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<blockquote data-quote="RedTonic" data-source="post: 5705641" data-attributes="member: 98994"><p>Wow, I'm very late. A combination of sickness and our copy of Dark Souls arriving has kept me rather busy! Unfortunately for the last few weeks we've had no sessions, since the PC holding my maps went <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /> up the same night I made the maps, sometime overnight after that session. For those who are like OMG WHERE IS THE COMBAT?! (ahaha) well, that's where it would have been. We're continuing the exploration via pbp until I can get the last new part for the desktop. At minimum, our motherboard and GPU were fried. I'm hoping that our CPU managed to escape. Our apartment's outlets are 3 prong, but for whatever reason, haven't actually been wired for grounding.</p><p></p><p>Anyway, enough unrelated grumbling on my part.</p><p></p><p>This next session had some poor teamwork and hilarity resulted. I was generous and maybe shouldn't have been.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">*****</p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">The night crept coldly and quietly but for the occasional mournful howl of wolves, the same midnight serenade which followed the patrol since setting out days ago. Agniprava held the last watch in the waning hours of night. The fog laid heavily on the restless land. Despite spring's coming, the air was still sharply cold; the dampness made it particularly bitter.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Agniprava walked slow circles around the perimeter of the camp, passing the time by reciting the mantras he learned during his training, helping to focus his mind and keep his attention sharp. The small, level clearing provided very little for him to train his attention on. Visibility out over the fields was extremely limited--he could see no further than a stone's throw away. Even his own noises were muffled by the fog... He realized that he no longer heard the wolves' howling. A tingle of intuition warned him that he was being watched, and that the watcher was unfriendly. He tried to espy the watcher, intensifying his gaze. He did not raise the alarm yet, hoping to catch a glimpse.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">The fog over the rice paddies drew itself into lazy whorls and eddies, but didn't submit to his gaze. He heard a susurration from the north, or at least, what he thinks is north. The camp itself seemed empty of any wakeful creature but himself. Quartered, the camp had tents in each secondary direction, with the banked campfire in the center. The stand of trees to the northeast had a tent stretched between the strongest two. South was the highway, running east to west. The rest was rice paddies and fog.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Agniprava edged towards the noise, nearing Belsea’s tent as he did so. He, as subtly as possible, kicked Belsea to rouse her. She turned slowly in her roll, her eyes angry slits. Not wishing to scare away the watcher, he didn’t seriously attempt again to wake Belsea or anyone else. He didn’t notice the glare he received. Whatever was out there hadn't chosen to reveal itself yet. After glaring a second more at the monk, Belsea returned her original position. Sleep was ruined, but she could pretend and hope the monk moved on.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">He continued moving in the direction of the sound, focusing his gaze even more, straining against the fog. The presence taunted him, just on the edge of his perception—he knew it was there, but couldn’t find it. It was mocking him. He hesitated, but was concerned the man watching them might be involved with the one the patrol hunted. Agniprava didn’t want to scare him away if he was simply watching. He edged ever closer, drawing low to reduce his profile. At the edge of the clearing was the half-orc’s tent. Agniprava cast around for a moment, then pitched a few small stones against the canvas. They plopped softly to the ground. No one stirred. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Giving in to the inevitable, the monk passed the tent and stepped into the rice paddy. He sank immediately in muck halfway to his knees. He paused, regaining his bearings. The source of the sound was ahead of him, but he was unable to judge how far. With a renewed sense of urgency, Agniprava pushed on through the mud and water. He was nearly two dozen paces from dry ground, which was only distinguishable to him by the weak glow of the dying campfire. The fog had closed around him. If he had had hackles, they would have been standing straight to the heavens. He stopped and sank down, listening intently.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">At the last minute, he heard something in the muck behind him. A heavy body slammed into him from behind, where he heard the voice, but his swift reflexes allowed him to throw his attacker over his shoulder, preventing any harm.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">In camp, Belsea had at last arisen. The strange sounds of shuffling through the camp and the soft splash had triggered her hunter’s instincts. The thick fog concealed Agniprava from her, but the darkness itself was only a thin barrier to her eyes. She heard something in the rice paddies north of the camp. She hissed, “Agniprava?”