all focused, all trouble for everyone else. She was quite the reminder of what Sheffield usually did.
A change of plans, then. Sheffield shot up to his feet and whirled on the older man. His words nearly blurred as his thoughts ran faster. "We've wasted enough time. No time for sedation. Townsfolk should be here soon, but her family's in trouble."
The young Hunter darted ahead without another word and easily stopped in front of the girl, glaring. His voice was much more sharper when he spoke to her.
"Listen here, listen well!" He took the girl's hands and pressed a new bundled up ball of bandages into them, then pushed them against her cut. "Hold that; keep yourself alive to guide me over to where your family is. I'll carry you and you point where to go. Don't help me, then I won't help you and bash you over the head and leave your family for dead, UN-DER-STAND?"
He felt a nasty taste in his mouth as the harsh words left him. He wouldn't actually hurt her even more, but this girl had to understand he'll help. He didn't wait for an answer and scooped the girl up again in a bridal carry.
"Come with me, or better yet, make sure the Hunters come, blond stranger!" He shouted back to the blond as he jogged ahead. Hopefully they won't be too late.
Kyzler scowled as the girls teeth sunk into his arm. It was followed by a chuckle as he admired her resolve and determination. Trying to shake off the pain he casually watched her desperate attempt on the floor. Shaking his head he turned to Sheffield. Eyes glaring.
”Since you dropped her you can.... his words trailed off. ”Oh fuck.” he whispered.
He watched and listened to the hunter with despair. So brash and reckless. Realising he couldn’t change what had began, Kyzler sighed, paused for a moment then grit his teeth angrily as he decided to follow the self proclaimed hunter and dying girl. Follow them away from safety, away from help, towards murderers, unknown dangers and dangerous people and possibly her dead parents.
Kyzler didn’t get to the age he currently is by being a reckless fool. But if that is true, why could he not just stop following them?
His gaze kept switching from the girl to signs of her tracks on the floor. The shuffling and movement couldn’t be good for her or her injury. He wanted to be sure they were on the right path. In her state it would be easy for her to get mixed up or suddenly pass out.
It was a horrible thought to have but it did pass Kyzler’s mind, ‘maybe they would be better off if she didn’t survive the trip.’ He tried to run every scenario in his head but had so little information. In every situation of combat she was going to be a liability. An extra target, a bargaining tool, a hinderance, unpredictable and irrational. Kyzler was already preparing a heavy speech and beating for this foolish hunter. It would take pure luck to see this night to the end without disaster.
Now he knew why he had an off feeling about this kid...
Lyra watched as Emiliah grew with excitement and then fell back as she reached for something that wasn’t there.
She was tired. So tired. And in this instant, she fucking hated all the monsters and just wanted to lay down. But even if she did lay down and try to forget everything-- she would just lie in bed and worry. So, instead, she smiled back and nodded.
“Sounds good to me. And, I.. hm alright.” Her gaze couldn’t help but wander over Emiliah. She bit her lip and then lightly brushed past her newfound friend. There is no time for anything like that.
Together, they went out the door and into the night. It was colder than it had been only moments ago. And it wasn’t peaceful. She heard yells. And screams. Lyra pulled out one of her axes as her entire body perked, eyes searching for the source. Her knuckles grew light as she gripped the blade. Without looking back to Emiliah, she handed her the weapon. Drawing out her shield and second axe, she was ready and began walking, quick and strong.
It didn’t matter how she felt. It didn’t matter whatever was happening. There were loud voices-- scared voices. And one of them belonged to a little girl.
Opening her door to her small house, Rowyn slipped in and shut the door behind her. A sigh escaped her lips as she finally got away from the few prying eyes left on the street. She didn’t live in the best part of Seren’s Folley and drunks tended to hang around the area as well as just those who walked the darker paths of life. She had already proven to not be someone to mess with though, a drunk meeting her when she was possessed. It was luck that he survived. Slipping her shoes off and stripping her bloodied dress off, Rowyn picked the dress up and carried it with her bag over to a table in the corner, barely visible in the faint moonlight coming in the window. Picking up flint and steel, she lit a candle quickly, using the lit candle to light more candles providing light in her small home.
A deep breath escaped her as she felt her body relax. The air was stale but the candles were slowly breathing life into the place as they burned, the flicker of the flame leaving dancing shadows on the creaking walls. Walking to her large basin of water, Rowyn took a bucket off the shelf above the basin and scooped some water from the basin, careful to avoid getting her hands in the water. She took the bucket to another smaller basin and poured some water into it before setting the bucket besides the small table the small basin sat on.
