Legacy RP

Lotus

Well-Known Member
Member
@TimTh33nchant3r
As the battle progresses around Wilhelm, the wolves grow ever more fearsome. Just behind Wilhelm, the deep growl of a large beast brings the hair on his neck on end.

The circling wolves move in on Regas and are certain to pounce. His efforts with Vera have felled a few wolves, but their numbers and tenacity are not breaking.

The limb Camphor hangs from cracks loudly under the weight of the elf. He scrambles in the boughs of the tree to get a better position without falling among the beasts below.

Do you Turn to face the beast behind you? Rush to assist Regas? or Some third thing?
 

TimTh33nchant3r

Active Member
Member
Wilhelm hurls his ax with both hands at one of the wolves trying to overwhelm Regas, and then turns to face the growling beast stalking him. "Don't give up!" he shouts as he gets ready to wrestle the monstrosity probably leading this pack.

(And then I get wrecked like the guy in The Revenant, lol.)
 

coolpool2

Savage AF
The Original Gangster
After he told Clarissa his name Kappa set out with the vial safely tucked into his pack. It was a lovely day, and the ominous howls of beasts that may or may not be terrible did nothing to dissuade him.

Kappa travelled through the lands when he came across the wagon. He had packed everything he thought he needed and thought he might need. “Hi,” he said, his voice creaked from not talking for so long. He coughed a few times to clear his throat. “Well I suppose I could always use more rope.” He had packed some for the trip, but did was not sure if it was enough. “I doubt that you'd be interested in any tales I told. I'm not a very, well, interesting person.” Kappa thought about how he would always stay in the same place for a long time. Whether it would be at his workshop, or a waterfall doing field research. Still, he hated to pass up an opportunity to drink. Sometimes he got his best ideas while drunk.
 

Lotus

Well-Known Member
Member
@TimTh33nchant3r

The spinning axe flies wildly. Regas crouches low and sweeps Vera deep and wide. He shifts the mighty axe to his left hand catches the hurled axe with his right. "Thank ye'" He yells toward Wilhelm. A low, beastial roar bellows from within the stout barbarian. He swings Vera around and it bites deeply into a wolf. Using the momentum from that swing, he follows the spin to bring the loaned axe from high, cleaving the wolf's skull in twain. For a moment, the dwarf is a deadly machine of biting axes and the wolves offer up their blood to the might of the machine.

As Wilhelm turns to face the beast behind him, he finds himself staring down the gaze of a dread wolf. It's mangy hide was bare in several places where scarred tissue shown through patches of fur. Its eyes were yellow to match its long teeth, and were bloodshot with rage. The fangs of the beast were easily a man's hand in length and the bulk of the dread wolf made Wilhelm as tall as child in comparison. The dread wolf stood on its hind quarters and swiped a bloodstained forepaw with claws like knives. Hot pain filled Wilhelm as red marks quickly appeared over his left shoulder as a cascade of blood began to waterfall down his chest. The weight of the blow painfully forced the wind out of Wilhelm's chest and shoved him a short distance away.

The dread wolf lowered to all fours and let out a howl before preparing to charge and finish his prey.
 

TimTh33nchant3r

Active Member
Member
Wilhelm screams (achievement unlocked, heh) and steps back from the wolf around a tree, trying to keep it between him and the beast. Clutching his shoulder, he raises his injured arm to shield his neck against the vile monster. Wildly, he glances upward toward the trees. Where is Camphor? Maybe he could help.
 

Lotus

Well-Known Member
Member
@TimTh33nchant3r
Several small crossbow bolts whiz past Wilhelm. They seem to simply catch in the matted fur of the dread wolf as it snarls in response to being shot at. The beast shakes violently and the bolts simply fall loose of its fur. The sudden scream of a branch snapping as Camphor lands on the ground next to Wilhelm.

Camphor shoves a crossbow into Wilhelm's hands as he draws a silvered saber from its sheathe on his back. "If you get a shot at it's gullet, make it. This is a were-beast, not a worg. If I'm right, we may very well be dead." The knife-ear slides on his knees over the mossy ground as he swings the silvered blade. It bites deeply into the were-beast's calf. Blood sprays over Camphor as the beast let's out an ear-piercing howl of pain.

