The attack had begun, and already one of their kin was taken down. The kobolds screamed their battle cries to the air, those well versed in draconic would quickly understand these yells to be nothing but gibberish, much like how a cornered human would release a similar cry for power hidden within them. Two leapt at the druid's animal form with daggers, using the simultaneous nature of these attacks to their advantage. Both of the blades cut through the hide of the tiger, blood belonging to the wild shape gushing out of the wounds while a rain of small pebbles added insult to injury. One may have flown too low, deflecting to the underbelly of the beast with little to no force remaining after hitting a bump in the floor of the cavern, but the other two came in with force, pummelling away at the flesh of the assailant that had taken point before the raging green man. And torn asunder one of their own to boot.

In punishment for their neglect, the hail of blows leveled down upon an all too familiar physique, the huntsman had swept in with his great blade in hand. The reaping strike, like another sweep of a scythe through golden grain, came against that thing leftmost; the first kobold unfortunate enough to be skirting the edge of the old, salted magician in his alternate form. Brannor dared not pause to observe just how presumably dead the creature was, the tension on the blade from the strike easing at the end of the swing, rather the ferocious man focused in upon the counterbalance. One of the two dagger-bearers was now either dead or presumably horrendously wounded from a mortal blow and that would come to free the fellow beast of prey upon from the tide of attacks leveled against them.

Shifting stance again, adjusting the heft of the two-handed sword, the wilder sneered. They would cull these things just as they did the last, then put to death the scaled hounds. But that was not what made him grimace so, rather it was the empathy shared with this particular incarnation of Torus. It was all too eerily familiar and in the wake of the bloody wounds, it brought to mind the aspiring paladin's own sufferings in similar shapes against these things, these monsters. For all of what made him up as somewhere between the two worlds, the day of mortals and the night of beasts, this parallel could not be ignored. So as a result, the man's hungering eyes flicked to the next target.

There and then he moved among the stone slinging prey with the same viciousness of a ravenous cat inside a hen house, and set to claw, tear, and rip asunder anything of these creatures that was within his reach.


@Hekazu@Ryonara@Zverda@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen

Parum followed the rear With Torus behind her, but Kyra ended up triggering a trap that caused rocks to fall from above. "I knew it-" She was barely able to say as she slashed some stones out of the way almost by instinct. When Parum tells this was a story she would say that her quit wits and cunning speed allowed her to swiftly cut the stones out of her path without a scratch on her, but in reality a few sizable rocks did manage to hit her, but none of the larger and more threatening ones fortunately. With that trap gone Parum walked up the rest of the stairs and spotted her party in pitch combat with the kobolds. She needed to conserve her magic for now so it'll just be simple cantrips as she plucked her viol and targeted one of the kobolds attacking Torus. "Wux rechan tonashi vur slathalin hefoc tonashi!" She snarled as she tried to find some cover to hide behind.

Ignoring the boulders she had accidentally tripped, Kyra rushed into the new battlefield. She saw Brannor hew down one kobold, another next to Torus in his tiger form. Scanning her prey she noticed one kobold who had the audacity to try and patch up it's fellow vermin that she had shot. "Oh how rich. Now they care about the wounded and weak." Kyra drew her arrow back on her bow and aimed for that kobold in particular. There was still too many for them Kyra's taste however; she might have to commit to melee with a dagger and her hunting sword just to kill them more efficiently. "Patiences Kyra. They will be be dead before the day is over. Either them or us."

The battle continued as Orchid's rage fueled his body, bringing him closer towards the enemy alongside Brannor. More winged kobolds were about to take to the air and Orchid had no interest in letting them stay above him. Charging towards one he lunged at the winged creature with reckless abandon, chopping his blade down to cleave the creature in twain with his machete. Cleaving through scale, flesh, and bone, Orchid snarled and looked at a nearby kobold, using whatever momentum he had left to get into the thick of things. He wanted them to swarm Orchid and become the center of their attention, allowing the others relative safety to pick off the kobolds or focus on the more evasive ones.

