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Post by Donovan on Jun 1, 2015 21:37:11 GMT -6
OoC: Takes place immediately after "Where the Mountains Pierce the Sky", upon Ravvus and Donovan’s leaving Skaven.
The skies which had been so clear just hours before had begun to grow gray again, and soon there was some light snowfall. Donovan held his cloak tight around his body to keep in some warmth, but nothing seemed capable of keeping out the cold in these mountains. The mercenary wished that he’d bought a decent hat before leaving Lycia, but at least they were heading back that way now.
Unless one of the defenders of Skaven was some sort of magical creature capable of eradicating the undead alone, the village may very well be lost. Donovan was disgusted that he’d left the innocent people behind to fend for themselves, but George had been right. If he stayed he was sure he would have died. If it wasn’t the undead, it may have been one of the other mercenaries that had gathered there.
George’s hand went to his axe, he was clearly nervous, there weren't enough of them on the road to defend the caravan. It was slow moving, but they were not heading directly back the way they came, that would be too many days on the road. More days then they could afford. So they were taking a more direct and dangerous route to a nearby hub. The roads were steeper and the forests thicker, but it would be better than hoping nothing found them in the middle of the night. And it was only a days journey down the mountainside.
Donovan looked ahead in the distance and saw a figure. He couldn’t see much as the winds and snow were blowing too fast, so he threw his hand up to stop the crew, looked back at George and the two crept up quietly on the figure, weapons drawn. But it was not a monster, nor a bandit that they came across. Donovan recognized him as one of the potential guardians of the Skaven he’d seen in the village only an hour earlier, a mage, though he did not know the man’s name.
“You’re not traveling alone through these woods, are you?” The mercenary asked, hoping that the mage did not get startled by the sudden appearance of two armed strangers. George recognized the man as well and was thinking along the same track as Donovan. “We could always use another man on the road, I’m sure our employer would compensate you.”
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Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Jun 2, 2015 8:09:52 GMT -6
Ravvus struggled through the chilly winds which met him as he left Skaven. They were more severe than he'd anticipated. The hardest part of Ilia's winter was supposed to be over. It was supposed to be spring in soon. But it seemed that the cold hand of winter was not quite ready to release its grip. Ravvus hoped that winter's hand started cramping soon because spring was much easier to travel in. Spring was a strange thing to see in Ilia. It was a time when the country was almost pleasant.
Ravvus thought of Skaven and how the small village most likely would not live to see the coming Spring. The village was doomed. Despite the ragtag, motley militia, which was forming before he left, the village simply wasn't prepared. They had no plan of attack or defense, no organized battle force, and no one was making any effort to barricade the village before he left. The undead would most likely kill most of its inhabitants. Maybe all of them. There were a few, like that hard-eyed, blue-haired woman who seemed like they could keep the undead at bay for a time. But she was one of very few. If the undead attacked in full force, then the village would fall. And the mage had no intention of going down with it. He hoped the little girl made it out, but he wasn't holding his breath. The people of Skaven were in denial about their fate. Ravvus did not anticipate a majority of them fleeing.
But the mage did intend to fight the undead. That had, after all, been his intention when he'd arrived at that forsaken backwater. He wanted to confirm the rumors of the undead, and if possible, do battle with them. It had been some time since he'd encountered them. He'd had a run-in with them during one of the Pathfinder's expeditions. Back then, he'd survived by the skin of his teeth. The undead had ambushed them as the expedition was making its way back through Lycia. They'd swarmed the small caravan, either wounding or killing a third of the group's members. Ravvus himself hadn't been wounded, as he'd been fighting alongside Eagle and Erin. Eagle proved his worth, as always, in that battle, having swatting aside the shambling corpses like little more than gnats. Ravvus himself had held his own against them, but only barely. Now that he was stronger, a better mage, he wanted to see how he fared against the rotted monstrosities. The mage gripped the binder of his fire tome tightly and recited its' old incantations in his head. This time he was ready. This time he wouldn't just beat the undead, he'd destroy them.
Least, this was what the mage aspired to do. He'd been walking for some time, trying to find the base of the Spine, but he had yet to do so. And with no undead in sight, Ravvus was beginning to wonder if he was even headed in the right direction. It was possible that he'd simply bypassed them entirely. But based on how the Skaven villagers had been acting, Ravvus was under the impression that the undead were creeping around the village borders. He'd be surprised if the undead weren't close.
