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The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ]

Zarif

The quartermaster, astride the towering dromedary, thundered through the dense patch of trees, an open patch of field lay between him and the bridge, and after that, a vast stretch of grass, ripe for a flanking charge against the bulk of the enemy force. All that stood in his way was an unarmored mage, a look of fear wracked across his face as the stampeding mercenary drew his lance. No, no time to line up a shot, he'd simply run this fool down! A hammer was worth nothing if it came after the anvil had been forced to retreat!

Zarif: RAHHHHHH!

He yelled, enraptured as the point of his lance drove through the poor mage's eye. A ball of fire, launched a bit too late, exploded unstably from the expired mage's palms. It stung, but in truth, it did more harm to the corpse than either Zarif or his mount. He shook the body off the bloody lance as they rushed over the bridge and down across the field below.

_{Zarif moves to F-27 and attacks the Mage #2 twice, killing him, but taking 7 damage in return. He earns 17 XP (2 polearm XP), and moves to H-29}

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The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ]

Zarif

Zarif, atop his trusty Salador, trampled over the fresh corpse of the hunter he had dropped with his crossbow. He overlooked the river, seeing the Kassites surround the other group. There really wasn't time, he needed to hurry. Then he glanced south, seeing his allies clump up as they approached the southern bridge.

Zarif: Alright then I'll swing around to the other bridge. That brute Lyun and the rest will be an excellent anvil to my hammer

He grinned, and the pair passed through a patch of trees, heading north towards the upper bridge

_{Zarif moves to G-24}

Zarif Leveled up (last turn)!

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The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ]

Zarif

The merchant wiped his brow as he readied another crossbow bolt, sweaty with the heat of both the sun overhead, and the burning farmhouses radiating from the north. He took a moment to glance down at his clothing, covered in grime and blood, the flow of which only stopped due to that... magic. He shivered, it did not bode well to owe his life so many times to a god of strange, foreign land. But, what could he do? Not fight? Run and cower while his allies waded valiantly into they fray? Zarif was a merchant at heart, but he was still a man, he wouldn't hide.

Lining up another dangerous charge, he braced himself. More like than not, He'd be accepting another of Zuzu's blessings in a few moments but... he could take him down, and time was of the essence. He had a clear shot forward, not many enemies for some time yet. readying his bow, Salador charged towards the lone brigand, Zarif easily planted a bolt in his side, though ate a glancing blow from a hatchet to his left arm. With just enough momentum, Zarif flicked his body backwards just as the camel rode past, and planted a second bolt between his eyes this time, with a perfect parting shot

_{Zarif moves to D-11 and attacks the Axe BRIGAND #1 with his Bronze Crossbow, hitting twice and dealing 18 damage, taking 13 damage, killing the brigand, and earning 20xp. He then moves to E-16.}

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The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ]

Zarif

The village burned as Zarif trotted away, that feeling of growth and accomplishment he'd felt at his kill mere moments ago turned to ashes, like the timbers of the collapsing barn at the edge of the small town, engulfed in ravenous flames. The merchant gritted his teeth, getting the small folk involved in such butchery as this was always sad. Unlike his allies here, they had little to gain and everything to lose from these things. He drew an arrow, hoping to make a doomed, too-far shot for some vain revenge on the theif who'd done the deed, but he already lay motionless next to one of the buildings, one of Siris' trusty throwing knives burried deep in his skill.

Zarif: Good throw, friend.

He and the soldier had a bit of a rivalry going, sure, but he did have respect for the sturdy swordsman. Each enemy he slew seemed only to give him more strength, not exhausting him like the merchant himself. He wished he had that kind of drive. Still... this was a sticky situation. Several enemies were fast approaching, neither he, nor even the sturdy Siris could take all these blows. Maybe he could draw their fire, lead a few of them away from Siris, and get some of the heat off of him. Of course... he could be setting himself up for danger but Siris... he's been so brave standing there on the front lines, Zarif felt a tad inspired, and a hint embarrassed, up here on his perch, though he would never admit it.

He galloped towards the enemy swordsman, and landed two painful, but ultimately nonfatal shots to his abdomen, before turning tail and galloping in the opposite direction. He shouted foul exclamations as he did, doing his upmost to goad the swordsman into taking chase

_{Zarif moves to C-12 and attacks the SWORD BRIGAND #3 with his Bronze Short Bow, hitting twice and dealing 13 damage (+1 from momentum), and earning 10xp. He then moves to C-9.}

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The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ]

Zarif

Zarif winced as the bizarre magic of this foreign god bound his flesh back together with thousands of tiny shards of glass. There really wasn't much pain, despite how it looked, but it never failed to make the merchant deeply uncomfortable. The gods of his homeland were spirits of the sand and sea, ephemeral, yet powerful. This was... something was different, darker, more tangible. Still, he owed the priest thanks, he'd been right at deaths door, and now he was back in tip-top shape.

