Traversing down the winding tunnel, the Vah’lux released a long-held breath as the path opened up yet again to another pocket full of rats. Why?... She thought, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead that had inevitably mixed with the dirt falling from the ceiling. There had been a small glimmer of hope that if the group simply ignored the charred chest from the previous chamber, the rats would leave them be. But how absurd a thought such as that was. Perhaps being underground was starting to take its toll on the Goliath’s imagination.
No matter, as the creatures of various sizes charged forward with reckless abandon, the lean muscles of the woman tensed as she prepared herself in a combat stance. Although, she hoped to be faster as both humans in front of her were attacked and presumably injured, even as they continued to shove off several of the smaller ones. Vah’lux then noticed Gorosk rush up past her as he too went after the larger rat.
But the most obvious had been the creature who attacked and was clinging onto Renault’s arm by it’s putrid incisors. And while the floor was scattered with many, in a split-second decision, Vah’lux turned to swing her ax in order to either slice the rat in half or embed her weapon into its body, thereby causing it to release its grip.
Despite having delayed her shot in the hopes the rats would present a strong opportunity for the elven outsider's arrow to pierce their hide, her loosed shot strayed clear over both the larger beasts. Her wild eyes simmered with anger that was barely constrained, her knuckles going tight around the bow's neck with a menacing squeeze. She was equally very much done with the tide of vermin and their filthy lair, not because she resented them, rather because she was so pressed from every foreseeable angle to do this; none of it was as she wanted and she just wanted out. Like a pot set to boil over from stoking flames, her emotions were getting the better of her again, her ignoring the brutal crushing the fighter leveled upon a rat who strayed idle for too long. One moment it was there, the next it was pulverized under the steel head of the mace.
Wounded, disoriented, and now carved into its back with an axe, the rat screamed in wounded terror. The horrible, shrill noise it gave off that only a portion of their ears could take in was a rainbow more dreadful on countless other levels. It sprung back, almost taking the axe out of the barbarian's hand, ripping itself free and turning tail to run as best it could before it could be carved apart by the steely blades of its humanoid foes. The other rat came to against the once more wounded man, gnawing at him but failing, flailing, and scurrying back to where it sat up on its haunches - whiskers twitching, nose almost assuredly drinking in the scent of blood. Whatever plan it was formulating, if any, was almost assuredly not in favor of any of the expeditionaries here.
The twirling, twisting tide of young rats that nipped, bit, and clawed at Quentin de Brey only scattered for a split second once his strike ended one of their lot in a flash. It was brutally swift and wonderfully executed, a blow that would have killed most men and given others pause, but these creatures had no appreciation for the finer abilities of a professional man-at-arms. Their upset attacks harmlessly washed off his heavy armor like rain upon stone, giving him an opportunity, or so he hoped, to find the next target who dallied just a bit too long between their incessant swarming.
The badly wounded large dire rat provokes an attack of opportunity from Beaumont, Gorosk, and Vah'lux when it tries to flee but makes its escape. The other large foe fails to find purchase in its attack, as do the lesser rats all fail their attacks against their target of de Brey.
The fighting had gone on quite long enough for Gorosk, the party had lost enough blood, they'd wandered underground far enough, and that rat was not going to get away. Gorosk couldn't really guess if there was much more of this cave left unexplored but he knew he didn't want this wounded rat running into more of his kind and dragging this on any further. This seemed to be a central room, there was no telling how many other smaller dens it might eventually connect to, better to stop the lines of communication here.
Also, fuck that rat in particular.
Gorosk ran after it after he and the others each whiffed their strikes, and took another shot at hitting it with a running kick. This vermin was bigger than the last one, perhaps his blow would land better.
The screeching - dear gods the screeching. Renault now understood why the Order had seemed so certain these wretched things were infernal in origin: no creature made by a benevolent god would be capable of uttering a sound like that.
As Vah'lux's axe cleaved into the matted fur and scabbed, leathery skin of the rat, its grip on his arm was torn away, prompting another cry of pain from Renault. He could already feel the sticky wet blood starting to form beneath his armor, in time with the throbbing pain that accompanied every hurried beat of his heart.