</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">The monk found himself being circled by two stocky, low shapes, barely more than silhouettes of deeper darkness. He stumbled and drew back, alarmed to find the second shape. One was bad enough; two meant… He drew himself up and centered his body and mind as best he could.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Belsea, hearing no response from the monk, narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the noises coming from the paddies. She went to wake the others.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">The shape before Agniprava resolved itself into a barrel-chested wolf. It lunged at him, growling. A splash warned Agniprava of a simultaneous assault from behind. He twisted and tore himself out of the way, barely avoiding being hamstrung.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Another wolf hurtled out of the fog and smashed into Belsea, tearing at her arm with its wicked fangs. It tried to bear her to the ground, but she managed to pull away, ripping open oozing wounds along her forearm. The feral reek of the thing was almost overpowering. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">A surprised holler rose from Borche and Ravi’s tent. Rancid breath awoke Mikealus as jaws clamped down on the tender join of his shoulder and neck. He screamed, thrashing in his bedroll for a weapon.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Hearing the ruckus back in camp, Agniprava realized they had been ambushed. Alone in the darkness, he was fueled only by his resolve: his fists pounded into his enemy, sending the wolf yelping back into the cover of the fog. He nimbly dodged another coordinated counter-attack. The beasts growled at him, frustrated, flitting through the darkness and keeping him off balance.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">In case any soul was not yet awake, Belsea screamed bloody murder as she fetched her sword. Her rage bubbled from her throat, powered by the will to survive. Her voice was quickly overpowered by the heart-rending shriek of a horse under assault. The sounds of panicked mounts burst from the copse behind Borche and Ravi’s tent.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">The wolf tore at Mikealus, spewing hot blood over the bedding. The captain was struggling to his feet, but Shuj had already gotten up. The shackled man could have tried to escape, but didn’t. He bellowed and hurled himself at the wolf savaging Mikealus. His weight broke the wolf’s vise-like grip on the young paladin, but his momentum tumbled him to the ground between the beast and the captain.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Cael stumbled out of his tent, wide-eyed, aware of nothing but the screams of his companions and the chaos roiling through the camp. He set his eyes on the first injured person in the camp and ran to aid her in fighting off the beasts. Calling out to his god, Cael channeled the divine spark and managed to close the wounds Belsea had sustained. Khader was hot on his heels, brandishing his hammer at the wolf.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Mikealus scrambled and kicked away from the beast, distracted as it was. His fumbling hands found his sword—he was not going to die unarmed! The wolf tripped in its haste to snap at him. Growling, it went for an easier target: Shuj, still off balance from trying to rescue his captor. Unable to get aside in the small tent, the man howled as the wolf clamped down on his thigh. Despite his best efforts, Shuj is born down, too weak from his previous wounds to resist. Al’Pacem’s flail slams into the beast, but it is not dissuaded.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">A flurry of fists and fur thrashed in the rice paddy. Agniprava felt his fists pound into the beast as often as not. The wolves’ fetid breath was ever at his neck, their teeth snapping before his eyes and their claws tearing at his clothes as he managed, time and again, to thwart them. He remained untouched, but they were almost as fast and nimble as he. The one he focused his assault on was slowing, in obvious pain; its snarls were punctuated with whimpers and it favored one side where he had cracked ribs. Suddenly, its partner pulled away, easily evading Agniprava’s attempt to keep it from escaping to camp. Taking advantage of the monk’s distraction, the wounded wolf retreated into the fog. The monk abandons the fleeing wolf and chases the other into camp, flailing through the muck that the wolf seemed to move almost effortlessly through.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Ravi tore out of his tent, panting; his shirt was rent from an attack. Belsea swung her sword at the wolf attacking her, stepping between it and the priest. The blade cleaved into the wolf’s shoulder, ripping a pained yelp from the beast. It snapped at her again, jaws closing only on air. Khader stepped up to flank the wolf and swung his hammer at Belsea's attacker; the wolf hopped aside, panting. Belsea’s slash snicked past her harrier, biting only open air but redoubling her need to avenge herself against the beast.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Seeing Agniprava enter the camp, Cael called out, “Are you injured, friend monk? Come on! We have to help the others!” He sprinted to Ravi’s tent to see if the man was hurt as well, leaving Belsea and Khader to finish off their prey. Borche was there, bleeding profusely from his side. The horses were frenzied, with at least three wounded. Almost half a dozen wolves had concentrated on this side of the camp, choosing the easy pickings of picketed mounts. The horses and mules, with nowhere to flee, were kicking and biting to no small effect.