Allant huffed a bit as Stephan shot down his collateral. It's not like Soul Stones weren't accepted in most small towns, they were almost a second currency in Hitor. He sadly shuffled his gems back into his pack with a shrug. Ah well, if he was right on the money here he'd be getting a nice chunk of coin at the end of this little mission anyways.
Getting up off of his rear, Allant stretched out a bit. It appeared dinner was ready, so he'd need to get up and go grab it. He walked over to Jenramo and grabbed a bowl, thanking with a simple little bow. Allant took down his hood and set his mask face down on a nearby rock, revealing his sharp, tanned face. He slurped down the soup with wild abandon; he was never particularly receptive to his father's reprimandations on table manners and he was hungry. While he was scarfing down the veggies, he was informed he had next watch with Yui. She was interesting; She looked just like he did with her more gaunt features and dark hair, but she apparently wasn't from the Dread Desert. In fact, he had no idea where she was from, but judging from her 'gun' as she called it, it must have been far off or well off.
It seemed the two of them polished their meals off at around the same time. Like her, Allant checked over his equipment, making sure his blades were sharp and pointy, and grabbing his mask, though stuffing it in his pouch as the sun wasn't beating down on him anymore. It seemed Octavia wanted to join them as well. "Ah, Octavia, you coming with us? Is that okay with you Jing?"
Jenramo sat among his comrades, the food was pleasant, and the cool air was starting to become cold. Jenramo pulled his cloak out of his pack and threw it on, his time in more frigid lands had been good, they were his favorites, yet here he was in a desert. Jenramo looked around and listened a bit to Pox and Yui talk about her weapon, he hadn't had many chance to speak with Yui, though he knew that the conversation would have to come about eventually, so he wasn't to concerned, it looked simple enough until you get the the trigger and breach, she might be willing to part with it for a day so he can get a good look at it right? Maybe it was wishful thinking, but if he promised more equipment, perhaps work on upgrades, maybe.
Jenramo knew well that these younger folk would be spry enough to handle hanging around the flames listening to the stories their leader wove, however, over the years Jenramo knew that morning always came faster than you expect, so he took his sword in its sheathe, set it in his lap and wrapped his cloak over more and shut his eyes. As he let his mind wander, his thoughts led him to his home, the snowfall leaving everything glistening lightly, the faint screams in the distance. The beast he slew, tearing through the city, devouring the people, yet Jenramo felt no fear, how many nights had he had this dream, how many times did he slay the beast? The darkened blade sinking into the beast was familiar, and as it had many times before, it died, and within he saw his family, he saw his friends, why did they always look like they were in pain? The sword pulled the images to it, drinking in the suffering on their faces, yet again, Jenramo let it, too afraid to let go of the memory.
Jing gave the Ok for Octavia to join the patrol, another pair of eyes couldn't hurt anyway. Luckily though the night passed without incident as did much of the next day. By noon the silhouette of the Tomb were in sight and the group had made it to them by mid afternoon. Still things seemed quiet and it gave Jing a bad feeling. But the Irregulars pressed on and it wouldn't be long until they reached the entrance to the Desert Tomb. The group carefully made their way towards the entrance unsure of what they would find about twenty feet from the entrance Alm caught a sent and his posture changed drawing his naginata into a defensive stance instead of a walking stick. "This is why you don't take Stephan up on his bets" Alm commented as Jing signaled for the others to ready their weapons as well. Another ten feet and the others would smell what Alm did, Blood and lots of it, Jing set up the line placing himself Alm and Jenramo as the vanguard to enter first the three of them probably best to be the tank line, Allant, Octavia, and Nanami would make up the second line their job to attack at any opening made by the front line, Yui, Shion, Gwen, and Sybille would bring up the rear blasting whatever they could with their magics and arrows, while Pox and Stephan brought up the rear guard making sure nothing would come from behind and allowing Pox to get a full view of the battle and where his skills would most be needed.
With the formation in place the group entered the Tomb ready for a fight, but after the brief moment of fear that would come from blindly entering the tomb there was no fight to be had. Remains of what must of been the Expedition team lay massacred in the Tomb's entrance hall. Bodies lie ripped to shreds some pinned to walls with spears and arrows and may others lie dismembered with severed limbs. It was not a pretty sight but one Jing had seen many times in his years. After a minute of staying on guard Jing was sure an attack was not imminent allowing the group to break formation. "Alright Alm and Allant take Octavia and start to scout out a bit of the tomb, don't go to far and if you see anything don't engage just return and report. Yui, Shion, Gwen, You play lookout if you see anything out alert the others. Pox your job is to study the wounds see if you can determine what we are up against, Everyone else look for clues search the dead for anything that might give us an idea of what happened, if there is somehow a survivor call Pox immediately." Jing stated and the group began to disperse looking for any clue in what was the Expedition's camp.
This wasn't Alm's first time coming across this sort of mess but it definitely wasn't one of his favorite scenes Alm made his way over to Allant, "Looks like were scouts again. Going to count on you this time, cant smell much more than blood right now if that changes I'll give you the heads up" Alm admitted, he was used to being a scout with Allant especially in desert operations it worked out nicely Allant's skills at tracking combined with Alm's enhanced scenes made a good team when needed. Alm then turned his attention to Octavia whom he just remembered had just left her home. "How are you holding up? I'm guessing this is your first time coming across a scene like this... I don't know if it helps but it gets easier after a while..." He said checking up on the girl and trying to comfort him if just a little.
Hiking across the desert wasn’t exactly high on Yui’s ‘fun things to do’ list, but that’s what the job was, and it was certainly well paying enough; that said she was looking forward to getting into the shade of the Temple…right up until the winds shifted. Gods above! Retching at the smell as the moved deeper into the Temple, she tried her hardest to just breathe through her mouth; it wasn’t the first time she’d smelled death like this, but it never got any easier to deal with.
After the initial discovery, Yui wasn’t ashamed to admit that she was very grateful for Jian putting her on lookout duty, it meant she could get out of the slaughter house. Slinging her rifle over a shoulder, she made a hasty step back the way they’d come in. ”Hey Shion, Gewn!” She called out. ”I’ll get up above the entrance, keep a long watch in case someone comes a call.” Doing her best not to retch again, she flashed a grin that she really wasn’t feeling. ”If you hear a loud ‘bang’ assume shit is getting interesting.”
With that she hustled back out into the desert sun; it may be too hot and too dry and she had sand in unfortunate places, but all of that was worth it to get away from that smell. To the right as she stepped onto the sand, she saw that the piled dune was a bit shallower than on the other side, so she started her climb there. Loose sand under foot was a pain, but in relatively short order she’d managed to get up to the roof line of the Temple, where she then proceeded to set herself into a shadow from the Temple’s tower that was above the entrance. With luck, should anyone else approach, they’d be too sun-blind to see her.
Taking up her weapon once more, she sat and waited, slowly moving her head side-to-side, searching for anything that may be a threat.
Jenramo looked about the temple, his greatsword in hand, the carnage in the room was evident and as they moved through the stench was horrid. He look about the scene as Jing called out to them, instructing them to search for clues, there were clues splattered across the walls and floors, pinned to rocks, dismembered and torn, clearly the work of a more intelligent monster, one with the use of tools. Jenramo went over to the man pinned down by arrows, much could be told by the crafts of another. The arrow pulled easily from the corpse, the weapon was crude, almost ancient looking. "Jing, this is not as simple as scorpions I'm afraid, foes that use tools are capable of quite a bit."
