Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 31, 2016 10:56:50 GMT -6
"So far, so good." The trip had been relatively smooth by this point. Prince hadn't shown any signs of spotting threats or enemies to the caravan throughout the entire flight. Venford was still a touch on edge, but surely the path they had taken was far away from that same dreadful area he had encountered those hounds before. That said those hounds were the least of his worries. It was not them that he feared most.
Taking his mind off those horrifying memories, Venford instead glanced down at the caravan below him. Skies were clear under the midday sun, so it was quite easy to keep track of the thing. He could see Ace on his horse, Troy, trotting along with the caravan as well. He was a bit miffed he could exactly go down there with them and chat, but this was a job after all. A potentially life threatening one as well.
By Venford's lofty estimates the group was nearing a half-way point of sorts. They were certainly in Lycian borders by this point, just beginning to pass Ostia proper and getting closer to the safer fiefdoms. The group just had to keep coasting along and, hopefully, everything would be fine.
Of course, that wasn't exactly meant to be, now was it?
There would be no doubt that Prince saw it first. Strange movements in the trees. Too fast to be simple raiders, too erratic and bold to be the work of every day wolves. The griffon turned his head to the east, his eyes narrowing, and Venford most certainly noticed. "No...please, no." Gripping Prince's reins, Venford steered towards the east, descending a bit that the griffon might get a better view.
As he flew into the gentle breeze, however, he found that he wouldn't have to. The putrid scent that the wind carried along with it was all too familiar, and all he needed to know that the undead pack had found him. A hand went to the sword on his back and Venford let out as loud a warning has he can. "PICK UP THE PACE. TROUBLE TO THE EAST!" There was no use for subtlety: they'd been found.
Sure enough they burst through the trees: at least ten of them. They were wolves, once, with flayed flesh and matted, clumped fur. A horribly rancid drool leaked from their mouths as they tore towards the caravan, and Venford had Prince dive down towards them.
Now, they had to fight.
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Quineve
Cleric
Posts: 37
Profession: Cleric Adventurer
Affiliation: House Tydeus Girviat
Profile: Profile
OoC Alias: Eizer
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Post by Quineve on Jun 1, 2016 0:19:44 GMT -6
Today started well and it was pretty good so far. Quineve was happy while chatting with the quartet of mercenaries while her merchant friend Duncan was still whistling with no worries. She was comfortably on one of the boxes with her staff in hand. She was impressed with Aithem's demonstration of his mage power earlier even if she did knew mages in the past. Still, it was still impressive every time.
Quineve would look up above once in a while to check on Venford and Prince who looked to be doing great so far. Everything was going to plan and she deeply prayed that it would stay that way. Who knows? Maybe Lady Luck was kind and on their side this time.
Unfortunately, she was not. As soon as Duncan heard Venford screaming, the fat merchant couldn't help to look up in the sky. The poor guy tried to do his best to quickly tell his horse to speed up but it was already too late. The caravan rocked on one side as one of the horses stopped suddenly upon seeing the undead wolves.
Duncan screamed too, maybe more in surprise than fear. He then tried to say something to the mercenaries with him but he was too busy trying to keep his horse from panicking. Quineve almost fell from the box she was sitting on when the caravan begin rocking on one side. She did managed not to do so and quickly tried to stand up. She was in the middle looking left and right but all she could see were the wolves.
She panicked. There were little of what she could do in such situation. She could only rely on her four bodyguards. Paralyzed with fear, Quineve just kept shifting her attention to around her without saying a word.
It was not going to be pretty.
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Ace Wilzor
Cavalier
KeithWolff is the owner of this mugshot
Posts: 52
Profession: Mercenary
Affiliation: Lycia
Guild: N/A
Affinity: Thunder
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Post by Ace Wilzor on Jun 1, 2016 15:12:22 GMT -6
The trip was quite fun for Ace due to all of the company he had around him. He had been traveling alone for quite awhile, so it felt soothing to be i the presence of others. Ace wore a smile on his face for the duration of the trip. At least, until the fun had to stop. Something was going on. Venford seemed to be shouting above, but what he said Ace could not hear. Soon Troy started to get a bit rowdy and unsettled. Something was definitely off.