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">In the thicket, Sage laid about itself with its hooves, sending wolves yelping back. Al’Pacem’s warhorse and Khader’s heavy horse snapped their tethers. The latter bolted, blood dripping from its flanks; a wolf snapped down on a hind leg, but the horse’s momentum carried it clear. Khongordsol was a blur of hooves, foam, and enormous teeth. The wolves could barely close with her, and kept out of range of her attacks. Dismayed by the mounts’ enthusiasm for blood, one of the wolves broke and ran. Two of the mules were also beating back at the pack, sustaining a berserk rage which would have made the most bloodthirsty raider proud. Cael’s mule was paying for its relentless attacks: bit by bit, it was weakening under the determined assault of the predators. Ravi’s horse had fallen, leaving the wolves with one less hazard.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Mikealus' blade did not have time to glitter in the dim light of the tent before, with a frustrated roar, the man brought it down upon the beast. His prisoner had just tried to save his life - he was half-asleep for it, but he knew that Shuj had intervened. He would not ignore that gesture. The wolf collapsed as the heavy sword sheared through its spine, spraying blood into the tent walls. “PRIEST!” Mikealus bellowed. The prisoner needed—deserved—attention. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Another wolf leapt at Belsea, barely missing as she turned aside. Nearby, Borche was pulled down by his tormentor in a tangle of canvas and rope. Almost simultaneously, Belsea found herself being yanked to the ground by her original attacker. She tumbled into the grass with two wolves jockeying for her throat. Cael reached out to Borche, stretching past the ravenous wolf and managing to avoid its foaming jaws. He got a hand on the paladin’s foot and let the strength of his god surge through him, restoring some of Borche’s strength. Ravi cut at the beast harrying his friend, grimly hacking at its unprotected back. Khader smashed one of the wolves atop Belsea, crushing bones. It dropped limply. She struggled to her feet, defending herself as best she could.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Agniprava charged into the fray of beast, flanking one of the wolves along with his borrowed mount. The two pummeled the beast between them. The stink of sweat, blood, and fear was thick here. Even in the dark he could see white flash of terrified eyes. The warhorses were doing their best to throw off the pack, but they could only do so much alone. The wolves were relentless and determined. A wolf launched itself onto the back of Cael’s mount, bearing it down just as another one of its pack howled and fled. As though that howl had been a signal, the wolves seemed to change stance as one; yet another fled, howling urgently into the night. Another turned to flee, but was slammed simultaneously by three different mounts and collapsed.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">As Khader and Belsea fought to chase off the attacker on their side of camp, the wolf struck, tearing into her thigh. Bright red blood gouted and she collapsed, dragged down into a deeper darkness. Borche, fending off his own dark night, barely rolled away in time to avoid a strike for his throat. With Cael and Ravi distracting the beast, Borche rose through an enormous effort. He staggered under another rending bite, but kept his feet. Khader concentrated on defeating the wolf worrying at Belsea until it staggered and dropped. Opposed now by four men, Borche’s attacker flees with a final blow to its hindquarters.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">All wolves then fled or lying in the dirt, the camp goes quiet but for the sounds of gasping breaths and wounded mounts. Two horses laid in the trees, one mule was down, another horse had fled. Belsea laid where she fell, under the wolf which laid her low. Shuj laid in the tent. In total, five wolves were bleeding out on the ground. Cael darted to Belsea’s aid, thinking nothing of the prisoner. He stretched himself, receiving one last blessing from his god. That faintest kiss of life kept her spirit from fleing, but was unable to rouse her to consciousness.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Mikealus turned to the other members of his Order, trying to assess their condition. Only the captain and Khader had escaped without harm. Agniprava moved among the beasts, trying to bind their wounds and see which could be saved. One of the horses was dead, and one of the mules was dying. The latter he managed to bind with pieces of a shredded tent. Having done what he could for their mounts, the monk went to see what he could do for the men.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Ravi helped Borche sit. “I am sorry,” Ravi said miserably. “I hit nothing…” The camp was, yet again, a shambles. Khader dragged the wolf off Belsea and finished it with a stroke to the neck from his dagger. To be certain, he treated the other wolf to the same.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">The captain sighed heavily. "Is she okay?" he asked Cael, coming over. He squatted beside Belsea and looked her over as she returned to consciousness. She said nothing, letting her condition speak for itself. She seemed remarkably calm., though the energy required to concentrate on anything before her left her with little energy for much else.