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<blockquote data-quote="Greenfield" data-source="post: 5934180" data-attributes="member: 6669384"><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">*** </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"So I'm not to compete?", asked Sylus, somewhat disappointed. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"No, the people here have heard of your prowess, your Olympic victory.", the King beamed. "We want them to come, believing they have a chance. So instead I'll ask you to set the range and officiate. You're to be an honored guest. Then, when the time comes, you and yours will depart for the north edge of town. I've arranged for a scant few of the smaller town gates to be left unmanned at that hour. If the enemy must come, let him come at a place of my choosing. You are to watch one while my personal guard watches the other. And when the ships come into sight, we'll declare a new set of targets for the tourney!"</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"And if there are no ships? If the man spoke false?"</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Then we'll have had a fine day of celebration, and we'll have but a single new target for the militia.", came the stern reply.</span> </p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">***</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"I hate this.", the King said angrily as he slammed his chamber door. "A week ago a man could speak openly in his own home, and now I'm acting as if I were the unwelcome intruder. So, tell me what message that fancy boy brought."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Seeburn unfolded the message once again. "It's from Euphemia. That's the Halfling I spoke of. She says she managed to slip away from her father briefly, long enough to arrange for this message. She's held in Carbury, up the Slane River, in Hibernia. The messenger is a 'Walking Monk', a traveling holy man of the east, and is otherwise uninvolved."</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"And why do I care where your Halfling friend is?"</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Her father is the head of the Masque, and where she is, so is he.", came the simple answer.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The King grumbled, but knew his son was probably right.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"We go to war tonight.", he said, changing the subject. "Or more likely, war comes to us, whether we like it or not."</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"I'm at your side, father.", Seeburn declared without hesitation.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"No, I need a true warrior, someone I can trust to stand and fight.", replied the King dismissively. "You can stand with your friends. I'm setting them to deal with the enemy's diversion along the north wall, out of harm's way."</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Seeburn's blood boiled at the insult, and he nearly drew steel, but held his temper in check. The kingdom needed its King right now, and he refused to do the Masque's work for them. But even as he left, he swore there would be a reckoning for this.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">*** </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The village commons was alive and colorful, even on such a bleak day. The merchants were glad of such an opportunity, and the mood was festive.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"I'll set the range.", Sylus called. The crowd gasped when they saw his target. A caskhead stood nearly three hundred paces away, dark wood against the browned field, with a large "X" painted on it to mark the center, and circles to measure the mark.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">He tested the breeze, drew back and loosed all in a single motion. The arrow arched high over the field, then struck barely a hand's breadth from the crossing point.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"That will be the final target.", Sylus called. "The first round will be at a quarter that mark, and the second at half. Let the games begin!"</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Then he turned to Seeburn. "You're next.", he said, waving him to the line.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The Barbarian began to shake his head. "I'm the King's son. I shouldn't compete."</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Yes you should!", hissed Penn. "Precisely because you are the King's son. You will need to lead these people some day. They need to see you as a warrior they can follow, a man who can defend them."</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Seeburn heard the wisdom of those words and cast away his dark mood along with the doubts it carried. He stepped to the line.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Again the music of the bowstring was heard, and a second arrow quivered in that same far target. Not as well centered as the first, but on target none the less.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Then a cheer went up, and the competition began in earnest. Sylus, known as an Olympic champion, would not compete, but Humans and Elves, Centaur and Half Elves mixed freely, and all were made welcome. Men and women both stood the line and tested their skill, and children as young as eight took up the challenge on a shorter range.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">There were a few personal rivalries that surfaced, but the means were at hand to settle them without bloodshed, and more than a few coins changed hands as the King's factor made book on each round.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">All too quickly, the sun began to dip towards the horizon and the chill of the evening air began to grow. Yet the King called for torches, and pressed for the merriment to continue.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Few noticed when some of the outsiders drifted away from the throng.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">***</span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Are they coming or not?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Sylus hissed for silence. No need to give their presence away.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The companions spread out in an arc about the unattended pedestrian gate. It was barred, but that was of little consequence considering the nature of the uninvited company.