Kyra stopped by the kobold, taking off it's dagger to slice it's throat. While Brannor's blade no doubt killed it, Kyra was not going to risk it. These creatures are conniving. As her breath steadied she followed the others back to the previous room. She had sustained no injuries, fortunately, but everyone seemed fairly dented up. Gathering her dagger and arrows Kyra called everyone to gather together. "I wish we could take another chance to rest, but this place isn't safe. We've made too much noise, they may send someone to check. So let us take the initiative and strike first. Now come here, allow me to mend our wounds." Once they came together Kyra channeled divinity to heal everyone, though it was only enough to help close their wounds and deal with some aches and pains. It wasn't much, but at least it didn't use up what little spells she had left.

"Gather your resolve and keep your eyes peeled. There could be another trap ahead or an ambush." Kyra says as she tighten the string to her longbow and pulled out an arrow. They had to clear this in one go, or else the survivors might flee with any evidence of what they were doing, or worse get reinforcements. There's no telling what they'll run into next so Kyra crept close to the next entrance, listening carefully for any signs of more kobolds or other humanoids.

There could be traps ahead, or even an ambush. These were the words that the adventurers used to keep each other on their toes for the duration of their break, while the two that would guard them chose to keep their closest watch towards the path that they had come from. Not a wholly unwise decision by any means, what with the drakes certainly residing in said place. They might have a set of keys for them, but they had no way of knowing if it was the only set of keys. Yet there had been something wrong in the steps going downwards. The prints on them had not been clear. It was like someone had messed with them, even if it was not deliberate. The realisation would strike too late, as simultaneously with the first sign of trouble two and two were put together. A flying kobold had flown past the tracks, mixing them up as they passed. So the people that were deeper knew they were here. And were on approach.

In a quite unforeseen manner of greeting however, instead of a zealous charge at the intruders, a strong male voice called out from behind the first corner of the stairs heading down. "We know you are there. I will step out now, and if you have any sense in those heads of yours you will not be opening fire", he informed the adventurers of their current predicament, and did as he had suggested. A man sporting muscle rivalling that of the half orc and beard woven together in braids, equipped with protection in form of many heavy furs and an axe definitely not fit for woodcutting held over his shoulder, its great blade shining in torchlight coming from someone behind him. "Cyanwrath has summoned the champion of Greenest. Follow. We know you are one of them", he would resume, giving them the last moment to consider how to react to this.

There was a rather low growl in response to the appearance of the axe wielding man, they had not had the time needed to rest and gather themselves before a potential challenge reared its ugly head once more. While he himself was not too far gone outside of this form, he was not entirely sure about his other comrades. Despite his weakened state, healed a bit by Kyra, he stood up tall and planted his feet as golden eyes focused on the man before them, ready to leap forward should anyone with him deem it fit to fight rather than agree and follow deeper within the den of those whom they deemed an enemy. Sure this form would probably not be able to properly survive a hit before being forced to melt away, but it was better than having to deal with this man in his normal form, or wasting the ability to turn into another for the time being. No, he would use this tiger for the time being until it could no longer fight or until they were safe, chances were it would be forced from him though.

"Blood and damnation..." Kyra cursed as a voice called out to them. She was foolish to think they'd actually have a chance to rest. They should have used the time to attack them before they could prepare a defense. Now surely they'd be ready for them. Damned if they do, damned if they don't. She was sure that everyone would chew her ear off about if it they survived. But she'll listen to them later. From her location Kyra drew an arrow and released it, sending it flying to the warrior. Her action would hopefully silently let everyone know exactly what she had planned. "Leave no survivors."

Orchid was cleaning up his weapons when the man suddenly arrived. Holding his weapon at the ready and he got ready for a fight, and sure enough Kyra opened fire with her bow. ”Doriya!” Orchid let out a hearty roar as he charged the man, swinging his sword with both hands to cleave his face off. Orchid didn’t attack recklessly yet, wanting to test and see what this man was capable of before he allowed himself to dedicate what little energy he had left to a full offense.

”Oh gods these fools are going to get us all killed!” Parum gasped as Kyra and Orchid started attacking the messenger. Not that she had any illusion that they wouldn’t have to fight, but this removed any chance they had for negotiations. Still it was too late to back out now. She drew her viol, plucking a cord to cast a spell, however she held the charge for just a moment. She was going to wait until the very last second before she’d cast it, hopefully maximizing the damage her allies can do.