Rabid sounds filled the air, while cluttering feet or possibly paws shook the ground. It only took a moment for trouble to be unleashed upon the gentle group. It seemed like wolves. Wolves won't be too ba-ugh! What is that smell? Why do they look so strange!? Ace had never seen creatures like these. Undead wolves? That is seriously a thing. Of course, who wouldn't have guessed there are undead wolves alive and being right where I am, so I can be right up and cuddly with them. However, this was not the time for sarcasm and disbelief. These abominations were real and Ace's new allies were in danger. The wolves had struck fear in the caravan horses causing the caravan to stop completely. Troy had also stopped, but seemed ready to flee if needed. Ace unsheathed his new Brave Sword. It's shiny blade glinted with the sun's rays. It was so light, so much lighter than Ace's previous sword. "Time to see what this blade can do!"
It seemed two of the abominations were emerging from the trees and straight at Ace. The cavalier prepared his sword by pointing it between the two beasts. One made a large leap straight at Ace. The cavalier thrusted his sword horizontally above his shoulder and quickly came back with a horizontal slash at the wolf. Contact was made as the sword cut the wolf's neck and right side of the muzzle. It fell next to Troy still sprawling on its back. Ace took advantage of his Brave Sword's lightness and leaned down to deliver an upward slice at the creature's underbelly. It squirmed and didn't move again. Ace felt a sense of pride in his skill, but that moment he let his guard down as the second wolf lunged at him. Ace barely lifted his right, sword arm to prevent the creature from biting him. Its claws on the other hand managed to rake his right side. Ace yelped and gave a large heave to send the creature off of him. The cavalier felt blood oozing down his side and looked up to see that the creature was getting back up with two more of its friends coming to join the party. They all looked up at Ace and Troy, baring their teeth in preparation for the next attack...
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Sergeo
Mage
"Loyalty above all else."
Posts: 45
Profession: Mage for hire
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Sergeo
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Post by Sergeo on Jun 2, 2016 0:13:05 GMT -6
The job up to this point had been going smoothly. With Venford and Ace watching the road and Sergeo along with the rest of the magic folk riding in the merchant's cart, the mage deiced that he would use this time to get a little extra shut-eye while Quineve and Aithem bond over stories of their lives. If there were any trouble, surely one of the four would be sure to alarm the rest.
Disappointingly, the mage's nap was interrupted by the loud shouting of Venford warning that something wicked was coming. "PICK UP THE PACE. TROUBLE TO THE EAST!" he had yelled and everyone went on high alert in a second "Well don't leave us in suspence. What is attacking-" Sergeo was cut off when the cart made a sudden, rough stop that knocked everyone inside off of there balance and onto the wagon's floor. Everyone rushed back to there feet to see a sight that to call unsettling wouldn't be doing the actual sight justice. The group had been surrounded by a pack of ten of the most disgusting wolves...no undead wolves. Each one looked like it had just risen from dead, with bodies that were covered is gashes and disgusting, puss filled wounds that would make lesser men faint in disbelief. Even the air the party breathed was tainted by the wolves foul stench. *Cough* *Cough* For once I wish it was bandits."
Sergeo quickly jumped out from the cart and ready his tomb for combat. As if guided by the invisible hand, One of the undead monstrosity made it a point to single him out as he stepped onto the earth beneath him. The wolf charged out from the pack with bared teeth and vicious growls and grunts. His target had been chosen for him and Sergeo knew just the spell to put down the savage beast. With his eyes pointed at his wolf and his tomb held in his off hand, he made a motion with his right arm. In a singular, clockwise motion, the bandit mage whipped open his tomb and then pointed an open palm at his target. The tell tale glow of magic sigils appeared in front of the open palm and any experienced mage could tell you what was coming by the sigil's warm orange glow. "HRAH!" A blazing ball of fire shot out from the sigil at a blistering speed heading straight at the somewhat oblivious undead creature. The ball had made contact and the undead wolf was soon engulfed in the bright flames as the what life the abomination had left in its body as it tripped and tumbled into the poisoned earth. What could only be described as a yelp signaled the creature was no more.