Turning to meet eyes with their Goliath companion, Renault nodded once in thanks, a bewildered expression plain on his features. Without time to say or do anything, the rat that was now desperately trying to escape began scurrying past them. Renault took a wild swing at it, unbalanced and haphazard without the dangling weight of the rat hanging off his arm. Predictably, his attack missed, as did any attacks made by the others. As much as Renault dreaded the thought of leaving so much as one of these rats alive, he knew full-well that such a task was insurmountable. They'd accomplish nothing merely stacking bodies in a pile, they had to destroy the nest, displace the rest of them.
Seeing the scores of young rats assail de Bray and be repelled by his armor, Renault wracked his brain for any possible ideas. The lantern at his hip could be a makeshift firebomb, if used accurately and with precision. But that would leave them with no light, if only temporarily. The foes they were facing were weak: but possessed unnaturally gifted senses that gave them an edge. Without sight, the lot of them would be almost certainly ambushed and overwhelmed. No...they'd have to think of something else.
Seeing no other immediate option, Renault took a swing at one of the young rats, hoping to take advantage of its distracted state.
Vah’lux lost count. It did not matter anymore. The putrid vermin would continue to taunt them all until either the rats themselves reclaimed their territory, or the group wiped them clean from the underdwelling. Either way, it was becoming a very long and tedious haul which was slowly waning on their emotions. The tension could be felt for sure, amongst the humans and otherwise, but that didn’t stop the small creatures from attacking nonetheless.
The Goliath responded with a nod of her own toward the Paladin just before he turned to attack one of the few smaller rats still scurrying about. And while they posed a lesser threat it seemed, their presence was aggravating at best, and Vah’lux growled as she shifted her weight to aim another attack at one of the nearest of the smaller creatures hopeing to slice it clean in half.
And all the while, the massive pseudo-giant hoped beyond hope that the tunnel itself would not come crashing down...
With a crackle of lightning the danced over her finger tips, Tracan drew back the string of her bow. This time no arrow sat knocked upon the sinew, instead just the faint arcs that carried from her. Her weapon as her focus, her eyes shining with bright malice and might she loosed the invisible shot and through her, through the bow, fired a blinding beam of blue-white light which lanced the fleeing rat. It had flown past Gorosk with speed that he could only register afterward and struck the fleeing creature through the flank of its chest, leaving a black marring on the fur where it charred flesh. It tumbled under its own skittering weight and rolled to a stop, spasming a few times where it had died in its den.
The elf's shocking outburst faded and the hum of energy so faintly around her dispersed as she grimaced in frustration, even at her own success. Brushing her mane aside and our of her face, her intense and angered focus settled on the other large rat, cut short by the man piercing one of the young rats and the other woman cleaving one in twain with brutal ease. At least its death was swift, forceful, final, rather than being left to languish of being pummeled and stabbed. Another of the lesser vermin was struck, this one tossed aside with a low sweeping strike by de Brey, wherein the mighty hammer cracked upon its skull and sent it toppling end over end into a side of the wall, bleeding from various openings upon its face and more than certainly dead outright.
The remaining three least rats and their greater counterpart changed targets and tactics, this time perhaps having realized their onslaught despite being so frenzied was largely pointless against foes who were seemingly more steel than flesh. The large rat, no longer immediately challenged by the giant, the orc, or one of the men, broke in a sprint after the monk. It leapt at his exposed back and as it collided with him, spinning them both around, it clawed at and bloodied his back. The other rats, what survived of them, squealed and hurried with panicked frenzy at what seemed to be their abandonment, immediately snipping and biting at anything in reach. This included the hand upon the axe which was being pulled back from the slain rat Vah'lux had finished, getting nipped and bloodied in the process.
Tracan uses her Wild Surge wilder ability to empower an Energy Ray. Her psionic touch attack hits the badly wounded, fleeing dire rat, very narrowly managing to kill it. Quentin de Brey, meanwhile, attacks another small rat and crushes it to death with his hammer; much like how Vah'lux cuts one in two after it was wounded by Beaumont.