The mage pulled his orange cloak over his head, using it as an impromptu hood. The winter winds bore a bitter bone chill. Disheartened by the lack of dead people, the adventurer found rest next to an oak tree. Blankets of snow and ice sheathed the tree's branches, but the shaft of tree was somewhat barren of frost. Slinking against the tree, Ravvus heard a voice call out to him. Turning around, the mage saw a familiar pair of mercenaries with their weapons drawn. He looked at them incredulously. Who the hell offers to hire a man at sword-point? There was something very bassackwards about this situation. ”You two. I saw you back at Skaven.” He muttered, recognizing the men. They must have realized the village was a lost cause as well.
The mage eyed their weapons with distaste. ”Would you mind putting those blades away? Or at least pointing them away from me?” Ravvus kept his distance. The men did not speak as if they had lethal intent, but their unsheathed blades made the blond man very uncomfortable. Ravvus didn't know if he cared for this bizarre interruption and offer. A more volatile man might have killed them for approaching him with their blades drawn. Hell, if Ravvus were in a bad mood, he'd be inclined to set the men on fire. But no. Despite the strangeness of this situation, Ravvus spied opportunity.”That depends. Where are you headed? ” The mage spoke up a bit, just to be sure his voice could be heard above the windy weather. ”Are you expecting to run into trouble? Ravvus bore a stern facade. “That is the undead.”
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Post by Donovan on Jun 2, 2015 13:31:20 GMT -6
The winds blew with frozen force than made the mercenary’s sword hard to hold even with his warm gloves. When the mage asked them to put away their weapons, Donovan took the opportunity quickly and sheathed his blade. George, however, was less inclined to let down his guard. The green clad mercenary saw the tenseness of the situation ready to get nasty, wasting a perfectly good chance at everyone having a wonderful day fighting zombies as a family. He turned toward George, “I’ll talk to the mage, why don’t you go ahead and check back in with the caravan, watch the perimeter and give us a holler if you see anything.”
The grizzly old fighter smiled and nodded. “Looks like you’re finally learning how to use that head of yours. You’ll have a better chance of convincing him to join up anyway, I’m not much of a people person.” The mercenary walked back to the caravan, his hand never leaving his axe. His eyes were firmly looking toward the surrounding forest.
“Well, we are heading down and out of the mountains. Toward the trading hub at the bottom of this cursed pile of rocks. Which, I’d imagine, is exactly where anyone with their heads on their shoulders is heading, too. If the undead don’t get you, the snow certainly will. This cold doesn’t look like it will let up for quite a while.” The mercenary projected his voice as his parents had taught him. Though he seemed to be talking in little more than a casual tone, his voice was loud and clear even over the violent winds.
The mage looked at Donovan with a stern face. “Are you expecting to run into trouble? That is the undead?” The mercenary rubbed his forehead and his normally cheery display was gone in an instant, replaced by grave seriousness, “We all know that none of us are getting out of these mountains without running into those things. I’m sure you are strong, for my sake I certainly hope so, but if you get caught alone against them, you don’t stand any better chance out here than you did at Skaven. None of us feel like dying today. So why don’t we cut the bulls**t and facades, Grev will pay you well, you’ll have a better chance of surviving in a group than by yourself, and we’ll have a mage bolster our ranks. Everyone wins.” Donovan put out his hand for the mage to shake. “I am Donovan.” Behind the pair, Donovan could hear the caravan begin to move again.
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Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Jun 2, 2015 14:42:29 GMT -6
Ravvus felt the winds pick up. Drawing his hood a little tighter, the blond mage shivered and observed the two mercenaries. While neither of them seemed to be of an agreeable disposition, the one in green had the decency of compliance, having put away his weapon. The swordsman then said something to his companion, something which Ravvus didn't quite catch. But it did not matter. The other mercenary retreated to what looked like a caravan. Then, the man with green armor gave Ravvus his full attention.
To his pleasure, the mage learned that they were in fact expecting to run into the undead. But to his disappointment, they weren't heading for Edessa. Rather, the group was hoping to get out of the mountain range. The mage had half a reason to join them and half a reason to abandon them. He weighed his options.