Behind the bloody carnage, Regas continues his bloody sweeping and axe-biting. He is covered in blood and fur and bile. Three wolves lie in forever slumber at his feet. Twice that many still surrounded him. One lunges at his throat, and Regas brings both axes together, biting deep and crushing the skull of the mid-air wolf. A pair of wolves, one on each side of Regas, use an opening to leap at Regas. Twin vices of tooth and fang seize each of Regas's shoulders. The blood frenzied dwarf spins, ignoring the weight of the man-sized wolves burdening him and cleaves deeply into another wolf. The last pair leap at the dwarf. In his last moments, he lets loose of his prized axe with full fury and deadly intent. "VEEEERRAAAA!!!"

The oversized woodcutting axe fashioned from a battleaxe cleaves through the air end over end. The whirring sound deadens the death throes of the dwarf under the weight of his predators. Vera sinks deeply into the chest of the were-beast. Blood and ichor spills onto the forest floor and fills the air with the scent of rotting death. The massive beast drops to all fours and lets out a long and vicious roar at its original prey, Wilhelm.
 
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TimTh33nchant3r

Active Member
Member
Wilhelm mumbles to himself as Camphor hands him the crossbow, "Were-beast? This is bullshit." Then suddenly, an ax goes whizzing past him into the were-wolf as Regas falls. "Regas, NO!" Wilhelm shouts. "What have I gotten us into..." he thinks as a shower of accursed blood rains down upon the leaves of the undergrowth. The wretched howl of the beast draws out to a close, and in that moment Wilhelm knows the moment of truth is now. Time seems to slow, a droplet of terror-infused sweat glistens in the sunlight midair, shaken off his forehead by the sudden glance at Regas. He can see the legs of the wolf-thing tense, and slowly, so slowly, the tip of the crossbow raise to point at it. In a dance like unto the alignment of the heavens, the bolt sluggishly aims directly at the lupine fiend's face, and Wilhelm squeezes the firing lever. Then there is nothing left to do but pray...
 

Tirin

God-Emperor of Tealkind
Moderator
His sense for danger and evil not yet so acute as Ser Gabriel's, Salah was oblivious to as much as the storm suddenly began, and his awareness was not heightened by the downpour of rain pattering on his plate. He endeavored to get his horse under control as it reared, the lightning having brought the beast to buck against him - or so it seemed to him. It was only when his companion leapt from the saddle that Salah saw the arrow embedded in Zealot; his immediate reaction was to drop from his own and draw his blade, turning to face the left side of the road and cautiously moving forward with his shield up. Unlike Ser Gabriel, he left his visor down as he advanced - the plains of Arcadia provided little cover for their attackers, but the same was true for the two Knights of the Phoenix.

"Who dares assault knights of Archades!?" He roared, his voice overshadowing both the rainfall and boom of thunder. While making your position better-known to your ambushers than it already was would seem, perhaps, a poor tactic, Salah's reasons were twofold: he could not possibly defend his steed from arrows loosed by a remotely competent archer, but his armor and shield would (he hoped) prove enough to protect him while he drew fire away from it. Better still, drawing fire would help both knights in pinpointing their attackers' location; to ensure he could find them after their next shot, the younger listened closely for the twang of bowstrings above the noise while his gaze swept over the flatlands.
 

Lotus

Well-Known Member
Member
@Tirin @Easy
Thunder rolled across skies as the winds shifted direction. The fields of hops leaned harshly under the weight of the mid-spring storm. Lightning arced across the sky and for a few moments it was bright as day on the Archadian road. One second, two seconds, three seconds passed before the thunder roared again like a raging beast in the clouds. A pair of arrows let loose toward the Phoenix Knights, but the fierceness of the storm threw the arrows harmlessly away. It was if the storm had come to watch over the pair and protected them from their attackers.

There was movement between the rows of hops. Two, four, seven figures crouched and ran through the muck and mud forming on the hard surface of the farmland. Their tracks would be easy to follow for the next few minutes, and then would be lost forever thanks to the power of nature. Zealot roared with the fury of his breed. A pure bred Archadian warhorse trained to fight alongside his rider. Both knights knew their horses were trained to wait in case they left them behind. They also knew that the thick sort of mud that created by a storm such as this might cause injury to their mounts.

Lightning lit up the sky once more, revealing a dark pillar of destruction several miles south of the ambush. A barn flew into the air and crashed to the ground nearby. The rain stopped as the wind heightened to deafening levels. The whole of the sky was lit in a bright green light that cast an eerie glow over the plain.

The multiple figures ran. The knowledge that the winds left their arrows practically flightless filled them with fear. As the dark pillar moved closer, the shadowy figures ran to the shelter of the local farmhouse's storm shelter.
 