The winged kobolds did not all choose to take flight at this moment, one deciding it would still be for the better to remain grounded and make attempts at defending an ally. It stepped rushed to a sling wielding kobold, balancing its running with the pair of wings at their back, bringing out a dagger in the cover of those leathery features. But alas, it wouldn't be enough of a surprise, for despite the fact they had an ally as the main target of the opponent they failed to pierce through the defences of the paladin, the adjusted armour ensuring that Brannor would go unharmed by this attack.

The other two that were still capable of fighting would go through with their earlier plan, picking up large rocks that they had been holding on to and taking into the air of the cavern. Each chose a target that was near to them and tossed said rocks at those marks, Orchid and Torus both getting their own share of this battery. Solid hits made even more so by the help of the fellow kobolds blocking the movement of the targets needed for evasion, and so the tiger would endure a nasty hit to the neck, while Orchid would make it away with a hit at just the point where their shield ceased to protect. Both remained up in the air then, judging their next move from the figurative perch they struck from.

The lizards were really starting to get on Torus's nerves, a rumbling growl bubbling from deep within his chest as blood matted its fur. In a near blind rage, he lashed out with claws at the nearest Kobold, intent on taking the closest one down much like he had the first. There were too many for his liking and if he had anything to say about it there would be one less, batted away by a large paw. Something deep inside him wanted to rip, tear and destroy, but for now the claws were enough. He had no intention on giving into the more primal side of this forms nature, not yet and preferably no ever. The last thing anyone needed was a druid losing itself to the animal it became, a wounded, mindless beast was far more dangerous in an enclosed and trapped area even if he did not have much strength left.

The claws of the tiger ripped at the flesh of the kobold still suffering the aftershocks of magically infused mockery, its moment of weakness mercilessly exploited by the predator who tried his best to not succumb to those very instincts that drove it to act the way it just had. The numbers of the foe dwindled once more with a target struck out of the picture, and the rest of the lot were not taking this all that well. No, the pack mentality of the small lizards led them to act in a manner most befitting to heavy losses. They attempted to run.

Great haste overtook two sling wielding kobolds, both of them darting off towards the stairway that the adventurers had come from. The path of the one to make its attempt away from Brannor was however cut short by the bulk of the lycanthrope's blade, the man slashing the smaller creature apart and sending it to suffer a quick death in immediate shock. Yet in this moment of spilled blood the other kobold darted past, the blade not ready to seek purchase in the second target to pass. It put everything it had in its running steps, huffing and puffing as it passed the tiger from a safe distance. It would have none of this!

Despite its speedy effort, it stalled momentarily at the fork in the road. Options were up, where it could only assume it would find the corpses of other companions, but perhaps safety. Down, then? It was another option, but it did seem hesitant to pick that either. The moment of deliberation was where an adventurer might strike upon it however, an ill advised decision to halt even for a second.

Brannor, not about to let the creature escape after hewing its partner, bolted with predatory glee after it. Particularly so after the growling strike arced back and narrowly missed the second would-be victim, ending another servant to this mysterious dragon-queen of the land. Greenest's vengeance was far from met however, and the outlander's heavy run despite his armor made him a force to be reckoned with in the pursuit; all the more so as the green cloak flowing behind him came to a brief stop as he prepared his next attack, the scaled creature's delay putting it in peril. In that moment it was not the only target but it was the only living one attempting to escape. With this in mind and the goal to see to it that none would suffer these monster's deeds any more, it was essential to kill them where they stood, pursue them where they fled, stalk them where they cowered, and hunt them where they went amiss.

