Battle at Harkon Manor

[Sugar_Silk]

Darling had assumed the lights had been another of Fallon's spells, or perhaps that the Dwarf was expecting a winged messenger. As several arrows zinged past her, these thoughts left her and she veered instead for the ragged group that was forming in the field just out of archer range. They were gathering wounded back to safety as she swooped nearer to them, and though they seemed startled at her approach, they fired no arrows.

A much more agreeable spot to land.

Darling barely registered it when one of the men started swinging something nervously around his head, more concerned with landing now than any potential attack. She was here to meet with Irregulars, and this collection of characters was decidedly irregular.

"I seek Martomum!" She called over the sounds of battle, just as the Griffon's hind feet touched the blessed earth again.
"I have vital information, please help me down from here!"

 

[Scratched_back]

”Hah, it’s a woman!” Elms lets the Bolas slow and then stop entirely as he dashed forward to the winged beast and held his hand out to help the newcomer down from her precarious perch. ”Nice entrance…” he reached up for her hand ”…and if you don’t want everyone else to see your nice entrance I’d cover it up if I were you, some soldiers aren’t the fine gentleman that I am. Elms at your service, darlin’.” He let out a chuckle and revealed a toothy grin. “That’s what you get for wearin’ dresses for riding.”

[Sblock=OOC]Sorry, couldn't help it! I shall attempt to get control of my sense of humour... But I can't make any promises! [/sblock]

 

[Dragonwriter]

Jareth drags another of the innumerable injured back, breathing a mental sigh of relief as the strange rider is apparently friendly. Though after a chat with that bull-headed dwarf, she might not be.

He stands nearby, taking a short break from his now-monotonous work and let more of his adrenaline fade.

[sblock=OOC EDIT]
SB, don't worry about it. Someone in this group needs a sense of humor!
[/sblock]

 

[Fangor the Fierce]

As the red haired woman dismounts, Mal can only stare in amazement. She was lovely, but her choice of clothing had him a little weary of her role in this whole thing. Seriously, riding high above everyone with such a short dress was only asking for trouble...

Turning his attention back to the wounded, he continues to try to save as many as possible as he watches a few open their eyes, now safe from death's doorway. They would live. That was what mattered for now.

Continuing to heal, he awaits the result of the battle...

 

[Gondsman]

[sblock=ooc]not seeing an updated map, so just find a wounded someone and stabilize or otherwise bind wounds heal[/sblock]

Shaking his head at the improbable arrival to the party "Another woman!" he curses to himself under his breath. At least the mount should set that witch back a peg. Lurik busies himself with the wounded, though more to look at the wounds and poke around than to easy any suffering.

 

[ghostcat]

The dwarf's accent had certainly got worse. Trinham could not understand what is last statement meant. He suspects that Martomum mean they should gather the elves as well as the villagers. Normally Trinham would have done this but, having just been in a fight for his life, he is feeling anything but charitable. Therefore, Trinham ignores the elves and keeps getting the villages to collect their own wounded.

Suddenly a new threat arrives in the form of a flying creature, complete with rider. While the archers shooting at it boded well, Trinham is not that naive that he believed that "The enemy of my enemy is my friend" bull****, he therefore readies a Magic Missile targeted at the rider not the beast. Fortunately his fears are groundless and the rider proves to be a messenger for Martomum. An attractive messenger at that. At this stage Trinham completely looses his concentrations as he starts to daydream. Pulling himself back to reality he urges a couple of the villagers to grab one of the wounded.

 

[Sugar_Silk]

Darling was was glad when one of the strangers rushed forward to aid her dismount. She finished undoing the saddle and then took the hand he offered. When the rough looking man chose to mock her modesty, her brow rose in an amused and appraising way and she stared into his cool, gray eyes until they met back with hers. Darlin'?

"I must apologize for my indecency!" her expression feigned innocence, as she cast her eyes to the ground and gave an appealing curtsy, "This is my first aerial suicide mission, I shall try to be more proper..." Her eyes flashed back up from her snide supplication, looking at Elms through her long, lovely lashes with a devilish smirk. "My name is Darling, have we met before?"

 

[Scratched_back]

"No need to apologise to me, miss!" Elms awkwardly returned the bow, it was obvious to all around that this is not a motion he is used to. "It was my pleasure to be in the right place at the right time to have been such a service, miss.". He smiled a toothy smile again as he rose and threw the attractive girl a sly wink. "Your name is darlin'? It means lovely lady where I come from, it was a guess on my part..." he dragged his eyes slowly over her body, from head to foot and back again "...albeit an educated one. I don't think we've met before, I never forget a face. My name is Elms.". Unsure of the etiquette of greeting such an attractive women, especially in circumstances such as these, Elms took her hand in his and shook it quickly and firmly, her soft skin feeling alien against his rough hands.

As if coming around from a trance, Elms suddenly realised where they were as a stray arrow hummed past them and landed in the dirt several feet away. "Come with me, further back to the group, it's still not safe here.". Grabbing her by the wrist, Elms pulled the newcomer another ten or fifteen feet towards the group and spun her around affording her diminutive frame as much cover as possible from his own body. "What on earth is a girl like you doing here anyway? A battlefield is no place for women. You mentioned a name earlier... who is it you're looking for? I'm afraid I'm almost as new here as you are - I couldn't introduce you to a soul - but maybe we can look together. I was in the area, heard the sounds of a fight and stumbled upon a small bloody war! I wouldn't mind knowing what the hell happened here.".

 

[HolyMan]

"Dat be'n wa, I's unts tae no." the dwarf asks stepping up to Elms and Darling. He looks at the girl and asks pointing at the griffon. "Yuse flu 'ere frim Fallon 'o dat I is sures. Wa did dae mans 'ave tae say?"

Not understanding a word Darling looks to where the short bearded man is pointing, and she sees the griffon shimmer and start to fade away.

**************************************

As the dwarf talks to the two newcomers the rest of the group finish their gathering of the wounded villiagers. Those who are able to stand and a few sitting have the shields of wounded men at arms and have a makeshift shield wall erected around those who are the worst off.

Robert and the gnolls have pushed back the Treylor infantry and it looks like some of the archers are joining into the melee, their arrows spent.

 

[Sugar_Silk]

"Martomum, I assume." Darling said, turning to the dwarf and becoming more serious. "Fallon sent me to tell you that the Bear will lead the charge against the Treylor today, but that the Irregulars will not fight. Also, Dellex apparently rode ahead to scout out the field? I believe that last bit was Fallon's main concern. I get the impression that this Dellex is less than trustworthy?" She looked around at the assembled force, the wounded and the tired fighters freshly back from the edge.

"I'm afraid that I'm neither a healer nor a fighter, still I'd like to be of any help I can."