ellinor
Explorer
17x02
It feels good to be the ambusher, for a change, Kormick mused, as the party crept silently toward the ridge. Familiar. Like coming home. He took the lay of the land: they were on one side of a canyon, which flanked the road with steep rocky cliffs. Between the party and the cliff stood thick forest—and seven soon-to-be-ex Tide archers, training their arrows toward the road below. From the road, they would have been invisible; from here, they stood out, sitting ducks.
At once, the group sprang into action. Twiggy—although she looked like death warmed over—managed to work some sort of force spell that flipped one ambusher over the cliff toward the road below; Arden grabbed another one from behind, slit his throat, and kicked him off the edge; Savina pointed at one of the ambushers and commanded, with divine force in her voice, “over.” The ambusher ran at top speed toward the edge and flung herself off with a strangled scream.
Kormick had to admit it: the kids’ tactics were improving with every fight. They were still naïve—sometimes dangerously so—but they’d come a long way since setting out. Their instincts were more controlled, more automatic, more confident. One needs confidence to be appropriately murderous, Kormick observed, with an unfamiliar flush of pride. Kormick strode forward and hammered one before giving him a shove toward Mena, who pushed him off the cliff. Three to go.
But those three were not the only foes: Arrows flew from invisible archers across the canyon—makes sense, Kormick thought, they’d have ambushers on both sides of the road—and Nyoko returned fire. The three remaining on this side were surprisingly tough, as well. Kormick hit one with his warhammer—hard—and she vanished into thin air. What? But Kormick saw a rustling in the trees a few feet away, and a red-brown stain appear on their leaves. Oh. They must have some kind of magical escape invisibility…but they didn’t plan to be leaving bloodstains. Always plan for bloodstains, Kormick thought.
Arden slashed the neck of another one, and he vanished from sight as well…and Tavi chased the last one into invisibility with his green, flaming sword. Tavi stabbed the same spot again—and again—and blood streamed from the invisible foe onto the forest floor. But blood suddenly bloomed on Tavi’s leg as well. Tavi staggered, dropped to one knee, and then two arrows struck him in quick succession from the far side of the canyon. He keeled over, unconscious.
As the rustling moved past Tavi, Kormick swung low with his warhammer, and connected with a satisfying thud. A rain of blood sprayed Twiggy before the ambusher reappeared in a bloody mass beside her. Twiggy didn’t flinch, although whether it was from confidence or exhaustion Kormick couldn’t guess.
The two remaining ambushers were visible again, and surrounding Tavi. Savina ran into the fray and knelt to heal him just as a dagger from Arden whizzed past, striking one of the assailants. He fell. As Tavi gasped back into consciousness, the last attacker ran, and Savina charged after her, chanting a prayer for the Tideswoman’s worst nightmare: an Alirrian lance of faith. There’s that feeling of pride again, Kormick noted, as the woman dropped dead.
Although the close-quarters fight was over, they all ducked as another arrow flew across the canyon and thunked into a tree. “Here’s the thing about fighting people on the opposite side of a canyon,” Kormick observed to the group with a sly smile. “They’re fighting us one at a time. We can fight all of them at once.” He grabbed his hunting knife, hacked the head from the body of one of the dead Tidesmen, and carried it to the edge of the ravine. “In the name of the Inquisition,” he bellowed, “go home to your wives and children.” He threw the head off the cliff.
The ambushers on the other side of the road ran.
The party rode hard.
###
Dawn, Savina thought. Alirria’s hour.
The sun rose over the mountains, silhouetting a single rider, hunched over his horse, whipping the animal for speed, riding toward Cauldron as if possessed. The party rode, pounding, behind him—gaining, ever so little, gaining.
It was the first time in years that Savina had not sat quietly for dawn prayers. Traveling, she had known, would mean that she would not always be in an Alirrian temple for dawn. She had never dreamt that it might mean whispered praise to the Goddess panted out from the back of a running horse.
They were gaining. The man’s horse was flagging. That’s what he gets for mistreating the poor creature, Savina thought. And as they rounded a corner, there was the horse, resting on the ground, spent.
Kawazu was running down the road toward Cauldron, running for all he was worth.
Kormick raised his hand-crossbow. Nyoko raised her bow. “Wait!” Savina yelled. “Don’t kill him!”
They didn’t loose their arrows; he was too far ahead. And before they came into range, he stopped and turned to face them. Savina was troubled to see that he looked defiant, not defeated. He looked like he expected to stand against them.
Kawazu pulled a large crystal from his cloak. “Kettenek will protect me!” he yelled, and streams of frost spewed from the crystal. The road froze into a slick shine, and the frost grew on itself, until—in the blink of an eye—an enormous creature of ice blocked the road. It was part ice, part crystal, part snow, and had patchy black eyes that seemed to extend forever across the barrier, into death.