Lotus

Well-Known Member
Member
@TimTh33nchant3r
The were-beast flew from its rear haunches at Wilhelm. The tree the young priest used for cover snapped as the massive creature barreled through it. Wood splinters exploded around them. The tree itself, like many of the trees in the haunted wood, was weak and its wood was brittle. Matted fur and flesh buried Wilhelm as he let loose his single bolt.

Camphor climbed to his feet and whirled around with a pained look of terror as he witnessed Wilhelm get tackled and overwhelmed by the beast. He held his blade high over his head. The stance was the elven high guard. He slowly approached the beast that had grown quiet. "Wilhelm! Speak if you are able." He circled around the great beast and fell to his knees as the human gave no immediate response. "Alas, a good cook you were, but your courage shined bright even in this dark place." He pulled a branch of holly leaves and berries from a pocket within his tunic and pressed it into the dirt. "May your blood and sacrifice fuel the life of this tree, and may it forever stand as a symbol of what you did today." Camphor gave a old elven burial ritual in the old tongue. "Fair well, friend." He then climbed to his feet and brushed the mud, blood and leaves from his leggings. "I'll see to it that your share of this job goes to your family, and that your efforts here are not in vain."

The somber sound of his blade slowly sliding into its sheath echoed in the silence that overcame the Haunted Wood.

From underneath the great fallen wear-beast, Wilhelm struggled for air. His face was full of matted fur that reeked of death, and the hand crossbow given to him pressed sharply into his own sternum by the weight of the beast.

Regas's tattered form laid in the center of a circle of blood and gore. Two wolves slinked away from the bloody scene to lick their own wounds. Around the dwarf laid the remains of seven fallen canines. He'd spent his last breath in an attempt to protect Wilhelm, and it seemed to Camphor that the dwarf's attempt had gone in vain.

The knife-ear mourned in silence.
 

TimTh33nchant3r

Active Member
Member
Pain. In a flash, everything had begun moving again, and Wilhelm was buried 'neath the beast. It hurt. Something was jabbing him. The crossbow, with the weight of the monster behind it. With a herculean effort, the young human shimmied to one side of the crossbow, leaving a bad gash where the wood had dragged along his abdomen. His breathing easier, he found that everything still hurt. He looked to his left and noticed his blood pouring out onto the ground from his injured shoulder. Well, that wasn't good, he mused in a state of semi-shock. Hadn't Camphor been with him a moment ago?

"H-help..." he gurgled weakly. He wheezed as he drew in another half-breath, and everything hurt some more. He numbly thought that he must have broken at least one rib when the monster plowed his crossbow into him. "Camphor?" Another hellishly painful breath. "Are you...*wheeze* there?" Wilhelm felt oddly grateful for the presence of the crossbow, despite it gouging him a little bit ago. It was holding a little bit of the corpse's weight off of him. In fact, he felt a strange sort of animistic friendliness toward the thing, as if it were a new-found ally. Not that he wouldn't have liked Camphor to be here too. They could all be friends together, Wilhelm, the crossbow, and Camphor, he thought blearily to himself.
 

Easy

Right Honorable Justice
Member
"Wait!" Already expecting Ser Salah to rush after the scum, Gabriel grabbed him by the shoulder from behind with his free hand. "I'll go in and engage, you lead the horses!" He pointed at the approaching column. "We need to get them to shelter!" He didn't wait for an argument, but snapped his visor closed and took after the bandits at a run, drawing his sword as he went. He had his reasons, of course; the confines of the dwelling were likely small enough that both knights together would simply get in each other's way, and Ser Gabriel was the more experienced fighter of the two. His saber was better-suited to such close quarters than the other man's bastard sword as well, with less reliance on wide, sweeping overhand swings to be effective. But this wasn't the time for explanations.
 

Jeroth

Mach Ambassador
Moderator
Valgen grunted as Mordrin gave orders to him. It was a simple caravan guard job. Protect the caravan, explore the world, make some cash, deal with Mordrin's mood.

Once the caravan stopped, he could hear the sounds of Mordrin's joy while chatting to a potential customer.

"Wildlings? Aye. I'll keep an eye 'oot."

Valgen moved towards Argata, making their way around the perimeter to make certain they wouldn't have to deal with any wildlings or wild animals.
 

Lotus

Well-Known Member
Member
@Jeroth
A short distance away from the caravan's camp, the pair of patrolling dwarves come across a moss-covered stone face carved into the side of a hill. Large tracks cover the loose dirt. The tracks appear to be large wildebeast, perhaps caribou. The trail is likely a herd trail. Following it would likely lead to water. Smaller tracks wander just outside the main trail. These smaller tracks are narrow and long as well as deeper than the tracks of the caribou.