For the most part, the green-clad man was polite and to-the-point. But there was one moment when the mercenary's actions got under his skin. He seemed to be under the impression that Ravvus was putting on airs, acting tough. That there was some underlying reason for him to be mistrusting of them. In truth, the mage simply didn't consider the undead to be a major threat. Furthermore, he didn't know if he wanted to help them or not. He stood a decent chance against the undead on his own, and he wasn't in desperate need of work. He was actually supposed to be heading to a job, but ended up in Skaven as a detour. Even so, the mercenary brought up a good point. Even if Ravvus was a master sage, even if he had control over every element, the undead were a threat. And he had no idea how many of them were creeping in the mountains. It could be twenty, it could be two hundred. The mage did not know. If it were the latter, if the zombies totaled in the hundred, then the mercenary's prediction would come true. The mage would die, just like all of the Skaven villagers, under the weight of numbers. Joining the caravan, at the least, would marginally increase Ravvus' odds of survival.
Even with all of that in mind, Ravvus did not feel greatly threatened by the undead. He didn't anticipate dying in Ilia, not now at least. But he knew the truth of the mercenary's' words. With all of the conflicting and opposing thoughts in his mind, Ravvus decided to reply simply, rather than eloquently. ”Alright. I will join you.” He said plainly. The mercenary reached out a hand, offering his name and a shake. Donovan. ”Ravvus.” He said, grasping the man's hand in a firm shake. Behind Donovan, Ravvus could see the caravan moving again. ”We'd best go join them.”
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Post by Donovan on Jun 2, 2015 15:51:39 GMT -6
The orange cloaked mage had agreed to join them, though Donovan saw he was apprehensive of the idea. Had the mercenary not been so well versed in body language from growing up in a theater troupe, he would not have noticed not the mage seemed to bristle at the notion that Donovan did not think he could handle the undead on his own. The green clad mercenary made sure to mask his reactions to the mage’s confidence. He is either very skilled or very foolish. Donovan and the mage began to follow the caravan. I hope it’s the former.
“You made the right decision, Ravvus. When we started out on this road, we had 13 men. We know for a fact that 3 of them died, though I’d wager that at least 3 of those that abandoned us fell as well. They were all experienced guards, too. Not the kind to be taken out easily. Toss in how overwhelmed Skaven seemed to be, and I’d wager we are dealing with a pretty large amount of enemies here. Depending on how many travelers they’ve killed, their ranks could be over 100.” The mercenary shook his head, “If it actually is that bad, then we might be saved by Skaven distracting most of the host. Hopefully we’ll only have to deal with stragglers.”
Donovan looked over at Ravvus, and saw that the mage was hungry for a fight, he seemed to want to take on the undead horde. The mercenary wondered if the mage had ever seen what happens to someone who is completely outnumbered by these monsters.
“The old fighter at point is George. He’s not much for creative solutions, but he’s got a sharp axe and about 20 years of experience on the roads. Grev’s the fat man on the cart. His wife, Sheela is sitting next to him, holding that crossbow. Between ‘em is Robin, their kid. They’ll certainly appreciate you helping out, if only for the sake of their boy. It’s a day’s walk to the Hub, and once we get there the roads get a good deal less precarious. You can continue on with us, or stay there 'til the weather's cleared, if you need to keep going deeper into the mountains.”
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Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Jun 2, 2015 23:17:43 GMT -6
Ravvus kept his eyes peeled, scanning the perimeter as the caravan continued through the forest. The green armored mercenary, Donovan, explained to him who they were supposed to be protecting. Ravvus sized the traveling family up in a glance. If anyone truly didn't stand a chance against the undead, it was them. The head of the family was a portly man. His name was Ghav, er Gheb? Something like that. Ravvus had only been half listening to Donovan speak. Gh- Gr- The fat fellow did not look like the type who could handle a fight, as evidenced by his wife bearing their only means of defense. She looked like she might stand a chance. That is, if she was lucky and got a headshot with her first bolt. As for the kid... he was a kid. And without an edge like magic, he wouldn't be any more useful than his large father in battle.