The last advanced dire rat charges Gorosk and attacks him for 4 piercing damage as it bites and claws at him from behind. One of the three remaining small vermin attacks Vah'lux, threatening a critical hit but failing, instead only managing to bite her for 1 point of damage. The other two both attack Beaumont yet fail badly. It appears the rats are now randomly attacking.
Gorosk smiled for a moment as the arrow thing flew through the air and ended the rat he had missed. Little bastard had just avoided his kick, there had been entirely too much of that. Tiny disgusting little bodies, sharp yellow teeth, and the stench. It would be ages before they could walk in any city again without drawing looks of disgust, if that is they ever made it back out of this nightmare. Gorosk didn't have much time to think of this as a sudden weight hit his back hard and he felt the dirty, likely diseased, claws slice into his back and drag down. The beast's fur felt revoltingly damp and dirty for the instant it remained on his back. As the weight pushed him and the two of them spun for an instant the beast fell off him and Gorosk lashed out at the beast attempting to stomp it to death quickly before it can slice him any further.
Now assailed by the full might of the party, adrenaline spurned the rats to action: their base instinct turned to tactics and low cunning. Strong as their teeth could be, none of the rats were able to pierce through Quentin's chain mail. Having tasted the bite of Vah'lux's axe and the cold burning steel of Renault's own blade, they sought a seemingly less-equipped foe: Gorosk.
The final of the adult rats leapt on the Half-Orc's back, frantically clawing at his exposed and unarmored flesh. First turning to provide aid, Renault was waylaid by two of the brood working in conjunction against him, quite literally throwing themselves against him with little rhyme or reason. They fought as any young animal would: nothing held back, trying desperately to overwhelm a foe much larger and stronger than itself. The almost frightening craftiness of these overgrown rodents was not inherent, but taught, it seemed.
With the fatigue of battle turning his breaths to ragged heaves, Renault used a portion of the strength he had left to answer the rats' call with an answer of his own, thrusting his blade in hopes of catching one of them in their onslaught.
With a growl of annoyance at the small creature nipping the Goliath’s calf, and drawing a bit of blood in the process, Vah’lux shifted her feet slightly to reposition. The others too were caught up in a frenzy led by the larger rat, as the smaller ones scurried around to find purchase in their reckless attacks. But thankfully very little damage was done to the group as they each counterattacked as best they could, and the large woman wasted no time in slamming the bloodied hand ax down onto one of the smaller vermin nearby.
Ragged claws tearing into his back, the orc-blooded man on the path of self-perfection turned with a single swing leading his body. He acted before the horrendous creature could react, clobbering the beast square in the side of its head. But this time, as they spun together haphazardly from its reckless charge, the momentum carried with the overgrown monster taking away the power of his blow. When Gorosk came to strike the rat again, already was it reeling backward, feet tearing at the ground as it slid beside him and out of his reach. It hissed at him, dark eyes backlit by the glow of the lantern an the torch one of the prisoners' lot had kept bringing with them, throwing on the ground each time danger revealed itself.
Tracan's rage, however, manifest itself from the lingering electricity into the air into out and out flames. With a strong imaginary draw upon her bow, the static in the air was snuffed out with a snap and grew into mental fire. A bolt of flame shot from her fingers as she guided the shot like she would an arrow, a sudden blast of pointed fire hitting past the monk and impacting the rat. It screamed, for lack of any better word, in terror at the fire and likely startled Gorosk by the second of two random appearances of what seemed to be magic from the elf. Elves were magical beings, of course, and shots of magical fire or lightning were none out of the question, but this was strange; the intense heat was more powerful in mind than it was flesh, perhaps why the rat was more mortified and panicked than it was before.