Sitting on the stool before the basin, Rowyn got to work scrubbing her hands with a bar of soap and a rough brush. The water slowly turning pink as the blood slowly washed off her hands. Looking up, Rowyn met eyes with herself, her golden eyes shimmering in the fire light, reflected in a broken shard of a mirror she had scavenged. As the candlelight flickered, a dancing shadow seemed to grow darker.
Rowyn blinked and upon her eyes reopening, a dark form of inky black was behind her. Its eyes just two glowing white eyes. For most, this sudden appearance would have freaked them out. But to Rowyn it was normal. If she were to turn around, there would be nothing but emptiness behind her. The figure was simply a figment of her imagination, a hallucination of a sense.
“So you decided to show yourself?” Rowyn asked, though it was clear the question was rhetorical.
‘I always show myself to just you. You are mine, my lovely.’ The demon said, his voice reverberating through her head as her lifted a strand of her hair in the reflection, no hair moving outside the mirror shard.
“I’m not yours.” Scrubbing at her hand harder, Rowyn practically hissed at him. She hated him calling her ‘my lovely’. She was disgusted by it and him. “Some witch will happily be yours. Or just go find my mother in hell where you should be and she can be yours.”
‘My lovely lovely girl. You have always been mine well before you were born. Don’t fight it. I’ll make your life blissful as we bring hell to earth through your womb.” The figure moved from one side of Rowyn to the other side of her. The voice in her head moving along with it. ‘All human men are inferior to me.’ Anger could be felt from the demon inside Rowyn. His anger pushing at her own emotions. ‘That damn man from earlier was too close to what belongs to me. Your womb is mine and mine only. WHY DIDN’T YOU LET ME KILL HIM!?”
Rowyn finished cleaning her hands and threw the brush into the water, causing it to splash up and onto the mirror as she stood up. The figure behind her dispersing into the shadows as she turned and went to her dresser. “My womb is mine and mine only until I choose to give it to another. I WILL find a way to get rid of you.” She practically threw her drawer open and pulled her huntress gear out, quickly getting dressed, sliding on the jacket last.
The demon laughed in her mind as she went to her main table where her bag was, shelves of herbs and small bottles of premade herbal medicines, plus other items for making said medicines. She was quick to unpack her bag and replace the low supplies with more supplies and added new items, anything she saw fit for treating wendigo wounds. Rowyn had to stop though as the demon’s laugh overwhelmed her.
Placing her hands on the table she leaned back and hung her head down. ‘My lovely. You have tried so hard to rid me. Do the cross shaped scars and memories of burns from holy water and holy oil not doing anything show you that? Or how none of your medicines nor your poisons with antidotes did anything? You can’t get rid of me my lovely. I will forever be here and come your 25th birthday I will make it official. You will be my bride and bare my children. Now speak my name my lovely. Speak it knowing one day it will be the name of your husband.”
Rowyn’s grip on the table tightened as a single tear escaped her eyes, she knew he was right. There was no hope in keeping her from her fate. A shaky breath was taken before she did as she was asked,
”Finally...Work!” Sanjin huffed, happy to hear a hunt being officially called. While he wasn’t hugely familiar with wendigos, if they were a trio of normally solo hunters then some rules should still apply. ”We should be careful while we track them down...When solo hunters start working together, it generally means they’re targeting bigger prey. It’s not unreasonable to assume that if this...pod? Im gonna use pod. Pod of Wendigos is hunting together that they’ve engaged groups of hunters as a unit before.” He said suddenly to Draco, his normal energy somewhat focusing as he unclipped his mask from his belt.
He fumbled with the straps for a moment, tightening the leather strips until he could feel them almost cutting into the skin of his scalp. Two other hunters piped up that they were interested in joining, the doctor and the nice lavender lady, which struck him as a good omen. Nobody ever complains about having a doctor on for a hunt, provided they didn’t...ya know. Die immediately.
The other man seemed experienced, but Sanjin was perhaps a little worried about how casually he was taking the whole situation. ”We’ll wait for you here.” He said, almost as an after thought, to the two women as they left. He returned his attention to the older hunter and Bobby. ”Don’t suppose either of you know if Wendigo’s have any particular weaknesses we could send a runner to buy before we leave?…also, how much are we getting paid for this?...cause I would like my share in dried meats.” He asked, for once not bouncing on his heels. Despite his excitement, he knew better than to waste energy before they set out. There would be more than enough reasons to spend it in a few minutes.
The scholar took notes as the tall hunter next to him explained the basics of wendigos on his notepad. He had several accounts of the creatures, but found it necessary to always write down as many accounts as possible in order to cross-examine which information was reliable. “I see...I see!” He said enthusiastically to the man.