The mage was a little surprised that the majority of the family's mercenaries had been eradicated, or fled. He understood that the undead were a true terror to those who hadn't faced them before, but the death toll hadn't been nearly as bad when the Pathfinders had encountered them. The undead had managed to kill two, maybe three, of the members and wound another two or three. But that was out of a total of fifteen. The notion that thirteen mercenaries had been whittled down to two was a little hard to swallow. But then again, Ravvus didn't know how long the family had been traveling. It could have been a simple case of attrition. Continued attack after attack could have whittled down their numbers, that was certainly possible. The family had also been traveling through, quite possibly, the most unfriendly climate in Elibe. Only the harsh deserts of Nabata could match the deadliness of Ilia's winds. So the weather was a factor too. Ravvus also had to factor in the fact that this group of mercenaries lacked an 'Eagle'. When the Pathfinders had encountered the undead, it was Eagle who had had the highest kill count. The older mercenary, the one who approached Ravvus with his weapon drawn, looked like he could last a while in a fight. But he did not look like he possessed the super human talents of a man like Eagle.
Eagle. The mere thought of that man made Ravvus want to fight. The mage's blood boiled. His right arm twitched for a moment.
Ravvus glanced at his green-armored companion. The fellow sure had a penchant for talking. The mage's first reaction was to simply nod and continue examining his surroundings. But keeping up the silent treatment would not make for a friendly relationship. There was something about that mercenary. An aloofness which Ravvus couldn't quite uncover. The mage would prefer to be on good terms with this man. The two had little reason to trust each other, and in the field of battle that could lead to death. It was in their collective best interest to build a rapport with one another. “Thirteen, ey? What got them? Undead or brigands?” Ravvus inquired, striking up small talk. He was half genuinely interested and half invested in making Donovan feel comfortable. ”Well whatever the case, I'm glad we have that George friend of yours in our company. He doesn't look the friendliest type, but I bet he could split a zombie in two with that axe of his.” Ravvus pointed at the lofty figure at the front of the caravan. ”I'll probably have to part company once we reach that hub. I actually have some business I need to attend to in Ilia.” As the blond man spoke, he suddenly felt a light pressure on his body. It was as if something was watching him with evil intent. The mage examined the surrounding woods, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He shot Donovan a look of concern. ”Keep your eyes open, ok? I've got goosebumps.”
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Post by Donovan on Jun 3, 2015 1:41:02 GMT -6
“Undead. I never knew a band of brigands to leave a body as decimated as the few men we found. Picked us off one or two a night until it was just George and me left. The ones that didn’t get killed, ran off.” The mage was finally starting to pipe up, it was good. The fighting would go better if they had some sense of each other.
“I certainly suspect he has a pretty good chance at doing just that. I saw George get surrounded by 3 brigands, take them all out with three clean cleaves, all without even getting scratched. He’s a veteran of these roads.” Donovan looked ahead at George, the man was skilled and strong, that couldn’t be denied, but he was not known for his speed. Everyone had their weaknesses he supposed.
“I had a feeling you might need to move on, though I hope you wait until the storms pass at least before you head back into the mountains.” The pair continued on, but suddenly Ravvus looked at Donovan, ”Keep your eyes open, ok? I've got goosebumps.”
The mercenary’s eyes scanned the forrest, quickly. The road was pretty narrow, and the trees overgrown. There was a rustle in the brush. Something was following them.
Donovan whistled at George, who understood immediately and unsheathed his axe. “You’ve fought these things before, right? Anything particular we should on how to kill these dead blighters? Again?” The mercenary’s thumb pushed his blade up, readying a rapid draw.
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Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Jun 3, 2015 12:16:55 GMT -6
”Well that certainly sounds like the undead.” Ravvus commented, almost facetiously, when Donovan answered his question. The mage was still of the opinion that the undead were a small threat. One run-in was enough for him to feel confident in his ability to fight them. He knew how they operated. They didn't bring your typical tools to battle. No, the undead attacked with clammy and diseased claws. They were the kind to use their bodies as weapons, from their hands, to their bile, to their maw. And whats more they didn't only fight on a physical level. The mere presence of the undead was a psychological ordeal. They stank of maggots and rotten flesh. They reeked of a mixture of gore from their victims and themselves. And if one could get past such a smell, they still had to deal with the sight of them. Eyes popped from their skulls, exposed sinews, and spongey looking flesh. The undead were not for the light of stomach. But while they had all of these tools at their disposal, the undead had two fatal flaws. They were stupid and slow. The only attack maneuver they seemed to know was charging into battle head-first. And the average man could outpace the average undead. So long as you maintained spacial awareness and avoided, or countered, their charge, you'd be okay. Sharing Ravvus' suspicions, Donovan placed a thumb at the hilt of his sword. The mage suddenly felt the pressure intensify, as if the evil presence had just gotten a whole lot closer. Strange. He hadn't encountered this feeling back in Lycia. The blond man began to wonder if he was underestimating the undead. Jerking his fire tome from his satchel, Ravvus flipped to an appropriate page for battle. He muttered a few words in anticipation.