The immediate aggression from the adventurers certainly was not unexpected, for the opposition was already on the move the moment the first arrow was let loose. Yet them being ready had not been something the adventurers would have forgotten either, and so the first arrow that was let loose would find purchase at the hip of the hide armour of their opponent, sticking out from his side while he bared his teeth and begun to slip the large shape of his axe down his right shoulder, preparing to strike back at the first opportunity. The free one was used to blunt the worst of the half-orc's vicious strike, the wrathful blade thunking against the thick protection of the axe-wielder's shoulder. The man released a grunt, but that was all. His axe was swinging through the air in a retaliatory strike before any other form of harm came from the adventurers.

And if the machete of the half-orc had delivered a firm blow, the adversary was no stranger to bloodletting either. The wicked blade scraped a long slice of skin off of the half-orc's side, it being a small miracle it had not sunken deeper and delivered him unto death's door. "Ignore the summons! So be it!" the man bellowed from the bottom of his lungs, another two sets of steps rushing from behind him, up the stone staircase. The two other arrivals, dressed and armed largely the same were differentiated by one carrying a lantern with its hood up on his belt, and the other to follow with a grimy tassel at the end of the axe and a scar over his left eye, barely leaving him with both eyes functional still.

"Cyanwrath!" a single call behind the last one to arrive should already tell plenty. Had these people accepted, there would have been no need to call for the boss. And so the group begun to turn to the fallback plan immediately. Both warriors pushed past Orchid, the scar faced one carrying their axe high, but even before him the other approached the tiger behind the green skinned male. The weapon of the lantern carrier was brought down with terrifying force, and the shape of the beast would be subjected to a fearsome blow. It wasn't wholly clear if the Druid's magic could hold against the slash of the axe, but even if it could not much would remain for protection.

The last one to enter had taken the risk of being struck as he advanced, and that risk wpukd be realised as Orchid's machete cut at his waistguard, trimming fur and hacking off the topmost layer. Yet the man beneath would not bleed as a result. He did stop dead in his tracks with his eyes flitting about in a fit of near paranoia, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. What threat was out there? But with a shake of his head, he would soon resume his rush, even if it was left shorter than intended, much further than his weapon's length from the archer cleric.

There was no hesitation or delay the moment the hostilities were met, but the predatory aggression in the man's soul stirred. He took one step forward before the surge of animal wrath overcame him. It was instantaneous, like being thrust out from the dingy cave they had been plumbing into the beating sun, and all it wished to do now was strike back, much more ferociously than it had prior. The little dragonkin and the drakes? They did not evoke this supernatural rage but now was different, distinctly different. So with a shifting of form and a labored snarl, the predatory form was manifest again as it strained the very bonds of thinly veiled humanity and ultimately broke them.

Far stronger, far faster, it carried forward with defiant ease despite the armor it wore, all the while its eyes burned with intent as the moonlit halo of silvery power drifted off its changed shape. The tiger of a man gave a guttural snarl, its dark lips teasing up and its coarse whiskers splayed, ears drawn back the moment it intercepted the front of the conflict. From there, balancing itself upon large, pawed feet, it provided a sweeping area it could strike between its great scale and the reach of a striped limb; anything and everything that threatened them it would strike out at with vicious abandon.


@Hekazu@Ryonara@Zverda@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen

This form was entirely too weak, the weight of the creature he had become weighing him down as he tried to lash out at the being before him, but was too sluggish as he easily dodged the bite. That axe had done more damage to the form than he had thought, but at least he was hanging on by a thread for the moment, a thin thread, but it held all the same. However, maybe it was time to switch to something different and a little more bothersome for those that would attempt to attack them. Though, this looked like it might be a fight they should have tried to weasel away from considering now they would have to deal with the one in charge. So tired... all he wanted to do was rest, this non-stop fighting was going to get someone killed, and it wouldn't just be of those whom they were fighting. Sure he had been ready to continue to fight, but who in their right mind would have actually wanted to keep going after the beatings?