Having dealt with his opponent Sergeo looked back at his companions in the wagon "Don't just stand there! Everybody out!"
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Aithem
Mage
Posts: 11
Profession: Scholar/Swashbuckler
Affinity: Fire
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Post by Aithem on Jun 2, 2016 10:41:50 GMT -6
For the short time they had spent on the road, Aithem and Quineve had spoken a little more. He had already concluded earlier that she was rather naive, but also that she seemed to possess a natural curiosity that could be likened too his own, albeit less extreme. Regardless, he was enjoying the coversation with the young woman, and that it was occasionally graced with input from the Pharaean Cavalier. The fact that it was not to last would later fill him with disappointment.
Aithem heard Venford's call and immediately his attitude shifted from lofty and flighty. Before he knew it, he was on his feet and looking to the east as the cart lurched to one side and came to an abrupt halt. Sure enough, he caught an eyeful the aforementioned trouble as he looked too the east and a pair of wolves burst out of the trees, careening toward the front of the caravan where Ace and Duncan were situated. He glanced over to where Sergeo had been asleep, and put out a hand to rouse him. However, much to his surprise, again Sergeo had already leapt out of the caravan without him noticing and was facing down a trio of wolves. Aithem thought to help him, before watching him expertly elliminate one of the wolves that had made the mistake of charging him, and been resultingly incinerated. Aithem nodded, impressed with the scrappy mage's modus operandi. He looked behind him, and noticed that as fast as Sergeo seemed to be advancing, Quineve appeared to be backing away.
Before he could ask her why, it suddenly occurred too him that his current position was ill equipped too properly achieve a lay of the land. Hoping that Sergeo was capable enough to protect the priestess on his own, Aithem turned and quickly scaled the piles of cargo, until he achieved the highest vantage point, expanding his line of sight. Once there he narrowed his eyes, and surveyed the area. To the west lay a bare plain, occupied by little more than a few trees and sparse vegetation. Too his east he knew Sergeo was facing off against the remaining two wolves, and before him Ace too was facing down two more wolves, having having already dispatched one. Below him, Aithem registered that Duncan was motionless in what he assumed was a state of terror, the reigns still held in his hands. At least the man had his priorities strait.
He heard Ace yelp and looked up in time to watch him throw another of the beasts to the ground. One of the wolves had leapt toward him and rend him a blow to his right side. Aithem concluded to himself that to stall any longer was to risk further injury ofnhis companions. Now was the time to act. He threw his right hand out to his side as he selected a target. He laid eyes on the wolf to Ace's left that remained standing that had begun too move, rounding at a trott to it's right, probably with the intention of flanking the cavalier. Now wreathed in flame, Aithem threw his arm upward, and launched the stream of fire he had conjured high into the air. He then brought his arm down, directing the flame toward the back off the beast.
The fire arched through the air, burning and spitting embers, until it collided with the ground to one side of the wolf. When it had, it erupted in a blast that sent both earth and fire into the face and mane of the wolf, which earned him a pained yelp from the creature. He had missed, but the result had reaped unexpected benefits. As the damaged wolf stopped in its tracks to re-evaluate it's approach, Aithem threw his arm out at his side again, ready to repeat the attack, eyes flicking from side to side observantly.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 16, 2016 14:35:19 GMT -6
As Venford flew closer to the enemies he saw, gratefully, that his allies had begun to act. Ace rode out to meet the wolves and, for the most part, they seemed to take the bait, allowing him to take a few out in the first few flourishes of his blade. Good, but it wouldn't be enough. Much like the wolves he'd faced before, Venford already noticed that mortal injuries didn't have the same effect on them as they should. They didn't perish right away, sometimes not at all. But injuries COULD slow them down.