The mage looked at Donovan. How did he know Ravvus had encountered the undead before? Perhaps it was something about the way Ravvus had been carrying himself. Something his green-armored companion had picked up on. ”My advice: don't get surrounded, always make sure there's some distance between you and them, and don't attack first unless you know you're strike will kill them.” In the right hemisphere of his vision, the mage glimpsed a malnourished figure slink behind a tree. ”Cutting off the heads doesn't always kill them. So, fire and dismemberment work best. Aim for their limbs.” The mage remembered the traveling family at his back. If a battle broke out in earnest, they would be at the greatest risk. He turned his head so that he could see both them and Donovan. ”Somebody should stick close to them.”
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Post by Donovan on Jun 3, 2015 13:07:12 GMT -6
The mercenary’s companion pulled out his fire tome and began to prepare for the fight. Fire. Good. The always kept away from our campfires, they’re probably afraid of it in some way.
Ravvus gave him a curious look after he asked for advise on killing the undead. The mercenary had forgotten the mage never actually said whether or not he’d fought them before. Donovan’s nerves had made him sloppy, revealing some of his actual skill. Having grown up in a troupe, raised by actors and performers, the mercenary was an expert at both masking his intentions and reading others. Unless you’ve had a lot of experience with deception, you rarely even notice the subtle movements on your body or face that give away vital information during a conversation. His father had always told him that reactions are the key to a believable performance. In this case, the mage had been the one to bring up the undead, which was Don’s first clue, but the mercenary became almost certain the mage had faced them before when he’d seemed so excited at every mention of them, yet also so certain in his skill to defeat them. Donovan wasn’t sure in his assessment, but he was rather confident in it. A moment later, Ravvus proved him right.
“Cutting off the head doesn’t always kill them? Is that even possible?” The mercenary shook his head. On the left side of the caravan he could make out a pair of shambling figures.
“They’re here. George will want to stick close to the caravan. Which is good. He’s probably the most experienced of the three of us, and the number of people at the caravan will likely draw them there. You and I should circle around the wagon and pick them off one at a time, so they don’t overwhelm George. Does that sound good to you?”
Suddenly there was a long, unearthly howl. Donovan heard a bolt enter a body, and a dozen people - or not quite people anymore- began coming out of the woods toward the travelers. They all seemed to be heading straight toward the caravan. Donovan drew his blade and found his first enemy. A ghoul who had popped out of the woods right behind Ravvus and he.
Aim for the limbs. Aim for the limbs. The monster raised a claw to strike the mercenary and Donovan swung his sword at it, more of a natural reaction than anything, but the blade of his sword easily lobbed off one of the monster’s arms. This might not be as hard as I thought it would be. The revenant swung again and the mercenary leapt back, using the moment to make sure no others were sneaking up on him. The monster tried to attack a third time, but the mercenary easily took off its other arm before quickly removing it’s head. The rotten flesh and bone seemed easier to cut through than that of the living.
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Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Jun 3, 2015 13:47:12 GMT -6
Ravvus gave Donovan a nod. That was probably their best bet. George could defend the family, while the swordsman and the mage ran interference. Ravvus doubted he, personally, would do a very good job of keeping the undead off of the family. He'd only joined the group out of convenience. Accompanying this caravan was merely a way to increase his own chances of survival. While he did not wish anyone on this journey death, he would not be inconvenienced if his companions expired. As for Donovan, the mercenary still seemed a little green. He had a good head on his shoulders, quick thinking and practical, but Ravvus had the impression that the man was without experience. The man with the big axe would protect the family.
A small host of shambling creatures appeared out of the treeline. Ravvus's right arm started to twitch in earnest. He smiled. What ecstasy this would be. The mage gripped his arm with his left hand, momentarily stifling the convulsions. He needed to focus.