Bobby called out and asked who’d be ready for the hunt, to which Aromull raised up a hand slightly before going back to finishing his notes. “It would be wonderful to see the creatures in action, and I’d be happy to help out where I can,” he said. Aromull supposed he was quite ready for an excursion, having never settled down after coming all this way here. It wasn’t witches, but certainly watching other hunters perform their work would be quite intriguing, and of all creatures it was the fascinating wendigos! “Should we be off soon? I presume it’s rather dangerous to let the beautiful creatures be so close to humans.”
The hunter did not walk for very far, having to stop and sit against a tree. He felt what normally overwhelmed him in these moments, and needed to cool his head. “No...no…” he whispered, one hand on his forehead. “Not again, you can’t do this again. You said you were done! No more witches, no more!”
They killed him, he thought. He must be avenged! We MUST find the killer! “I don’t even know who he is anymore!” He yelled out, then attempted to calm himself. “It’s okay...it’s alright...everything is fine…” Matrim stood and clutched his quarterstaff tighter. “Just keep moving...just keep moving…” He walked through the forest slowly, as if the next step could possibly send him down to Hell. His head ached horribly, but he kept moving. Issue was, he was so focused on just taking more steps that he had forgotten which direction he was actually supposed to go.
After his confession, it didn't take long for Bartolomeo to notice Andvari being distracted from their conversation by the announcement of a hunt for Wendigos. While he noticed a few hunters raise their hand (metaphorically anyway) for the task, the young noble shook his head as he used the table to push himself to his feet. "Forgive me, but I do have business elsewhere to attend to Bobby. I need to visit a noble scholor I know who's obsession with the occult and rituals is... mostly harmless, but he might have some insight into what the nature of the ritual at Goldencrest was about and I would rather speak to him while as many of the details are still fresh in my mind as possible. I'll try to return as soon as I can, but I must be away. I bid you all farewell until then."
Raising his hat and offering a small bow, he turned towards the door to walk out into the night, cane still firmly in hand as he went to go mount the horse that he had ridden into town on. He had far to go and not enough time to do it in after all.
The shadows had faded to nothing before the hunter was entirely out of view. The last thing the coven needed right now was for a hunter to follow them back because Taran was too eager to return home. Alexina would not look to kindly on him leading a true enemy back to the coven while their home was in turmoil. And so...they waited.
Once he was certain that the hunter was too far away to easily track them, he allowed his body to feel the exhaustion of the day. His legs ached from running and his wrist still burned, while his finger had gone worryingly numb.
“I think we are good to-” Taran felt the would ‘go’ die on his lips as he turned to look at Celosia.
Starting from her roots, Taran watched as her hair turned bright molton orange and spread down her body, incinerating her clothing as it went before finally pooling around her ankles.
The girl quickly covered her body with her dripping hair, but not before Taran caught sight of the gentle, very naked, curves of her body. He immediately looked away, refusing to meet the girls eyes again, even after she had adjusted her ‘hair’ to save her modesty.
The smell of the woods burning filled the air as tiny (but ever growing) plumes of smoke started to rise into the air. “You can control that...right?” he said, his eyes glued to the slowly appearing stars “Alexina doesn’t like it when people mess with her forest,”
The scream of a child echoed through the night. For all of it’s short falls, Seren’s Folly was not a dangerous place for children to live. Without hesitation, Lyra took off towards the sound, leaving Emiliah to go after her supplies on her own. The thought of following her hardly crossing Emiliah’s mind. Either Lyra could handle it on her own, or it would be suicide for Emiliah to try and help empty handed. Her cottage wasn’t far though, a few street over from the tavern. She would have to count on the girl holding her own until she could return.
Goblin Lore:
Goblins are skittish creatures that like to lurk among the dark places of the world. Ruins, crypts, caves and thickly covered bogs being their favorites. They tend to avoid interacting with most humans. The most common tales of interaction are of human caravans that come too close to goblins hunting grounds and farmers complaining about the goblins attacking their livestock. Goblins are fascinated by chickens. There is evidence that they see the creatures as a type of god on earth. When Goblins get too hyped up in a large crowd, they have been known to cause havoc that would topil most towns. Like orcs, of which they share a common ancestor, they tend to favor the pleasure of ‘human flesh’. Rarely discriminating between genders and often confused between fornication and eating their victim. It is unclear by what means the creatures are motivated…..
Weidango Lore:
They are creatures of gluttony. Formed by man and doomed to never be sated. These creatures are beyond reason, their hunger being the only thing that drives them. They are often found in deserted mines, caves and other place far away from any human settlement. They are said to be the twisted remains of a man driven to do horrible things. As all men do when they are starving.
They are fast, faster than you can imagine and deceptively strong. The only thing that truly keeps god-fearing men safe from these creatures is that they cannot think or breed….