Winding back with his hammer, sweeping around him defensively, one of the young ratlings was clipped by the lip of its steel head. It staggered for a moment, shaking off the delay, only to see its immediate demise. Beaumont's eyes fixed with its own as it drew a breath and tried to lunge but it was too late. Before it could register, the man's blow pierced its skull with a thrust, killing it instantaneously and perhaps with the most mercy in any one strike delivered this day. The point of the blade penetrated past, striking the cool, damp earth now wet with blood, and the paladin withdrew without issue, exhaling sharply and repeatedly, taxed by the chaos of the fighting. Quentin looked to him briefly, wiping the sweat out of his own eyes and where his perspiration clung to his now matted hair, only to see his chance; one of the two remaining rats turned to face the other human, only for it to be pulverized in a cracking blow by the fighter who nodded to his compatriot. What it had avoided in Vah'lux's axe strike, it did not in the warhammer's wrath.
The last rat, of the smaller variety, shrilled louder and in panic. Its feeble clawing, biting, thrashing came at all of them as best it could yet each time it failed. It would end here in this dark, dank burrow, likely without ever having terrorized the land above - a rarity in this dark green realm. The huge rat, despite this, gave one final effort and found terrible purchase in its frenzied fight for survival. Claws, teeth, thrashing, it beat and bloodied the lone man by it within an inch of his life, sending him reeling to one knee before he almost collapsed. This frontier, this so-called Savage Realm was merciless and brutal, and holding on by a thread as he was, Gorosk knew that better than most first hand now.
Beaumont instantly overkills one of the least rats, dropping it dead. Tracan uses her Wild Surge to empower an Energy Ray, this time fire, and badly wounds the last large dire rat. Quentin de Bray kills another small rat, leaving only one left. It attacks but fails to hit the killer of its second to last cohort. The large dire rat scores and confirms a critical hit against Gorosk, dealing 6 points of damage, this leaves the monk at exactly 0 hit points.
Gorosk is now disabled until he reaches 1 or more hit points or goes to -1 or less and goes unconscious, meaning he can only take a single standard action each turn. If he takes any action but a move action, he suffers 1 point of damage and drops to -1, going unconscious, after performing the act due to physical strain.
Gorosk found himself, rather unexpectedly, clinging to consciousness and bloodied on the floor. He scarcely noticed the smattering of long dead bodies reduced to piles of molted fur and jagged bone though he was now right among them. Soon the pain would hit him but for the moment he was still in shock from the grievous wounds he had been dealt by a simple but large and angry rat. He was, in a very short period of time, coming to terms with the idea that his life might actually very well end here beneath the soil surrounded by this filth.
He shut his eyes for a instant to try to draw his strength, and in that instant he was in the monastery once more. Holding a horse stance, carrying the Penance Stone up and down the steps for some minor sin, sparring until he could not stand, but now all of it was for naught. There would be no grand journey or purpose. Just a few more bites and a few months of decomposition and he would be one with the dirt beneath him.
He would go out fighting if he must go out. Gorosk staggered a half step toward the large rat and swung down at once more, trying to get his form in right. If this were to be his last punch let it be a proper one.
It would have been easy for any of them to underestimate the dangers of this land, filled with an undue confidence. After all, this mission seemed like naught but mere pest control, no? All that faded the instant Gorosk fell, his clothing now rapidly stained crimson as fresh blood flowed from deep wounds inflicted from the last of the larger rats, frenzied with pain and fanatic in its defense of the burrows that the adventurers had intruded upon.
Shifting his attention to the rat that had incapacitated their companion, Renault hoped to take advantage of its distracted state, trusting that de Bray or Vah'lux could deal with the last of the rat spawn. With the heat of battle dulling the pain from the wounds in his leg and his arm, Renault moved as fast as he was able to, hoping to attack the dire rat from the flank.
The Goliath briefly turned her attention to the Half-Orc only a couple of feet away, as Gorosk fell from the overwhelming attack by the dire creature. In addition, the courageous Paladin, as much as his aim were true, was just not true enough for the slippery rat as it was a near miss. With a growl of frustration, and simply wanting to be rid of the infestation that seemed to never end, Vah'lux shifted her weight, pivoted on the ball of her foot, and swung her other leg in order to kick the last of the larger rats across the room, ending it's miserably existence.