Jenramo looked about the tomb trying to see more clues as to what foe they were facing, though the mess was quite extensive and the cleared space from the expedition left him with little to notice. He walked back to his commander and said, "Honestly Jing, this looks like a savage force, splitting up may only lead to an ambush, we are in their territory, best to be defensive." Jenramo was a skilled warrior, one who has been in the military life for many years, though men and monsters were not the same and often need to be handled differently.
A continuation of their conversation, just before their dinner.
She didn't use Fire Dust, yet seemed to have a very keen knowledge of its capabilities. Fire Dust was more than a propellant, it was an incendiary, burning hot and bright like oil in a moment in a fireball. It was the filler of his Garda Eggs, his fire bombs. This is something Pox took notice of as he nodded his head to her. But while she spoke, he got closer and crouched down, a hand nestling under his mask as he just stared at her rifle, motionless for a second as he tried to intuitively figure out the make and mechanisms. While he was no blacksmith, he did have knowledge of cause, reaction, and effect. He knew there was a projectile, a bullet. So there had to be a powder catridge and a bullet in a chamber. The hammer strikes into the breech, igniting the powder. Rifle goes boom.
"You're definitely right about that. Fire Dust burns hot enough to melt wrought iron at those temperatures. But with steel? I don't think its something that sophisticated." He thought aloud, his hand motioning with a index finger extended as if getting an idea. "Crazy idea, but if we had a chance to get another one of these things, we could widen the barrel, line the interior with steel, or even just a sheet of tungsten molded to the interior. The chamber there could be filled with pouches of Fire Dust, and technically if ignited, all the fire should come out the other end. It wouldn't go very far, but just imagine, you have to get up close to a crowd. WHOOOM!" He expanded his hands in the motion. "Suddenly a ball of fire right in their face. Great for clearing a room."
Another two doses of Ice Breath coursed through the Apothecaries coat, offering a slight breeze to those behind him (too bad he was mostly in the back of the group) He continued his usual duties, seeing that people drank their water and pitched their shades during rest, and bundled up in the dry cold Desert Nights. Thankfully despite being such a stickler for regular help, his usual mannerisms didnt make him as annoying as one probably should for such minor things from a band of hardened warriors. Regardless, he would often put a syringe into a port on his arm during their travels. This was for the pain, and to keep up considering the weight he had to carry. Everything changed when the tomb came into sight.
Pox then stopped talking, probably for the first time in two days, taking his position in the center of them, swiveling his head back and forth to keep everyone in view. He unbuckled his pouches, vials and darts and syringes now coming into view for easy access as he unhooked and slung his crossbow into his craddling hands. A jar at his hip opened on its on, Pox taking a bolt and sticking its head into the slimy puddy before setting it into the crux of the bow, and pulling on the lever to set the tension. They were ready and then moved in, Pox being out of view before the majority stepped through the threshold.
The scene made the doctor lower his weapon slightly. "By the Father's Mercy..." he said, a bit aghast at the scene. He ran forward, going to the nearest intact body, but he knew that only death greeted them. It was a massacre, and he felt a pang in his hearth. "My lord Creator." He put a closed fist to his forehead in prayer. "Your children rest, wake them in brighter days." He snapped out of it as he heard his name. He looked back to the corpse, grabbing his glove and pulling it tighter. "Even the dead can tell secrets."
Pox kneeled, laying his hands over the wounds of one of the fallen, then moving to another, unstrapping his kit from his belt, probes and scalpels, rubbing stones, and magnifying glasses, all came to him in a whirl before digging into the corpse without hesitation. He seemed to move so fast, like his instruments were moving on there own to measure angles and gather samples. He poked at holes, took out arrows and pulled at the skin. He spent alot of attention on the rubbing stone, dropping other liquids and tracing the refuse with a knife to study its smears. He looked very closely at one before coming to his diagnosis.
"Hes right." Pox claimed, wiping down a scalpel as he looked back to the group following Jenramo statement. "Long curved blades made these wounds. Falx Swords maybe. Curved inward to catch and cleave limbs and hook into flesh. And the wielders used them well. Some of these blows took significant strength. More than a green soldier could manage in pitched desert battle. And it takes quite something to pierce stone, never mind the man before it. More bad news. These arrow points and thrown spears are tipped in poison. Considering the region, its no doubt cobra venom, most likely a refined version from the Duneshadow Cobra. Its a postsynaptic neurotoxin that spread rapidly in its victim's bloodstream, causing respiratory failure and, eventually, death. Good news is, its not a supernatural strain, so I can treat it pretty regularly, but I wouldn't let it go for too long, otherwise your heightened heart rate will spread the poison even faster. You'll get weak, short of breath, and delirious before falling over, at which point poison would be the least of your problems if the battle gets close."
He looked back to the dead. "Effective tactic to poison the enemy first before moving in. The arrows wouldn't guarantee to kill through the armor, but most assuredly could pierce it partially enough to wound. Poor souls were fighting uphill practically from the start. Regardless, no sign of the enemy. Any of their casualties were probably taken away. If there were any. I'll keep looking though."
The night passed them by quietly. In fact, it was so peaceful that it almost felt ominous. The calm before the storm, as they would say. While the long walk helped to clear her mind, it did no wonders for her aching legs and sleepless mind. Octavia splashed water on her face in an attempt to rid herself of her lethargy. With heavy eyes, she watched the horizon as the sun rose quietly like a thief in the night. It painted the sky with hues of orange and pink; it was a pretty scene to watch, but she knew it wouldn't be so pretty once the heat settled in. Still, Octavia had to brace herself for another long day at the desert.
--
The Irregulars walked from sunrise to noon, and Octavia was sure that her legs would give in at any moment. At this point, it was only her strong determination that kept her moving. Her legs ached with every step, but her body language did not betray her. She looked fine, aside from the shadows that sat under her eyes. Even though she carried herself like a soldier, her eyes could not hide her exhaustion. Fortunately, it wasn't too obvious considering that her other eye was hidden underneath an eyepatch.
It was a great relief when the group finally spotted the desert tomb. Octavia couldn't help but stop in her tracks in order to admire the tomb's impressive structure. It was bigger and better than what she had imagined. She had to wonder how it was built and how many people it took to finish it. That aside, a few minutes of shade would be wonderful. Octavia was eager to get away from the burning sun; it was like a malevolent eye that remained unblinking.
Speaking of a malevolent eye, hers started throbbing. Before Octavia could react, a sharp pain invaded her skull, and she gasped and almost fell to her knees. Before she could make something out of the situation, the pain in her head had disappeared just as sudden as it came. She stood still with bewilderment as fear started to well up inside of her. Her heartbeat quickened as she struggled to keep her composure. It was as if she had seen a ghost. Octavia's curse was reacting to something. That, or it was trying to take over, taking advantage of her weakened state of mind due to her lack of sleep. Octavia cursed silently. She was in a bad spot, but she swallowed down her unconfident thoughts and cleared her mind.
As they approached the entrance, a bad promentition gnawed at her gut. She was reluctant to enter but followed closely behind Alm and Jenramo. The atmospehere inside the tomb was heavy. A chill ran down Octavia's spine. She could feel the many souls of those who died a tragic death. The Desert Tomb was like a vessel for dark energy, fueled by the hatred, sorrow, and regrets of the souls that lingered here. Octavia's nose picked up the scent before the others did, and her hand quickly covered her mouth as she gagged. The smell was nasueating and so was the scene that greeted them a few moments later. It tickled her insides; it made them twist and her eyes water. There was scarcely any air left to breath. Octavia ran for the exit as soon as Jing finished giving out his instructions.