She had her home clearly in her sights when a heavy weight crashed into her legs. Sending her sprawling into the dirt. Through the dim light given off by the torches that lined the streets, Emiliah caught sight of a small, dog size creature pulling itself up. It’s body was covered in oozing sores and small tufts of hair springing up at odd angles. It opened it mouth to reveal a mess of long, broken and jagged teeth.
A Goblin
His eyes were wild, like he was just as surprised to run into her and she was to be ran into. It let out a gargled call and a nearby window shattered as another goblin crashed through it. Clutching a wooden spoon with one hand, while using the other to pull out the glass now stuck in his arm.
They were mostly harmless creatures. Goblins.
Well...not harmless, they were destructive diseased creatures...the rats of the monster world. They could topple a small town and ruin lives with there sheer ferocity. But at least they were easy to kill.
A sharp pain shot up Emiliah’s leg as yet a third goblin joined their party. His claws ripping at her pants, tearing threw them like nothing, drawing blood in their wake. With a poorly concealed scream, she yanked her leg back, freeing it from the creatures claws, before stomping down hard on the creature. It let out a howl of pain, grasping at it’s leg. She didn’t think she broke it, but it wouldn’t be overly eager to follow her for the time being.
She bolted towards her front door, yanking it open and slamming it shut behind her a second later. She could hear those who had retired early being roused by what must have been a sizable tribe of goblins. The three she ran into cleary not being the only things to terrorize the town this night.
With her spear now in hand, Emiliah braced herself for her reentry into the world. A glance out her front window showed the goblins in all their horrible might. A group of them had a poor soul pinned down as they began to tear his clothes apart, their claws drawing blood at the same time, the scream of the man begging for people to help as the fowl creatures began to do unspeakable things to him.
Emiliah pulled open her door, just has one of her three friends from earlier tried to bust in. The creature raced inside, only to be met with a quick and merciful death. Her satisfaction was short lived as the odour of the creatures blood was among one the foulest scent.
From somewhere else a huge plume of smoke started raise from what was sure to be even more goblin antics. Something even the most oblivious of hunters was sure to notice.
A foul stench permeated the air. The hunter that had been chasing her shouted out some nonsense. The stench grew stronger.
“No!” Wendi’s voice coming out louder than any humans should. “No Goblins are not good for eating! They wreck and poison good meat!” She let out another ear splitting screech before jumping back at the hunter who was closest to her. With far more strength than anything her size should poses, drug him to the ground.
“ We have to feast now, before the meat is tainted,” From outside the gloom of the trees, two tall, crouching figures came into the light. Mostly bone and muscle. Grey skin stretching tightly over their emaciated bodies.
“Thank you sir,” Said Wendi, “You are saving my parents….they are very. Very. Hungry,”
When the blood oath was done, she sighed and watched as the others walked away. She allowed one of the wolves to like her wound. For a moment. She truly wished she could have just killed them all.those witches have always been a problem for her and her plans. Especially Rayleth. She tried to be open minded about all the witches needs, despite not liking what they do or how they achieve it. But they were getting restless for sure.
She truly wished Alice was here...it had been some time since she appeared last. Or even Taran and Pahor...both of which she found to be almost like her own. But she never wanted Taran to see this, and Pahor was busy with things.
She noticed Hellena straggling behind, she moved towards her and said softly “I would like a potion that will rot the insides out. If that bitch who killed a child survives her patience mission, I would like a plan B.” She reached up and stroked Lucy once again. “Something that looks natural if you can.”
She looked Hellena in the eyes. “I also wanted to ask you if you made any headway on that recipy i was asking for?” She asked, glancing to Rebecca. She wanted to do something nice for her old friend...who was literally falling apart. She was going to need her more than ever in the upcoming plan.
She glanced down to talk to Tod, but remembered she sent him with Taran. She would have to do it later. She wanted to speak to her inner council about how they were to handle this, or at least her plan on making it so the Hunters wont come looking for blood.
A little bird landed on her shoulder that pulled her attention away. It informed her that an evil fog was rolling into the forest… She grew worried. Taran was out there, and that thing decided to come back to her woods. But if anything happened, she would be able to get there quickly… Tod would tell her…
Placing a hand on Hellena’s arm. “Don't go into the woods tonight gathering any more herbs...it’s too dangerous out there.”She said with a bit of worry in her voice, she looked down at her hand which was still bloody. She looked slightly sheepish to her, “Do you...have anything to help with this?” She asked softly.
Double checking to make sure the candles were all out, Rowyn looked around her place one last time before heading out her door. As she was locking her door she heard muffled screams behind her. Slipping her key into her bag, she grabbed two of her throwing knives and turned. The sound seemed to be coming from the alleyway that lead to the main street from her side street. Keeping her steps silent she walked closer until she could peer around the corner.