Vah'lux founded purchase with the hardened shin of her stone fleshed leg, cracking a powerful kick under the brunt of the great rat that was preparing to maul the half orc. The inner fury, the rage in her at the surface, the world went narrow and threatened to go grey from the intensity of her focus, set to kill the verminous monster over little else. All the frustration of weeks upon weeks in another prison after near a whole lifetime in another carried through her in a flash as her strike lifted the rat off its feet. It wailed in surprise although hardly for long as the blow crumpled its body around it, pushing the air out of its lungs. It flew the few feet into the filthy cove's wall nearby, crashing into the soft earth.
Beaumont, sword in hand, had swung moments before and was recovering his posture - as was Gorosk - but it was neither of them who managed the killing blow. Instead it was the stooped over figure who tried to right herself afterward. A hammer rung out afterward and an arrow behind her, the figures moving against the last rat signalling its death as well was followed by rushing steps. Backs lit now by the fire, they had killed a sizable force, which the rats were best described as. Not organized or orchestrated as an army but cohesive and numerous enough that they may well have been by any animal standard.
Despite the dripping blood and battered lot they were, one last chamber awaited them...
Vah'lux slays the large rat, with Tracan and de Brey managing to kill the final small rat. The party gains 225 Experience Points for their trouble and ending combat. Gorosk is disabled and at exactly 0 hit points. As a reminder, Beaumont has two Potions of Cure Light Wounds on him provided by the priest and it may be a wise time to use them.
With great satisfaction, the Goliath watched as the last of the putrid rats flew through the air from being kicked hard and true, hitting the hardened dirt wall and immediately ending it's miserable existence. She glanced around around the open area once again, to ensure there were no further threats. The fight had been exhausting, that was for sure, but the fact that she was under the surface any length of time was also taking a toll on her. Thankfully not enough to hinder her fighting prowess, but it was still there nevertheless.
"Who can assist the half-breed?" She asked, taking a few steps toward the fallen Gorosk and kneel down next to him to place a hand on his chest. "He still breathes, but barely." While her voice was fairly monotone, there was a certain degree of peace knowing that at least the half-Orc may still live to fight another day. It was the least that could be done for one who fought for the same freedoms the rest of the group strove for.
"Renault." The human Paladin's name felt strange as the words slipped from her breath, as it was the first time his name had been uttered by the Goliath. "Do you still carry the heal draughts? If so, our friend here will need it's magical properties sooner than later."
Running a gloved hand through matted, sweat-stained hair, Renault seemed, for a moment, to have not heard the Goliath addressing him. Sheathing his blade, he let loose a shaky breath as the adrenaline that shot through his veins like fire now slowly began to fade. Fatigue and soreness replaced them, his muscles weakly crying out with every movement he made.
His head turned toward Vah'lux as the source of the voice, Renault seemed confused for a moment before remembrance spurned him to action. Investigating his pack, he wrapped fingers around one of the two glass bottles. Even in this darkened place, the liquid inside, thick and crimson, seemed almost to glow when held at just the right angle.
The herblore and plant remedies that went into brewing such potions were lost on Renault. He and many other Paladins had once prided themselves on their ability to heal injury and knit together wounds with naught but the touch of their fingers, channeling their faith into being. But the monks, alchemists, and physicians who kept close their secrets of brewing liquid remedies would forever remain unappreciated; a sacrifice made for humility's sake.
Kneeling down besides their fallen companion, Renault took great care to avoid further agitating any of his wounds. At the very least, however, the clothes Gorosk wore would be a permanent casualty to their mission. Uncorking the bottle with a slightly audible pop, Renault held the lip of the bottle to Gorosk's mouth, using his free hand to tilt the fallen Half-Orc's head back, just slightly enough to help ease the concoction down.