The tiger's ferocious assault was met not only with a dodge from his opponent, but the handle of the axe pushed the clutch of the jaws further from the combatant. The weapon was being turned into another strike, but there would still be time to react, not to mention the many other things that would have the time to take place just as well. For as much as the three adversaries may have been, their number was now joined by one more name. It wouldn't be a surprise to any to see the gleaming scales of blue on approach, but the fierceness in the half-dragon's gaze as it met with that of Brannor was much stronger. It was not simply a feral impulse. He was here with a purpose.

The half-dragon locked eyes with the transformed paladin, huffing sparks of electricity through his nostrils as he hefted his greatsword into a battle ready position after his exit from the tunnel, still pushing his way past Orchid while his orders cut through the air in the common tongue. "If it comes to this, then it will! Slay everyone but the champion! He is mine!" Cyanwrath roared. "I hope you have learnt how to fight properly since our last encounter…" the booming voice lowering to something more of a growl as the man's scale covered digits opened one at a time, grasping the hilt of the blade again afterwards. He had a target. And he would not let anyone stand between him and it. Not even the target himself.

More enemies joined the battle, including that dishonorably cur Cyanwrath himself. Oh how Kyra would love to send some arrows into him herself. However the threat his cronies would pose to her allies were a more pressing issue, since they weren’t like the usual fanatics that seemed to make up most of the ranks. Mercenaries most likely.

”Focus Fire! Take them down one at a time!” Aiming towards the axe wielding warrior whom Orchid was engaged with, Kyra pulled back her bow strong as conjured forth another guiding bolt, launching it towards the man and marking him for the others to target. ”Brannor, take on Cyanwrath. We’ll support you!”

That axe hurt. Orchid was starting to have some doubts now, but instead of fear a biting frustration welled up inside of him. Fury took over his mind as he raged out against the enemy, seeing an opening made by Kyra's magical bolt. Fur grew around the orc's face as he took on more bestial features, not quite as pronounced as Brannor, nor as extreme as Torus, but still very much noticeablw. Orchid took another swing, tracing his blade along the magical lights to hack into the man's flesh. "WAAAAAGH!" After cleaving through flesh, Orchid drew one of the cultist scimitars from his belt. As much as he liked the feel of using both hands to cleave flesh and bone, two swords were truly better than one.

Three tough looking warriors plus Cyanwrath. Somehow, Parum felt surprised even though she knew that of all the people in this damnable dragon cult, of course he'd be here. Frankly she wouldn't be surprised if there were more dragons in here too. If she wasn't in the middle of a life-or-death battle right now she'd be bemoaning their misfortunes, but as her old bardic teacher taught her, fortune favors the bold. And if she wanted to survive she'd need to be very bold. Firstly, Parum needed to ensure Cyanwrath doesn't end up defeating Brannor. She had saved the last bit of her inspirational energies just for this. She played a furious tune on her viol, filling the air with arcane music as she directed her spell towards the half-dragon.

She said nothing, allowing her music to serve as the verbal, her performance to fulfill the somatic, and her instrument to serve as the material component of her Phantasmal Force spell. Cyanwrath would hopefully soon see nothing but darkness, unable to use even his dragon senses to see his foe as the noise from Parum's instruments would also deafen him from anyone's voices or actions, and the smell of death filled his nostrils with a poisonous stench. As she played this tune Parum would move further away from the battle, to ensure that she's well away from the pitch melee going on between the warriors so she could continue distracting and harrying the enemy.

Cyanwrath's posture hardly changed, but his behaviour certainly showed odd signs just after the halfling had performed her magical act. The half-dragon begun to glance towards his sides, and his nostrils drew closer to being shut. A low rumble emanated from his throat and his scaly fingers dug deeper into the handle of his weapon, the pressure starting to show even on the covering scales like it would have shown in the skin covered digits of a human, yet so much more mutely. His soldiers didn't need to consider twice what was going on, and the scar eyed man pointed his weapon in the direction of the bard. "Target the halfling!" he shouted out, earning a grunt of approval from their boss, stuck in the illusory threat without the ability to see beyond the cloud.

The axe wielding soldiers sprang into action, each changing their trajectories to pick up a new target from the group of adventurers. Even the one locked in melee combat against the half-orc would rush past his opposition, but the bleeding man didn't look all that certain of the action. Yet there was something in his eyes that drove him forward. Fear. Not of death, but a sideways glance to Cyanwrath spoke more than a thousand words. As did the swinging weapon of the half-orc, and after him the turning blade of the bestial paladin. His path was cut short, the hefty steel blade pushing him down to the ground, though even then it wasn't quite sufficient to cut through the man's armour enough to outright kill him. Oh he bled, especially from the shoulder that had just been struck, and the amount was not trivial either. But his chest still moved, and he closed his eyes on his own.

The druid in the guise of the tiger managed to strip a piece of armour away from the warrior that darted away from him, a snap of leather sending the broken strips lashing out at the animal's face. Not enough to cause direct harm, but certainly delivering an unpleasant lash just a hair too close to the eyes for one's liking. But with the Paladin having neglected the chance to impede the decorated axe and the apparent underling making it away from the tiger's maw, two axes came rushing down towards Parum. Both of the warriors put their full attention into the strike. Neither was fooling around. The intent was not only to maim. It was to kill, to ensure that the spell would end and that they would have one less target to worry about in the fight. The twin strikes landing on a woman barely the size of the blades spoke for themselves. One down. A couple more to go. Even if it cost one of their own.

The ferine paladin snarled as the tremendous blade connected at the following roar of the dragon being before him, the feral posture he had assumed ripping the sword clean. Whatever time Cyanwrath had to dispel the magic that had gripped his thoughts so briefly, the same which called him to cry out, that which likely cost the little woman her life, positively enraged the once huntsman. With an advancing step, the sickening sound of the blade freed, and the menace of men retaliated, and did so with violent retribution. The blade came free and up at an angle, carrying with it a wake of divine ethereal power. Some kernel of the furious, fanged thing that stood toe to toe with the equally fierce draconic being burned brighter and carried through the attack.

Brannor, perhaps what once was the man in the thrall of animal wrath, struck back in this way. But the beast dared not to swing once, it swung again and while the first blow was surely devastating in the same sense as to what the halfling had endured, either by skill or luck the draconic champion of the thuggish cult likely dodged the return swing. Each broad, thick hand that tore at the leather mitts that bound them hefted the sword, bringing it back and level while growling instinctively, upper lip quivering. One way or another this monster would suffer for its deeds, leading the tiger to circle around, knowing the opposition would almost surely follow now that they had been met in combat.

If the heroes could overwhelm their remaining two foes and plunge arrow, blade, and claw into them, the blue flight's raid leader might be felled. But that would require no small amount of fortune...


@Hekazu@Ryonara@Zverda@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen

Torus watched as the individual made it away from his bite, a low growl rumbling in his chest in his annoyance, so he simply pounced on the individual in an attempt to place his hulking mass between the Axe wielder and his group. Sure, he fur was matted with blood at the moment, but he was not about to let the guy have an easy time getting to those who may be able to deal with him far more in the time to come. As much as he wanted to assist their Paladin, even he knew he had to be careful with prioritizing who could be dealt with with relative ease. Though, it did not help that he seemed to hit far harder than one would wish. Lashing out with claws, the sharp keratin edges sliced into armor, and hopefully flesh. However, it seemed the wielder was still dexterous enough to avoid the bite that was soon too follow, Torus finding his jaws snapping at nothing but air. This alone pulled another growl from between his feline lips, golden eyes narrowing as he planted himself firmly. There was no doubt in his mind he was to lose this form, but it mattered not, for he had another to call upon when the time came.



@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Hekazu@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher@Norschtalen

The glimmering blade of the weretiger struck past the defences of the half dragon, cracking apart a piece of his armour and sending its shimmering energy rushing through the body of the royal blue scaled male. But instead of letting discomfort in pain show on his features, Cyanwrath's eyes gleamed with excitement. Finally! An opponent worthy of his all! The background action of the tiger pouncing on one of his men went past him without a shred of note, even as the man resisted the druid's attempt to drive him down to the ground, only suffering deep cuts into the hides shielding his body. No, Cyanwrath's target was before him. "I knew you could fight properly if you tried! Come at me!" he bellowed from the bottom of his lungs, idle sparks between his teeth not reaching the dangerous concentration the champion had had the misfortune of witnessing in their earlier confrontation.

