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Story Hour
Of Fey and Shadow - A Midnight story hour (Restored 14 May 2006)
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<blockquote data-quote="Emiricol" data-source="post: 1997389" data-attributes="member: 469"><p>Carith flung himself to his feet, drawing Raseri Styrke as he did so. Landing on his feet blade in hand he half speaks half whispers to the men at the camp, <span style="color: yellow">"To arms, there are men sneaking towards this camp at least two but there may be more."</span></p><p></p><p>Rongald and Dornhild, who had not yet removed their armor for the night due to the early hour, reached immediately for their weapons. Both slung shields and held aloft their spears, placing themselves between Masters Thrayn and Corith and the direction the latter had seemed to be concerned with. Rongald said, looking to Carith, <span style="color: yellow">"How long?"</span> His easy, casual tone in no way matched his appearance, tense and damp from adrenaline.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: yellow">"Another 30 seconds at most and they will be upon us. Stand fast and we will whether what ever this night brings."</span> Carith stepped up and placed himself just behind the two men, sword held high and ready to strike, eyes open for other signs of danger.</p><p></p><p>Across the fire from the three humans in his entourage, Thrayn stood. They were into the border between human lands and the Veradeen, a stretch of land under constant attack from agents of the Shadow and the resistance alike, not to mention the constant threat of bandits preying on those suffering from the war. These men Carith mentioned could be of any of those affiliations. Resistance fighters would make valuable allies, and bandits could be bent to any purpose that showed a profit, as Rongald and Bornhild could attest to. Agents of the Shadow would soon feel the chill of Veradeen steel.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: green">"Creatus Imagiae Absentia Visagem"</span> came the words of power whispered between closed teeth. Thrayn's hands traced a twisting pattern of circular runes in the air as he did so. The warmth of power began to grow along his skin out from his spine and wrap him in the very magics he called on. To his eyes, he was shimmering slightly, like a reflection in a still pool. To all else, he was the wind, unseen but not unfelt. His hands went to his fighting knives and pulled them free with barely a sound as oiled steel slid from leather.</p><p></p><p>Just as Thrayn shimmered into invisibility, the bushes nearby rustled - four eyes peering out of the shadows of the brush. Realizing they had been spotted, two Men leapt up, maces held high, and without a word began to charge, quickly closing the distance.</p><p></p><p>A mad light danced in their eyes, glossy, with pupils dilated incredibly. Both had skin of a slight blueish tinge, but one had dark, ugly splotches around his front left side, hideous bruising. Both men wore sleeved leather armor and pot helms, and carried round shields, but the enthusiasm with which they charged left the shields providing only a passive protection.</p><p></p><p>In an instant, they had nearly engaged Rongald and Dornhild.</p><p></p><p>Dornhild gripped his spear tightly as he waited for the threat to appear, and when the Fell burst from the woods fear gripped him; he stepped quickly backwards to avoid the foul creature. In his fear he failed to notice Carith step to his flank and close towards the creature, blade held in a low stance.</p><p></p><p>Rongald stood fast, bracing for the oncoming charge. He grimaced, fighting the urge to run from the undead attackers and set his spear to take the foul thing in the chest.</p><p></p><p>Carith then engaged his target, and swung low on the Fell, making contact at the knee. The steel blade cleaved clean through the creature's flesh, sending the lower leg flying in one direction as the creature stumbling forward. Even without his leg the creature continued his attack, swinging wildly at Dornhild. Its mace crashed into the ground at Dornhild's feet, just barely missing the legs of the back-pedaling Northman.</p><p></p><p>Suddenly, thickly congealed blood splashed down before Rongald from the creature's ruined legs as the Ungral crashed onto its face, losing its grip and tossing the mace forward as it collapsed. The legs were severed almost right through at both knees and were laying at odd angles. The Fell's chest pressed into the ground unnaturally, as though under a heavy weight. Without warning, then, the beast's head flopped forward, severed at the neck, and rolled off to the side trailing black ichor oozing from the opened throat.</p><p></p><p>Thrayn had attacked under the cloak of invisibility, running to flank and hamstring the monstrosity. Once down he had knelt on the mockery's back and scissored its head clean off with a single coordinated strike from both knives. Rongald recognized all this, and his awe at his Elf leader grew another notch even as he dropped his spear in surprise.</p><p></p><p>Meanwhile, Carith pivoted hard to stop his momentum from his attack and raised his sword high above his head. Bringing it down with all his might, he sliced into the first creature's chest, shattering its ribs and collarbone. It would have been a fatal wound on any mortal, but the Fell kept moving, crawling towards Dornhild, salivating.</p><p></p><p>Dornhild took another step back before he regained his courage. Gripping his spear tightly, he stepped forward and plunged it into the creatures gut, causing what should have been another lethal wound in any mortal Man, but the abomination continued to thrash and growl on the ground, barely a trickle of coagulating blood escaping its wound.</p><p></p><p>Without hesitating Carith raised his sword and plunged it into the pinned Ungral's skull, the blade passing straight through to finally end the Fell's unnatural life.</p><p></p><p>Rongald was staring at the bodies in astonishment, not noticing that he had dropped his spear, and took a stumbling step backwards, but Thrayn hardly cared as he trod off into the brush. Where these Fell had come from, more could be near. Worse yet if they were controlled by one of the Legates, directing Fell raids into the Veradeen.</p><p></p><p>Dornhild, the horror of what had just occured working its way past his battle adreneline once again, stepped back towards the imagined safety of the fire, gripping his spear tightly and casting accusing eyes at every shadow around the small camp.</p><p></p><p>Carith placed his boot upon the creature's jaw and pulled <em>Raseri Stryke</em> free. Hearing Thrayn walk off into the dark of the night, he walked after the Elf, calling back to the two Northmen, <span style="color: yellow">"Stay here, these woods are no place for Men at night."</span> He called out once more to Thrayn.</p><p></p><p>Thrayn grimaced openly - with no one to see him it was no betrayal of feeling. Finally, he waited until Carith had passed him and then spoke from where he crouched. <span style="color: yellow">"What you said was true, Human. Try not to betray our position. I'll follow you."</span> Perhaps following the human wouldn't keep them from the prying eyes of the Shadow's agents, but if they did come after Carith they would make easy targets for Thrayn's unseen blades. Somewhere inside, he began to almost hope they were found.</p><p></p><p>It was easy to see on Cariths face that he was unnerved by Thrayn's plan, but he simply nodded in the direction the voice had come from and began to walk into the woods, crouched low and moving with soft and measured steps, his unnatural eyes glancing about the woods, alert for any threats. He edged further along, keeping alert. Thrayn was nearby, certainly - though invisible, his steps were not well cushioned. Careless. Carith shook the thought from his mind.</p><p></p><p>He was about to hiss a warning to be quiet to the Elf when a muffled cry was heard ahead. He slowed, creeping forward, eyes wide and darting. Carith's eyes froze. <em>There! Movement!</em> He circled around a brush carefully, slow step by slow step, and into view came a tree, and kneeling before the tree, a Man.</p><p></p><p>The man was crouched over on his knees, bloody axe at his side. The big Norther's shaggy clothes shook with the force of his quiet sobbing, a pitiful sound that seemed out of place from such a large man. His cloak showed a moist, red spot on the side and back, badly bloodied.</p><p></p><p>Then it was clear what he crouched over. It was a woman in her late teens, now dead. Her feet extended out from his left, her upper torso and face hidden as he cradled them in his lap, back to the newcommers - the man situated between her and them.</p><p> </p><p>Thrayn slowly circled around the man, trying to get a good look at the girl. If she were merely badly wounded, he might be able to use his magic to bring her back from the brink of death and secure another strong arm to his side. As he circled, the woman's face and upper body came slowly into view. It was a sickening sight. The top of her head was caved in, pushing the upper portion of her face forward horribly. Blood and brains oozed out the back of her head onto the sobbing man's lap - though he seemed not to notice, or at least not to care.</p><p> </p><p>Carith stared at the man before him, who seemed too lost in his grief to notice him, for several moments. Deep in his heart a brief fear begins to grow. <em>Someday this could be Alyea. Although will it be me grieving her passing, or much more likely her standing over me long after I have passed on. Is this the fate of all who oppose the Shadow, a life of mourning and grief over those you love, and then an all consuming attempt for vengence in their name... Is that the fate that awaits me along my road?!