The steady pour into Gorosk's mouth as the orc held himself on the verge of the conscious and living world alone proved as successful as the man knelt beside him could have prayed for. The brew of spell infused compounds had wondrous effect one it was quaffed and Gorosk's wounds were surrounded by dim glow that faded, the bleeding stanched, the gashes largely knit, the subconscious searing burn of them fading away from his thought. Coherency and cohesion returned at last, the bottle set aside and empty of its once blood-tinged contents. It was as miraculous as anything else magic could do, ever so slightly alarming each time in how extreme the contrast had been; a man on verge of death was spared his life by the magic draught.
With no further blood seeping into the exposed underground of their own, the threat was stabilized and all that awaited now was the final chamber. They had pushed back, nay, destroyed each and every attempt by the creatures to repulse them. Perhaps some had fled, perhaps some were absent during this hour of massacre, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, but it was nothing they could busy their thoughts with. Surely whatever of them remained, if any, could be taken by the militia and the peasantry who were set to resettle this plot, and only did that become possible by their doing. That made it no less ominous a future as Beaumont extended a troubled, tired hand to the man-orc and pulled him back to his feet, however.
With but one final potion in their possession which they may well need for the battle ahead after, the paladin thought better against keeping it hidden away again. Altering the leather of his belt just enough to fit the thin necked, thick glass container to fit against him, it would be ready at moment's notice - to work in absence of what once his hands could do through the power of Erithar. The fallen soldier and elf rejoined the other two in the meantime as they found nothing of merit or note in this cell of the rats' lair. Short of Tracan, who had avoided all harm, each of them appeared haggard although she seemed as indignant as ever that they were sent to kill these creatures or legitimately die trying; her bow poised low, arrow casually knocked, her pointed elven features on edge.
"Onward?" The fighter questioned, to which the others nodded or voiced their agreement, de Brey channeling his breath. Hustling, leading the group in order of their brief march, he was determined to again take the brunt of whatever awaited them next. It was his duty, his oath, and he was committed to not reliving another failure as his last, even if that cost him his life as price for the recklessness and overabundant courage.
It was then through the final bend they discovered the first sign of trouble, the torch he bore leading the way as the lantern the paladin carried opposite the potion on his belt illuminated the entourage. There were bones scattered upon the floor, gnawed, both human and animal and many of them. Presumably this was where they hoarded their larder and the reason why was clear. An enormous one of the vermin shrilled at them with a hiss and clatter of its teeth, its back cooped up against the wall, a size and body like a well-fed sow. It had heard them coming, carving through its nest, and it was all that was left now. Everything else had been removed and all that remained now was this creature, whose anxiety manifest as a hurried dart to one side of its room upon its legs then the other. It proved just as alarmingly fast as the others and cornered as this, they knew what danger a beast posed.
A lone Medium sized dire rat awaits them, presumably the den mother of the lair and the one responsible for the atrocities seen here. It is cornered with no way to escape and will fight to the death. The party needs roll for initiative.
V’arsuth! She spat, one of many exclamatory remarks of the Goliath people that could either be one of victory or a curse against such terrible luck. In this case, perhaps her comment was focused on both instances, as it seemed being in an underground dwelling was much worse than being locked behind iron bars. At least the sky was much more easily sought out.
However, the slow, but sure healing of Gorosk had been a much more positive site, one of which was about as welcome as it could be considering the lingering friction felt toward the Half-Orc. Still, there had been a twinge of regret for the terrible thoughts cast upon him, but a past of violence and abuse is very hard to forget, even if they were at the hands of a disassociated tribe unknown to her traveling companion. Or were they? Vah’lux wanted it to be true. She hoped that Gorosk would have been in league with the Orcs of Thraduum so the anger could be taken out on someone. Something. But, the Goliath were better than that, and could only give those assumed innocent the benefit of the doubt. What recourse was there?
As the group was ready to move forward toward what they hoped was the last of the chambers, Vah’lux reached her massive arm around to where the three heavy metallic javelins were slung along her back, fastened and held by by a leather wrap, and slid one of them free from the others. It had been awhile since they were last used -going on almost a month or more in fact- and the coolness of the steel against a calloused palm felt somewhat reassuring. The javelins themselves were rarely used for anything but ranged hunting, and a strong, precise throw could end any would-be game, or in the case of their current situation, an attacker. The Goliath merely felt the need for reach this time around.