The zombies were a little faster than Ravvus had remembered. One of them had even gotten the jump on Donovan and him, before the former dispatched it. Donovan struck with precision and skill, clearly an adept with his weapon of choice. The mage would expect no less from an Ilian. Ilian mercenaries were the greatest sell-swords in the world. But Donovan didn't quite look Ilian. He looked Lycian, really. Maybe even Bernese. Duma's words rang out in the mage's head. It took more than hair color and appearance to distinguish a man's birth. Ravvus wondered what the mercenary's origins were.
”I'll take right.” Ravvus said briefly, edging away from Donovan and back towards the caravan. The mage took a quick count of the host in front of them. There were eight or more of the decaying men, not counting the one Donovan had slain. They moved at a steady pace, their yellow, bloodshot eyes trained on the caravan. One of them broke out into a limping run. That one. Ravvus would take that one. The mage trained his eyes on his book. Through his mouth, the blond man birthed a pair of fireballs to life. The orange orbs, calm and smooth, appeared on either shoulder. His intention was to blast off the creature's legs and let the fire take care of the rest. Motioning his hand forward, Ravvus felt his excitement get the better of him. The fireballs sped forward, wild, fiery tongues shooting out from their now unstable surfaces. Right as the fireballs struck the undead legs, the mage changed his mind. Rather than merely blast the zombie's legs off, Ravvus released the energy in his fireballs causing them to explode. The entire lower half of the zombie's torso had vanished in the flash of light. What was left behind was a shattered upper torso slowly being consumed by fire. ”Yes!” He hissed with glee. The mage's grip tightened on his magical tome. He was going to enjoy this.
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Post by Donovan on Jun 3, 2015 15:26:43 GMT -6
“I’ll take right.” The mercenary was glad the orange cloaked mage was willing to follow his plan. It wasn’t so much that the mercenary thought it was the best plan in the world, rather Donovan thought it would be useful for them all to know what each other was doing. As quickly as one undead began to move faster than the others, Ravvus had conjured two balls of fire out of the air. Donovan was glad to be fighting alongside a mage with these creatures. Especially one who seemed very skilled with his magic.
The mercenary set his sights on a revenant that was lagging behind the others. If Ravvus used his magic to take out the ones in the lead, and Donovan took out the ones lagging behind, then George would be able to easily dispatch the rest. Donovan charged at the slower undead and rammed into it with his shoulder. The monster fell to the ground with a disquieting squish. It started to pick itself up and the mercenary swept his blade under it’s arm. The mercenary went to remove the beast’s head, but a second zombie grabbed his arm and spun him around. Donovan punched the creature desperately, but it seemed to not even phase the revenant. The pair fell to the ground. The revenant was pretty light, barely more than skin and bones, but it was freakishly strong. Its fellow started to pull his way toward Donovan, trying to bite at the mercenary’s face.
“Oh gods, are you kidding me?” Donovan got his feet under the monster’s stomach and gave it a huge push. The emancipated corpse flew off of him and he rolled out of the way of the biting ghoul. Climbing to his feet, he made certain that he wasn’t about to be swarmed by a third, but the rest were too caught up in fighting Ravvus and George to come after him.
The old fighter caught glimpses of how the others were doing between cutting the monsters in two. The mage they’d picked up was doing well, he seemed to have a knack for killing things that should be dead. Donovan was doing… Something. He was resourceful, he fought well, but he didn’t have any experience outside of brawls. If he was cautious, he might be able to make it.
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Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Jun 3, 2015 19:14:52 GMT -6
Donovan headed off to handle the undead at the rear. Ravvus didn't know if he approved of the young mercenary's courage. If the undead started focusing on him, the mercenary would have to fight them from multiple angles. It turned out that that was just what Donovan had to deal with. He'd managed to tackle one of them to the ground, but its friend had flanked the swordsman and cast him to the snowy earth.
Ravvus couldn't concern himself with Donovan's safety. The mage had his own problems to deal with. The undead had crept forward just enough that they were no longer all within the mage's gaze. They were closing the gap, making it harder for him to keep track of them all. He needed to dispatch them. Bringing his tome to eye level, Ravvus focused and breathed a fireball into existence. He couldn't allow himself to be lost in the throes of battle just yet. Once the situation was a little safer, he could behave more haphazardly.
There were three zombies before Ravvus. One in the center of his vision, one on his right, and one just outside of eye sight on the left. Ravvus elected to take care of the one on the left first. Directing his attention toward the revenant, he sent his fireball spinning towards it. The spell scored a direct hit on the creature's chest, immolating it. Excellent. The fire would spread and take care of everything else. His next target was the fellow in the center. Ravvus repeated his initial tactic. He spoke two fireballs into life, and sent each careening towards the zombie. The fireballs connected with the revenant's legs and blasted them away. The decaying horror fell to the earth and started to crawl towards the mage. That was now three dispatched undead. Donovan had killed another one and George was no doubt racking up a tally at the front of the caravan. Including the two corpses hounding Donovan, there were at least four revenants left. Ravvus felt the adrenaline in his body pump. Alright. It was okay for him to fight heedlessly now. The tide was shifting in the caravan's favor.
How wrong the mage realized he was when he suddenly spied an orange light from the corner of his eye. About five feet from him was the revenant he'd set ablaze. It was still moving. How in the world? Ravvus did not have time to answer that question, as the burning corpse lunged at him. Leaping back, the blond man narrowly avoided an x-shaped slash from the undead creature's two, flaming claws. "By Barigan's beard!" The mage swore, landing on his feet. Still aware of his surroundings, Ravvus took a quick glance back. The undead horror, which had formerly been on his right, was now behind him and within striking distance. For all his criticism of Donovan's courage, it now seemed that the mage was the one being flanked. The revenant flanking Ravvus lunged forward, hoping to score a hit on the mage. Ravvus dropped to one knee, kicked off to the right with the other, and rolled outside of the dead man's attack vector. Ravvus repositioned himself. He was closer to the trees now and the caravan was slowly trundling away from him. The blond man took a deep breath and propped his fire tome open.
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Post by Donovan on Jun 3, 2015 21:22:41 GMT -6
Donovan gripped his sword and held his targe up high, taking a more traditional route to combat. The little revenant the mercenary had kicked through the air earlier charged at his left side with both arm’s raised. Before it could swing, he bashed it back with his shield knocking it to the ground. The one armed undead swung with its remaining claw. Donovan lobbed off it’s other hand off, before kicking it in the chest and knocking it back a few paces. The mercenary centered himself and readied for another assault.
The grizzled fighter had taken down 5 of the undead that had come after the caravan. None had gotten close enough to even scratch at the wagon, but the little boy was still crying and screaming. George couldn’t blame the brat, he supposed. It’s not every day that your family is attacked by a horde of undead monstrosities. A sixth zombie came running out of the trees, a little faster than the others had been, but not fast enough to get past George’s axe. He turned around to see how the others fared. Donovan had seemed to find his stride, but the mage was facing off against a pair that had him wedged on either side. The fighter wanted to help the young man, but he couldn’t leave the caravan unguarded, or the family would certainly die.
The little zombie again charged at Donovan, but the mercenary no longer had to worry about getting clawed by the second monster, so he cleanly lobbed off the monster’s head. The armless revenant crashed into Donovan, but he was not strong enough to do any damage without any claws. Donovan shoved him back and cleaved into the side of the monster’s head.
He looked around as the zombie fell, there weren’t any enemies left besides the ones attacking Ravvus. Although one of them was on fire. So there was that. “Ravvus! I’m on my way!” The mercenary pulled his sword out of the revenant’s head. Or tried to at least, the blade seemed to have gotten wedged into the creature’s skull. “Give me one second!” Donovan tried pulling the sword free with both hands, but merely ended up lifting the corpse’s whole body along with it. “Seriously?” he muttered. He put his boot on the undead’s head and finally managed to yank the blade free.
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Ravvus Wiseau
Mage
We will not stop until I have bested you at least once. My pride simply won't allow any alternative.
Posts: 207
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Ravvus/Luba/Rowan
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Post by Ravvus Wiseau on Jun 3, 2015 23:49:21 GMT -6
The mage tried to find an opening for a counterattack, but nothing was presenting itself. The undead creatures attacked in unison, one striking after the other. The burning revenant would leap forward and Ravvus would dodge. Then, as the mage tried to prepare a counterattack, the other revenant would strike, forcing Ravvus to dodge again. It would go on and on like this, with Ravvus finding no respite. The only advantage he had was the fact that he was not currently set on fire. Sooner or later the immolated zombie would expire, and then the blond man could strike back.