Octavia breathed heavily, her lungs greedy for fresh air. She stared at the ground, seemingly stuck in a daze. "How are you holding up? I'm guessing this is your first time coming across a scene like this... I don't know if it helps but it gets easier after a while..." She almost jumped when she heard his voice, but it helped to snap her out of her trance. She blinked. "I..um - yeah. I'm fine." Octavia grimaced at her inability to give him a proper reply. "What happened there was terrible. I don't think I'll be able to get the scene out of my mind for awhile." She forced a smile in an attempt to reassure him that she was fine. Or maybe she was trying to reassure herself because truth be told, she was afraid.
Octavia could her the voices of her ancestors. It was as if they were speaking directly from behind her. She couldn't understand what they were uttering but they seemed to be delighted. A painful sensation came from her hand, and only then did she realize that she had been clenching her fist ever so tightly. No, she wasn't afraid of the voices, nor was she afraid of the scene that they had stumbled upon. What she was afraid of was the feeling that lingered at the edge of her conciousness; the feeling of bloodlust. Octavia should have realized it sooner. Her curse had reacted to the large amounts of dark energy inside the tomb. It was the same kind of energy that the Crestkeep family had used to fuel their powers. Octavia couldn't shake the part of her that wanted to laugh in amusement at the sight they had just witnessed.
That scared her.
In a desperate attempt to push those thoughts aside, she decided to switch her focus to something else. "W-we should begin scouting. We might find some clues."
[♪] The day started off as expected, desert winds gently blowing against them all as the heat bared down on the group, though sooner than Nanami expected they had come across a tomb of sorts that instantly sparked the woman's interest. She knew she had a job to do though and followed the tactics her father gave to her without hesitation, her mind locking into a mindset meant for battle. At first, Nanami was a tad too focused on possible attacks to really drink in the scene before them, but it slowly melted away as Jing realized there was no danger. It was then that Nanami really got a whiff of the blood and coughed softly as she tightened her scarf around her mouth, trying her best to guard against the stench.
Of course people never reacted kindly to scenes like this and only particular mindsets and personalities were dispositioned to take it in stride, but Nanami felt she was more of the middle-ground. While she didn't crawl away and gag at the sight, neither was she completely ignorant of what it was - especially since she could hear the subtle, sad song of life passing away still clinging to their bodies. She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to that. Her father barked out orders to search for clues though while some of the others stood watch before everyone scrambled to do their assigned tasks. For a moment or two, Nanami just stood, scanning the scene as she had a special talent for noticing small details often overlooked.
Before long however, there was something that seemed out of place among the limbs, the blood, and the dead - a parchment, or rather a string of parchments woven into a book of sorts. Carefully stepping over splotches of blood and body parts, she bend over and picked it up, waving it in the air a little, though most of the blood had dried by now and was mostly only clinging to the outside. 'What have we here?' she thought to herself as she flipped through the pages, reading carefully. After several moments, her eyes seemed to dart up ahead and then back to the book a few times, only followed by the sudden snap of it closing.
Nanami removed her scarf, letting out a sharp cough and small gag to the smell before clearing her throat. "There's also a journal here," she announced, tucking it under her arm for now as she tried her best to examine any details of the tomb. "It's about two days old... but it seems Sir Frances Darkwing was trying to solve a puzzle of some sort - driving the men to run their supplies low. Something written about being watched, which is probably whoever.. or whatever attacked them." She shifted, stepping over the bodies as she walked towards the entrance going deeper. She seemed to ponder for several moments. "I just wonder what it was that they were after... but I have a suspicion that Sir Frances Darkwing may still be alive, or at least made it deeper in..."
She gave her father a glance and pursed her lips. She trusted her father that he knew what he was doing, but what horrors waited them inside? Nanami had her own experiences with old world ruins and it wasn't the most pleasant thing - something she had not fully revealed to her own father, mostly because of his overprotective nature, but they could certainly house very dangerous things in them. And powerful things. She could only imagine if something like that was here and got into the wrong hands. The thought made her shiver.
The night passed without incident, or almost any conversation at all. It was a little bizarre to say the least, but kind of nice as well. Still, he occasionally thought back to whether that noble really was alive. It had been a month; it was a near impossibility for Allant himself to survive in the desert that long but for a noble? It was impossible. All they were going to find there was death, certainly. Death and some beasts that brought it. Hopefully they were weak enough for the Irregulars to kill them, or slow enough for them to run after obtaining some kind of proof of death.
It was the afternoon now and the group had caught sight of some kind of tomb, an excellent place for a caravaning group to rest. The band silently agreed to check it out, considering if someone was alive they could be holding out in the cool, shaded ruin. Just a couple meters from the Tomb though, Alm stopped them all and drew his blade, smelling something unsavory. Allant knew to trust the mountain man's nose and drew his two blades as well, and took formation behind the vanguard.
There weren't any enemies in the main hall, but there certainly were at some point. Bodies littered the room, savagely torn to pieces. Those that were mostly intact were instead riddled with javelin and arrows or pinned against the stony walls. "Orcs..." Allant muttered to himself, a sound assumption if he was concerned. It was obvious-- no desert scorpions could wield a bow. Didn't change that a scorpion attack would have been prettier to look at, though. The room was an absolute mess and the smell of blood flooded Allants nostrils even through the mask. He knew he'd vomit if he took it off so he'd leave it on for now.
He was on scout duty, which made sense. If the orcs were still here, he'd do well to be their vanguard now. Pox would look over the wounded-- or dead as they mostly were-- and try and find out what exactly they were up against. Allant hung back for a bit to catch the first bit of what Pox would discover, which Alm and Octavia didn't seem to mind as they wanted to catch themselves, the girl especially. "I know Orcs, so you can count on me. I can hold one or two off but you'll need to be quick on the kill." Allant offered offhandedly while looking at the Prince.
It was Orcs-- Falx blades wielded with great strength, large javelins piercing stone, and the brutal wounds all pointed to it. Something interesting though was poison that coated the arrowheads. Allant didn't catch everything but he did hear that it caused deliriousness and weakness. It may have been his bias but could Yuria have been...?
He stopped himself. It didn't matter and he had other things to worry about. A hideaway to explore. "Come, let's get going. If there's anyone here I'm sure they've heard us. The less time they may prepare, the better."
Alm went and put his hand on Octavia's shoulder giving her a good look over. "That was a pretty bad scene, whatever it was that did that, we will make them pay. But even then you don't look so good, are you sure you are ok to go?" He asked after letting her go. About at that time Gwen walked up to the trio. "You boys go out and scout, I'll look after her," She said in a calm soothing voice. "Be careful out there and don't stray to far. I don't like this place and we can't have you to be injured." She warned Alm and Allant while shooing them on their way both not bothering to argue with the woman, learning well from past experiences. Gwen then turned to Octavia with a smile, "Here come with me little one I know something that will make you feel better." the elder mage said leading her a little ways away from the group. When out of ear shot of the group Gwen then told Octavia to sit. "Well miss heir to the Crestkeep are the voices keeping you awake at night?" She asked the words coming out like a knife and suddenly Octavia was unable to move, "Calm yourself, Young one I won't hurt you," Gwen immediately said in a soothing tone, "You know you look exactly like your mother did at that age, such a shame your family was hunted down." She continued gently touching her hand to the young girl's cheek. "Your Mother used to talk to me about the voices, they would nearly drive her insane at times. But there was a cure of sorts, It is nowhere a permanent solution but I can calm the voices allowing you to sleep at least." Gwen offered. "I would teach you the spell, but you didn't follow the path of the mage. Such a waste of potential..." She continued before lightly placing the palms of her hands onto Octavia's head. Almost instantly her fatigue seemed to melt away revitalizing the young warrior. "This will help you for the day, Won't do anything about the voices but I am sure you will manage. Come see me before you come to bed and I will sooth the voices for the night." Gwen added releasing Octavia from the binding spell and starting to walk back to Jing, "Don't worry young one I'll keep your secret." Gwen added casually walking away leaving the young girl with more questions then answers.