Lifting the assisting hand back to the grip and pivoting upon the cave floor, the man's jaw and its rough outline tightened further; lip curling and snarling in an aggressive sneer. At times the huntsman wished these things would cower and beg, reasonably like their victims, but his heart would not allow his mind to entertain his thought. The gifts of the supernatural in him were far stronger than the wiles and whims of a mortal's twisting desires, making what could well have been pleasure for the crueler sorts into pure animal hunger. Each swing of the sword was as much an extension of the killing, carnivorous desire that laid within, the kind that was the burning, turning flame. It was not as strong or as passionate as it had been - now knowing it had greater game to appeal to such as the cultists and mercenaries - but kobold after kobold feeding the steel edge with their life and tinging the air with their sickly blood made it hard to resist falling into one's self.


@Hekazu@Ryonara@Zverda@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen

The group was doing a good job cutting down the numbers one-by-one, though Parum continued to bemoan the fact she did little to offer in terms of damage output. Everyone was dropping their foes in single hits while she barely seemed to be able to land most of her spells. But she had to keep her chin up and remain in the fight. Two of the winged kobolds flew into the air and casted stones onto her allies below; Kyra could take down one, so Parum would do her best to take out the other! She dropped her rapier down onto the ground for a moment so that she could draw her dagger from her belt. A blade of halfling make, perfect for throwing, which Parum proceeded to do as she moved out from cover as far as she could so she could hurl her dagger like a dart towards the kobold.

Having draw her dagger, Kyra dropped her bow and was about to draw her shortsword to engage in melee. However she saw Parum aim for the flying kobolds above and knew they would be a bigger threat thanks to their mobility. Her dagger fell short of hitting any creature but it wasn't so far that Kyra couldn't pick it up. Acting fast Kyra dashed towards the winged kobolds, hurling her first dagger at the same creature Parum targeted. She knew her first blade would sink into the flying vermin, and if it died she would pick up the dagger Parum threw and throw it at the other kobold. But if the first was still flying, she'd finish the job and make sure to finish it off.

A rock cracked against Orchid's head, but he didn't seem to be all too concerned as turned towards the perpetrator. He saw two winged kobolds in the air, one that fell thanks to Kyra's intervention. Now it was his turn. Growling Orchid rushed forward like some feral beast before suddenly turning towards the wall. With a mighty leap he jumped onto the wall and with another leap, pounced upon the winged kobold. It was nothing short of reckless which suited him just fine as Orchid's blade cleaved the winged kobold in half, likely showering the orc in blood and gore. He turned towards the final surviving Kobold and pointed at him with his blade, making it abundantly clear that he will not escape alive.

"You're next! Surrender and it'll be quick."

If the adventurers were thinking the way to get a pack animal to surrender to certain death was to point weapons at it with obvious intent to harm them, they would have a very interesting image of wildlife or even kobolds specifically in general. The little creatures may be cowards, and only have power in numbers, but they were built to cling on to life. It wasn't the objective for them to pass away with the smallest amount of pain that they could have, for they didn't think that far. This winged example, for instance, would be more likely to cash in the one in a million odds, and go for broke. Their life weighed against those of multiple adventurers. The dagger remained drawn and the wings spread in an attempt to intimidate, but what truly mattered was the follow-up move.

With Brannor having left its reach, the kobold with wings rushed towards the one that thought himself superior, raising the dagger against the unattended thigh of the roaring barbarian. The strike would land too, causing a nasty cut that most people would not be standing after. But for the man much too angry to even make not of it, it was just another wound to be added to a collection that he had been amassing for the last few days. Would some leave permanent marks? Would they be treated as marks of honour and glory, or failure? These were up to the half-orc, his green skin now tinted with red.