At Venford's guidance Prince dove down towards three wolves that broke past Ace and sprinted madly towards their client and his carriage. Venford drew his sword and swung at them, Prince low enough for his talons to graze over the grass, not necessarily aiming for anything other than their legs. The blade managed to slice clean through one fetid wolf's hind leg, causing it to trip and start rolling across the ground. The other two wolves were forced to jump away, lest they get battered by Prince's talons or wings.
Ven had Prince pull back up into the air, watching the ground to look towards his next dive bomb. He couldn't really recall when the last time he felt so...cold had been. Serious and focused. He absolutely did not want anything near a repeat of the last time he encountered these creatures. He saw Sergeo had exited the caravan, and Aithem as well. They'd left the caravan in order to help. That was good, but...
"No, get back in there and keep it moving!" Venford shouted down to the mages. "Tell the rider to keep the bloody thing moving. We aren't going to win this fight as a standstill! We have to flee and hold them off!" This was not a sweep mission. Not a combat mission. It was an escort. Priority was in keeping the client and his belongings safe. If his belongings were destroyed then you kept the client himself safe. If you had nowhere to flee, then and only then did you stand and fight to the last.
So Venford flew closer, briefly, to make sure they could hear his words. "Ace and I can ride into them, disrupt them and slow them. You all just need to pick 'em off, make it harder for them to reach you. If they do reach the caravan, shout and we'll pull back in to help, yeah?"
Ven did not wait for answer. Kicking his heels against Prince's sides, he turned the griffon around and sped over to where Ace was. He didn't have time to relay the plan to the cavalier, he just hoped the man would figure it out on his own. Instead Ven had Prince dive again, brandishing his sword at yet another trio of wolves that made it past the cavalier.
(OOC: #Wolves=20
Post rounds required to get caravan to safety=8 posts of the caravan successfully moving)
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Quineve
Cleric
Posts: 37
Profession: Cleric Adventurer
Affiliation: House Tydeus Girviat
Profile: Profile
OoC Alias: Eizer
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Post by Quineve on Jun 17, 2016 0:51:12 GMT -6
Quineve was still paralyzed when everyone else was starting fend off the undead wolves. She was no warrior, battle wasn't in her blood. She felt that the air around her become colder as fear took control of her body. She didn't know what to do but to stand still and pray for their safety. It wasn't the first conflict she met in her life but it was the first one with the unlivings. How to do kill something that is already dead? They had iron and magic on their side and she deep hoped that it would be enough to at least, just make a path to safety.
Duncan tried his darnest to pull the reins left, right and back to control his horses. One of them was making the whole caravan rock again and again on both side making Quineve fall on her behind on one of the boxes. It was clear that the merchant was more in control of himself that he was of his horses. Getting away from this spot was primordial, he knew that. He even stood up and began shouting to his horses in vain. It was just a matter of time before either finally and too late. He was too occupied to even take a look around him to see if everyone was still on the caravan or not.
The cleric stood up again amidst the chaos holding her staff close to her. She saw Venford and his griffon dive into the action while shouting orders that were lost in the sounds of the wolves and shouting of Duncan. There were little that she could really do to help them, she had no spells that could affect these wolves. For now, it did seem that they were still somewhat in control of the situation. It was chaotic but no mindless. They all seemed like they knew what they were doing and again, she prayed for that to stay that way.
As Duncan began shouting louder and louder, Quineve turned her attention to the merchant and shouted back at him. "Stay calm, friend," she said to him with all the control she could muster to her voice. "We will make it out alive." She deeply wishes for that and hoped that positive thinking could work for at least this one time. To this, Duncan took one tiny second to look at the lady and nodded before wiping the sweat off his brows. They needed a path to escape, fighting them here wasn't a good plan at all.
And all she could do was to pray.
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Sergeo
Mage
"Loyalty above all else."