On the ground appeared to be one of the drunks that hung out in the area, on top of him were four goblins. It looked like the wendigos would have to wait. Without hesitation and a flick of her wrist, a knife went soaring through the air and embedded itself in the skull of a goblin killing it swiftly. The goblin collapsed to the ground as she drew another knife to replace the one now in the goblins skull. The blood from the wound now permeating its stench through the air.
As the goblin collapsed dead, the other three goblins noticed her presence and got off the drunk man who was now a dead, drunk man it would seem. The goblins ran at her all at once to overwhelm her. Though it didn’t go as planned for the creatures. She nimbly jumped up, landing a foot on one’s head and jumping off of said goblin’s head, knocking it to the ground as she jumped to the ground, landing crouched. Her back was still facing the goblins but she was aware of their movements. She planned for it to happen this way.
A goblin, seeing it as an opportunity, ran right over its fallen friend and jumped on her back. Prepared for this Rowyn grabbed the small creature and used its own momentum to flip it over her back and onto the ground, swiftly stabbing it through both eyes and ending its life. She was working on removing her knives when one of the other goblins tackled her from the side. She lost her grip on her knives as she fell onto her back the goblin on top of her. She then felt the other goblin also climb on top of her.
Through her boots Rowyn felt the second goblin trying to bite her and she growled, glaring at the one closests to her that she was holding away from her as she reached for a knife. Of course the creature was like a hyper child against her gloved hand and kept wriggling free. So she quickly have to catch it with her other one, giving up on the knife for the time being. Rowyn knew she’d probably have to use the sword but doing so made her more susceptible to Rakshasa taking control, she was not in the mood to fight him over her own body right now. But if it came down to it she would use the sword.
Bending her arm, she held it up to block the creature, and the goblin decided to bit down on her jacketed forearm. She took this moment to reach down and grab one of her knives before plunging it into the neck of the goblin. She groaned in disgust as the blood got on her jacket, Rowyn knew how much the smell lingered from experience and knew this jacket was done for. She removed the knife and tossed the body to the side at the same time she kicked the other goblin in the head and knocked it off of her before throwing the knife into its head as she sat up.
“Damn goblins. Ruined my jacket. That was my last one…” Rowyn muttered to herself as she went and collected her knives from the corpses of the goblins. Her last stop was by the corpse of the drunk. She knelt besides him and looked at his wide open eyes. It was clear by the state of his body that he had passed. Closing his eyes and giving him one last look, she stood and walked through the alley to the main road. She walked over to a well nearby and took her bag off before taking off her jacket. She threw her jacket down before pulling the bucket out.
Placing the bucket on the ground she walked to where she put her bag pulling out a rag. Rowyn returned to the bucket and dipped the rag in the water before using it to clean her knives and then clean her jacket. She was going to stuff it in her bag and hope it didn’t stink too bad. As she slipped her knives into their spots on her thighs she looked to her bag to see another goblin rummaging through it. Right as she was going to do something about it, another goblin came running by chasing a chicken. The goblin rummaging through her bag grabbed her bag and began chasing after the other goblin and the chicken.
“Oh you have got to be-” Rowyn stood up and took off running, leaving her jacket behind but making sure she had all her daggers. Chasing after the goblins she managed to throw a knife and take out the first goblin, the one not with her bag, swiftly collecting the knife from its body before beginning the chase for the other goblin shortly after.
Shortly, they were getting closer into the main part of town and the number of goblins was increasing. She could see them attacking others, them fighting them off as they did. Rowyn grimaced and swiftly threw her knife. With just her luck it flew by the goblin just as it tripped over her bag and hit the chicken instead.
‘Ha, you messed up!’ Rakshasa laughed in her mind knowing her fuck up meant he would get his fun soon. Meanwhile the goblin looked at the now dead chicken, its final bakaw catching the attention of a few other goblins who now were all watching as the goblin with her bag dropped the bag and charged her. Them following suit.
Rowyn simply cursed Rakshasa and her luck as she pulled out two more knives. ‘Stupid Chicken’ She thought as she began fighting the group of goblins.
Flint slowly pushed himself up. He was glad Saph was here, but with the danger of wendigos being so close, he didn’t have time to mess with her. He was glad she just accepted not to go. He looked around as the healer decided to join, along with a few others. He sat there silently trying to recoup as fast as he could. He needed to get out there too, he had to show them where he saw them.
Bobby looked to everyone who agreed to come, and nodded, most of them he knew could handle themselves. Though he didn’t know Andvari enough. But with the amount of people going he should be fine. ”Fine, we can use it. You need silver tip bolts though. You better be a great shot” While the youngest ‘hunter’ decided to head out to do research.