Torus went in for a bite attack with his neck victim, however it seemed that he had underestimated the creatures will to survive. While the bite itself made some form of connection, it was not the type of connection the near crazed being wished it to be. No, his teeth met something, but it was not flesh and blood that graced his tongue, but a surprisingly well timed block with a dagger. Teeth met metal and while it did no damage, it bought the creature the time it needed to take flight, if only temporary. No, it seemed this creature wanted to add insult to injury with the beast it now faced. Be in a brief stint of bravery, or simply a foolhardy attempt to gain an advantage over the creature it deemed fit to simply perch itself upon the head of the Large beast. This alone was enough to send Torus into a rage deeper than he had been in for the bloody injuries he now sported. Not only had this lizard opted to actually block instead of accepting its fate, now it was making fun of him? Making a mockery of the majestic beast he had become? If no one else killed it, Torus vowed to rend its flesh from bone with the teeth it had attempted to use only moments before.

The situation was not improving for the kobolds despite the last stand the one with the wings was making up in face of what could only be seen as certain death to come, and its less brave brethren decided to follow up with the original plan. It had two options, and it would choose to follow the one that it believed held most promise of safety, or at least backup. It rushed up the stairs, a heavy blade biting the stone floor behind its nimble steps, the little creature scrambling away from what threatened it to the best of its ability, luck remaining on its side for now.

Yet it wouldn't be left alone, for where it hopped over the fallen rocks in the stairs hewn to the stone leading back up to the area the adventurers had recently forfeited wholly clearing, the repeating clangs of heavy boots followed after it. Brannor held his blade on the side, ready to be brought for a strike but not in any position where it could end up snagged on something in order to keep up the speed. At the top area, the kobold had to climb over one particular rock that the woodsman could merely leap over with the grace of a lean predator, but the time it took to ready the blade again was too long, and the critter was already nearly on the move again. The chase was leading them towards the caged up drakes by the minute. He still had a chance to stop the kobold, but it would be up to the next swing. It was quite fast on its feet after all.

"Dammit all." Parum cursed as her dagger failed to hit it's mark. Doubt crept into her mind as blood pumped through her veins. Without her rapier she didn't have a very strong melee weapon, but what other range options did she have? Just keep insulting the gremlins and hope for the best? No! She couldn't just cower behind her allies and speak of her fears while they risked life and limb to fight evil! She knew she wasn't strong, nor was she particularly brave, but dammit if she was going to be useless. Even these kobolds showed more courage as one of the winged beasts dove down to attack Orchid while he had left himself open from his reckless leaping attack. Parum rushed forward, pulling her dagger from the kobold's corpse. Kyra had used Parum's known knife to finish what she started.

Ducking behind the big green brute the kobold's dagger was able to bypass his shield, but before the kobold could retract his blade Parum was already there. She struck swiftly and with keen precision as her dagger plunged into the kobold's neck, twisting it violently as she pulled the dagger out. She stepped away and looked towards the kobold Torus still fought, surprised to see him still alive. "Let's wrap this up quickly!"

The last kobold among the adventurers could not keep its resistance up any longer, and Orchid would find the wound upon himself avenged not by his own blade or the rending maws of Torus's tiger shape, but a thrust of a dagger from the bard whose height was the most similar to the small creature itself. The kobold cried an incomprehensible yowl of pain into the cave, the declaration of its mortality bouncing between the walls, ceiling and floor. Another soul sent away from this realm, one that had been devoted to the Dragon Queen or at least her cult. An improvement to the conditions of many, though a most unfortunate occurrence to the creature itself.

The others scrambled to hunt down the one remaining straggler, or to sweep away the corpses of those that remained. Kyra and Torus soon came to a wordless agreement, the hunter-priestess hopping on the druid's back, the pair soon rushing up the steps after Brannor. Orchid and Parum remained behind, at least the half-orc turning to gather the bodies into one distinct location, intent on looting them of what valuables the kobolds may possess. It would most likely be a rather unimpressive haul, but it would still be something. The upstairs crew would not be any more successful, the arrow that was fired went wide, too much of a safety buffer between Brannor and the line of fire.

