Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Carnifex" data-source="post: 635304" data-attributes="member: 227">The pain in hSebastion's shoulder flared as he swung his blade in vengeance, doubling his vision at the jolt as the blade was halted in mid-flight. Wyshira and Cord had both been laid low with single shots, and Sebastion channeled the anger at that vision, and the pain in his shoulder, into the flashing strike that drove through his other blade, rising as he stepped his weight in behind it, biting deep into the chest of his target in a crimson spray. "You want some more?!" he bellowed, and followed his attack up with another... the sooner he could put this behemoth on his grave-slab, the sooner he could make his appointment with the archer. In spite of the terrible compulsion to flail and scream, Mel fought hard to maintain her concentration in face of the blubbery, toothy, multi-eyed thing that fluttered around her head gnashing and biting. Through the panic and crashing she heard the ominous sounds of more conjuring, which made her mad. Raising her hands again she attempted to shield her face. "Someone-aah!-drop--a--bomb on that--eek!--mage!" she managed to gasp before letting the magic flame through her hands again. The force of it seemed to crackle in her mind as she let the energy through.The melee was whirling around her, but Ebri felt only more calm, more remote as her senses drew information from all sides, in an adrenalin-fed hyper-alertness that had taken years to become reflex. And it was reflex, though not as smooth as that she usually experienced. Worry muddied it. She was slower, she noted, in evaluating the relative risks and gains of possible actions, than she might be. Melisande. The beast hovered over her, an immediate threat-- huge. But her ward, for all her mooncalf ways, had significant reserves of magical defense. And others come to her aid. The greater threat lies beyond the door; the enemy will be beyond us shortly if the mage is not eliminated. With a flick of her wrist, she sent a shuriken spiralling ahead of herself--it would announce her, but it would also perhaps be a distraction-- and charged towards the door.High up in the rafters, the limber cultist drew back his bowstring again and after a moments hesitation as he decided on a target, he fired at the stunned Wyshira. The arrow once again flared into actinic light and struck the priestess solidly, discharging a jolt of electrical energy into her through the wound it tore. Burl wove his next spell, dark and eldritch words imbuing his spectral hand with necromantic energies that played around it in a green nimbus. The hand darted out to touch the abomination assaulting Melisande and brushed the tentacular skin of the noisome beast, discharging the death magik into it with a crackle. It shuddered and giggled spasmodically before collapsing to the ground in a twitching heap, a wave of disgusting carrion stench exuding from it as the ghoulish magic took full effect. Melisande managed to bite back the nausea from the miasmic air. Kale attempted to tumble away from his assailants but they moved quickly to take advantage of the openings he presented as he tried to depart; fortunately his armour and natural dexterity kept him from harm at the blades of the two men. He loped away across the chamber, rushing past the shambler but far enough away to avoid its mouth-claws, and quickly scaling the steps to see what lay beyond that door. It looked like a small room beyond, many books and suchlike on shelves and a desk at one end; probably Cancer's study. The man himself stood there, a nimbus of magic playing around his as he stood in spellslinging stance, a loaded crossbow on the table next to him and a wand held high in one hand. He smiled as he saw Kale rushing towards the door. "Ah, the whelp has returned? Want to suffer more pain?" A handful of darkly muttered words followed his threat, a spell that none of the party's spellcasters could understand, one that none of them had ever come across before, and then suddenly bristling, serrated barbs jolted out of Cancer's hands, glistening red as the wizard laughed loudly. "This may hurt." The barbs spasmed, launching themselves from Cancer's hand in a storm of hooks and blades that scythed through the air, spraying a wide area. Most of them slammed into the wall either side of the door but some went straight through and out towards Kale as he approached. He could see them, infernal, magical organic barbs of bone and poison, cutting through the air as if in slow motion towards him, surely a lethal storm that would cut him down... ...and he threw himself out of the way at the last moment, barbs whistling through the air just over his head before he tumbled easily back to his feet again. Cancer, his hands apparently fine once again, looked enraged. The twitching winged monstrosity was in no position to attack Melisande now, but the shambling bear-thing waded forwards ignoring the man who had just rushed past it and instead bulldozing towards Cord. As it closed on the monk it lashed out with one mouthed claw that hissed and spat as it closed in, hooking a hold on the dwarf's flesh and chewing brutally for a moment before Cord pulled himself free, blood streaming from the fresh injury, his mentality nauseated by the closeness of the thing in a way not unlike that of the werewolves. Melisande loosed more destructive magic into the fallen, paralysed beast before her, the bolts further battering the badly injured thing; still, the tenacious horror refused to die and her senses recoiled at the proximity to the beast. Wolf paced quickly over to the other door of this room that was rapidly becoming a chamber of horrors, readying his blade to strike whatever came through if it proved to be hostile. Ebri, her protective shield of faith holding firm around her, raced up towards the platform, easily pulling herself acrobatically up and onto the wooden structure just as a storm of barbs shot out of the door; she spied Kale rolling back to his feet, apparently unharmed, and then saw Cancer himself through the doorway. Her hand shot out to hurl a shuriken at him but her impetus had put her aim off and it buried itself in the doorframe instead. Wolf braced himself by the door as the noises from beyond grew louder, but when the door was simply smashed asunder he was taken somewhat by surprise. From the passageway beyond came two massive figures. Each was over eight feet tall, massively muscled reptilian figures, draconian in appearance. Their ochre scales changed to green in hue on their leathery wings, which they extended outwards as they entered the larger chamber; each wore motley armour of metal and hardened leather, bags and straps and jewellry abundant on each. Their draconic visages took in the situation in mere moments and then they set to work. The ready Wolf, still shocked but possessed of enough instintive reflex, lashed out with his bastard sword, but the blade just bounced off the scaled hide of one of the mighty beings. They rounded on him, each hefting a huge heavy mace as easily as if it was a toothpick, and hammered blows down on the unfortunate veteran; he took blow after brutal blow, and staggered back, bloodied and battered. Kaelos and Garus grinned humourlessly at the arrival of their reinforcements, chasing rapidly after Kale and Ebri to protect their master. Not quite able to catch up with the two just yet, although mere feet behind, they would soon close in close enough to use their swordcraft once again. Cord settled in by Wyshira in his unyielding stance, determined to protect her from further attacks, ready to intercept anyone else who might strike out at her. Even as he did so, the priestess could feel control of her limbs flooding back as the nerve-strangling pain of the monk's strike receded. The monk, faced with this new and well-armed foe, let loose a flurry of blows and kicks against his adversary. Amazingly, in the face of this storm of attacks, Sebastion somehow managed to avoid or block them all, the monk's aim thrown of by the sheer number of strikes he was unleashing. Sebastion replied with his own yell and strikes; his monastic foe deflected more blade-swipes with his bare hands again but one sweep made it through his defences and cut a deep gash into the man, blood gouting out and leaving him breathing heavily and severely injured.The thing was down and by the sound of it, it was either being tickled unmercifully or else it was choking on phlegm. Some corpse-magic from Burl seemed to have stunned it somehow, and between the sudden cloud of rot and burning blubber, Mel had to struggle with spasms of gagging while she reached for her spear. Not realizing what an enraged look of digust and indigation twisted her blue face, she aimed at somewhere around the middle of the flopping, tumescent body and plunged the spear down.Ebri continued to move fluidly toward the door, keeping the fleeting glimpse of the mage beyond fixed in her view. The air whistled along the kama beside her. Still to one side, she registered the presence of a new enemy-- the mercenary Wolf traded heavy blows at the other door. "Your mentor needs you--" she called to Kale, passing him. "I am sufficient for this--" The mercenary nearly made a double-take, but considering the situation, he was inclined to believe her. Still, if by some stroke of fortune the woman could destroy the mage, she couldn't stand against mage and armsmen: Kale was stuck on the balcony, for now. Cord could feel his eyelids blink in surprise as he wrested his arm away from the malevolent beast before him. This thing had never been human, unlike the coven werewolves. This alien, shambling mound was had been pulled from another land entirely, and in all senses did not belong deep within the cavern that he stood trying to protect Wyshira. High up in the rafters, the bowman took aim at what he now percieved as a greater threat; the figures menacing his own master. The bowstring pulled back taught, he sighted the weapon on the deft form of Ebri and let loose another crackling arrow, but this time the missile went wide and instead blasted a hole in the floor of the wooden platform with the crack of discharging electricity blackening the wood around it. Burl now acted to counter this sniping threat, the glowing ghost hand soaring through the air, now imbued with chilling necromantic energies. For now the agile archer managed to dodge the attacking ethereal manifestation, the spidery magiks of the potion keeping him balanced up on the rafters. Kale's two darts at the shambling horror went wide by far, the mind-chilling effect of the beast combined with the confusion of combat combining to throw off his aim. The monster itself once again assaulted Cord, but all of its frenzied strikes were easily dodged by the ready dwarf who blocked and avoided with practiced ease even in the face of this otherworldly thing. From within his chamber, Cancer watched the melee and mayhen outside, seeing Kale move to block the stairs up and Ebri continue on her path towards him, and he snarled out more magical words; suddenly there stood not one of him but five, five shifting Cancers created a blurred confusion of images that the monk would find hard to discern the real wizard. Melisande took the moment to try and impale the flying monstrosity that twitched on the ground before her, stabbing down hard; but to her amazement and horror the weapon barely even scratched the beast which, even in its paralysed state, seemed to have some sort of strange immunity to such a puny physical attack as she had made. Meanwhile the melee continued to rage within the main chamber, Wolf desperately striking at the dragonkin assailing him. This time he scored a solid strike, a mighty blow that staggered one of the reptilian warriors and drew forth greatgouts of blood; yet the behemoth seemed relatively unfazed by this and continued to batter the veteran warrior. The flurry of strikes with those mighty maces soon reduced Wolf to a crumpled, bloodied heap by the door, and with this threat dealt with the two dragonkin surveyed the rest of the battle, unsure as to where to pitch in next. Ebri charged the wizard amidst his myriad shield of mirror images, striking out with her kama; it hit one of the images which shattered into ephemeral fragments which soon evaporated. Cancer smiled at her unpleasantly; all four of him, the three remaining images mimicking the real face of the wizard. Kaelos and Garus were on the stairs as they approached Kale; forcing them to come one at a time, Garus first. He lunged with his longsword at the mercenary, but the man was easily able to evade the clumsy strike. Cord struck out at the abomination attacking him; his fist hit true, crushing vile flesh and shattering bones beneath as the monstrosity reeled from the force behind the strike. By him, Wyshira stepped forwards to pour cool healing energies into Sebastion, the warrior's wounds healing somewhat and the flow of blood trickling to a halt. Sandar went for Sebastion again, lashing out with what would have been a punishing blow had it connected; fortunately, the swordsman was able to turn the fist away and followed up with his own storm of attacks. Both blades bit in, slashing across the monk's midriff, and he fell in a pool of his own blood to lie crumpled on the floor.Ebri smiled thinly as the profusion of images appeared before her, appreciating the inherent philosophical irony of the defensive maneuver. The mage thought to use illusion to mask reality. But the truth is that illusion is reality. By its very nature the world was composed of shifting images and the fantasies of the mind. It was not that one could escape such, at least not until one should become enlightened, freed, but that one had to understand and recognize the world for what it was. The world is a snare set for the mind. Sheathing her kama, she leaped at the two