</em> He stepped then from the shadows, his sword out in a low, obviously defensive position. </p><p></p><p><span style="color: yellow">"What was her name friend?"</span></p><p></p><p>The man paused, his hands trembling as they cradled her head in his lap. Without looking back he said, voice overcome with emotion, <span style="color: yellow">"She was called Oda, and we were to start a new life among the trees. We fled Shadow for... days, weeks, I don't know. We almost made it."</span> Another sob wracked his body.</p><p></p><p>Then, the Man turned his head towards Carith, tear-streaked face a mask of inner agony. The look was so... human, so genuine, that it took a moment for Carith to register that <em>this man was dead</em>. His face and lips degrees of blue no living man would display, pupils blown wide, consuming the irises. Moreover, his nose has been sliced off, a trophy for an Orc no doubt.</p><p></p><p>With a pleading and unsteady voice he cried, <span style="color: Yellow">"Please, you must help me tend to her body and bury her. I was knocked unconscious in a battle with Orcs, and when I awoke, she was gone. I tracked her, hoping to find her, and I did, just in time to see her struck down by those <em>fal'the</em>, the Fell. Companions of ours from a fight with Orcs, who Rose while I was unconscious. They left her body here, charging off into the woods - probably towards you. I hope you've put those abominations down! I hope Oda can rest knowing she is avenged!"</span> at this last, his voice grew strong and steady, gruff with rage at circumstances beyond his control. <span style="color: Yellow">"How can I face tomorrow without my Oda?"</span> he sobbed once more, leaning over the body and cradling it tenderly.</p><p></p><p>For a moment watching this man weep over the broken body of his beloved, Thrayn felt a surge of pity. This was him just a few short years ago - cradling murdered loved ones. His pain was the more poignant, however, as the death of immortal life cuts off centuries of experience and feeling. <em>This man has lost only what little life his woman had remaining.</em> The pain was similar though and it brought back Thrayn's memory of his own losses with startling strength. As the man looked up and turned toward Carith, Thrayn was ripped from his reverie by the man's obvious condition. <em>Fell!</em></p><p></p><p>Acting with unfortunate haste he lunged at the man with both knives, desperately slashing at the once-man's neck. Memories of pain and the anguish of his own losses still pulled at him, however, and in his recklessness he stumbled as he swung. The first slash came short as he caught himself with his free foot, and the knife slipped out of his hand as he wheeled for balance. The second blade dropped low and dug into the dead man's shoulder, leaving a large but poorly-placed gouge.</p><p></p><p>At the same time, Carith gripped his blade and stepped forward, rapidly closing the distance between himself and greiving man. <em>Raseri Stryke</em> flashed downward quickly, slicing across the creature's chest at the ribs and splitting him open in a large gash.</p><p></p><p>The poor man cried out, <span style="color: yellow">"Why do you attack?! I have little of value, bandits!"</span> and with that he stood, readying his axe. His eyes still damp with tears, he had the expression of righteous outrage of a man betrayed.</p><p></p><p>Thrayn grimaced and lunged for his fallen knife. It had become visible out of his grip, but he still needed it if he wanted to fight effectively against this larger man. He grabbed the hilt and scrabbled back up to his feet, crouching low to avoid the Fell's backswinging axe. With both knives securely in his grip, he sprung at the confused Fell slashing in wide upward strokes. The blade in his right hand struck against the side of the man's face, chopping deep into his cheek and sliding out along his scalp, leaving a deep ugly wound. The man's head snapped to the side with the impact, throwing off Thrayn's aim. The blade in his left hand cut across the Fell's wide back, merely grating against the ribs on his left side. It would never sit well with Thrayn how the Fell seemed to ignore such grievous bodily damage.</p><p></p><p>Carith took a step back from the Fell now that the surprise was done, his sword kept in a low defensive position. <span style="color: yellow">"I attack to end your unnatural existance friend - do not fear, for soon you will join her in the peace of the afterlife."</span> Carith took a step back to give himself some more room, but the uneven footing of the clearing caused him to stumble slightly. He caught himself before he hit the ground, but the effort to keep his balance had put his blade completly out of position to attempt any sort of parry.