He looked to Sanjin who asked what he needed, despite being an odd one, he was smart enough to ask. ”I got the stuff here if you need it. Windigos are weak to fire and to kill it with a silver weapon to the heart. “
There was an explosion outside suddenly, and he could hear yelling. He quickly hobbled to the tavern door and pushed it open. Suddenly he heard more yelling and screaming, citizens were running around being chased and attacked by a horde of goblins. “Mother of God.” He looked back into tavern and yelled. ”EVERYONE OUT! SEREN’S FOLLEY IS BEING ATTACKED BY GOBLINS! QUICKLY NOW!” He said as he bent down and grabbed one trying to run into his Tavern by the neck and slammed it’s head into the hardwood door frame, crushing it’s skull instantly.
Flint heard the screaming and pushed himself off the ground. Both of the drinks he had seemed to be helping as he was no longer dizzy, that and thanks to his curse. While he was still weak, he felt strength back in his limbs. He stumbled quickly over to the counter. Reaching over and grabbing a bunch of arrows. Normal ones as Goblins were easy to kill. He quickly stocked 24 arrows by slipping them into his quiver, and grabbing five more. He held them in his left hand, along with his bow, tips down.
He also grabbed Betsy. Bobby’s axe. Making his way over to him, as others were rushing out and handed it off. Bobby nodding in thanks. He knew saying Flint should stay behind was foolish. Both walked out, Flint nocking one of the arrows in his hand. He pulled the string back and aimed, wincing at the strain on his left arm. He aimed for the batch of Goblins raping a poor woman, as a few hunters rushed to her. He fired off a shot, then quickly pulled another from his hand and fired another. Both arrows flying by the hunters that were running towards her and into two different goblins. The other five around the woman stopped and looked up. Noticing the hunters running towards them and forgot about the woman.
Bobby didn’t move far, because of his leg, but he bellowed challenges, and profanitys. Trying to draw as many as he could towards him with his racket. Using his axe like a club and crushing the heads of the little fuckers and sending them flying into others.
Flint scanned for a clear shot, and noticed the woman who healed him getting rushed by a group of Goblins. In about ten seconds he fired off three shots, picking off the ones closest to Rowyn. Suddenly he had one that jumped on his back, it’s claws digging into his shoulders. Yelling in surprise, he slammed his back into the wall behind him. Crushing the goblin against him, and the building….but he put too much strength into it and crushed the Goblin while imbedding him into the wood.
Matrim Heading down the mountain, at the edge of Seren’s Folly
Smoke caught Matrim’s attention, smoke coming from not very far. It did not seem of the ordinary type, and had started too suddenly to be normal. “Town, or bonfire? Or town in a bonfire?” he wondered under his breath. He began to run towards the smoke’s direction, slightly glad to be finally back on trail. Whatever it was, he would arrive soon enough.
He was slightly out of breath as he began to hear noise to his left. Curious, he looked over to see a mass of goblins also running towards the smoke. “Goblins?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Of all the creatures to see, he was not expecting goblins. “Goblins!” he yelled out, now excited. Goblins! It was perfect! Perfect perfect! Some of the goblins had apparently heard his shout, and were now approaching him. Matrim once again attached the spearhead to his staff, and looked at the smoke and then the goblins who were approaching.
Upon reconsideration, Matrim was beginning to regret his excited shout. He had attracted a few goblins. Nevermind, a large amount of goblins. Oh god, how many goblins were there?
“Mistakes were made!” Matrim shouted to himself before running down the mountain towards the smoke. He ran fast, but goblins had a tendency of sometimes catching up. They would approach and leap towards him, and Matrim would have to stab the little shit before it could pin the hunter to the ground. If he fell at all during this moment, it would likely be over for him. Goblins were perverted bastards, and would ensure his death would be painful and embarrassing. No hunter wanted their gravestone to be: RIP this experienced hunter of great legend who killed something scary, then got raped and eaten by goblins of all things.
A wonderful root likely designed to ruin Matrim’s life suddenly caught his foot and sent him careening to the ground. Being on a slope Matrim rolled slightly before stopping and allowing him to curse the tree and rue the day it was planted before having to get up and run again. Unfortunately the fall was long enough to allow several goblins to catch up to him, one snatching and grabbing onto his leg. The grab sent Matrim back to the ground, who then stabbed the shitty goblin responsible for the fall. Two more goblins piled on, and Matrim drew a flintlock pistol and shot one right in the chest. The noise of the pistol going off sent harsh ear-splitting noise through his head due to the shot being way too close, but at least he murdered the goblin. The second goblin Matrim grabbed onto and shoved it off, allowing him to stand and stab the shit in the head. More goblins came and more goblins were slain. Matrim’s blood spilled out from multiple wounds from too close of encounters, especially on his legs.
