Battle at Harkon Manor

[ghostcat]

Trinham looks over to where the battle is still raging to make sure that his help is not required. Seeing that everything is currently under control, he looks to check that Lora heard the comment about Dellex. Depending on whether or not he thinks she heard, he either moves over to tell her or moves over to where Martomum is talking to Darling.

 

[Dragonwriter]

Jareth rests near the semi-reformed shield wall, listening to the report from the woman, though not focused on it. The words register in his mind, prompting the thoughts, Dellex? They mentioned that name before, didn't they? Whatever. Not my problem.

He looks over the carnage, eyes drifting to the still-ongoing battle. He stretches his arms out, hand brushing his chain. My magic wasn't strong enough, my chain wasn't swift enough... It would seem my strikes were more luck than anything else. I MUST learn stronger magic. And perhaps a different way to use the chain. He removes it from his belt and takes a few steps away from the group, uncoiling it and examining it. Perhaps... Momentum, carried from one nearby foe to another? Difficult, but worth attempting, if it means I will take more of those elven murderers down!

[sblock=OOC]
Giving him a reason to learn how to Whirlwind Attack.
[/sblock]

 

[HolyMan]

"Dell-lex?" *phht!*

Martomum asks spitting at the name. "Dat do be'n ike is andy work," he continues pointing at the rolling black smoke.

"Grill, et's ye mens a gatered." he says looking to Lora. Then he turns to the rest of those gathered about him. " 'Elp wit dae wounded, an a 'atch fer stray'n ar-roes."

After Lora has gathered Claude, Trinham, and Jareth the group is led off by Martomum towards the fighting.

Looking ahead it looks like the archer lines have broken and as many Treylor are running as there are ones staying to fight. They run for both sides of the forest trying to escape in the cover of the woods.

"Well we be'n tae go round, or'n str-eights?" Martomum asks looking at the battle ahead his falchion held in a tight fist.

[sblock=OOC] Needing to get the groups seperated for what is to come. But will talk more about that in the OOC.

Group 2 -
Malaroc
Darling
Lurik
Marko
Elms

You can all talk/finish introductions as you see fit here, and then I will be fastforwarding to the evening/victory dinner and perhaps starting a new thread, for you all. [/sblock]

 

[Dragonwriter]

Jareth is relieved to have the worst of his wounds patched up, but surprised when Martomum wants to drag them back into the fight. His face twists into a scowl again as he says, "There's still plenty of them left. Circling them would just make them surge back and into us. But going to one flank and starting to work from there would probably get better results. And let us slowly plow down the line." He loops a coil of his peculiar weapon around his wrist, letting it hang down and drag along the ground for the moment.

He takes a few steps forward, then flicks the head of the chain back up, catching it with his left hand. "However, I believe you and I are the ones best-suited for close combat," he says dispassionately, a wave acknowledging Mart's falchion. "Oh, sure, Trinham and Lora have their weapons, but their magics are a bit more potent, and Claude is an archer. Far better with a bow than I, but not as good in a melee like that." He shrugs at the end, voice tinged with a bit of weariness. Nearly getting killed can have that effect...

He looks over the battle, his eyes going distant for a second. Memories... Always the memories will come. His face hardens and his jaw sets and as he turns back to the group, there is a fire in his eyes. "But it doesn't mean we can't kill plenty more."

 

[Sugar_Silk]

Darling tossed here hands in the air as the Dwarf and his party sped back into the fray. She watched for a moment before shrugging and turning back to the remaining force.

"A man of action I suppose... anyway, message delivered."

She went back to the spot where the Griffon had stood and recovered her bag from the ground along with a single snow white feather that she tucked behind her ear. She then opened her bag and began to fish through it.

"I, for one, am going to need a drink before I even ask whom my third commander today shall be. How many of these wounded men can walk, and where are we supposed to take them?"
[sblock=oops!]
Sorry HM. Didn't catch that... or else I was a little tipsy when I read it. Either way, all fixed now
[/sblock]

 

[Fangor the Fierce]

Hearing the concern over the wounded, Mal closes his eyes, but for split second. The images that pass through his mind for that split second are of the past few weeks, as he opens them. Glancing over to a coughing villager, he answers her, without really speaking directly to her.

"They will be in decent shape soon enough. See? Already some are standing, realizing that they are no longer on death's door. The rest will feel the same soon. Very soon. I am doing all I can to make sure that they live..."