</p><p></p><p>Carith's comment only further engraged the Fell, who swung his axe in a brutal chop at the woodsman' midsection. Carith watched with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach as the Fell drove the blow home with grief-given strength. The axe slammed into Carith's hip, cutting deeply, dislocating it at the joint and chipping the bone badly. Carith's world became one of pain and blurred vision. He kept his feet, but only through force of will, and even then he was totally out of position to defend from the follow up blow that was sure to come from the axe. <em>So this is it, then...</em></p><p></p><p>Thrayn was suddenly desperate to stop the creature, but would never be able to admit to himself that it was for Carith's sake. He stabbed wildly and took the Fell in the thigh, puncturing it deeply and tearing through the mass of muscle in the leg. </p><p></p><p>The Fell shrugded off most of the blow, and still swung his axe forward in a vicious slash at Cariths head, but his blow was taken off course by the last ditch efforts of Tharyn - the blow missed by a narrow margin, despite Carith's lack of defense. Pulling the knife out, Thrayn chopped frantically at the man's knee but to no avail. Deep cuts and rent muscles wouldn't stop the undead.</p><p></p><p>The Fell lunged forward again, swinging his axe again in another slash at Carith's midsection. Carith had finally come back to his senses in the scant second Thrayn had given him, and he lept away in desperation, narrowly avoiding the blow. The sharp pain in his leg nearly dropped him to the ground, his own simple footstep hitting him like a hammer blow in his wrecked hip.</p><p></p><p>Jumping to a full stand, Thrayn thrust out to the back of the Fell's neck, and his aim was truer this time. The knife partly severed the dead creature's spine and, exiting through the front by way of his larynx. If he had been a living man, the Fell would have dropped on the spot. As it was, he twitched and moved with difficulty, but continued to advance inch by inch toward Carith. </p><p></p><p>Watching as Thrayn desperately slashed into the creature repeatedly, Carith continued to limp away in horror, trying to put some distance between him and his implacable attacker.</p><p></p><p>The Fell continued to crawl forward, closing some of the distance between it and Carith, but the multitude of wounds Thrayn had inflicted had taken their toll on even dead muscles. The monster was unable to swing its axe with any strength and again missed the fleeing Carith, this time by a wide margin.</p><p></p><p>Thrayn leapt onto the fallen Fell's back and, hacking at its neck over and over in swift, harried blows, he took the creature's head from its shoulders. With a finall shudder, the Fell stopped moving altogether.</p><p></p><p>Catching his breath, Thrayn stood, staggering and panting. He looked over at Carith but didn't really see him. The blades hung from his hands, dripping blood and flesh into the now muddy snow.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Emiricol, post: 1997389, member: 469"] Carith flung himself to his feet, drawing Raseri Styrke as he did so. Landing on his feet blade in hand he half speaks half whispers to the men at the camp, [color=yellow]"To arms, there are men sneaking towards this camp at least two but there may be more."[/color] Rongald and Dornhild, who had not yet removed their armor for the night due to the early hour, reached immediately for their weapons. Both slung shields and held aloft their spears, placing themselves between Masters Thrayn and Corith and the direction the latter had seemed to be concerned with. Rongald said, looking to Carith, [color=yellow]"How long?"[/color] His easy, casual tone in no way matched his appearance, tense and damp from adrenaline. [color=yellow]"Another 30 seconds at most and they will be upon us. Stand fast and we will whether what ever this night brings."[/color] Carith stepped up and placed himself just behind the two men, sword held high and ready to strike, eyes open for other signs of danger. Across the fire from the three humans in his entourage, Thrayn stood. They were into the border between human lands and the Veradeen, a stretch of land under constant attack from agents of the Shadow and the resistance alike, not to mention the constant threat of bandits preying on those suffering from the war. These men Carith mentioned could be of any of those affiliations. Resistance fighters would make valuable allies, and bandits could be bent to any purpose that showed a profit, as Rongald and Bornhild could attest to. Agents of the Shadow would soon feel the chill of Veradeen steel. [color=green]"Creatus Imagiae Absentia Visagem"[/color] came the words of power whispered between closed teeth. Thrayn's hands traced a twisting pattern of circular runes in the air as he did so. The warmth of power began to grow along his skin out from his spine and wrap him in the very magics he called on. To his eyes, he was shimmering slightly, like a reflection in a still pool. To all else, he was the wind, unseen but not unfelt. His hands went to his fighting knives and pulled them free with barely a sound as oiled steel slid from leather. Just as Thrayn shimmered into invisibility, the bushes nearby rustled - four eyes peering out of the shadows of the brush. Realizing they had been spotted, two Men leapt up, maces held high, and without a word began to charge, quickly closing the distance. A mad light danced in their eyes, glossy, with pupils dilated incredibly. Both had skin of a slight blueish tinge, but one had dark, ugly splotches around his front left side, hideous bruising. Both men wore sleeved leather armor and pot helms, and carried round shields, but the enthusiasm with which they charged left the shields providing only a passive protection. In an instant, they had nearly engaged Rongald and Dornhild. Dornhild gripped his spear tightly as he waited for the threat to appear, and when the Fell burst from the woods fear gripped him; he stepped quickly backwards to avoid the foul creature. In his fear he failed to notice Carith step to his flank and close towards the creature, blade held in a low stance. Rongald stood fast, bracing for the oncoming charge. He grimaced, fighting the urge to run from the undead attackers and set his spear to take the foul thing in the chest. Carith then engaged his target, and swung low on the Fell, making contact at the knee. The steel blade cleaved clean through the creature's flesh, sending the lower leg flying in one direction as the creature stumbling forward. Even without his leg the creature continued his attack, swinging wildly at Dornhild. Its mace crashed into the ground at Dornhild's feet, just barely missing the legs of the back-pedaling Northman. Suddenly, thickly congealed blood splashed down before Rongald from the creature's ruined legs as the Ungral crashed onto its face, losing its grip and tossing the mace forward as it collapsed. The legs were severed almost right through at both knees and were laying at odd angles. The Fell's chest pressed into the ground unnaturally, as though under a heavy weight. Without warning, then, the beast's head flopped forward, severed at the neck, and rolled off to the side trailing black ichor oozing from the opened throat. Thrayn had attacked under the cloak of invisibility, running to flank and hamstring the monstrosity. Once down he had knelt on the mockery's back and scissored its head clean off with a single coordinated strike from both knives. Rongald recognized all this, and his awe at his Elf leader grew another notch even as he dropped his spear in surprise. Meanwhile, Carith pivoted hard to stop his momentum from his attack and raised his sword high above his head. Bringing it down with all his might, he sliced into the first creature's chest, shattering its ribs and collarbone. It would have been a fatal wound on any mortal, but the Fell kept moving, crawling towards Dornhild, salivating. Dornhild took another step back before he regained his courage. Gripping his spear tightly, he stepped forward and plunged it into the creatures gut, causing what should have been another lethal wound in any mortal Man, but the abomination continued to thrash and growl on the ground, barely a trickle of coagulating blood escaping its wound. Without hesitating Carith raised his sword and plunged it into the pinned Ungral's skull, the blade passing straight through to finally end the Fell's unnatural life. Rongald was staring at the bodies in astonishment, not noticing that he had dropped his spear, and took a stumbling step backwards, but Thrayn hardly cared as he trod off into the brush. Where these Fell had come from, more could be near. Worse yet if they were controlled by one of the Legates, directing Fell raids into the Veradeen. Dornhild, the horror of what had just occured working its way past his battle adreneline once again, stepped back towards the imagined safety of the fire, gripping his spear tightly and casting accusing eyes at every shadow around the small camp. Carith placed his boot upon the creature's jaw and pulled [i]Raseri Stryke[/i] free. Hearing Thrayn walk off into the dark of the night, he walked after the Elf, calling back to the two Northmen, [color=yellow]"Stay here, these woods are no place for Men at night."[/color] He called out once more to Thrayn. Thrayn grimaced openly - with no one to see him it was no betrayal of feeling. Finally, he waited until Carith had passed him and then spoke from where he crouched. [color=yellow]"What you said was true, Human. Try not to betray our position. I'll follow you."