By the time he got to the bottom of the mountain, he and his spear was soaked in both goblin blood and his own, and was not even close to done yet. More goblins came towards the hunter, and Matrim focused on keeping upright while ending the life of each little shit that dared approach him. He was near where the smoke was now, but couldn’t even concentrate on that as he continued fending off each and every goblin.
Aromull Outside Witches Paradise Near whoever is close
The thrill of going out to witness the hunting of wendigos was temporarily delayed due to the strange incursion of a goblin attack on the town. Hunters began to rush out and combat the new threat, as all were easily able to capably slay a multitude of the curious creatures.
Aromull followed behind Flint out the door, still holding out his notepad. Goblins were a measly group of rather strange creatures that he technically already had a chapter on, but he was never one to turn down too much information, especially with an attack of this caliber. Creature seems to be easily distracted with its current task, and fall for the simplest of taunts such as bellowing out a challenge, he wrote while gazing at Bobby who was currently fighting off multiple goblins with ease.
“I wonder why goblins would attack here. These creatures don’t ever seem to like approaching towns, especially large ones such as this. You think they were riled up somehow, or perhaps driven by desperation? Or maybe there was a rival horde or monstrous creature who drove them out of their lands. Wendigos are unlikely, but it is a possibility I suppose. What do you think?” He asked, glancing over at Flint, who was currently crushing a goblin that made the odd decision to jump on the veteran hunter’s back. It was a bit of overkill, and the goblin was certainly dead after Flint rammed his back into the building.
“Very interesting method,” the scholar commented, who was still writing a few notes. Does not seem to care about or analyze threats, even obviously dangerous ones. This is perhaps due to a frenzied mode while in the moment of raids such as the current one I am witnessing. Death does not seem to matter to many, or is at the very least not considered. Overwhelming targets is the obvious tactic, and can be quite effective.
Aromull’s writing was cut a bit short as he became the target of one of the goblins. The goblin did not hesitate to jump at him, but missed aiming for the chest as the scholar took a small step backwards and instead landed on Aromull’s leg. Regardless of missing, the goblin decided to start digging in, slicing through Aromull’s pants and painfully clawing at his legs. Aromull gritted his teeth and halted himself before a curse exited his mouth, cursing was not very gentlemanlike. “Oh very well,” he said unamused. He had been hoping to write a few more observations before assisting, but the number of goblins was too great for Aromull to be ignored entirely by the creatures.
A swift kick from the scholar’s foot set back the goblin a few paces, giving him enough time to tuck away his notepad and unsheath his sword. The weapon was of shortsword variant, about three-quarters the length of a regular longsword, seemed to be of a delicate and expensive brand, and would be considered by many hunters too clean. Aromull had to admit he hadn’t used the shortsword in quite some time, as many expeditions with other hunters had deemed him unnecessary to ever actually fight, which he was always quite alright with.
The goblin was back on its feet and jumped again at Aromull, who was prepared this time with a simple jab into the creature’s chest. The goblin was stopped and fell back onto the ground, wounded but not dead. Two more goblins nearby suddenly leaped out at Aromull, one slashing at and trying to pin his right arm down. “They seem to be attempting to restrain my limbs and allow others to take advantage, how interesting!” he analyzed as he sliced at the goblin who was holding the arm. “Unfortunate for it to go for the arm without the weapon.” The goblin previously injured was back on its feet, and leaped right at Aromull and was able to knock his balance off and take him down on the ground. Aromull began to wrestle with the creature, trying to get his shortsword in the correct direction to impale the creature. “Ah, foolish of me to underestimate them!” he commented as he continued to struggle, not seeming very worried or stressed over his precarious situation.
At first the not-yet-hunter had been quite happy about Bobby accepting him as a member of the party although the addition of 'you better be a good shot' was a rather heavy weight in his stomach. Then however it seemed that hell broke loose and that he'd have his opportunity to give his training a real world try much earlier than expected -- or hoped for.
Andvari lifted himself from his chair as quickly as possible and rushed through the crowd towards one of the smaller windows, trying to get a good view of what was going on outside. Given that it was rather dark already he couldn't see that much at first, but once his eyes had adapted a little the man could spot something. Moving... things... that definitely were no humans and thus did not belong here. In fact the more his eyes adapted the more ugly details became visible, starting from the creatures' weird constitution and ending with the wicked set of ruined teeth each of them seemed to expose. Now if those would find their way into anybody's flesh bleeding to death on the spot probably was preferrable to a slow and excruciating death due to some kind of alienating infection.
The question was: Where was his own place in his mess ? The urge to do something almost overwhelmed him, but in this case doing something could only mean to start fighting back and he wasn't equipped for that. Andvari wasn't worried about his crossbow, but much more about how he'd be able to reach it in one piece. After all he had not rented a room in this tavern, but settled down at a free spot almost on the outskirts of Seren's Folly. Now this wasn't a particularly large village, but given the hostilities unfolding on the street the distance was still much more considerable than he would have liked it to be.
Andvari opened the door until there was a gap barely large enough, took a deep breath, went through and started running as fast as he could. He wasn't exactly the quickest when it came to getting up to speed, but with his tremendous legs he could maintain a very high one. Fast enough for not getting caught by goblins who were not expecting another opponing in their frenzy, or maybe were even a little afraid of him. Still there was plenty of reason for Andvari to be happy about a door that he could slam shut right behind himself. One of the goblins who had been on the pursuit was in fact still trying to get in, frantically scratching at the wooden panels.
Inside his hut, Andvari hurried to don his armor. Most of it was studded leather, but particularly exposed parts like the area around his throat and his shoulders and also part of his breast were protected by additional light steel plating. So were his feet -- nothing fancy, but much better than going out there again in the simplest of cloth he had been wearing just before. The goblin had still not given up as his screams and scratching continued to produce very discomforting sound effects, but he had to try and concentrate on preparing his crossbow. It was a large machine of warfare, its richely decorated 'head' resembling that of a strange fish or bird as it seemed to be crying out at whatever the weapon was pointed at. The bolts were equally huge, but originally had not come with any kind of oil or silver. Andri in fact had never been able to tell his son what their tips were made of, but he had given a bunch of them a bath in molten silver so they would also work against special creatures. Not really knowing what was most effective against goblins, Andvari simply dumped all of them into his quiver and loaded the first one right away.
Now there was this door with at least one of these foul beasts in front of it. This would be a shot at point blank range, hopefully impossible to miss. Slightly shaking, Andvari's hand reached for the handle in order to pull the door open abruptly. The goblin appeared to be momentarily confused about the sudden disappearance of the obstacle in its path, allowing for man opposing it to pull the trigger without making much of an effort to aim.
There was no scream, not even as much as a hissing noise caused by the bolt traveling through the air as the distance simply had been too short for it to last long enough. Part of the golbin's body was virtually ripped off and burst into a dirty-red cloud with an almost unbearable stench to it. Andvari could feel his stomach revolting as he tried to locate where the bolt had gone. It apparently had punched right through the creature and dug itself deep into the ground. Yet Andvari knew that the enormous power of this thing partly came at the cost of a rather tedious rearming procedure that'd be better started now, even if he would have preferred puking or at least getting away as fast as possible from the open carcass.
As he was preparing the next shot Andvari could see something worrying though: Wasn't that the house of Emiliah he could see over there ? He had spotted the huntress go in and out there before having met her this evening, so he knew it had to be hers. And the door was open, so goblins could go in and out or maybe already were inside. With his weapon finally at the ready again he rushed over, eager to see if everything was alright or not.
Ryleth was seething. He could focus only on how to destroy Alexina. A head-on attack would be suicide. Poison might do it but he had no brewer’s gift. Besides, he didn’t need her dead necessarily. He needed her gone, banished or exiled. He needed someone to turn the coven on her. The only way he could achieve that was to stay the course he was on and hope the hunters were as stupid as he believed them to be. Worse, he needed to be more than just stupid. They had to be cruel as well. A witch would have to burn at the stake before the coven could ever turn against Alexina. His mind began to wander around. Who would be the proper sacrifice? They had to be completely expendable yet unconditionally loved. Only then would Alexina’s failure be taken seriously enough.
It was Ryleth’s state of mind that allowed Anghara to sneak up on him. She pushed herself against his back as she asked her questions. It was what he needed though. A distraction. From the stairs, he was heading towards two figures appeared from the darkness. Skeletons. He ignored Anghara entirely for a moment as he handed over the corpse to his minions. As quickly as they came, then went back down the stairs with the body.
Ryleth was not done with the teasing witch though. As he handed over the corpse he was quick to take Anghara’s hand that trailed the blood. The grip was firm and strong yet didn’t attempt to hurt her. With his other arm, he was quick to free himself and turned. Forcing Anghara to make a pirouette. After which he was quick to get close again. He put his free arm around her. The two faced each other now. Ryleth gave Anghara a sly smile. “Ever the tease.” He said as he led them both in a slow dance in the cold corridors. “But you know you can’t have a witch’s corpse.” He inched closer to her, narrowly missing her lips as he moved sideways. With his hot breath on her neck he whispered in her ear: “If you’re free tonight, I might just show you how naughty I really am.”