With Octavia seemingly plucked from the patrol Alm and Allant went on their way keeping in mind what Gwen said. After about half an hour into them scouting and finding nothing of note Alm rubbed his nose finally getting the worst of the stench from them. "I don't know I don't think it was Orcs," Alm commented on Allant's earlier assumption breaking the silence, "It was messy yes, but there weren't any orc bodies, never seen them pull off a perfect ambush that left none of their own dead, and never seen Orcs who care to retrieve their dead either. I think it was something else but I don't know what." He stated his opinion stopping for a moment to study the tracks on the ground before them. "Humans, nothing out of the ordinary really. All I can tell is someone or something dragged this direction." He commented while studying the tracks. But quickly shot his eyes up. "Sounds like there is something up ahead. I lot of somethings, I don't think we could handle it alone, time to head back," Alm said standing up and slowly moving back with Allant before turning to a brisk pace back to Jing and the group.
Jing listened to the information given to him by the others formulating his next move. "Looks like we are going to have to look deeper into the Tomb, but I agree with Jenramo we will have to proceed very carefully on our way in." Jing started, "Once Alm and Allant return we will start our advance deeper. Remember whatever these things are they fight with poison be mindful and if you get hit move back to Pox or Gwen imminently for treatment, even a scratch could prove fatal if not treated. Until they return lets start clearing the area, pile the bodies outside we will burn them to get rid of the stench. Retrieve some sort of identifying mark if possible to return to their families. Pox work with Gwen try to make a counteractive to that poison so we will be ready to treat it if and when needed. And Stephan, you can keep the coin you find, but rings and jewelry comes to me easiest way to prove their death. Everyone get to work." Jing gave out his next set of orders letting the Irregulars spread out but calling back Nanami for a moment. "That was a good find Nanami I'm proud of you. Keep close when we go on the move, This might turn out to be more action than I wanted you to have on your first mission." He said laying his hand on her head. "Stay safe my little songbird, and if anything happens come to me and I'll protect you." He said softly to his daughter before pulling her in for a hug.
It would be another fifteen minutes until Allant and Alm were able to return to the group still moving at a good speed. Jing saw the pace at which they were moving and immediately gave a sharp whistle "Everyone form up they are coming!" Jing yelled out not even waiting for their report Shion quickly ran outside in order to collect Yui for the fight. As everyone got ready Alm took a moment to catch his breath. "We were a bit faster then them... Should have about five minutes before they show up..." Alm said in between breaths. "I hate... marathons... in this armor....." He added taking the little bit of time to regain his stamina and take his position for the fight. The next five minutes would feel like an eternity especially for those who had never been in a real fight before.
Yui sat in the shade of the massive pillar, the colour of her gear and the depth of the shade doing much to conceal her presence from any hidden watchers. Breathing through her nose to reduce water loss, she slowly and methodically turned her head back and forth, while her eyes tracked up and down looking for the slightest disruption in the landscape; what or whomever had attacked the noble’s party was not someone she wanted to be surprised by.
-
She hadn’t been there all too long, when she heard Shion calling up from below her position, apparently A and A found something or someone, and whatever it was, was following them back. Fan-fucking-tastic…was hoping to go at least an hour before something other than the desert tried to kill us. Rising from her post, she made her way back to the dune that she’d climbed and leapt. Taking big, bounding strides, she half ran, half fell down the sand until she was back to the level of the entrance. As her eyes once more adjusted to the darker interior she saw everyone readying to meet whatever was coming.
Seeing how they were arrayed, she stuck two fingers in her mouth and blew a short whistle. ”Oi! Watch the door!” She called out as she rushed through it. ”Don’t let yourselves get silhouetted!”As she passed Pox, she clapped him on the shoulder, and looked between the apothecary and Gwen. ”Watch the door if you can, no good in holding the line here if we get jumped from behind.”
Jogging over to the others, she took a knee off to one side, giving herself as wide a field of fire as she could. ”{♪}And who are you? The proud lord said. That I should bow so low?{♪}”
"Will do Master Jing." He stated, his beak going up and down in a rather large nod, as he poured a strong smelling alcohol over his gloves. He was happy to get a chance to prepare his procedures, but the name Gwen kept coming up. Except in passing, the responsible, fashionably garbed woman mainly stuck to her family for Pox to get a word in. She must have been the real 'mother' of the group, healing magic probably. Pox hoped he would be able to meet her standards considering they had to share responsibilities.
He gathered his things in his arms and approached her as she just had finished talking to Octavia. "Nice to finally work with you Mistress Gwen. I do so with it was under cheerer circumstances." She might as well be his superior in the Irregulars considering how he was hired. He then reset his alchemy kit before her, then the rest of his pack, setting various containers, pouches, and bangoliers. He even unstrapped what looked like a roll of leather, and it was filled with rows and rows of syringes, but they were modified to act as darts, by the fin at the plunger. "I have some similar snake venoms that we could dilute and denature into antivenin, then counter some of the depressive symptoms with Bacopa, and of course pulped Guava for the Vitamin C." Pox got to work, setting a candle burner under a dish with some scrappings of yellowish goo from a satchel of various thick glass vials. Then he sprinkled some leaves over it before adding a spoon of pulped green fruit flesh. Some stirs later, the concoction began to simmer and Pox loaded his darts. "Should probably make five of these ready to go, anyone else, just some good old fashioned Remove Poison Spell. Wont be as fast though."
Examining the darts he created for functionality, he was happy with the result. Five antivenins ready to go. "If you feel a shot in your back, don't worry- that's just me." He announced it loudly but tettered off as the words continued, now realizing that the warning was probably not the best way to tell everyone. Still, better they not get surprised at the wrong moment.
Pox considered that to be a good idea. "I'm already watching everyone, suppose I could add another direction to that." He started to repack his things before he remembered. "Oh here!" He tossed her a small little tin. At first glance it would appear to be some kind of smelling salts, and opening it, it would be sharp licorice taste that actually would make someone's eyes got a little wobbly for a moment as it filled their sinuses, but this was temporary. "Steady. It's designed for archers to keep their aim... steady. Probably don't need it but couldn't hurt." He said with his usual chipper attitude. "Be careful!" He gave her a wave and took her advice.
He then cursed that he was not two people. He could either spread the love with his alchemical wonders to see that his group fought harder and easier, or he could be sure that anything coming up from deeper in the tomb would meet with a nasty surprise. He decided that preparing for something potentially horrible was the best way he could help. He went back to Gwen. "Do you have any offensive capabilities Mistress Gwen? You are welcome to use me as a shield if the situation warrants it. Putting me down for the count has been in an bounty hunter's word, described as annoying. I'm going to lay a bit of a trap if something decides to come up from our rear." Pox had one of his Garda Eggs in hand, a fiery explosive. He planned to lay a line of Fire Dust just at the entrance deeper, setting at least two of the Eggs at opposite ends. If he could lay a trip wire to strike some flint, a tiny spark, it would set the whole portal entrance ablaze for less than a minute or so, complete with a bon fire sized explosion. Good early warning system and a nasty surprise to any who could think to get the drop on them.