It roared.
It feels good to be the ambusher, for a change, Kormick mused, as the party crept silently toward the ridge. Familiar. Like coming home. He took the lay of the land: they were on one side of a canyon, which flanked the road with steep rocky cliffs. Between the party and the cliff stood thick forest—and seven soon-to-be-ex Tide archers, training their arrows toward the road below. From the road, they would have been invisible; from here, they stood out, sitting ducks.
At once, the group sprang into action. Twiggy—although she looked like death warmed over—managed to work some sort of force spell that flipped one ambusher over the cliff toward the road below; Arden grabbed another one from behind, slit his throat, and kicked him off the edge; Savina pointed at one of the ambushers and commanded, with divine force in her voice, “over.” The ambusher ran at top speed toward the edge and flung herself off with a strangled scream.
Kormick had to admit it: the kids’ tactics were improving with every fight. They were still naïve—sometimes dangerously so—but they’d come a long way since setting out. Their instincts were more controlled, more automatic, more confident. One needs confidence to be appropriately murderous, Kormick observed, with an unfamiliar flush of pride. Kormick strode forward and hammered one before giving him a shove toward Mena, who pushed him off the cliff. Three to go.
But those three were not the only foes: Arrows flew from invisible archers across the canyon—makes sense, Kormick thought, they’d have ambushers on both sides of the road—and Nyoko returned fire. The three remaining on this side were surprisingly tough, as well. Kormick hit one with his warhammer—hard—and she vanished into thin air. What? But Kormick saw a rustling in the trees a few feet away, and a red-brown stain appear on their leaves. Oh. They must have some kind of magical escape invisibility…but they didn’t plan to be leaving bloodstains. Always plan for bloodstains, Kormick thought.
Arden slashed the neck of another one, and he vanished from sight as well…and Tavi chased the last one into invisibility with his green, flaming sword. Tavi stabbed the same spot again—and again—and blood streamed from the invisible foe onto the forest floor. But blood suddenly bloomed on Tavi’s leg as well. Tavi staggered, dropped to one knee, and then two arrows struck him in quick succession from the far side of the canyon. He keeled over, unconscious.
As the rustling moved past Tavi, Kormick swung low with his warhammer, and connected with a satisfying thud. A rain of blood sprayed Twiggy before the ambusher reappeared in a bloody mass beside her. Twiggy didn’t flinch, although whether it was from confidence or exhaustion Kormick couldn’t guess.
The two remaining ambushers were visible again, and surrounding Tavi. Savina ran into the fray and knelt to heal him just as a dagger from Arden whizzed past, striking one of the assailants. He fell. As Tavi gasped back into consciousness, the last attacker ran, and Savina charged after her, chanting a prayer for the Tideswoman’s worst nightmare: an Alirrian lance of faith. There’s that feeling of pride again, Kormick noted, as the woman dropped dead.
Although the close-quarters fight was over, they all ducked as another arrow flew across the canyon and thunked into a tree. “Here’s the thing about fighting people on the opposite side of a canyon,” Kormick observed to the group with a sly smile. “They’re fighting us one at a time. We can fight all of them at once.” He grabbed his hunting knife, hacked the head from the body of one of the dead Tidesmen, and carried it to the edge of the ravine. “In the name of the Inquisition,” he bellowed, “go home to your wives and children.” He threw the head off the cliff.
The ambushers on the other side of the road ran.
The party rode hard.
###
Dawn, Savina thought. Alirria’s hour.
The sun rose over the mountains, silhouetting a single rider, hunched over his horse, whipping the animal for speed, riding toward Cauldron as if possessed. The party rode, pounding, behind him—gaining, ever so little, gaining.
It was the first time in years that Savina had not sat quietly for dawn prayers. Traveling, she had known, would mean that she would not always be in an Alirrian temple for dawn. She had never dreamt that it might mean whispered praise to the Goddess panted out from the back of a running horse.
They were gaining. The man’s horse was flagging. That’s what he gets for mistreating the poor creature, Savina thought. And as they rounded a corner, there was the horse, resting on the ground, spent.
Kawazu was running down the road toward Cauldron, running for all he was worth.
Kormick raised his hand-crossbow. Nyoko raised her bow. “Wait!” Savina yelled. “Don’t kill him!”
They didn’t loose their arrows; he was too far ahead. And before they came into range, he stopped and turned to face them. Savina was troubled to see that he looked defiant, not defeated. He looked like he expected to stand against them.
Kawazu pulled a large crystal from his cloak. “Kettenek will protect me!” he yelled, and streams of frost spewed from the crystal. The road froze into a slick shine, and the frost grew on itself, until—in the blink of an eye—an enormous creature of ice blocked the road. It was part ice, part crystal, part snow, and had patchy black eyes that seemed to extend forever across the barrier, into death.
It roared.