The Goliath took lead, determined to get through the underground dwelling once and for all, and back to the surface. As though the stench of urine, soil, and death couldn’t be any fouler as it hung in the air near the next chamber, Vah’lux noticed the matted and dirt-riddled fur of the putrid creature while it skittered toward the back wall.
“Alone?” She whispered to herself, doubtful it was, but didn’t notice any further obvious threats. And with a resolve to end the creature’s life, and the heavy ranged weapon gripped tightly in her hand, the Goliath wound her arm back, and flung the javelin forward with all the power and accuracy that could be mustered.
The metal point and its long, balanced shaft hurtled with a swish through the air, almost entirely silent otherwise, and sunk into the exposed earth right before the sizable rat with a soft sheathing sound. Had fate veered ever so slightly in the mighty woman's favor, it would have struck the creature square in the head rather than make it pull back further, coiled tighter like a viper preparing to strike. A second similar sound overcame the brief onset of disappointment, although with being an arrow the snappiness of its launch from its bowstring was quite different, as was where it landed. The wild elf's finger's plucking the next from her quiver following the shot, the rat raged at first blood being drawn; the head of the arrow grazed off its back, slicing a wound into it and spurring it to attack.
Attack it did, for as the elf was drawing up her bow to fire another shot and the goliath arming herself, the creature's wild frenzy turned into a headlong charge against the lead man. Eyes widened at first under his helm, de Brey focused intensely and braced his shield, to which the dire rat slammed against. Boots shifting as he steadied his weight, armored hauberk clattering against Beaumont who he was shoved into, de Brey shoved back and aside with his shield - the creature's charge deflected for now. His expertise in protective armor and his presence that roused others to greater defenses saved him yet again as surely had the near frothing beast struck him, it could have downed him outright. Instead now it leapt back to its feet and snapped at any that dared too close.
Alone it was outmatched and outnumbered but its bristling aggression was unmatched and unexpected given its appearance. Perhaps it was the taste of its own blood in the stagnant air that riled it, perhaps the burn of the elf's arrow and its steel, perhaps the scent of all its slaughtered denmates. Whatever the case, it was not to be underestimated and this was something the half orc knew well after being on death's door mere minutes earlier.
Vah'lux misses her javelin throw, fortunately compensated for by Tracan who manages to land an arrow. Wounding the rat, it enrages and charges the first person in order, de Brey, and almost lands a hit on its attack. It is now next to the two men, allowing Gorosk to potentially step in from behind it and launch an all out attack on it.
Gorosk's last attack before he lost consciousness had seemed to him to be a solid well structured strike but he had overestimated himself and underestimated the danger of the rat. Blood loss, pain, exhaustion, whatever it was his last blow had missed and in it's execution he had once more departed from the waking world. This time not to his monastery and his waiting teachers. He had been greeted instead by a cold dark nothingness and intermittent indistinct distant echoes. Time meant little there. It didn't seem like an instant that he was out, nor did it seem like an eternity. A cool liquid sensation brought him back.
The potion had brought him back and coated his mouth, a strange sensation as his body knit itself together and the bleeding stopped. He sat up slowly and struggled to gather his thoughts. A miracle, not of Aeirdun or his own doing, but he was alive again. Gorosk became more aware still of the companions surrounding him and gladly took the hand of Beaumont, rising on unsteady feet with his help. The rats were dead, there seemed to be only the final chamber. He followed them, becoming more stable in his footing as they moved on, and readied himself for what would hopefully be the final encounter.
It didn't take long after they entered that final chamber for the rat to attack. Backed in to a corner it had raged about momentarily before throwing itself bodily into de Brey after narrowly dodging a javelin from Vah'Lux and being skinned by one of Tracan's arrows. Seeing a small opening and eager to get this entire cursed "redemption" campaign finished Gorosk skirted off to the side of the cornered beast and swung down upon it repeatedly.
