Crossed Paths - Part I

[Inez Hull]

"Quickly! The heads of both the women as well. They are marshalling to attack, we must do this now afore they are upon us and blinded with bloodlust."

 

[doghead]

Marcus pulls the trigger, burying the bolt into her chest. For a moment, no more than a heart beat, he stands and looks at what he has done. Then, with a shudder, he squats beside her, places his crossbow to one side and checks that the woman is alive.

*assuming she isn't*

"Brioc, my sword has not the weight or heft for this task." He grabs a handful of hair and lifts the woman's head. Then looks up at Brioc.

"She is dead. I have made sure of that."

 

[Thomas Hobbes]

"Leave the girl!" says Octar angrily. "The crone and the snake are all the dwarves say we need, and we'll shed no more blood than we have to." He points to the snake's head. "Dhormium, if you could get that, I'll see if I can't hold them off until... we're ready."

 

[doghead]

OOC: Thomas, Marcus dealing with the old crone. The girl is across the room. As far as I am aware no-one is dealing with her. Sorry if I wasn't clear earlier.

 

[Guilt Puppy]

Nathaniel gathers his sword and stands at the entryway, ready to fight, and apparently not ready to deal with any moral dilemmas.

"Should we shout, as they pass?" he asks quietly, to no one in particular. "They might not understand... But it will look like we are leaving in victory. That's how we want them to understand it, right? That they have nothing left to fight for?"

He sighs, letting the strange feeling pass from him: It isn't guilt so much as disappointment. He'd expected to feel much more heroic just now... Instead, it feels only like a job has been done.

Turning, he calls back, his voice stronger, more confident: "Are we ready? Has all been done? Because I doubt we'll be alone for long."

He punctuates the last with a slight flourish of sword: There was always the thrill of battle, after all...

 

[Inez Hull]

"No! We must take both their heads you fool human", Ehldannis screeches at Octar in frustration and fear. "The Dwarves may have gotten out by killing just the leader, but here we are now because they failed to make sure no apprentice lived on. We must end this threat for good."

 

[Manzanita]

The sound of bare feet slapping the stones outside are now audible to all. The sounds stop outside the curtain, and a female voice calls out deferentially in the savage, gutteral language of the Wendol.

 

[Jarval]

Stepping forwards, Brioc takes a two handed grip on his scimitar. He lifts the blade, and brings it down in a quick arc, severing the crone's neck.

"Kill the younger, and take her head as well. We need to be sure this is finished."

 

[Thomas Hobbes]

Octar opens his mouth one more time to protest, then lets it shut. Brioc is the one he's promised to follow, and he lacks the energy to argue. He keeps an eye on the beads, ready to hold off the Wendol long enough for the bloody deed to be done.

 

[Manzanita]

The woman on the other side of the curtain shouts several sharp words, then the beads are pushed aside by both her hands, revealing a tall, slender, commanding Neandrathall dressed in heavily splattered leather armor (splattered with some sort of dye, perhaps blood). She stares at the carnage inside, mouth agape.

Initiative: rolled but 'secret' for now. Go ahead & act.