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Sylus spied a building with a hard tiled roof, a remnant of the departed Roman occupation, and quickly clambered up. It overlooked the small plaza and offered a clear view of the gate.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Seeburn and Nedel chose a small hut. The Sorcerer crouched by a window, peering out through a crack in the shutter, while Seeburn mounted a table, grabbed a beam, and hoisted himself into the rafters. From there he pushed his way through the thatching and crouched upon the roof, atop one of the support members.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Marcus and Cassius stood together behind the same building, while Penn and Imagina took positions skulking on opposite sides of a street, with stout walls to hide behind.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Then they waited. Before they departed the commons, the King's runner had told them that four sets of sails had been seen coming down the coast. If the diversion was to happen before the ships entered the harbor, it would have to be soon.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Patience and planning paid off. Sylus' sharp eyes saw the bar on the gate shift and rise, and a single figure slipped inside.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Carefully the small man, for Halfling he was, padfooted his way into the plaza, looking for trouble, listening for the sounds of alarm.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Detecting nothing, he gave a low whistle and half a dozen more shadowy figures entered and began to spread out.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">All froze, however, when they heard the sounds of a lyre drift into the area, and a hoof striking a beat on the cobblestones.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Then a single arrow took the leader, hard, in the shoulder, half spinning him around. And the battle was joined.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">" </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><em>Titan's Stature!</em>", prayed Marcus, and suddenly Cassius was looking over the edge of the building that had hidden him. He strode into the square, grinning broadly.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">" </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><em>Veerbeg</em>", came another voice, followed by a crash of cracking timber as Seeburn landed at the second entrance to the plaza, his towering height a match for Cassius'.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">One of the human raiders stepped back, his hands a blur of motion. Daggers flew, followed by a laugh of triumph.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"I'm up here, little one.", Seeburn gloated, feeling the passage of those blades. "You'll have to do better than that."</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Wow, you really can do magic!", cheered Imagina before sending a bolt of magical energy into the nearest bladesman.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Steel crashed and daggers flew, and blood stained the snowy ground. </span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Penn managed to entrance one of the attackers before being struck with a hurled blade. The wound was but a scratch, but it carried a burn as well, for the blade had been envenomed. </span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">He shook his head, trying to drive away the waves of dizziness that swept over him, but was soon doubled over in heaving agony.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Nedel's fingers traced the intricate patterns of his craft, as he loosed bolt after bolt of destructive force at the foe. One foe, the leader, managed to somehow dissipate one of those bolts, however, and stepped up to the helpless Bard, intending to finish him quickly.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">But the best laid plans oft catch an arrow in the thigh, as he soon discovered, and Sylus bow sang its own battle song.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Envenomed daggers flew from the trio at the rear of the raiders, scoring on both Cassius and Seeburn. Nedel's magic's didn't falter, however, and the building offered good shelter, despite the damage Seeburn had made when he grew.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Marcus interrupted his assaults long enough to mutter a charm of resurgence, and Penn managed to draw himself erect.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">" </span><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"><em>Veerbeg</em>", pronounced one of the bandits, and a bladesman of their company rose to meet Cassius, toe to toe and eye to eye. "We'd heard you were here, and we're ready!", the man grinned.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">"Really?", asked the dark warrior of the south. "You have a grave prepared then. That's good." And from there, his blade did all his talking.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Imagina had exhausted her offensive magics quickly, and was now busy levering her crossbow, making ready to fire. She wasn't as quick on the string as Sylus, but at close range her aim proved as true, and the first of the raiders to enter the square was the first to fall before her bolt.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Penn's sword was in his hand now, and for the first time anyone could recall, he seemed comfortable with it. The light blade danced for him, scoring blow after blow in a dazzling display of speed that left his foe dazed and confused, and bleeding.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">But the venom was taking its toll elsewhere. Even as raiders began to fall, Cassius felt the illness wash over him, and his stomach convulsed in dry heaves. Seeburn too had a greenish pallor, and were it not for the insane fury that possessed him he might have succumbed as well.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Sylus bow never faltered though, and the towering raider found that his newfound height and power had a fatal flaw. Small buildings no longer provided him with cover, and between Imagina and Sylus he was soon feathered with far too many arrows for one man to withstand.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">The three nearest the back, whether it was seeing their allies fall or because they ran out of blades to throw, began to retreat. Two vanished under cover of hurled smoke, while the third elected to stay a moment longer. It was a fatal mistake, for with no other targets remaining, the archers both concentrated their fire on him, and he fell.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">And it was over.