Cyanwrath used his blade to turn aside the second attack that Brannor had attempted, yet this moment brought him to a rather unfavourable angle. Cyanwrath took the risk and sliced at the ear of his opponent, an attack easily avoided by the werecreature whose sense of hearing would have sufficed to let him know the strike was coming. But he had chosen his direction for backing off poorly, and with that strike missing Cyanwrath took the opportunity to exploit a new weakness in the Paladin's stance. The half-dragon had to spin his entire body around a whole circle, but it let him keep the momentum of his earlier strike and add more upon it, this time landing his strike square in Brannor's side, the Greatsword digging between the plates of armour, not giving him the benefit of the redistribution of pressure.

And once you create an opening, you exploit it as much as you at all can. Cyanwrath was no stranger to the techniques of fighting a single opponent, pressing on immediately. He withdrew his blade, not having the time to check if blood had already decorated its edges as he swung for Brannor's shoulder, another fierce clang echoing in the room as metal hit metal and the splint mail budged under the fearsome assault. And as if he was adding icing on the cake, Cyanwrath brought his blade down before Brannor and went for the leg opposing the shoulder in one clean cut, exploiting the opponent's attempt to get away from the strike just made. Weaker, less plated armour was torn apart under the tip of the large sword of Cyanwrath's, blood gushing to the surface from a recently opened wound on the furred thigh of the werebeast. Cyanwrath locked eyes with Brannor, still midway returning to his ready stance and taking half a step back. He couldn't leave himself too open. A counterattack would eventually follow, especially if one exposed themselves with too much aggression. But the glint in his eyes was unmistakable. "Come at me", it beckoned. "Challenge me."

After sending her divine bolt into one of the warriors, Kyra heard Parum play her magic music to presumably harry Cyanwrarh. Things were looking up for a moment, so long as they would be able to keep the enemy back. Which naturally proved to be their downfall as soon as that dragon commanded his warriors to attack Parum. They all rushed towards her and Kyra, and she braved herself for their attack. But they rushed right past her and cleaved the halfling down.

”Sons of bitches!” Kyra roared out in anger as she drew her short sword, aiming for the exposed backs of the warriors. She needed to get their attention off Parum, even if she had to take a few swings of the axe herself. ”Earth Mother hear my cry, do not let my ally die!” Using the last bit of magic she had left, Kyra would send positive energy into Parum’s body, hopefully keeping her from death despite the axemen’s efforts.

Seeing Parum go down filled Orchid with a particular scathing fury. He knew the dangers of fighting and adventuring, and that death occurs with despairing ease for those in the profession. But that didn't change the shock at seeing the enemies he was personally facing choose to go after her and hack her down with such merciless strength. Orchid wasn't going to allow this to go unanswered. He charged towards the axeman that Kyra had engaged, leaping into the air as he dropped his heavy blade for one of the lighter cultist scimitars. The warriors had exposed himself to cut down Parum, allowing Orchid to take full advantage and attack him with righteous fury, cleaving both blades towards the man's shoulders. "YOU FACE ME! ORCHID!

"Oh shit."

Parum saw the two men rush her and all she saw was black. "So this is how I go down. I guess... It wasn't so bad. I always did want to be important. I guess there's a certain... Appeal... To getting singled out." For the longest time Parum felt nothing but blackness. She counted twenty seconds, five minutes, half and hour. It felt like an eternity. "Is this what death is like? Or maybe some sort of purgatory? What sort of afterlife is this... I'm a good person, I'm devout. Where is my heaven? Please... Please don't leave me here! I don't want to be alone here!" And suddenly Parum's eyes opened. She gripped her rapier and viol and looked around. Those two warriors were still around her and she wasn't feeling as bad, but still in pain. Things weren't looking good for her allies. Orchid and Torus never got healed, and Brannor was fighting against Cyanwrath himself. She wanted so much to be anywhere but here. She should've stayed in college. But as Parum came to her senses her fears, much like her blood, flowed out from her body. She couldn't run, she's always known this. She always had a chance to run away with no one stopping her. She didn't come to this cave to run. She was going to fight.

"That... Tickled." Parum played a sharp note that echoed into the mind of one of the axemen as a deafening symphony of screeching metal and screams. The little blue halfling that they've cut down wasn't out of this fight just yet!