Yet the kobold would not make it to its destination, the rush that was aimed for the keys hanging from the hook on the wall cut short by loss of vim and vigour inflicted upon it by the heavy blade. Last staggering steps the creature took left a bloody trail behind it, a clean cut having removed a fair deal of its torso behind. The kobold never made it past fifteen feet from the strike, collapsing without a sound next to the stairs. The threat from the barracks was dealt with. But still the cavern held unexplored nooks and crannies. Not the least the one passageway this particular example had deliberated.

Huffing and darting his eyes around, Orchid was ready for more enemies to show up. But before too long things were peaceful once more, at least until they go to the next room and find something else to fight. Letting out a sharp breath from his nose Orchid calmed down, put his shield away, and went about the dirty business of moving bodies out of the way and pillaging their gear. Kobolds didn't really have much on them and frankly they were too tiny and thin to bother making hides out of, but hopefully their own personal possessions were more valuable. Weapons, armor, knickknacks, keys, whatever they had on them Orchid took. He also made sure to check the room itself, finish off any kobolds that may or may not have expired, and otherwise continue his calm and collective looting. He patched himself up with whatever clean cloth was available either from his own pack or ideally the kobold's possessions, staunching the bleeding but doing nothing to heal his wounds. His injuries were far from grievous but knowing that there's only more battles ahead, he would like some medical aid.

Torus let out a huff and shook his large head before sitting down and beginning to lick at his wounds, he was lucky to still be in the form he was in now he was sure, but he'd keep it for now. He had no words to share with anyone at the moment, especially after his particularly embarrassing miss only seconds ago. The idea that a Kobold would have jumped on him in an attempt to avoid his strike was irritating at best, embarrassing at worse, and he did not want to talk about that at all. As he went to work cleaning blood out of his fur his eyes tracked Orchid's movements, a near bored look on his face now that the fighting was over. The moments of excitement were always so brief and once the adrenaline of a fight left it was always so tiring. For now though, they needed to make their way out of the cavern to somewhere safe. As weak as the enemy was, too many battles would prove to be far deadlier no matter how weak the opponent was.

Having plucked the fallen kobold from the floor just as the other free hand did the set of keys which had been left sagging upon the cave wall, Brannor returned with quarry in hand. While not a monumental kill, the huntsman was still proud of his doings, just as any would expect a predatory beast in man's clothing to be. His ironclad fist dropped the lifeless, fresh kill back into its slump and the remaining hand tossed the keys on to the ground between them all, setting the metal clattering across the floor before he shaking off his stained armor. From there his eyes surveyed the remaining pile of bodies that the half-blood, Orchid, had created given his crowded up figure next to them and parting through what was left of their gear. Likewise he shot a glance to the badly battered tiger, who in the moment quietly licked his wounds; less the old wizard he appeared to be earlier and something so familiar now.

The green warden did not spend much further thought on that, at least not now, as the wake of the hunt and kill - the calm instilled in him - sated that side of his heart. Although, admittedly, the man was not so certain he ever wanted it to be at this rate. After all they had done in the past few days and what he had been capable of doing, with more still needing to be done, perhaps the human element was not near as great as the gifted side of him. Certainly the Pale Lady was stronger than the flesh, the divine after all, and that was what was needed now if they were to continue fighting the children of dragons and the beasts themselves, but surely there was a reason the paladin had a foot in both worlds; some part man, beast, and divine.

Nodding, he continued his surveying stare in the damp, dank cave and cut out the overwhelming earth-touched scent of blood that filled his lungs. From there he offered what he could of himself in an almost casual sense, noting, "I can mend some injuries, whatever you cannot bind."

Honesty and sincerity forthcoming, it was more clear what he meant under the surface. He was not a healer, not in the truest of senses, and his role was to be the claws and fangs, the blade, of nature's call. Yet at the same time he was gifted enough to stanch some of the suffering they had incurred, but only just enough. Really more than anything all the man could hope for was that they could recuperate the best they could first before needing his aid.


@Hekazu@Ryonara@Zverda@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen