Whizbang Dustyboots said:
With a roar, Harval charges after the final felldrake, eyes wild with bloodlust.
Harval, is his frenzied state, is easily able to bear down on the critically wounded drake, and hews it to bits with his greataxe. The near-unrecognizable carcass falls to the cold, wet earth.
Land Outcast said:
Idivien wipes away the blood on his face, courtesy of Harval's strikes...
A few seconds later his raven returns, and starts pecking at the fallen draconic creatures.
"Good coordination" He states, and kneels down to examine one of the beast's jaws.
Hang me if he's got less of a fiend within him than I do
Idivien looks at the dead drake's jaws, and sees a reptillian mouth full of sharp teeth.
(OOC: I'm not really sure what Idivien was looking for here, but he doesn't see anything unusual. Nothing about the drake indicates a fiendish heritage.)
With the battle ended, everyone takes a moment to catch his or her breath, and heaving lungs create wisps of white in the cold air. The oppressively thick fog clings to the victors, making the moment seem rather surreal. There seems to be nothing to collect or gather from the drakes, so the group presses on, leaving the corpses behind in the fog.
After a few more hours of travel, evening settles in, and the group decides to stop for the day. In this fog, it is very difficult to tell how far they have come, or even if they are headed in the right direction. But, the going has been slow, as the group has had to avoid roots, thickets, and small bodies of water...difficult to see in the fog. It has grown very cold now, and nearly dark, but the party is able to find a relatively dry area suitable for making camp.
(OOC: Please discuss a routine for setting up camp, and let me know how you want to handle the procedure. Will you try to light a fire? Will you set up a rotation for keeping watch? Any special precautions or activities? That kind of info...)