Posts: 45
Profession: Mage for hire
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Sergeo
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Post by Sergeo on Jul 5, 2016 23:13:59 GMT -6
The skirmish between the undead beasts and the caravan was now in full swing with the caravan warriors taking out the wolves with one swing of the sword or one burst of magic at a time. It had been a long time since Sergeo had been in the heat of battle, but the feeling that one got from sending an foe into an early grave (or in this case back to the grave from wince they came) was not something that the mage ever forgot. The rush, the intensity, the fraction of a second needed to land a killing blow, it was perfection for Sergeo. What was less than perfect was Aithem going off to engage the enemies with Venford and Ace as that was exactly what he wanted to do. Needless to say, he was more than a little miffed at being circumstantially forced to stay and protect Quineve and the merchant, but even he knew how foolish it was to leave the defenseless healer and his payday alone in this chaos. All he could was just sigh to himself as he jogged toward the front of the cart.
Quineve had seemed to have gotten to the pudgy merchant to stop freaking out before Sergeo had gotten there. A step forward sure, but a moving cart it was not. "You heard bird boy! Get this cart moving before we are all dog food!"
As if on cue, another wolf made its presence know with a large howl and with the beating sounds of a beast's claws digging into the dirt. Sergeo had enough time to spin around towards the wolf and put and arm out to block his attacker before the leaping monstrosity leaped onto Sergeo, knocking down him down and chomping down on his right forearm with it bite! "AARGH!" The mage yelled as pressure started to press down on his sleeve between the wolf shaking violently to saw his undead teeth through Sergeo's jacket. "Stupid beast get off of me!" The pinned mage did what he could to fight back in his position. His first try involved using his free arm to punch the beast's jaw with several flush punches to the side of the head, but the wolf did not release his prey. His second attack, however, was much more successful as Sergeo kicked the beast off of him with both of feet pushing off of its chest. The undead wolf hit the ground with a solid thud, but by no means was that enough to stop a creature of the dead. Propping himself against the wagon's front wheel, he grabbed his tomb and prepped a new spell just for the ballsy mutt. This time, a green sigil shot forth a ferocious gust of wind that sent the still stunned wolf skipping and spinning off the ground for several feet until an abrupt courtesy of one of the forests many trees. A loud snap was heard as the beast spine hit and wrapped around its trunk surely killing or at least incapacitating it. "Hah...hah. Ouch that smart."
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Aithem
Mage
Posts: 11
Profession: Scholar/Swashbuckler
Affinity: Fire
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Post by Aithem on Jul 20, 2016 12:15:24 GMT -6
As he appraised the battlefield, Aithem's ear caught wind of Venford's strategy.
"No, get back in there and keep it moving! Tell the rider to keep the bloody thing moving. We aren't going to win this fight as a standstill! We have to flee and hold them off! "
Even through Duncans loud screeches, Venford's message came in loud and clear. Unsurprisingly, the red-headed youth was correct. Aithem's previous scan of the land had reviled more of the canine menaces moving toward the fray from the edge of the forest. Soon they would be upon them, an then they would really be in a bind. From his vantage point, his attention quickly shifted to Duncan, intent on spurring him onward as Venford had suggested. Uncharacteristic of a plainsman, horses had proved in the past to be deeply deceptive and hateful creatures, especially in regards to Aithem. Nevertheless, he regarded their continued obedience as a priority and meant to engage them as best he could. But as his gaze met with the merchant that had only moments before been bellowing his lungs out at his beasts of burden, Quineve appeared and seemed to be handling the situation. While that was all well and good, and the effort had at least quieted the large man, that left Sergeo on his own alongside of the stationary carriage.
Aithem's eye quickly flicked backward over his shoulder, but did not see Sergeo. A thrill of dread shot threw him, fearing that in the chaos one of the wolves had wrapped its horrid jowls around the young mage, and inadvertently dragged him off. However, Aithem's anxiety was soon quelled as evidence of the mage's presence became apparent once again. From where are pile of Duncan's crates obscured his vision, one of the wolves shot through the air at high velocity and into the cover of the forest, where it ricocheted off a tree and fell motionless to the ground. Again, Aithem took a fraction of a second to appreciate the scrappy mage's impressive strength, and reeled again to attend to the battle unfolding before him. As he did so, another cry met his ear.
"Ace and I can ride into them, disrupt them and slow them. You all just need to pick 'em off, make it harder for them to reach you. If they do reach the caravan, shout and we'll pull back in to help, yeah?" Venford shouted as he swooped down, and then swooped back up again.