[/color] Perhaps following the human wouldn't keep them from the prying eyes of the Shadow's agents, but if they did come after Carith they would make easy targets for Thrayn's unseen blades. Somewhere inside, he began to almost hope they were found. It was easy to see on Cariths face that he was unnerved by Thrayn's plan, but he simply nodded in the direction the voice had come from and began to walk into the woods, crouched low and moving with soft and measured steps, his unnatural eyes glancing about the woods, alert for any threats. He edged further along, keeping alert. Thrayn was nearby, certainly - though invisible, his steps were not well cushioned. Careless. Carith shook the thought from his mind. He was about to hiss a warning to be quiet to the Elf when a muffled cry was heard ahead. He slowed, creeping forward, eyes wide and darting. Carith's eyes froze. [i]There! Movement![/i] He circled around a brush carefully, slow step by slow step, and into view came a tree, and kneeling before the tree, a Man. The man was crouched over on his knees, bloody axe at his side. The big Norther's shaggy clothes shook with the force of his quiet sobbing, a pitiful sound that seemed out of place from such a large man. His cloak showed a moist, red spot on the side and back, badly bloodied. Then it was clear what he crouched over. It was a woman in her late teens, now dead. Her feet extended out from his left, her upper torso and face hidden as he cradled them in his lap, back to the newcommers - the man situated between her and them. Thrayn slowly circled around the man, trying to get a good look at the girl. If she were merely badly wounded, he might be able to use his magic to bring her back from the brink of death and secure another strong arm to his side. As he circled, the woman's face and upper body came slowly into view. It was a sickening sight. The top of her head was caved in, pushing the upper portion of her face forward horribly. Blood and brains oozed out the back of her head onto the sobbing man's lap - though he seemed not to notice, or at least not to care. Carith stared at the man before him, who seemed too lost in his grief to notice him, for several moments. Deep in his heart a brief fear begins to grow. [i]Someday this could be Alyea. Although will it be me grieving her passing, or much more likely her standing over me long after I have passed on. Is this the fate of all who oppose the Shadow, a life of mourning and grief over those you love, and then an all consuming attempt for vengence in their name... Is that the fate that awaits me along my road?![/i] He stepped then from the shadows, his sword out in a low, obviously defensive position. [color=yellow]"What was her name friend?"[/color] The man paused, his hands trembling as they cradled her head in his lap. Without looking back he said, voice overcome with emotion, [color=yellow]"She was called Oda, and we were to start a new life among the trees. We fled Shadow for... days, weeks, I don't know. We almost made it."[/color] Another sob wracked his body. Then, the Man turned his head towards Carith, tear-streaked face a mask of inner agony. The look was so... human, so genuine, that it took a moment for Carith to register that [i]this man was dead[/i]. His face and lips degrees of blue no living man would display, pupils blown wide, consuming the irises. Moreover, his nose has been sliced off, a trophy for an Orc no doubt. With a pleading and unsteady voice he cried, [color=Yellow]"Please, you must help me tend to her body and bury her. I was knocked unconscious in a battle with Orcs, and when I awoke, she was gone. I tracked her, hoping to find her, and I did, just in time to see her struck down by those [i]fal'the[/i], the Fell. Companions of ours from a fight with Orcs, who Rose while I was unconscious. They left her body here, charging off into the woods - probably towards you. I hope you've put those abominations down! I hope Oda can rest knowing she is avenged!"[/color] at this last, his voice grew strong and steady, gruff with rage at circumstances beyond his control. [color=Yellow]"How can I face tomorrow without my Oda?"[/color] he sobbed once more, leaning over the body and cradling it tenderly. For a moment watching this man weep over the broken body of his beloved, Thrayn felt a surge of pity. This was him just a few short years ago - cradling murdered loved ones. His pain was the more poignant, however, as the death of immortal life cuts off centuries of experience and feeling. [i]This man has lost only what little life his woman had remaining.[/i] The pain was similar though and it brought back Thrayn's memory of his own losses with startling strength. As the man looked up and turned toward Carith, Thrayn was ripped from his reverie by the man's obvious condition. [i]Fell![/i] Acting with unfortunate haste he lunged at the man with both knives, desperately slashing at the once-man's neck. Memories of pain and the anguish of his own losses still pulled at him, however, and in his recklessness he stumbled as he swung. The first slash came short as he caught himself with his free foot, and the knife slipped out of his hand as he wheeled for balance. The second blade dropped low and dug into the dead man's shoulder, leaving a large but poorly-placed gouge. At the same time, Carith gripped his blade and stepped forward, rapidly closing the distance between himself and greiving man. [i]Raseri Stryke[/i] flashed downward quickly, slicing across the creature's chest at the ribs and splitting him open in a large gash. The poor man cried out, [color=yellow]"Why do you attack?! I have little of value, bandits!"