Jenramo took his place quickly at the front of the group, closing the defense as Allant and Alm ran by, he held his darkened blade up and set his stance lower to the ground, both of his hands held tight to the handle as he began to hear the others forming up. Yui had posted up, Jenramo tried to keep a gap where she could get a shot by if she got one, he looked back as Pox and Gwen also returned, "Pox! Gwen! Prioritize your healing and antivenin to the others, do not waste it on me." Jenramo found himself glad for the blade and its power, he never had to rely on the healing magics of these mages, only the power of his own tenacity.
The sound of the advancing foes was becoming louder, and it only drove into Jenramo's mind the fury he felt for what they and the monsters like them had done, whatever beast they were he would slay them all the same. He thought he heard a snap, but he wasn't sure of it until a stinging pain shot through his arm, he looked down only to see an arrow stuck within his arm, the toxin already invading his system, At least if it hits me, they aren't hitting the rest. he thought to himself as he pulled the arrow and set himself ready to attack at the word from Jing.
[♪] Hearing her name, she gracefully stepped around the bodies before making her way to her father, listening to him as she felt his hand on her head. A more stubborn daughter may have huffed and felt Jing was condensing, but Nanami knew it was only out of love that the man felt so protective over her, feeling him pull her into a hug. She had never been super close to her family, even her father, but ever since she joined there seemed to be more of a connection between the two that she appreciated. She was just thankful she did not disclose all the details of her trip to acquire her songs - Jing would probably have not let her come along if he knew, but she was stronger willed than he was willing to admit.
Still, she returned the hug happily and squeezed before letting go and smiling at her father. "Try not to worry father... I think my songs will be of more use than anyone realizes yet. I'll be careful though, I promise." She nodded. She quietly wished she had learned the one to dispel poison, but how often did that really come up? She had so much more to learn anyways. Giving Jing a pat on the shoulder, she went about preparing the dead to be moved, since she couldn't move them herself. Before long though, she heard yells and watched as everyone scrambled. 'Action indeed.'
Nanami quietly pulled to the middle of the group, recognizing her mixed roles, being able to fight but also support - this way she could give much needed back up to the main fighters of the group, glancing over to Yui for a minute in thought. 'Fitting that she is singing a quiet tune.' No one had truly seen what Nanami was able to do just yet, even Jing had only seen a examples of it, but she only knew of the bard that was able to weave song into magical auras and even they were rare. Point being, she decided to keep quiet and just her thing - probably best to speed Yui's shots (@Athol), so she could at least get one more in, but she'd need to weave her blade right before the battle began.
Gwen watched as Pox came up to her, The boy's knowledge of the healing arts and everything that went with it was impressive, although he was deceptively polite. "From what Jing told me you are one of the best healers around, Although he seems to think his crew is the best of everything so I'll take that with a grain of salt." She said in a bit of a cold voice. Although he had never given her reason Gwen did not trust the Apothecaries and for good reason from previous interactions with the group. She watched as he quickly cooked up a few doses of anti-venom and gave her nod of approval, "I'll stick to magic if that's all the same, but be ready to use those antidotes if needed." She cautioned. When the question of defense came up Gwen just smiled and her hand lit up in a ball of flame, "Ohh I can very well defend myself you have nothing to worry about there." She said with a bit of a wicked smile before turning her attention to the oncoming threat.
The sound as the enemy approached was different than what was to be expected, almost as if something was being drug instead of footsteps. The assault started with a volley of arrows from the darkness, One of the arrows struck Jenramo in the arm with the others harmlessly digging themselves into the sandy ground. Then they came from the shadows a party of Fifteen Snake Men, Five armed with Bows and the other ten armed with swords The front three Sword wielders held javelins and as they came into range began to throw. Shion was quick to act letting loose an arrow of his own striking one of the warriors in its shoulder throwing off its aim and letting the javelin fly harmlessly off to the side. Alm was quick enough to deflect the second javelin out of the air splitting it into two and eliminating that threat. The third javelin's flight path aimed it directly at Pox. After the javelins flew the warriors advanced on the Irregular's front line. One of the warriors was taken out by a direct hit from one of Gwen's fireballs and two of the others nearby flinched from the burns. The archers on the other hand spread out moving to take positions that were favorable to them. One quickly slithered up a pillar trying to get a birds eye view but was shot down as Shion placed an arrow right between its eyes dropping the beast quickly. Jing gave the command to attack and He, Alm, and Jenramo moved forward to engage the Snakes hopefully to create openings for the back line fighters. Although before they could move and against his will Jenramo felt a numbing sensation in his arm, if we looked he would see a greenish beam coming from Gwen stuck to his arm drawing out a deep purple venom from the wound, although doing nothing for the injury itself just removing the poison.
[Current Remaining Enemy count and Status] 9 Sword type fighters currently charging front line (Alm, Jing, Jenramo) -1 lightly injured with arrow to shoulder -2 lightly injured with burns -0 currently engaged in combat
4 Archer type Spread around main floor looking for openings and targets.
People spoke, an arrow whistled out of the gloom, but Yui did her best to tune it out, bending all her concentration on the deep dark and the approaching enemies. Edging through her concentration, she heard a wordless tune in the back of her mind, felt her senses sharpen, her hands become quicker and her mind clearer; she smiled slightly as she realized what was happening. Nanashi or Octavia? She knew one of them used Bardic Magics, but she couldn’t remember which one at the moment, not that is mattered.
She was a bit surprised when Snake Men rushed out of the gloom, in a hail of arrows and javelins. Would’ve put my soverns on Orcs… Just as quickly as they appeared, two were down and three were wounded; tracking one of the archers, Yui pulled the second trigger with her middle finger until she felt a heavy ’click’ as the set-trigger readied.
The archer stopped, drew its bow, Yui just brushed the first trigger with her index finger, and several things happened nearly simultaneously. The hair thin seer notch on the trigger broke free of the seer that was holding back the coiled hammer spring. As the spring unwound, it swung the hammer forward through the notch in the breech block allowing the hammer to strike the back of the thin steel cartridge and run its pointed ‘pin’ face to go through the hole in the cartridge and strike the Soul Stone inside. The stone flared a small burst of fire when it was struck, which promptly lit the compressed gunpowder that was packed against it. As the gunpowder burned the rapidly expanding gasses that it generated tried to push out and the easiest way for most of it to go was into the back of the bullet, pushing it into and down the barrel, pressure forming the hollow base of the lead round into the hexagonal rifling and imparting some spin into it.
All of this resulted in a thunderous ‘chuf-BANG’ that battered the ears of everyone in the old temple, it was oppressively loud when fired outside; indoors, it could make it hard to think. Less than half a second later a half inch, one ounce, mass struck the archer in the throat effectively taking the Snake Man’s head right off; Yui had been aiming for his chest but the shot went a bit high.