All at once, Aithem's own strategy disolved and a new plan of action formulated in his mind. "You've got it!" Aithem shouted back, and promptly went to work.
If Ace and Venford really meant to charge the savage creatures, in the way the way his people herded cattle or sheep, Aithem could herd them into the road for a greater effect. Well, not quite in the same way. A Sacaeaman would use crooks, or dogs to herd livestock. Neither were these beasts livestock, than did Aithem have a crook with which to influence them. He did however, have a rather more useful tool at his disposal, and he swept a palm engulfed in flame through the air.
The wolf that Aithem had missed with his first strike had been joined by another. With reinforcement, it had redoubled it's attempt to flank the Pharaean Cavilier. The last time Aithem had made the mistake of aiming at a moving target. This time, he launched his flame to the left of the caravan. The hissing ball of embers flew for about a meter, before Aithem then balled his fist, and wrenched his entire body to the right in a pulling motion as if yanking on the flame from the end of a rope, causing it to arc in the air. This time, it met its destination at the wolves feet. The ball erupted as did the last one, in a small explosion that sent earth and fire into both the beasts manes, and threw them sprawling into the road before them, flailing and yelping as their mangy fur coats continued to smolder and burn. As we watched this, Aithem stooped down, and braced himself against the crate upon which he was poised, awaiting for Aithem and Ace's promised charge to begin.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Aug 9, 2016 14:53:36 GMT -6
Venford didn't really have the luxury of time to check and see if the mages had followed his orders or not, all he could really do is swoop low with Prince and do what he could. By his count there were...about seventeen or eighteen left? Hah...those were seriously less than favorable odds. With how damned near-impossible to kill these beasts were the odds of them taking them all out were very, very slim. Rather they simply needed to make sure the caravan got away before making a hasty retreat.
Venford's entire plan rested on that. If Prince had the stamina to distract these beasts and then beat for a hasty retreat, the mages could keep the wolves off of Duncan, Quineve, and the caravan, then this mission didn't need to end in tragedy.
"Here we go boy!" Venford shouted, steering Prince down towards the bulk of the wolf pack. Not all of them noticed his descent, but a few did, jumping up and snapping their fetid fangs at Prince. The griffon let out a shriek, not of pain or fear, but like a hawk descending on it's prey. His talons were ready and snatched two of the wolves by the backs of their necks. Before the winged beast pulled up Venford leaned over and swung at some of the wolves that didn't scatter swiftly enough, cutting at a few but failing to do any meaningful damage.
As Prince rose up, the two wolves struggling in the grips of his talons, though, Venford let out a battle-cry. Even if his sword wasn't sturdy or strong enough to really deal with these monsters, he could trust Prince to make up for it. Once Prince was high enough he dropped the wolves, their bodies making sickening cracks when they hit the ground, rotted flesh and bile leaking and splattering out from them. They struggled and squirmed, barely surviving the drop, but even undead monsters still needed their bones. They weren't threats any more.
"Great work Prince, but we aren't gonna get any rest for a while yet." Ven was already steering Prince back down towards the rest of the pack, making a swift pass in front of them, cutting the wolves off and delaying them from reaching the caravan. So far, so good...right?
(OOC: # Wolves=16
Post rounds required to get caravan to safety=5 posts of the caravan successfully moving. 8 was a bit much lol)
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Quineve
Cleric
Posts: 37
Profession: Cleric Adventurer
Affiliation: House Tydeus Girviat
Profile: Profile
OoC Alias: Eizer
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Post by Quineve on Aug 10, 2016 19:47:52 GMT -6
After one long second of fighting against his horses, Duncan finally managed to steer them into the right direction. Both horses neighed in unison and then, the cart began moving at a rather fast pace. By now, the merchant was just hoping that the rest of the mercenaries were still in the caravan. He just couldn't wait for everything to jump in. Quineve was still inside and fell on her behind due to sudden start. An "Ow!" came out of her mouth as she closed her eyes for a second due to the shock.
"Quick! We are moving!" She then screamed in half panic. Duncan also shouted something similar as well but it was drown out by the sounds of the wolves. Quineve wasn't sure what to look at, everyone was trying to fend of the undeads the best they could, she felt very useless. But then again, she was a healer. Her powers were useless against those kind of beasts.
By now, the caravan was moving faster and faster toward whichever direction was open to it. Quineve then saw Sergeo get bit by one of those wolves. "Come here, friend!" She shouted at him. "Let me mend your wounds."
The battle was still raging on but atleast the caravan was moving now. Let's hope that they would be faster than the undeads.
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Sergeo
Mage
"Loyalty above all else."
Posts: 45
Profession: Mage for hire
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Sergeo
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Post by Sergeo on Aug 15, 2016 20:03:31 GMT -6
After what felt like an eternity, the merchant managed to move his wagon into position to make a escape. A step forward for sure, but they were still in danger and going nowhere quickly. The mage was quick to pick himself off the ground and walked towards the front of the cart to get a better view of the situation. Sure enough, there was still no end to the wolves in sight with Venford and Aithem fighting in middle of all of them. How the fools were still alive among the sea of undead wolves was a credit to the their skill as warriors, or a sign that these wolves were no more threatening then domesticated pets. He wasn't sure which.
Needless to say, there ride was ready and Sergeo was keen on getting a move on. "You heard the lady. Everyone back to the cart! I'll cover the you." He said prepping his trinity tomb to shoot a barrage of fireballs. It was about this time Quineve noticed the bite wound that Sergeo had gotten in his last scrap. While it hurt like hell, Sergeo was not content with not covering the others return to the wagon as surely the wolves would run after them in response like normal wolves would with any fleeing pray "Unless you can work while I concentrate on turning these annoying pups into ash princess, you can wait till we're out of trouble." he barked at her as fireballs shot out of Sergeo's red sigil and into the crowd of beasts.
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Aithem
Mage
Posts: 11
Profession: Scholar/Swashbuckler
Affinity: Fire
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Post by Aithem on Aug 18, 2016 16:09:32 GMT -6
Perched atop the crate he had chosen to mount and survey the battlefield, Aithem now clutched at its wooden edges, waiting for the caravan to begin moving. The time he had taken to brace himself had paid off as the vehicle lurched and he was nearly thrown off. His knees slipped of the back and quickly he scrambled to gain purchase on the crate once more. He clambered back into a crouching position on top of the crate, just in time to watch the wolves he had blown into the road disappear under the caravan, followed shortly after a series of nauseating crunches.
He grinned in satisfaction, but he knew his job was far from done. Clinging to the sides of the wooden box he once more took a moment to absorb his surroundings. Sergeo had leapt back into the caravan, and it appeared that Venfords plan had been a partial success, and any of the wolves with a grain of sense were making way for the giant cart, which was now picking up speed. However, Aithem had detected a new problem on the horizon. Many of the wolves were now lining the side of the road, and some appeared to be preparing to jump. It was inevitable, but Aithem feared that unless the cart began moving any faster, they would soon be surrounded, and would have to defend against attacks from all sides.
Aithem raised had and prepared to cast another spell, and was promptly thrown to the side by the jostling of moving the caravan and was forced to slam his hand back down on the wooded surface, just to remain upright. As a Sacaeman he was accustomed to riding on uneven ground, and could keep his balance fairly well. However, traveling on the worn and dilapidated roads of Ostia's ruins was a new sensation for him, and at once he was filled with fascination and excitement once more.
Unfortunately, his sudden burst of intrigue was short lived and quickly replaced by fear. His failure to conjure a spell prompted one of their many beastly adversaries too leap onto the side of the caravan. Aithem tried to raise another hand in an effort to stop the rabid animal. Yet again he was unable too, as the unsteady progress of the caravan forced him to hold on with both hands, or fall off. He looked down at the creature, as it clawed frantically at the crates, advancing up toward him. Aithem registered through the fright of what might be his imminent death approaching, the monstrosities eyes were curiously vacant, yet it's muzzle was pulled back and snarling furiously as flecks of saliva flew from its gnashing maw.