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">Cassius slowly began to recover from the poison, though he was still weak. The battle madness left Seeburn, and he collapsed in an immense heap.</span> <span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Arial'">And somewhere to the south, they could hear the sounds of the pipes as the main battle began.</span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Greenfield, post: 5934180, member: 6669384"] [FONT=Arial]*** "So I'm not to compete?", asked Sylus, somewhat disappointed. "No, the people here have heard of your prowess, your Olympic victory.", the King beamed. "We want them to come, believing they have a chance. So instead I'll ask you to set the range and officiate. You're to be an honored guest. Then, when the time comes, you and yours will depart for the north edge of town. I've arranged for a scant few of the smaller town gates to be left unmanned at that hour. If the enemy must come, let him come at a place of my choosing. You are to watch one while my personal guard watches the other. And when the ships come into sight, we'll declare a new set of targets for the tourney!"[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "And if there are no ships? If the man spoke false?"[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "Then we'll have had a fine day of celebration, and we'll have but a single new target for the militia.", came the stern reply.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial]*** "I hate this.", the King said angrily as he slammed his chamber door. "A week ago a man could speak openly in his own home, and now I'm acting as if I were the unwelcome intruder. So, tell me what message that fancy boy brought." Seeburn unfolded the message once again. "It's from Euphemia. That's the Halfling I spoke of. She says she managed to slip away from her father briefly, long enough to arrange for this message. She's held in Carbury, up the Slane River, in Hibernia. The messenger is a 'Walking Monk', a traveling holy man of the east, and is otherwise uninvolved."[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "And why do I care where your Halfling friend is?"[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "Her father is the head of the Masque, and where she is, so is he.", came the simple answer.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] The King grumbled, but knew his son was probably right.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "We go to war tonight.", he said, changing the subject. "Or more likely, war comes to us, whether we like it or not."[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "I'm at your side, father.", Seeburn declared without hesitation.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "No, I need a true warrior, someone I can trust to stand and fight.", replied the King dismissively. "You can stand with your friends. I'm setting them to deal with the enemy's diversion along the north wall, out of harm's way."[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Seeburn's blood boiled at the insult, and he nearly drew steel, but held his temper in check. The kingdom needed its King right now, and he refused to do the Masque's work for them. But even as he left, he swore there would be a reckoning for this.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] *** The village commons was alive and colorful, even on such a bleak day. The merchants were glad of such an opportunity, and the mood was festive. "I'll set the range.", Sylus called. The crowd gasped when they saw his target. A caskhead stood nearly three hundred paces away, dark wood against the browned field, with a large "X" painted on it to mark the center, and circles to measure the mark.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] He tested the breeze, drew back and loosed all in a single motion. The arrow arched high over the field, then struck barely a hand's breadth from the crossing point.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "That will be the final target.", Sylus called. "The first round will be at a quarter that mark, and the second at half. Let the games begin!"[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Then he turned to Seeburn. "You're next.", he said, waving him to the line.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] The Barbarian began to shake his head. "I'm the King's son. I shouldn't compete."[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "Yes you should!", hissed Penn. "Precisely because you are the King's son. You will need to lead these people some day. They need to see you as a warrior they can follow, a man who can defend them."[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Seeburn heard the wisdom of those words and cast away his dark mood along with the doubts it carried. He stepped to the line.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Again the music of the bowstring was heard, and a second arrow quivered in that same far target. Not as well centered as the first, but on target none the less.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Then a cheer went up, and the competition began in earnest. Sylus, known as an Olympic champion, would not compete, but Humans and Elves, Centaur and Half Elves mixed freely, and all were made welcome. Men and women both stood the line and tested their skill, and children as young as eight took up the challenge on a shorter range.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] There were a few personal rivalries that surfaced, but the means were at hand to settle them without bloodshed, and more than a few coins changed hands as the King's factor made book on each round.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] All too quickly, the sun began to dip towards the horizon and the chill of the evening air began to grow. Yet the King called for torches, and pressed for the merriment to continue.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Few noticed when some of the outsiders drifted away from the throng.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] ***[/FONT] [FONT=Arial]"Are they coming or not?" Sylus hissed for silence. No need to give their presence away.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] The companions spread out in an arc about the unattended pedestrian gate. It was barred, but that was of little consequence considering the nature of the uninvited company.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Sylus spied a building with a hard tiled roof, a remnant of the departed Roman occupation, and quickly clambered up. It overlooked the small plaza and offered a clear view of the gate.