As he says the last part, he moves to another group of wounded, intent on making sure they are all healing well enough and helping those that are healed enough to stand and assist the others.

 

[HolyMan]

[sblock=Sugar Silk]
This is a few posts up -

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.

Darling's bag is on the ground along with a single pure white feather. [/sblock]

 

[ghostcat]

Trinham is pleased to have something definite to do, even if it does involve going back into the fight. At least this time they stand a good chance. Following Martomum, he readies and cocks his crossbow looking round for a good target.

Replying to Jareth, Trinham says "Unfortunately magic is a limited resource. Also, the elves seem to be partially resistant to mine. So I'll stick with my weapons unless a suitable opportunity presents itself. That said, I can protect a couple of you from arrows, if you need it.

[sblock=Statblock]Defence: AC 15, HP 19/20
Protection From Arrows: (DR10) 40/40.

Attack:
Crossbow, Light +5 1d8 19-20/x2 80'
Dagger +4 1d4+1 19-20/x2
Dagger (Thrown) +5 1d4 19-20/x2 10'
Longsword +4 1d8+1 19-20/x2

Saves: Fort +3, Ref +4, Will *3

Crossbow Bolts: 30, 29, 28, ??

[sblock="Spell List"]Sorcerer Level 0 Spells: Daze, Detect magic, Flare, Ghost Sound, Mage Hand.
Sorcerer Level 1 Spells: Magic Missile, Color Spray
Sorcerer level 2 Spells: Protection from Arrows
[/sblock][sblock="Spells Per Day"]0 Level: (_) (_) (_) (_) (_)
1 Level: (X) (X) (X) (_) (_) (_)
2 Level: (X) (_) (_)[/sblock][/sblock]

 

[Scratched_back]

Furrowing his brow momentarily as he decoded the Dwarf's odd dialect in his mind, Elms again took a moment to look around the battlefield. Within fifty feet of him he could see dead Treylor, dead villagers, plenty of walking-wounded. He had quite literally walked into the middle of the largest battle he had ever witnessed. As the adrenaline left his system Elms suddenly felt quite drained. Despite being far from a novice with a blade, the Treylor soldier he had faced had not seemed worried and had parried away his blows with ease. Shuddering with a sudden burst of anger, Elms silently vowed to work on his swordsmanship. This would not happen again.

"Stay with me, love. This is no place for a lady to be walking around by herself. Looks like you're in the same boat as me, I've never met these folks in my life either, but it seems they know what they're doing. I know of this place, Harkon Manor. If these folk have gathered here to make a stand, then I'll stick around to see if I can help.". Looking Darling up and down again, trying his hardest not to leer, Elms pulls his second shortsword from the scabbard strapped over his should and adjusted his grip on it to hold the pommel toward her. "Take this, I don't see a weapon on you, and you don't have many places to hide one from the looks of you.".

Tearing his eyes away from Darling, Elms became aware of an odd-looking man passing them, mumbling about the recovery of the villagers. Slightly odd looking because of his long braided beard, but there was something else slightly unusual about the man that Elms couldn't place. As the man continued past them and toward the wounded, Elms began to feel a strong itching in his forearm. He put his hand to the wound that he had suffered in the battle and was surprised to find that not only had the bleeding stopped, but the wound had completely closed and scabbed over. "You!" he yelled as he approached the man, feeling the tingling in his arm grow stronger as he neared. "Is this your doing? You have mended my wounds... somehow.". Holding up his left forearm for inspection, Elms extended his right hand to shake Malaroc by hand. "I am Elms. Who are you? How did you come to be here?".

 

[Fangor the Fierce]

Taken back by the sudden interest in his abilities, Mal simply nods. "It is not as powerful as I would hope, but it allows those that are near me to heal quickly. They will not completely heal, it only allows a boost to be able to stop the bleeding or wounds."

Spotting the lovely woman nearby Elms, Mal bows out of respect. "I am Mal. I was aiding in the battle preparations, but suddenly found myself sticking around to help these people, as they sheltered me and fed me in my short time here. Now, I am making sure that no more of them die..."

He surveys the scene, noting that at least there are no more deaths for now. Turning back to the dwarf with the need for some grammar lessons, he shakes his head as the others move to continue the attack. "I am best served here... to guard the villagers and men at arms. It is they that I am looking after."