[/color] and with that he stood, readying his axe. His eyes still damp with tears, he had the expression of righteous outrage of a man betrayed. Thrayn grimaced and lunged for his fallen knife. It had become visible out of his grip, but he still needed it if he wanted to fight effectively against this larger man. He grabbed the hilt and scrabbled back up to his feet, crouching low to avoid the Fell's backswinging axe. With both knives securely in his grip, he sprung at the confused Fell slashing in wide upward strokes. The blade in his right hand struck against the side of the man's face, chopping deep into his cheek and sliding out along his scalp, leaving a deep ugly wound. The man's head snapped to the side with the impact, throwing off Thrayn's aim. The blade in his left hand cut across the Fell's wide back, merely grating against the ribs on his left side. It would never sit well with Thrayn how the Fell seemed to ignore such grievous bodily damage. Carith took a step back from the Fell now that the surprise was done, his sword kept in a low defensive position. [color=yellow]"I attack to end your unnatural existance friend - do not fear, for soon you will join her in the peace of the afterlife."[/color] Carith took a step back to give himself some more room, but the uneven footing of the clearing caused him to stumble slightly. He caught himself before he hit the ground, but the effort to keep his balance had put his blade completly out of position to attempt any sort of parry. Carith's comment only further engraged the Fell, who swung his axe in a brutal chop at the woodsman' midsection. Carith watched with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach as the Fell drove the blow home with grief-given strength. The axe slammed into Carith's hip, cutting deeply, dislocating it at the joint and chipping the bone badly. Carith's world became one of pain and blurred vision. He kept his feet, but only through force of will, and even then he was totally out of position to defend from the follow up blow that was sure to come from the axe. [i]So this is it, then...[/i] Thrayn was suddenly desperate to stop the creature, but would never be able to admit to himself that it was for Carith's sake. He stabbed wildly and took the Fell in the thigh, puncturing it deeply and tearing through the mass of muscle in the leg. The Fell shrugded off most of the blow, and still swung his axe forward in a vicious slash at Cariths head, but his blow was taken off course by the last ditch efforts of Tharyn - the blow missed by a narrow margin, despite Carith's lack of defense. Pulling the knife out, Thrayn chopped frantically at the man's knee but to no avail. Deep cuts and rent muscles wouldn't stop the undead. The Fell lunged forward again, swinging his axe again in another slash at Carith's midsection. Carith had finally come back to his senses in the scant second Thrayn had given him, and he lept away in desperation, narrowly avoiding the blow. The sharp pain in his leg nearly dropped him to the ground, his own simple footstep hitting him like a hammer blow in his wrecked hip. Jumping to a full stand, Thrayn thrust out to the back of the Fell's neck, and his aim was truer this time. The knife partly severed the dead creature's spine and, exiting through the front by way of his larynx. If he had been a living man, the Fell would have dropped on the spot. As it was, he twitched and moved with difficulty, but continued to advance inch by inch toward Carith. Watching as Thrayn desperately slashed into the creature repeatedly, Carith continued to limp away in horror, trying to put some distance between him and his implacable attacker. The Fell continued to crawl forward, closing some of the distance between it and Carith, but the multitude of wounds Thrayn had inflicted had taken their toll on even dead muscles. The monster was unable to swing its axe with any strength and again missed the fleeing Carith, this time by a wide margin. Thrayn leapt onto the fallen Fell's back and, hacking at its neck over and over in swift, harried blows, he took the creature's head from its shoulders. With a finall shudder, the Fell stopped moving altogether. Catching his breath, Thrayn stood, staggering and panting. He looked over at Carith but didn't really see him. The blades hung from his hands, dripping blood and flesh into the now muddy snow. [/QUOTE]
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Of Fey and Shadow - A Midnight story hour (Restored 14 May 2006)
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