Yui however was unaware of the effect, partially because the firing had enveloped her in a dense grey/white cloud of smoke and partially because she was paying more attention to re-loading. Bringing the muzzle up, she went through the reloading drill faster than she normally could thanks to the ‘singer’ behind her. Rocking the tensioning level back she re-cocked the hammer, then pulled the latch locking the breach closed, back, letting the breech-spring pop it open. With the breach open, she pulled the empty, but still hot and smoking, cartridge clear and brought it down to a pouch on her right hip. Flicking the pouch open, she stuffed the empty casing into an empty wool lined slot and pulled out a loaded one. Bringing it up, she stuffed the live shot into the breech and closed the breech block in one fluid motion. Bringing the muzzle down, she re-aligned her sights for her next target.
Another archer had gone up a pillar for a better shot and Yui fired. Unfortunately it was a snap shot, and between that and the smoke she wasn’t a good with her aim as the first one. She wasn’t sure wither she’d hit the archer or just the pillar near its face; the important thing was that she’d disrupted its shot at whoever it’d been aiming at. Reloading once more, she snapped a shot off at one of the fighters rushing their front line. She was pretty sure she hit, but the smoke was so thick around her now that it was hard to tell. There was no time for a fourth, so she set the gun aside and drew her blade as she stood, emerging out of her own stinking cloud to meet the attackers. @Lyla
The Broken Warrior, He who is Silent, Gentle Giant
&
Pious Sellsword, He who seek Vengeance, Callous Combatant
The Dreaded Desert, a place devoid of all but the hardiest of life. The cruel sun beat steadily upon the golden sands, distorting the air slightly in a sweltering haze. It’s malevolent eye unblinking and the sky it’s co-cospiritor, providing not a single cloud to soften the harsh rays. The lizards took shelter in the shadows of rock where the sand was not hot enough to roast them, but there was no shade for them, The Serim Knights. Each step sunk into the searing sand, the air was thick and hazy, each breath like drowning in lava. It was another clearing party, consisting of 3 Serim and 1 locally employed mercenary.
A giant, clad in steel towering above the men he accompanied. What brought him to this situation? Only this man who wore his silence like the axe on his back knew, if anything one could privy a suggestion it would be for the money, but if you would give Hafrbjǫrn the quality of choice, he would much more prefer the soil and ash that came as a boon with smithing. Though a contract of escort was not out this giant’s periphery, particularly when the Sovern seemed much more bountiful than a week’s pay at the forge. Trailing through the desert’s sand, winds as dry as opposed to what this giant is regularly accustomed to. His pace was but few behind the men that were now his employers. To what destination? He did not ask, to what task? He did not care. All that mattered was the Sovern which was paid half upfront already. The rest was but a gamble with chance, but Hafrbjǫrn could guess that it would involve blood. His size would translate the assurance of safety to travels, it would not come to him any surprise that he would be chosen for anything but the spill of blood.
And assurance was exactly why Hafrbjorn was hired, though not to the approval of the Serim body. Many felt the need for localised assistance was Soverns wasted, ‘surely we can handle a desert’ many proclaimed. Alas, the order was direct from the Grandmaster himself and any disobedience would lead to dishonorable discharge. However, this didn’t stop the occasional gaze of malice or odd statement. Garrett, the Knight to immediate right took a moment to speak, his visage sequestered behind the steel of his helm; providing a slight reverberation to his voice. ” Do you know what this Dreaded Desert does to a man, Epiher?”
He was addressing the Knight to his left and Hafrbjorn’s middle, noticeably stouter than either of his brethren but still a twig compared to their giant friend. “No?”. He replied with a scratchy gruffness, yet shifted slightly in timbre at its end. ” I’ll tell you, your tongue feels as if it’s coated with fur and you long ever more for crystal cold water”. His companion was beginning to chuckle yet interrupted by the subtle twang of a bow-swing and a swift-flying arrow piercing his shoulder.
Hafrbjǫrn was taken by surprise, as these lands herald nothing but sand, he didn’t distinguish the subtlety of camouflage that the enemy had gowned upon themselves. Another arrow was loosened into their direction, the knight whom was dealt the piercing blow, had been trembling at his boots, Hafrbjǫrn took it as a initiative to grippen his shield for himself and shield his employers from the coming fire. The arrow bounced from its steel, noting its direction, Hafrbjǫrn began to beckon the soldier to pull back to a safer location where they could tend to their comrade. Another was let loose, this time from another angle. Threatening to sheer through his flesh if not for this shield say so. Immediately, he threw the shield towards the direction that the arrow was delivered, followed by a massive charge. Axe in hand, he leapt towards the skies and brought down his strength on the target prying on the defensive after being compromised. A large yell on the part of the giant. The might of such had been delivered and had brought its target to their maker, with such Hafrbjǫrn did not waste a step to scavenge the bow and arrows from the carcass before. Retreating to his companions, he offered such as a means to counter-attack.
Whilst his companion sought the attacker from whence the arrow came, Garrett and Lae(The other Serim) tended to Epiher. Cover was scare but a reasonable collection of craggy rocks just a few meters of their location served well enough. Lae began to inspect Epiher’s wound, who had went into a state of mild shock from such. “You’re ok! It’s just a-”. She was abruptly cut-off by the sudden convulsions of his body, which ceased after a minute or two, the body lifeless thereafter. They hadn’t the time to grieve, for the twangs of other bow-strings became increasingly incessant and louder. Hafrbjorn however has successfully eviscerated one of their attackers, returning with his armament. Lae immediately seized it and carelessly nocked an arrow, resulting in a gash upon her hand. Unbeknownst to her, these arrows were tipped in poison, which almost immediately began it’s blight on her system, yet just before she collapsed she let loose the arrow; which resulted in something of a yelp from one of the oncoming attackers. She too convulsed and then fell lifeless. Garrett, began to draw his blade yet was halted by the sudden Thump! Of an arrow beside him. The enemy had them encircled and outnumbered them heavily…
Their movements were halted, Hafrbjǫrn could sense danger from every immediate corner. A cold sweat fell from his temple, noting that two of his employers now layed dead upon the sands, he had naught another choice but to lower his axe. He gave Garrett a final stare, the arrow have ceased their firing, the giant stood at his feet and rose his hands above his head. Slowly, but surely dropping his weapons upon the sand earth beneath his heel. At any other interval, he would chose death, but less employer or not, he had a duty to deliver this man to whatever the place he wanted to go. The bandits now surfaced from their holes, like rats out for scavenging. Hafrbjǫrn silence stood firm as his stance, he seem less worried of the outcome, silently mourning the death of two unfortunate souls. The concluded that whatever the arrowhead held could cause a swift death to any who was pierced by it. Enough was such that it could kill a soldier with a mere scratch. He ushered Garrett to do the same, better to be taken, than to be dead.
Garrett took a moment to gander upon his final companion, his facial expressions replaced by a masque of hard steel; revealing nought of his intentions. His heart beat like a vile drum, feeling as if it would pierce his own breastplate. His comrades should be avenged, no matter if it cost him his life. His knuckles went white as his grip increased on his sword’s, still contemplating his final decision. The moment lasted but a moment but felt an eternity, resulting in Garrett rising himself and surrendering. Their camouflage brigands immediately seized their possessions and bounded them by the wrist. Some members scoured the pile of weapons with glee, plucking an armament that they’d use for themselves. What appeared to be a leader of sorts approached Garrett and plucked the Serim Coat of Arms decorative plate from his armour, seemingly recognizing the emblazoned intercrossed blades. The rag-tag group began to move, and so did their captors.
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Had they finally reached their camp? These thoughts roamed on the giant’s mind as his feet dragged him to what seemingly felt like an endless trek. Enduring the shoving and weapon pointing at their behest, it seems they have finally stepped foot on shelter after around an hour’s time.. However, their feet shoved onto the bend of his leg, causing the giant to loosen his stand and fall to his knees. Soon after others from within the tents came and secured them in place. Of course, shade would be a commodity that only these bandits would leisure in. The giant turned to his employer, Garrett. A lot had happened in the course of a short time.., A man just lost two soldiers and what’s worse, two close friends. That he held grip to his senses as efficiently as he has was but a testament to this man’s force of will. Most men would be drunk with the need for blood, most men of power grit still are, but that Garrett know his odd is but a breath of fresh air. Hafrbjǫrn understood that pain, it’s not something to take lightly.
The grunting sounds of men in battle soon reached their ears, their eyes shifted their glance to the distance to notice the bandits squirming like mice to their predator. Something was occuring in the midst of the distance. Perhaps now that they are in disarray that it would enable the two a chance to strike. He delivered a glance to his partner, telling him to shift his sights and be wary of the signal.
What’d had the desert brigands in such excitement was the spotting of a nearby expedition group. Though exact details were unclear at best, camp rumors were that a Noble was spotted amongst the sub-par number of mercenaries. To these undesirables, a Noble’s head for ransom and the collection of Serim plates were fortuitous, but also fortunate. They could certainly risk more loss of life,, thus nearly every member amassed(some 25 bandits), save for the two guards stationed to the prisoners. With whooping yells and raised weapons, they descended upon the unwary men bellow.
Garrett, as astute as ever picked up immediately on the subtle motions of Hafrbjorn, and with the majority of their attackers gone, the time to act was now. The chains that bound their feet were mottled with rust from malcare, which to a man of Harfbjorn’s strength was like snapping a twig. With newfounded freedom the pair subdued their unwary captors, Garrett perhaps overly brutish with repeated blows long past death and Harfbjorn simplistic, one strike to bring Life to cessation. The pair found their belonging within a furled canvas, which soon found their respective places on their owner’s bodies. Garrett, secured his Serim plate to his pauldron once more, adding his companion’s to his traveling pack; They’d find residence in the Hall of Honor soon enough. They hadn’t time to revel in victory, for subtle, yet increasing footfalls were heard. Fearing that it may be the bandits once more, Garrett and Harfbjorn sequestered themselves behind a tent, vigilant, and patiently waiting.
….And what emerged from the crest of the immense dune were the bandits, yes, but fewer in number and fleeing hurriedly. They didn’t care for the absence of prisoners, just for their lives as they ran past the abandoned camp. Following suit were snake-men, the likes of which were varied in coloration and weaponry. Whatever they were was a force not be toyed with. The pair waited for a while until reemerging. ”Cowards, the lot of them. They deserved whatever fate befell them past that dune. Speaking of, we should investigate that. They appeared to have driven them off, maybe they know where the hell we are?. The giant had no rebuttal, only the slightest nod of his head indicated his agreement. The pair descended the dune to see a ruin, derelict, but still standing.
Cobblestone and dry weet adorned the walls which hid the effervicent markings which dusts off the walls with the mere semblance touch. The odour of decay and mites plagues the seams, and the thought arose on Hafrbjǫrn that this place seemed much more bountiful than the area’s prior to their initial camp, yet the thought was encroached by the visage of corpses embellishing the seams with their blood. Garrett, who initially seemed reluctant heaved a sigh which Hafrbjǫrn could not discern. Unbeknownst to the giant if it were one garnered in impatience or relief, Garrett spoke with certainty: “Amidst it all, it seems those creatures are the bearers of misfortune for these rats.” Indeed, the corpses were once the mercenaries who took refuge here, along with the brigands who took the pair captive. The dryness in the air had subtle down to a humid musk. There seemed to be at least a source of water among these ruins to have cause such to engrave itself upon the atmosphere.
There were many details hidden amidst the stones, many secrets which were craving limelight, but Hafrbjǫrn felt tense. This isn't a place to lower their guard. He paced closer to the bodies, their flesh was colorless, pale as if their life had been drained straight from their lungs. Their eyes rolled to the back of their heads, veins still protruding from their neck and arms, a great deal of struggle had befallen these people… Hafrbjǫrn stroke his beard, examining bodies as thoroughly as he could, Garrett began doing the same, but Hafrbjǫrn halted him. Tapping his temple, as if to remind him to think, there was something odd, never overstep the bounds, he demonstrated how to move the bodies, how to maneuver them as to not make contact to any off hand mucus or musk. Garrett quickly picked up. “I see, you are suggesting that these too, were inflicted with some type of poison.”
With that beacon of understanding, Hafrbjǫrn continued to pace towards the seeming distance, there were footsteps on the ground, his survivability and instinct began to kick in. There were more here, more people around that still drew breath. Garnishing his battle axe in hand, the brute would befall on any the might of a giant’s wrath. He was not to play hide-and-seek for much longer, this irking sensation boiled upon his blood like the fires with lit the oven at his forge. If they were to search for safety and perhaps more, the way was further in.
Garrett caught the tension within the air, the drawing of Harfbjorn’s axe on cue with numerous footfalls behind. He attempt to count, 5?, 7?, 15? To indistinct to count properly but surely a force that outnumbered them. The knight drew his sword, the blade meeting the opposite of Harfbjorn’s axe, though wordless, the action spoke; Halt. Garrett spoke, in a hushed tone that could be carried of in the wind. ”We must choose our battles, friend. If those...things were capable of striking down some 30 men, then what is 2 to them? Your ire is not without understanding, but to attack would be unwise as best. Come, through this corridor, we will wait for the things to pass. Then, we leave”. Harfbjorn regarded his words carefully and realized that they spoke truth. The giant sheathed the great armament, for now, and followed his newfound companion through the slim, dank, corridor; hunching slightly due to his stature.
The corridor was short and eventually reached an expensure, which ended in a room. Akin to the previous, this one was lined with the dead. The aforementioned bandits, and mercenaries, whom crest Garrett recognized. “Lion’s Teeth”. He spoke, pointing to a corpse doned in modest armour, emblazoned with a roaring lion upon the cuirass. “And Dragon’s Breath”. These were dressed not in armour but instead black robes tied with crimson cloths. Tombs lined the opposite wall with their lids torn asunder, he hypothesized that the snake creatures had come from there and upon noticing the somewhat circular fashion the mercenaries were sprawled in, he deduced that they made a final stand on two fronts. “Outnumbered heavily and surrounded on both ends, yet none faltered, standing like undying sentinels to the oncoming storm. They fought to the final breath, not as individuals, but as one united force. You all would’ve made fine Serim...rest in peace”. Garrett acquired two blades, one from each band, which confused Harfbjorn initially. The knight noticed the bewilderment and offered an explanation. “These swords will find homes in the Hall of Honor, where the Serim honor fallen heroes, Order or Not. Epiher’s and Lae’s crest will also go there….providing we live past this encounter”. Speaking of his comrades pained Garrett heavily, the emotional wounds were still fresh but he would keep moving, pushing, until they could be lain to rest.
Crackow!!!
A thundering blast echoing throughout the structure, abnormal, and nothing Garrett had heard the likes of. There was shouting now, and the telltale sounds of weapons being drawn. Whomever was through the corridor’s was beginning to battle, probably the snake-men from earlier. Garrett regarded his companion with eyeslits and steel. “..What say you in avenging the fallen?”. The giant gave a look that formally spoke; Let’s do it. But informally; Hell yeah. The pair, sword and axe in hand rushed through the halls and were soon met with the Bloodrose Irregulars, of whom were ensuing in battle. “We mean no harm but it appears as if you could use assistance. And what’re two able bodies to a company? I’ll tell you. It’s an advantage”
Harf and Garrett, along with two other Serim(Lae and Epiher) trek the desert. Ambushed by bandits. Lae and Epiher are killed Harf and Garrett taken captive The group treks through the desert, eventually coming to their camp. Bandits spot the Noble's group Bandits descend After some time, Bandits are seen retreating, snake-men giving chase. Harf and Garrett examine the ruins, finding bodies and such. Hearing the Bloodrose Irregulars enter, they mistake them for the snake-men and retreat further into the ruin. After some time, they Hear a shot from Yui's rifle and decide to investigate. When the pair find the Bloodrose Irregulars, they Offer help. End.
Jenramo felt the sensation of the venom being drawn from his system, he knew that eventually he would have had to have the venom cured but he had figured that his Beloved Memory would delay the effects long enough to finish at least this one battle, in every fight there is a risk involved, how much of your resources should be used on a single person, should one be prioritized over others, Jenramo has spent too many years fighting with the sword he had created, he knew that his actions would tend to be reckless, however, no matter how reckless he became, he always sought to be the shield for his allies. "I will try to not need assistance again." He called back in as close to a thank you as he felt willing to give to Gwen, and charged into the fray after the resounding boom of the rifle Yui wielded.
The men arriving behind them were offering their aid, or at least that was what he thought they were saying, at this point, Jenramo was already charging into the battle and confronting the first of the swordsmen, his blackened blade arcing upward toward the snakeman, the scaled body offering little resistance as the edge sliced through the stomach towards the arm, the blood pulling towards the blade, darkening to the color of ash and drawing itself to Jenramo. The ashen blood filled the hole left by the arrow from earlier and fell away to reveal the damage repaired.
The body of one of the snakemen now lying at his feet he stood ready to hold the line against them alongside the his companions, and while he knew that the venom they used was still lethal to him, he had the best chance of surviving without immediate aid so he readied himself to intervene against the arrows that flew by, he would try to deflect any that came by him and if he couldn't he knew that he could take the blow at the very least, as another snakeman approached Jenramo saw the archers readying another volly. The arrow flew toward the back line, and the other swordsman approached, he could only deal with one. With a flick of his blade, the arrow was knocked aside as the blade sank into his side, Jenramo turned the blade in his hand and drove it down into the foe, the ashen blood coated the wound again, leaving it repaired, he looked to the others, there were still many more.
Pox heard the call of battle behind him and quickly looked back to his trap. He had to set the line quickly, as he had to get back there to keep an eye on everyone. He wondered if he could use the pillars as- nope they were climbing the pillars. Actually there wasn't alot of practical cover for any of them, and those arrows were going to be their real trouble considering the amount and their danger. He could already see Gwen heal the first wound. It made him look back to check again.
And he managed to catch the stick hurtling towards him just in time. Pox hit the deck/ fell back and the javelin hit the hallway infront of him with a loud "YIPE!" He took a breath, feeling his heart pound before he reached for his crossbow. The bolt held a vial of his tranquilizers but considering they were snakes, he wondered what their resistances were.
And suddenly he saw a shadow come over him and he looked up with another yelp.
A giant of a soldier, clad in plate. He was imposing huge, and Pox was tempted to turn the cross bow on him, but then another came, a man, a wild looking man, dangerous. Two foes! This wasn't- "What?" They offered their assistance. "Oh. Oh yeah! Great! Go! Go forth!" he invited them to join the fray. Whelp, so much for getting snuck up on. He couldnt help but smile at the turn of events. He didn't need to keep his Garda Eggs at the door anymore, instead... Ooooh. He turned, following the two men he had to get closer to the action to get his target. He tied the Garda Egg to the end of the crossbow bolt. A bit of fire should stop some of those arrows.
Suddenly, he turned his beak. The squelsh of blade to wound clicked in the air almost as if it was calling his name. He immediately looked to his companion, the Snake Man had landed a blow with its scimitar, a nasty chopping wound. Pox furrowed his eyes behind his lenses and made his way over, heading just behind the front lines to within range. His eyes, the lenses, and his hands took on a poisonous green sheen as he seemed to grab at invisible threads and pull- but he stopped, remembering what was called out to them. Indeed, he didn't get that prickle of blood that he was inherently attuned to. Some kind of enchantment. He sighed with relief. He would be okay, he hoped.
But Pox would take advantage of this vantage point, a break in the line of his allies, a direct shot to the aggressors. He aimed his cross bow to his beak and took a breath to aim, to lead. He didn't need to hit, but he needed to aim low regardless, better it spread before them then risk a miss. He pulled the trigger and the bolt twanged, carrying and egg sized bit of claw with it, the fuse catching during the action. The bolt would explode into fire, hopefully coating one, maybe two if he was lucky and perhaps breaking the charge of some of the swords-snakes.
The archers were another matter, as they prepared another volley to aim at them. Pox lowered himself as a smaller target, his hands going to his gear as he set the crossbow back onto its hook on his pack. "I'm gonna smoke the archers, keep them from aiming at us!" It would take a moment for him to get out the proper bomb for him to do so.
To the untrained soldier, the cacophonies of the current would surely make them falter and (albeit impossible now) run. However, Garrett had seen skirmishes aplenty and thus was nearly unaffected, save for the loud..stick? Metal stick? The thick alabaster colored plume obscured his vision, making it hard to discern it's make. It seemed as if the ranger had run low on shots, leaping into the fray as he did.
Oh. Oh yeah! Great! Go! Go forth!
And like that, he was snapped back to reality. The male..or at least the assumed male that addressed him was odd, no doubt, but not immediately hostile. The knight tossed the hefty pack from his shoulders and drew his blade. He was (fairly) confident in his armour to atleast stop a single arrow, so he moved hastily towards the front, where an archer had posted. He figured eliminating the deadlier threat would make everyone's life just that much easier. Once he came within 3 meters of the archer, the beast noticed him from its periphery and loosed an arrow in his direction; a snap-shot that had missed but startled Garrett some. It knew nocking another would be suicidal and thus drew it's own blade. And so began the simplest of Serim Fighting styles; Dance.
All Serim fighting styles are broken down into dances, But Dance is the basic and fundamental style that every Serim knows, and learns in training. It's the progenitor to the other more advanced styles, and consist of only two part.
Crawl, Garrett hunched as much as his armour would allow, keeping his gaze fixed to his opponent. His pace slowed dramatically, to that of..well..a crawl, advancing closer. The beast kept slanted eyes afixed to odd gestures, the combatants beginning to circle one another. Garrett's blade raised somewhat high and kept perpendicular to his body; so the apex, the point, is always facing the beast.
Flourish, next came bold taunt from the knight, beating his chest with vigor. the beast was lured directly into the trap, which would be ended with a bloody finale.
Finale, and when the beast charged the Knight, planning to enact punishment with a broad horizontal slash, the edge met nought but air, as Garrett rolled forward, evading the blow and striking the soft belly. Before he'd even allow a possible counter, he brought the blade up, rending flesh and eviscerating the archer. The viscera fell slowly and was soon followed by the body.
End
Casting the blood from his blade, The Knight sought after the remaining foes. Maybe he'd go for a decapitation next time...