"Looks like troll, likely young troll, but still troll." Argata kneels down to touch the warm prints. "Pretty fresh too, maybe just a few hours old. With any luck, it'll have already moved on, following the herd." He stood up and brushed the dirt on his leggings. "Mordrin doesn't pay enough to fight a troll, so let's hope it doesn't come to that." He chuckles. "Good news is, wildlings avoid the trolls even more than us, so no chance of running into them around here. Let's head back to camp, unless you want to look around some more." He eyes the stone carving. "Supposed to be old mines in these parts, and ruins even older than the mines. We might even strike it rich and ol' Mordrin'll be licking our boots." He laughs boisterously.
 

Lotus

Well-Known Member
Member
@coolpool2
"Ah-hah, of course lad! Men, bring us a seat and a cask, make it a fresh one!" Mordrin waved his orders to his men who were still setting up camp. One plump dwarf of a younger age, still not yet in his beard, perked up at Mordrin's orders.

"Ye' got it, boss. Freshest cask 'e got!" The pudgy dwarf climbed back into the wagon and disappeared within.

"Aye, that Donavan is a good lad though he'll use any excuse he can find to get into the larder, though you already knew that by lookin' at 'im. So tell me, what was your name, and what brings ya here? I'd be glad to be of service to ya, if'n I can that is."
 

Jeroth

Mach Ambassador
Moderator
"Trolls, eh?" Valgen looked over Argata's shoulder, looking at the footprints. Valgen wasn't as great of a tracker as Argata, but knew a little bit. "Aye. Fer now, let's look around the area more. The cave might 'old riches or beasties. I reckon it's in our best interest to gander in and see what's there."

Valgen moved closer to the stone carving, letting his stubby fingers run over it. The rough stone braised against his tough skin as he looked it over, trying to see if he could recall anything about it.
 

Lotus

Well-Known Member
Member
@TimTh33nchant3r
"Wilhelm?! You're alive!" The knife-ear grunts heavily as he attempts to push the great beast off of Wilhelm. "Mother of Elves, I've never going to muster the strength to move this thing. Hand on just a sec, this should fix it." Camphor draws his silvered blade and begins the gory process of hacking away at the beast's neck and side. "I'll cut you a way out!" After a few minutes, the beast's head rolls off it's shoulders and lands with a soft thud next to its body. Almost immediately, the body shrinks down to the innocent and purely natural form of a young woman. The hair on the disembodied head shifts from silver-white to a rustic blonde. Hauntingly blue eyes stare up blankly at Camphor. Out of pure nerves, the elf gives the head a swift kick to knock it away.

"You okay, Wilhelm?" The injured man laid under the small frame of a headless woman. His crossbow pressed into her pelvis, and her bosom rested directly over his face. In another place and in a less-headless were-beast situation, Camphor would have envied him.
 

Lotus

Well-Known Member
Member
@Jeroth
As Valgen passes his hand over the large carving, some of the moss brushes away. Underneath are veins of a black metal. This close to the carving, he also feels a breeze coming from the mouth of the carving; a slow and rhythmic breeze that is akin to breathing. His thick fingers run along pictograms that are carved like tattoos into the side of the face along the cheekbone. The images might have greater meaning, but it was unknown to both of the patrolling dwarves.

"Looks like some kinda rune. Maybe magic. I bet that gnome back at camp might know what this is. They do magic, I hear." Argata ponders the idea. "We'll offer him 10% of the cut. It's quite a deal, right?" He heartily laughs. "Treasures and riches. I've got a good feeling, Valgen. A good feeling indeed."
 

coolpool2

Savage AF
The Original Gangster
“My name is Kappa. I'm not doing anything too exciting. I'm just travelling near the haunted woods for some financial affairs. Nothing that I would need help with. Thanks for the offer.” Kappa chose to not give out too much information. He didn't seem to have any bad intentions, but there wasn't any point in telling him everything.
 

Jeroth

Mach Ambassador
Moderator
Valgen paused as his fingers ran along the black metal. The mouth of the carving seeming to breathe was unnerving as he shivered. It felt unnatural. His fingers traced the tattoo, keeping the pattern in mind for his own benefit if it did turn out to be magic. A nagging feeling told him to leave it, but the insistent nature of Argata would be troublesome.

"Argata.. I dun think we should bring it. Place yer' hand near the mouth. It seems t'ah be breathing'. I 'un like that. I 'un like that one bit. We could bring the gnome to it, but I un think we should bring it anywhere near the camp."
 
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