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“Will she recover, Cael?” Agniprava asked, standing behind them.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Mikealus hurried over to Shuj, checking to see if his condition has worsened. He rolled the man over. The man’s pallid flesh and still features told the paladin all he needed to know. Shuj had finally died of his wounds.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">The captain cleared his throat. "Excuse me." Al'Pacem intoned a quiet prayer and laid his hands on the gaping wound in Belsea's thigh. The worst of her wounds closed, leaving angry red scarring.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">The monk answered himself. "I suppose she will…"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Al'Pacem left Belsea and joined Mikealus in the tent. "Well?"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"Ah." Belsea opened her mouth and then closed it. At last, she thanked Cael for his assistance, for surely she would have perished without it. He assured her that the thanks must go to al'Pacem - he merely happened to be in the right place at the right time, but she disagreed—the captain had not been the only one to help her, she was certain.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Pain hung thick in the air before Mikealus spoke. "He may have saved my life. Chained down, he attacked the beast. ...and it turned on him."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">The captain shouldered past Mikealus and stooped by their prisoner. "...I see."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"I…"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"Don't blame yourself."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"Then what -do- I do? The man died - my prisoner died - to save me." Unable to speak for a moment, Mikealus struggled for composure. "How is that right?"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Al'Pacem sighed. "Death comes for everyone. He was already doomed; he did the right thing with his last moments. It is through no fault of yours--did you summon the wolves? Direct them to attack?" He asked pointedly.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"...I would not have wolves take his body again. A traitor or not, would it be wrong to bury him?"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Agniprava went back to the copse, seeking wolves. Ravi joined him, slashing another wolf throat open. He dragged the corpse away from the spooked mounts. Agni tended the remaining beast.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Belsea joined Ravi in retrieving and putting aside the rest of the wolves’ bodies, getting them as far from the mounts as possible. “What should we do with them?” Ravi asked her uncertainly.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">The monk pitched in. "We should use the bodies as completely as we can…leaving them would be wasteful…" He looked back. "wolf is a fine meal"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"Well, shall we eat the horse, too?" Khader asked scornfully.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Belsea offered a more measured response. "If they are diseased, you invite it into your body."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"Do you want my answer?" Agni said, noting the tone as he examined the last survivor of the pack for any signs of infection. It was thin, with ribs that shone like slats of a fence through its dirty fur. After binding the beast’s wounds, he moved it away from the beasts of burden and closer to where he slept.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Khader snorted. "No, not really."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"We abound with men who can easily purify flesh," Agniprava added.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"...Pretty sure none of them could purify my heart if I ate the poor beast," Khader replied quietly.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Borche coughed. "That's a bit..."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Belsea performed her own examination of the corpses. As far as she could tell, there was nothing very odd, though the wolves that attacked her were underweight. That was probably more due to the harsh winter than anything else.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Cael looked at Borche. "...are you alright?" ---that had been a rather violent time in the tent.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"I'll live," he replied.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Khader and al'Pacem emerged from the tent with Shuj's body between them, wrapped in a blanket from one of the bedrolls. Mikealus approached them as Belsea watched with interest. The duo placed the body in the grass. Al'Pacem went to the still-tethered mounts and worked to calm their nerves. The stink of wolf and blood are heavy here and some of the mounts are wounded. Agniprava strode back to the animals, particularly to check on the mule he helped. It took some time, but the captain was able to soothe his and Khader’s horses and re-tether them. Cael’s mule was still unconscious, but no longer dying thanks to the monk. Al’Pacem moved over to them after he had ensured that the surviving horses were securely tied. “Just a moment,” he murmured, and uttered another prayer. The mule lurched awake and got to its knees, but didn’t rise. "It's a valiant enough beast."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"That's quite a talent," the monk observed.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"A gift," al'Pacem replied.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"A precious one at that, considering what you've done."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"Ah," al'Pacem replied. "I suppose it is at that. The goddess may be merciful."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Mikealus turned away from Shuj's corpse and joined the others in soothing the mounts. Khader’s horse came to Mikealus's call and greedily nosed him for possible bribes. Khongordsol looked on jealously. He petted the animal's nose, giving it only a token bit of notice, before walking away to Khon, and stroked her absentmindedly. "...And you? A valiant battle, I'm sure..." Khon nickered at him and sought treats with interest.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">The fire had died and the sun was breaking over the distant horizon. Al'Pacem excused himself to offer his morning prayers.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"How do find we the wounded?" Agniprava asked, walking back to the camp after watching Al'Pacem walk off on his own.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"Miss Belsea has been recovered by the Captain. As are our fellow Order members. The prisoner has succumbed to his wounds.... and the day is only beginning." Mikealus headed to the cleared middle of the camp, and starts a morning fire.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"And so death finds him after all… A shame… For us especially I suppose...."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">"...More so for him, I think. What little life he had left was taken from him." </span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="RedTonic, post: 5705641, member: 98994"] Wow, I'm very late. A combination of sickness and our copy of Dark Souls arriving has kept me rather busy! Unfortunately for the last few weeks we've had no sessions, since the PC holding my maps went :):):):) up the same night I made the maps, sometime overnight after that session. For those who are like OMG WHERE IS THE COMBAT?! (ahaha) well, that's where it would have been. We're continuing the exploration via pbp until I can get the last new part for the desktop. At minimum, our motherboard and GPU were fried. I'm hoping that our CPU managed to escape. Our apartment's outlets are 3 prong, but for whatever reason, haven't actually been wired for grounding. Anyway, enough unrelated grumbling on my part. This next session had some poor teamwork and hilarity resulted. I was generous and maybe shouldn't have been. [center]*****[/center] [SIZE=2]The night crept coldly and quietly but for the occasional mournful howl of wolves, the same midnight serenade which followed the patrol since setting out days ago. Agniprava held the last watch in the waning hours of night. The fog laid heavily on the restless land. Despite spring's coming, the air was still sharply cold; the dampness made it particularly bitter. Agniprava walked slow circles around the perimeter of the camp, passing the time by reciting the mantras he learned during his training, helping to focus his mind and keep his attention sharp. The small, level clearing provided very little for him to train his attention on. Visibility out over the fields was extremely limited--he could see no further than a stone's throw away. Even his own noises were muffled by the fog... He realized that he no longer heard the wolves' howling. A tingle of intuition warned him that he was being watched, and that the watcher was unfriendly. He tried to espy the watcher, intensifying his gaze. He did not raise the alarm yet, hoping to catch a glimpse. The fog over the rice paddies drew itself into lazy whorls and eddies, but didn't submit to his gaze. He heard a susurration from the north, or at least, what he thinks is north. The camp itself seemed empty of any wakeful creature but himself. Quartered, the camp had tents in each secondary direction, with the banked campfire in the center. The stand of trees to the northeast had a tent stretched between the strongest two. South was the highway, running east to west. The rest was rice paddies and fog. Agniprava edged towards the noise, nearing Belsea’s tent as he did so. He, as subtly as possible, kicked Belsea to rouse her. She turned slowly in her roll, her eyes angry slits. Not wishing to scare away the watcher, he didn’t seriously attempt again to wake Belsea or anyone else. He didn’t notice the glare he received. Whatever was out there hadn't chosen to reveal itself yet. After glaring a second more at the monk, Belsea returned her original position. Sleep was ruined, but she could pretend and hope the monk moved on. He continued moving in the direction of the sound, focusing his gaze even more, straining against the fog. The presence taunted him, just on the edge of his perception—he knew it was there, but couldn’t find it. It was mocking him. He hesitated, but was concerned the man watching them might be involved with the one the patrol hunted. Agniprava didn’t want to scare him away if he was simply watching. He edged ever closer, drawing low to reduce his profile. At the edge of the clearing was the half-orc’s tent. Agniprava cast around for a moment, then pitched a few small stones against the canvas. They plopped softly to the ground. No one stirred. Giving in to the inevitable, the monk passed the tent and