Zarif: Er.... my giving of thanks. I uh... AH! PRIEST!

Just as he spoke, a wooden shaft sprouted right square in Iddin's chest! It went ALL THE WAY THROUGH him! Zarif felt nautious as he waited half a heartbeat for his robed ally to keel over, dead as the brigand he'd felled mere moments before. Yet somehow, impossibly, as if through some divine miracle, the man began chanting even more zealously than before

Both unnerved and a bit in awe, Zarif drew his crossbow and easily planted the bronze headed bolt directly between the offending archer's eyes, producing the effect he'd expected in Iddin. Hesitantly, he trotted off behind a small circle of trees, covering his advance

_{Zarif moves to C-7 and attacks the HUNTER #1 with his Crossbow, hitting and dealing 10 damage, finishing him off, and earning 30xp. He then moves to E-10.}

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The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ]

Zarif

Zarif blinked, and tilted his head for a moment, seeming a bit lost. Then he blinked again, looking from side to size from his perch upon Salador's back. Hadn't he just loosed an arrow? He saw an arrow burred in the side of that dead brigand to his left, felt the strain of a recently drawn bowstring in his fingertips, but he couldn't remember....

He shook his head. He must have blanked out again. What a horrible habit for a mercenary to have. Even worse for a merchant. Keep this up, and he'd get stabbed when not paying attention. Or, worse... have someone make off with an extra copper! He shuttered at the thought.

Just as he snapped back to his senses, he was just barely able to dive to the side to avoid a mortal blow from an oversized scimitar being brandished by a bearded sellsword. The blade tore into Zarif's calf, and he cried out in a tongue none within a thousand leagues knew a word of. It was all he could do to grip Salador's reigns to not fall off. Not a moment went by before the splintery shaft of a rough-hewn arrow grazed his shoulder, hot blood dripping down his arm, dribbling onto the camel's hide

Galloping away as quick as he could to get a bit of breathing room, Zarif quickly spied a golden opportunity. His pained exppression melted into his trademark sly grin, the same he made whenever he'd had some foolish customer completely under his thrall, moments before a very favorable sale. With a firm kick, he galloped Salador up past Siris, whom had just celebrated evening the score between the two. One swift shot later, and the swordsman's mark, the very same who'd nearly sliced off his own leg, lay dead at his feet.

Zarif: You... haven't the caught up with Zarif just yet, friend Siris!

Both grinning and wincing in pain, the merchant trotted his Dromedary back a few paces. He was losing blood quickly, and that hunter could be anywhere... he needed that priest to tend these wounds quickly, else the company would need find another quartermaster.

_{Zarif moves to D-10 and attacks the Brigand Sword #2 with his shortbow, hitting and dealing 5 damage, finishing him off, and earning 30xp, and leveling up. He then moves back to to C-8.}

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Zarif Leveled Up!

The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ]

Zarif

The exhausted, demoralized Kassite defenders fell upon the spears, swords, and arrows of the Hellion sellswords, one after another. Expressions of stark fearlessness in defense of their home quickly turned to frenzied panic, as the walls surrounding the Citadel became a deadly inescapable trap.

All battles come to this... Full of honor and glory, until they aren't.
The once-merchant's eyes looked on somberly as they died, so full of fear, little more than boys.

His men now dropping like so many flies, only the commander stood firm, his heavy Bronze Plate shimmering resplendently under the crimson setting sun, masking the torrent of his life's blood poring from the wound Siris had planted deep in his side. The sea of his men, fighting, struggling, dying had surrounded him, getting smaller and smaller, until it now was just him alone, locked in battle against the fearsome spearman Siris.

Sensing an opening, Salador acted before his sentimental master had noticed, and charged through the gap in the archway to the Citadel. Zarif blinked, and knocked an arrow, as the camel leaped over a pile of dead men and broken spears. They ran out behind the General, arrow at the ready, flanking the poor fool.

Kashtilashu: "BAH! You sellswords lack the honor even for a dual between men? You'd fight for a diseased rat if it payed you!"

Zarif: Shin ithalkul balat-niel, Doth-shin shagóth-neï malag

The commander blinked back in confusion, trying to divide his attention between both Siris and the nomad. It was a proverb from the land of the Pharaohs. 1 part tin, for ten and one parts bronze. It refered to a fair trade, good business.