In the distance, Ravvus could see Donovan dispatch his enemies. The green mercenary was quickly gaining a modicum of respect in the mage's eyes. While the mage had worried for the man's health initially, Donovan was quickly proving himself a capable sell-sword. Ravvus looked to the front of the caravan, which was now a good distance away from him. A large lumbering ax man was still at its head so Ravvus assumed George was going strong. The mage redirected his attention to Donovan as he heard the swordsman cry out. Good, a little support was just what the mage needed to-
…
Was Donovan's sword stuck in the undead creature's skull? For crying out loud. That respect the swordsman had just earned diminished slightly. Ravvus kept his wits about him and continued to avoid the zombies. As the fighting reached a climax, the immolated revenant finally collapsed. Its' body was no longer capable of functioning, even with the few functions undead bodies had to fulfill. It was now just a charred, blackened mess. The mage could now focus on the final revenant. This time he intended to enjoy himself. The mage quickly called forth a fireball and, with it, blasted the undead creature's arm off. Its', now severed, arm fell into the snow with a soft squish. Ravvus allowed the creature to approach him for a moment, before doubling around the rotten horror and claiming its' discarded arm for himself. The arm was dirty, and hot from the fireball. The horror lurched towards him, reaching out with its good arm. Ravvus caught it's arm this time, easily intercepting the slow assault. He pulled the arm forward and smashed the creature's face with its severed arm. He struck the creature repeatedly, aware that the splintering of its face and limb were causing only minimal damage. The creature fought back, casting the mage off with a mighty swing. Ravvus felt himself stagger backwards and his grip release, his opportunity to dominate the creature cut short. If he'd been fighting a brigand, Ravvus could have operated more freely. The pain from his repeated blows would incapacitate the average man. But the dead did not feel pain. The mage would have to be satisfied with his small show of force. The mage turned to his tome and summoned one more fireball before finally dispatching his prey.
The blond took a deep breath and made new observations. The undead were... dead. The mercenaries had succeeded in protecting the caravan. Ravvus went to rejoin the cart. ”Donovan!” He called out. ”Get over here, lets regroup.”
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Post by Donovan on Jun 4, 2015 12:15:11 GMT -6
By the time Donovan had managed to yank his blade free from the skull of the zombie, Ravvus seemed to have gotten the situation under control. Donovan’s face grew beet red from embarrassment. Please, gods, never let that happen again! He ran back over to rejoin the caravan. Grev was sitting there frozenly encouraging the horses forward. The boy was still crying, though he’d finally managed to calm himself down a ways. Grev’s wife, though Donovan could never remember her name, Shauna, maybe? Was the only one who seemd to have remained calm through the ordeal. Looked like she’d managed to fire off a couple of bolts, and was loading another, though her hands shook heavily.
“Is everyone alright?” The old fighter asked. He’d just finished a final sweep of the caravan to make sure nothing was hiding underneath it, but the whole wagon seemed clean. “Fine, I’m just… Were those actually people at one point? Like with families and…” Donovan couldn’t quite wrap his head around it, now that he’d actually fought the monsters. He looked back at the three he’d killed. Two were large, not difficult to kill, exactly, but they seemed so much heavier than the little one had been. The small one, though. At first he thought it had starved to death, but now he realized that wasn’t it at all. It had been a child. Donovan shook his head. This wasn’t what he’d signed up for. He couldn’t feel bad about killing that undead child, if anything he’d saved it. But regardless…
“How much longer do we have until we make it to the hub?” he asked. It wasn’t that he felt like they’d struggled against these undead. They were slow, not too difficult to kill, but there had been so few of them. Barely more than ten. If they were to double or triple in force…
“We’re 3 hours away if we keep up the pace,” Grev managed to squeak out.
The old fighter approached Donovan, “You need to stop using that old sword. It’ll just keep getting stuck in things. It’s not sturdy enough material.” Donovan shock his head. “It was my dad’s sword. And I can’t afford another, anyway.”
The group continued to walk on, nursing the bruises they’d acquired in the battle.
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