stepped into the rice paddy. He sank immediately in muck halfway to his knees. He paused, regaining his bearings. The source of the sound was ahead of him, but he was unable to judge how far. With a renewed sense of urgency, Agniprava pushed on through the mud and water. He was nearly two dozen paces from dry ground, which was only distinguishable to him by the weak glow of the dying campfire. The fog had closed around him. If he had had hackles, they would have been standing straight to the heavens. He stopped and sank down, listening intently. At the last minute, he heard something in the muck behind him. A heavy body slammed into him from behind, where he heard the voice, but his swift reflexes allowed him to throw his attacker over his shoulder, preventing any harm. In camp, Belsea had at last arisen. The strange sounds of shuffling through the camp and the soft splash had triggered her hunter’s instincts. The thick fog concealed Agniprava from her, but the darkness itself was only a thin barrier to her eyes. She heard something in the rice paddies north of the camp. She hissed, “Agniprava?” The monk found himself being circled by two stocky, low shapes, barely more than silhouettes of deeper darkness. He stumbled and drew back, alarmed to find the second shape. One was bad enough; two meant… He drew himself up and centered his body and mind as best he could. Belsea, hearing no response from the monk, narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the noises coming from the paddies. She went to wake the others. The shape before Agniprava resolved itself into a barrel-chested wolf. It lunged at him, growling. A splash warned Agniprava of a simultaneous assault from behind. He twisted and tore himself out of the way, barely avoiding being hamstrung. Another wolf hurtled out of the fog and smashed into Belsea, tearing at her arm with its wicked fangs. It tried to bear her to the ground, but she managed to pull away, ripping open oozing wounds along her forearm. The feral reek of the thing was almost overpowering. A surprised holler rose from Borche and Ravi’s tent. Rancid breath awoke Mikealus as jaws clamped down on the tender join of his shoulder and neck. He screamed, thrashing in his bedroll for a weapon. Hearing the ruckus back in camp, Agniprava realized they had been ambushed. Alone in the darkness, he was fueled only by his resolve: his fists pounded into his enemy, sending the wolf yelping back into the cover of the fog. He nimbly dodged another coordinated counter-attack. The beasts growled at him, frustrated, flitting through the darkness and keeping him off balance. In case any soul was not yet awake, Belsea screamed bloody murder as she fetched her sword. Her rage bubbled from her throat, powered by the will to survive. Her voice was quickly overpowered by the heart-rending shriek of a horse under assault. The sounds of panicked mounts burst from the copse behind Borche and Ravi’s tent. The wolf tore at Mikealus, spewing hot blood over the bedding. The captain was struggling to his feet, but Shuj had already gotten up. The shackled man could have tried to escape, but didn’t. He bellowed and hurled himself at the wolf savaging Mikealus. His weight broke the wolf’s vise-like grip on the young paladin, but his momentum tumbled him to the ground between the beast and the captain. Cael stumbled out of his tent, wide-eyed, aware of nothing but the screams of his companions and the chaos roiling through the camp. He set his eyes on the first injured person in the camp and ran to aid her in fighting off the beasts. Calling out to his god, Cael channeled the divine spark and managed to close the wounds Belsea had sustained. Khader was hot on his heels, brandishing his hammer at the wolf. Mikealus scrambled and kicked away from the beast, distracted as it was. His fumbling hands found his sword—he was not going to die unarmed! The wolf tripped in its haste to snap at him. Growling, it went for an easier target: Shuj, still off balance from trying to rescue his captor. Unable to get aside in the small tent, the man howled as the wolf clamped down on his thigh. Despite his best efforts, Shuj is born down, too weak from his previous wounds to resist. Al’Pacem’s flail slams into the beast, but it is not dissuaded. A flurry of fists and fur thrashed in the rice paddy. Agniprava felt his fists pound into the beast as often as not. The wolves’ fetid breath was ever at his neck, their teeth snapping before his eyes and their claws tearing at his clothes as he managed, time and again, to thwart them. He remained untouched, but they were almost as fast and nimble as he. The one he focused his assault on was slowing, in obvious pain; its snarls were punctuated with whimpers and it favored one side where he had cracked ribs. Suddenly, its partner pulled away, easily evading Agniprava’s attempt to keep it from escaping to camp. Taking advantage of the monk’s distraction, the wounded wolf retreated into the fog. The monk abandons the fleeing wolf and chases the other into camp, flailing through the muck that the wolf seemed to move almost effortlessly through. Ravi tore out of his tent, panting; his shirt was rent from an attack. Belsea swung her sword at the wolf attacking her, stepping between it and the priest. The blade cleaved into the wolf’s shoulder, ripping a pained yelp from the beast. It snapped at her again, jaws closing only on air. Khader stepped up to flank the wolf and swung his hammer at Belsea's attacker; the wolf hopped aside, panting. Belsea’s slash