Zarif: Is their any honor, in a merchants scales?

The foreigner didn't give the dying man a chance to answer, and loosed his arrow. His attention still on fending off Siris' strikes, it took him in the pack of the neck. With a sudden great shutter, he staggered, and fell to one knee. His voice was pained, and sounded wet with blood and bile,

Kashtilashu: "Imperial dogs. . ! Your time will come. . .!"

With a crash of heavy bronze on the wet cobbles below, he fell dead, his heavy Axe splitting a small stone as it thudded beside him. Zarif watched, mournful, the deep red sun nearly blinding, as it reflected off his backplate.

_{Zarif moves to 24-9 and attacks Kashtilashu with his shortbow, hitting and dealing 4 damage, finishing him off, and earning 65xp, and Levels up!.}

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The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ]

Zarif

A veritable wall of enemies desperately tried blocking the way to the central keep, as that bronze-clad golem clanked down the steps and towards the breach. Briefly, the quartermaster pondered how long it would take to fully cook a man, walking around in a bronze oven like that on such a hot, dry say.

Even so, he had to do something before everyone got too bunched up. Zarif was not one for getting all up close and personal in tight places. Well, except perhaps... He chuckled to himself, and knocked another arrow.

Salador rode in a tight circle, and at it's apex, Zarif loosed the shaft on the poor hunter the stand-in captain Ashür had envenomed moments before. With a satisfied smile, Zarif watched the arrow sprout deep in the poor soldier's left eye, and fall.

_{Zarif moves to 18-8 and attacks the Kassite Hunter #7 with his shortbow, hitting and dealing 7 damage, finishing him off, and earning 21xp. He then moves back to 17-7.}

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The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ]

Zarif

Still feeling high on life, having gained a strange feeling of relief and accomplishment from his previous bout, and putting Makeen's failed attempted robbery out of his mind, Zarif and Salador trotted down the central street of the town, quickly overtaking his band of allies. He half cringed, half grinned, watching Lyun, as that mountain of a man took a spear man's head clean off in a single sweep, and near took another on that same backswing. We are of the fortunate, that one is on our side.

Beside the brute stood an odd looking fellow, wielding an even stranger blade. In all his travels cross the world, Zarif had never once seen a weapon so strange as this. The blade was a nasty one, with strange barbs along one side and a bizarre wicked curve to it. It seemed... a bit unwieldy, if truth be told. The fighting man holding it held himself with a strange air of confidence and agression... or was that just foolish arrogance.

Zarif: Well friend, let us test this one

With that, and a light kick, the pair charged forwards, and the quartermaster raised his bow, notching an arrow. With practiced grace, just as they got in range, he let the shaft fly. It seemed to hover in the air as it thundered towards the savage swordsman; flying, flying and... took him right between the eyes.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment, the swordsman standing there still, his sword half raised in brutal intension towards Lyun's back. A whole 5 seconds passed, as Zarif and Salador rode past, before the swordsman finally seemed to realize he'd died. With a bizzard half-screech, he fell unceremoniously to the ground, the arrow being driven deeper through his skull as his face slammed into the cobbles below with a wet plop, as his odd sword slid along the dirt.

The foreigner couldn't help but snort at how funny it was. One second so arrogant, the next flopped onto the ground, dead. What an idiot!

_{Zarif moves to 17-8 and attacks the Mercenary Am-Zikar, scoring a critical hit, killing him, and earning 36xp. He then moves to 17-7.}

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The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ]

Zarif

Zarif clutched at his arm, the small arrowhead sprouting shallowly from his bicep, crimson water dripping down to the dry dirt below. He gritted his teeth, and knocked a second arrow, a new feeling of resolve filling him. It was as if he had crested a tall and dune, and a small smile began to crack at the corner of his mouth.

Nearly as soon as it had been born however, his smile turned into a scowl. Like some kind of rat, that damnable Makeen snuck up behind, and nearly killed the hunter... ZARIF'S hunter.

Zarif: AHHH! Damn rat! You steal enough as it is, you will not be stealing of my glory!

Quickly, before the greedy thief could finish the job, Zarif loosed the arrow, taking the hunter between the eyes. Without another word, Zarif and Salador trotted off towards the others, glaring at the thief all the way.

_{On the previous turn, Zarif leveled up! Zarif equips his Bronze Short Bow, and attacks the Kassite Hunter #4, killing it, and earning 21xp. He then moves to 17-17.}

Zarif Leveled Up!

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