"Auhm...!" Aithem shouted over the commotion, his voice wavering as he struggled to string together the right words. "I require some assistance!" he finally blurted out.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Aug 19, 2016 1:24:43 GMT -6
Venford gazed back towards his client and objective. The caravan still moved. Good, so long as they could keep the thing moving they might be able to escape this area with their lives. That said the wolf pack still vastly out-numbered them and, honestly, if not for his advantage of flight, Venford would likely be struggling a great deal more than he was. He had Prince to thank for his continued survival, more-so than his own skills for sure.
But this was not the time to be humble or grateful. Venford clutched the reins and steered Prince towards another dive. He heard Aithem cry out for assistance, meaning at least some of the wolves had closed in on the caravan. So this dive was not into the middle of the pack like before, but instead was towards the wolves that had blocked off the caravan's path. They ran along the broken stone trail, preparing to leap no doubt.
And leap they did, but rather than join their pack mates that had already attempted to board the carvan, they instead collided with Venford, his blade, and Prince's flank, resulting in a...violent affair.
One wolf managed to run itself through on Venford's blade, another tacking itself into his torso with enough force to knock him not only off of Prince's back, but onto the grass off the side of the road. Venford grunted and cried out as he bounced and rolled along the earthy grass. His blade was still in hand, but his wrist stung as a result. The force of his rolling must have managed to tear the head off the wolf that had impaled itself mouth first on his sword. He was lucky the blade hadn't snapped in two...but his luck ended there.
Prince let out a startled shriek as one of the wolves managed to bite into his flank, beating his wings and slashing away at the wolf his talons. He clawed away at the fetid creature, tearing it's rotted flesh from it's bone with greater force than Venford and his sword ever could. Prince was startled but he still had a great deal of fire and fight in him. The griffon would be fine.
It was Venford who found himself in a much dire position. The other wolf that had tacked him had managed to get to it's feet faster than Venford and lunged at the downed mercenary. Venford scrambled backwards, whipping his sword in an upwards arc towards the wolf before it pinned him down, embedding the blade directly in the beast's side.
"Damn it!" Venford cursed as he pushed his free hand against the creature's throat. It's flesh felt like old moss, damp and more malleable than any flesh ought to be. And the smell, gods the smell the creature gave off. He squinted as it's drool poured onto it's face, the wolf barking away as it snapped it's jaws dangerously close to Venford's face.
This was not looking so good.
(OOC: # Wolves=14
Post rounds required to get caravan to safety=4 posts of the caravan successfully moving)
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Quineve
Cleric
Posts: 37
Profession: Cleric Adventurer
Affiliation: House Tydeus Girviat
Profile: Profile
OoC Alias: Eizer
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Post by Quineve on Aug 30, 2016 15:04:06 GMT -6
Duncan was now very focused on steering his horses in the right direction. The road was bumpy, very bumpy but that caravan was made solid, at least he hoped that it was that way. As for his cargo? He couldn't care less that this point. As for the ones that were protecting him, he sure prayed that they were still in the caravan. There were no time to look behind if anyone would have felt down. In fact, he never did look behind him admist all the screaming and whatever sounds those undead wolves could do.
On the other hand, Quineve was now trying to make her way toward Sergeo, the mage. As she got closer to look at the bite mark, the cleric used her staff to touch the wound and the tip of the staff began to shine softly for a moment. With magic on her side, the wound was now closed. She then tried to stand up to look at the others but was once again back on her behind due to the bumpy ride. She really wanted to go help Aithem, the other mage but just couldn't make her way toward him. Someone else would have to help him for now.
She couldn't see Venford in the sky anymore as she looked up. Her eyes darted all around her for a moment trying to find the man and his griffon. From her position, she couldn't see neither of them. She felt her heart skip a beat and worry and fear overcame her. Did he fell down? Was he going to be okay? "Venford!" Quineve shouted at the sky hoping to hear something, anything from her friend.
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