snicked past her harrier, biting only open air but redoubling her need to avenge herself against the beast. Seeing Agniprava enter the camp, Cael called out, “Are you injured, friend monk? Come on! We have to help the others!” He sprinted to Ravi’s tent to see if the man was hurt as well, leaving Belsea and Khader to finish off their prey. Borche was there, bleeding profusely from his side. The horses were frenzied, with at least three wounded. Almost half a dozen wolves had concentrated on this side of the camp, choosing the easy pickings of picketed mounts. The horses and mules, with nowhere to flee, were kicking and biting to no small effect. In the thicket, Sage laid about itself with its hooves, sending wolves yelping back. Al’Pacem’s warhorse and Khader’s heavy horse snapped their tethers. The latter bolted, blood dripping from its flanks; a wolf snapped down on a hind leg, but the horse’s momentum carried it clear. Khongordsol was a blur of hooves, foam, and enormous teeth. The wolves could barely close with her, and kept out of range of her attacks. Dismayed by the mounts’ enthusiasm for blood, one of the wolves broke and ran. Two of the mules were also beating back at the pack, sustaining a berserk rage which would have made the most bloodthirsty raider proud. Cael’s mule was paying for its relentless attacks: bit by bit, it was weakening under the determined assault of the predators. Ravi’s horse had fallen, leaving the wolves with one less hazard. Mikealus' blade did not have time to glitter in the dim light of the tent before, with a frustrated roar, the man brought it down upon the beast. His prisoner had just tried to save his life - he was half-asleep for it, but he knew that Shuj had intervened. He would not ignore that gesture. The wolf collapsed as the heavy sword sheared through its spine, spraying blood into the tent walls. “PRIEST!” Mikealus bellowed. The prisoner needed—deserved—attention. Another wolf leapt at Belsea, barely missing as she turned aside. Nearby, Borche was pulled down by his tormentor in a tangle of canvas and rope. Almost simultaneously, Belsea found herself being yanked to the ground by her original attacker. She tumbled into the grass with two wolves jockeying for her throat. Cael reached out to Borche, stretching past the ravenous wolf and managing to avoid its foaming jaws. He got a hand on the paladin’s foot and let the strength of his god surge through him, restoring some of Borche’s strength. Ravi cut at the beast harrying his friend, grimly hacking at its unprotected back. Khader smashed one of the wolves atop Belsea, crushing bones. It dropped limply. She struggled to her feet, defending herself as best she could. Agniprava charged into the fray of beast, flanking one of the wolves along with his borrowed mount. The two pummeled the beast between them. The stink of sweat, blood, and fear was thick here. Even in the dark he could see white flash of terrified eyes. The warhorses were doing their best to throw off the pack, but they could only do so much alone. The wolves were relentless and determined. A wolf launched itself onto the back of Cael’s mount, bearing it down just as another one of its pack howled and fled. As though that howl had been a signal, the wolves seemed to change stance as one; yet another fled, howling urgently into the night. Another turned to flee, but was slammed simultaneously by three different mounts and collapsed. As Khader and Belsea fought to chase off the attacker on their side of camp, the wolf struck, tearing into her thigh. Bright red blood gouted and she collapsed, dragged down into a deeper darkness. Borche, fending off his own dark night, barely rolled away in time to avoid a strike for his throat. With Cael and Ravi distracting the beast, Borche rose through an enormous effort. He staggered under another rending bite, but kept his feet. Khader concentrated on defeating the wolf worrying at Belsea until it staggered and dropped. Opposed now by four men, Borche’s attacker flees with a final blow to its hindquarters. All wolves then fled or lying in the dirt, the camp goes quiet but for the sounds of gasping breaths and wounded mounts. Two horses laid in the trees, one mule was down, another horse had fled. Belsea laid where she fell, under the wolf which laid her low. Shuj laid in the tent. In total, five wolves were bleeding out on the ground. Cael darted to Belsea’s aid, thinking nothing of the prisoner. He stretched himself, receiving one last blessing from his god. That faintest kiss of life kept her spirit from fleing, but was unable to rouse her to consciousness. Mikealus turned to the other members of his Order, trying to assess their condition. Only the captain and Khader had escaped without harm. Agniprava moved among the beasts, trying to bind their wounds and see which could be saved. One of the horses was dead, and one of the mules was dying. The latter he managed to bind with pieces of a shredded tent. Having done what he could for their mounts, the monk went to see what he could do for the men. Ravi helped Borche sit. “I am sorry,” Ravi said miserably. “I hit nothing…” The camp was, yet again, a shambles. Khader dragged the wolf off Belsea and finished it with a stroke to the neck from his dagger. To be certain, he treated the other wolf to the same. The captain sighed heavily. "Is she okay?" he asked Cael, coming over. He squatted beside Belsea and looked her over as she returned to consciousness. She said nothing, letting her condition speak for itself. She seemed