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Seeburn and Nedel chose a small hut. The Sorcerer crouched by a window, peering out through a crack in the shutter, while Seeburn mounted a table, grabbed a beam, and hoisted himself into the rafters. From there he pushed his way through the thatching and crouched upon the roof, atop one of the support members.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Marcus and Cassius stood together behind the same building, while Penn and Imagina took positions skulking on opposite sides of a street, with stout walls to hide behind.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Then they waited. Before they departed the commons, the King's runner had told them that four sets of sails had been seen coming down the coast. If the diversion was to happen before the ships entered the harbor, it would have to be soon.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Patience and planning paid off. Sylus' sharp eyes saw the bar on the gate shift and rise, and a single figure slipped inside.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Carefully the small man, for Halfling he was, padfooted his way into the plaza, looking for trouble, listening for the sounds of alarm.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Detecting nothing, he gave a low whistle and half a dozen more shadowy figures entered and began to spread out.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] All froze, however, when they heard the sounds of a lyre drift into the area, and a hoof striking a beat on the cobblestones.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Then a single arrow took the leader, hard, in the shoulder, half spinning him around. And the battle was joined.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] " [/FONT][FONT=Arial][I]Titan's Stature![/I]", prayed Marcus, and suddenly Cassius was looking over the edge of the building that had hidden him. He strode into the square, grinning broadly. " [/FONT][FONT=Arial][I]Veerbeg[/I]", came another voice, followed by a crash of cracking timber as Seeburn landed at the second entrance to the plaza, his towering height a match for Cassius'. One of the human raiders stepped back, his hands a blur of motion. Daggers flew, followed by a laugh of triumph.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "I'm up here, little one.", Seeburn gloated, feeling the passage of those blades. "You'll have to do better than that."[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] "Wow, you really can do magic!", cheered Imagina before sending a bolt of magical energy into the nearest bladesman.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Steel crashed and daggers flew, and blood stained the snowy ground. [/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Penn managed to entrance one of the attackers before being struck with a hurled blade. The wound was but a scratch, but it carried a burn as well, for the blade had been envenomed. [/FONT] [FONT=Arial] He shook his head, trying to drive away the waves of dizziness that swept over him, but was soon doubled over in heaving agony.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Nedel's fingers traced the intricate patterns of his craft, as he loosed bolt after bolt of destructive force at the foe. One foe, the leader, managed to somehow dissipate one of those bolts, however, and stepped up to the helpless Bard, intending to finish him quickly.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] But the best laid plans oft catch an arrow in the thigh, as he soon discovered, and Sylus bow sang its own battle song.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Envenomed daggers flew from the trio at the rear of the raiders, scoring on both Cassius and Seeburn. Nedel's magic's didn't falter, however, and the building offered good shelter, despite the damage Seeburn had made when he grew.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Marcus interrupted his assaults long enough to mutter a charm of resurgence, and Penn managed to draw himself erect.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] " [/FONT][FONT=Arial][I]Veerbeg[/I]", pronounced one of the bandits, and a bladesman of their company rose to meet Cassius, toe to toe and eye to eye. "We'd heard you were here, and we're ready!", the man grinned. "Really?", asked the dark warrior of the south. "You have a grave prepared then. That's good." And from there, his blade did all his talking.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Imagina had exhausted her offensive magics quickly, and was now busy levering her crossbow, making ready to fire. She wasn't as quick on the string as Sylus, but at close range her aim proved as true, and the first of the raiders to enter the square was the first to fall before her bolt.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Penn's sword was in his hand now, and for the first time anyone could recall, he seemed comfortable with it. The light blade danced for him, scoring blow after blow in a dazzling display of speed that left his foe dazed and confused, and bleeding.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] But the venom was taking its toll elsewhere. Even as raiders began to fall, Cassius felt the illness wash over him, and his stomach convulsed in dry heaves. Seeburn too had a greenish pallor, and were it not for the insane fury that possessed him he might have succumbed as well.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Sylus bow never faltered though, and the towering raider found that his newfound height and power had a fatal flaw. Small buildings no longer provided him with cover, and between Imagina and Sylus he was soon feathered with far too many arrows for one man to withstand.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] The three nearest the back, whether it was seeing their allies fall or because they ran out of blades to throw, began to retreat. Two vanished under cover of hurled smoke, while the third elected to stay a moment longer. It was a fatal mistake, for with no other targets remaining, the archers both concentrated their fire on him, and he fell.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] And it was over.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] Cassius slowly began to recover from the poison, though he was still weak. The battle madness left Seeburn, and he collapsed in an immense heap.[/FONT] [FONT=Arial] And somewhere to the south, they could hear the sounds of the pipes as the main battle began.[/FONT] [/QUOTE]
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Curse of Darkness VII - Britania
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