remarkably calm., though the energy required to concentrate on anything before her left her with little energy for much else. “Will she recover, Cael?” Agniprava asked, standing behind them. Mikealus hurried over to Shuj, checking to see if his condition has worsened. He rolled the man over. The man’s pallid flesh and still features told the paladin all he needed to know. Shuj had finally died of his wounds. The captain cleared his throat. "Excuse me." Al'Pacem intoned a quiet prayer and laid his hands on the gaping wound in Belsea's thigh. The worst of her wounds closed, leaving angry red scarring. The monk answered himself. "I suppose she will…" Al'Pacem left Belsea and joined Mikealus in the tent. "Well?" "Ah." Belsea opened her mouth and then closed it. At last, she thanked Cael for his assistance, for surely she would have perished without it. He assured her that the thanks must go to al'Pacem - he merely happened to be in the right place at the right time, but she disagreed—the captain had not been the only one to help her, she was certain. Pain hung thick in the air before Mikealus spoke. "He may have saved my life. Chained down, he attacked the beast. ...and it turned on him." The captain shouldered past Mikealus and stooped by their prisoner. "...I see." "I…" "Don't blame yourself." "Then what -do- I do? The man died - my prisoner died - to save me." Unable to speak for a moment, Mikealus struggled for composure. "How is that right?" Al'Pacem sighed. "Death comes for everyone. He was already doomed; he did the right thing with his last moments. It is through no fault of yours--did you summon the wolves? Direct them to attack?" He asked pointedly. "...I would not have wolves take his body again. A traitor or not, would it be wrong to bury him?" Agniprava went back to the copse, seeking wolves. Ravi joined him, slashing another wolf throat open. He dragged the corpse away from the spooked mounts. Agni tended the remaining beast. Belsea joined Ravi in retrieving and putting aside the rest of the wolves’ bodies, getting them as far from the mounts as possible. “What should we do with them?” Ravi asked her uncertainly. The monk pitched in. "We should use the bodies as completely as we can…leaving them would be wasteful…" He looked back. "wolf is a fine meal" "Well, shall we eat the horse, too?" Khader asked scornfully. Belsea offered a more measured response. "If they are diseased, you invite it into your body." "Do you want my answer?" Agni said, noting the tone as he examined the last survivor of the pack for any signs of infection. It was thin, with ribs that shone like slats of a fence through its dirty fur. After binding the beast’s wounds, he moved it away from the beasts of burden and closer to where he slept. Khader snorted. "No, not really." "We abound with men who can easily purify flesh," Agniprava added. "...Pretty sure none of them could purify my heart if I ate the poor beast," Khader replied quietly. Borche coughed. "That's a bit..." Belsea performed her own examination of the corpses. As far as she could tell, there was nothing very odd, though the wolves that attacked her were underweight. That was probably more due to the harsh winter than anything else. Cael looked at Borche. "...are you alright?" ---that had been a rather violent time in the tent. "I'll live," he replied. Khader and al'Pacem emerged from the tent with Shuj's body between them, wrapped in a blanket from one of the bedrolls. Mikealus approached them as Belsea watched with interest. The duo placed the body in the grass. Al'Pacem went to the still-tethered mounts and worked to calm their nerves. The stink of wolf and blood are heavy here and some of the mounts are wounded. Agniprava strode back to the animals, particularly to check on the mule he helped. It took some time, but the captain was able to soothe his and Khader’s horses and re-tether them. Cael’s mule was still unconscious, but no longer dying thanks to the monk. Al’Pacem moved over to them after he had ensured that the surviving horses were securely tied. “Just a moment,” he murmured, and uttered another prayer. The mule lurched awake and got to its knees, but didn’t rise. "It's a valiant enough beast." "That's quite a talent," the monk observed. "A gift," al'Pacem replied. "A precious one at that, considering what you've done." "Ah," al'Pacem replied. "I suppose it is at that. The goddess may be merciful." Mikealus turned away from Shuj's corpse and joined the others in soothing the mounts. Khader’s horse came to Mikealus's call and greedily nosed him for possible bribes. Khongordsol looked on jealously. He petted the animal's nose, giving it only a token bit of notice, before walking away to Khon, and stroked her absentmindedly. "...And you? A valiant battle, I'm sure..." Khon nickered at him and sought treats with interest. The fire had died and the sun was breaking over the distant horizon. Al'Pacem excused himself to offer his morning prayers. "How do find we the wounded?" Agniprava asked, walking back to the camp after watching Al'Pacem walk off on his own. "Miss Belsea has been recovered by the Captain. As are our fellow Order members. The prisoner has succumbed to his wounds.... and the day is only beginning." Mikealus headed to the cleared middle of the camp, and starts a morning fire. "And so death finds him after all… A shame… For us especially I suppose...." "...More so for him, I think. What little life he had left was taken from him." [/SIZE] [/QUOTE]
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