nearest adjoining mages, kicking out in both directions.Melisande shouted in frustration as her spear bounced off the blubbery hide harmlessly and almost threw her off balance. Obviously, she would have to take other measures to obliterate this thing and join the rest of the alarmingly noisy chaos beyond. No time to worry about the others... Dropping the spear she patted her pockets frantically--("Oof", thought a stressed and grumpy Pierre)--until she found one of the vials she'd bought earlier with Burl's money. She yanked out the stopper and dumped acid over the fibrillating abomination, with a fleeting thought of salt on a slug, and a prayer--addressed to Naskha via His temple above--this would work.Pirhouetting to a halt as the last drops of blood from his strike hit the floor, Sebastion paused. Hand on the floor, double bladed sword out behind him, he surveyed the scene quickly from his half crouch. Wolf looked in bad shape, but he didn't want to take on either of the two mace-wielders without help, and certainly not both together. Cord appeared as though he might be winning his battle, so the obvious target was the scampering figure in the rafters. Reaching over his shoulder as he rose, he quickly sought the archer, dodging the attentions of a ghostly apparition - it looked like a hand - hopefully the work of one of the spellcasters. Timing the scamperings, he let fly, then gripped his sword and turned to move towards Cord. Opening her eyes as the last bit of healing power flowed out through her hands and into Sebastian, Wyshira took a deep breath and began scanning the area for the rest of the crew. She scarcely noticed the closing of the mercenary's wounds, or the fall of his opponent, the tatooed monk. Where are they.....? Cord was nearby and seemed to be holding his own against the summoned horror. Kale was on the stairs and appeared to be uninjured so far....... Thank the Lady!Burl was out of sight behind her, but Wyshira assumed he had managed to keep out of harm's way and was working his magic from the shadows. Wolf was over by the downstairs door and .............. DOWN! Two huge draconian figures turned away from his battered, crumpled form, their upraised maces dripping blood. Wyshira gasped. She would have to pass right by them to get to Wolf. The priestess' hand went almost automatically to a scroll she kept tucked inside her robes. It had been a parting gift, scribed for her by her sister, and Wyshira had carried it with her since leaving home months ago. She unrolled the stiff parchment and read the words penned there. The scroll disolved into shimmering mist, swirled toward and around her briefly, then vanished even as she dashed away. She ran straight for Wolf, ignoring the two dragonkin, and skidded to halt beside him on her knees."Yearrrraaaaaaah!" Kale's eyes went wide, and his lips peeled back to a fierce predator's growl. Wolf lie crumpled on the floor below, and these two would pay the price for what their lizard pets had done. It was a rage so fierce that it could only be born, at least in part, by a sicking sense of personal error. By his lead, Wolf had been isolated without backup. Kale may have brought this all about. Kaelos and Garus encountered the mercenary's deadly eyes, then saw something they'd never seen before. With both hands, the wild man atop the stairs drew steel. A rattle of chain in the left, the keening song of fine-wrought steel to the right. To the two lackeys, Kale was a rabbit, dodging and avoiding frantically to preserve his own life. But in a blink, something had changed- what had they missed? Kale, as a light fighter, was supposed to sortie and disengage, to stick and move, fighting, but remain somehow scared or less mettled than the swordsmen before him. As Kale advanced, his two opponents would learn their beliefs were horribly in error. Kale was a hyena, angry and out for blood. Kaelos and Garus, as swordsmen, dreamed perhaps as children that they would be as lions or dragons. But even if they could reach in and take hold of their childhood dreams, it would be to their horror to encounter Kale. Lions or dragons, to overpower and dominate? Yet at their heels was the hyena, nipping lunging, finally stripping the hamstring, plucking the eyes, crushing the throat. It was honorless, patternless, tractless attack, and Kale had no respect for the swordsmen's human weaknesses. A warrior's only hope is to die a fitting death, yet one look to Kale's eyes told the truth- they would die; a wasting, heedless, useless death. A lowly scavenger would mean their end, and all their study and art and struggles and dreams would come to a pathetic and empty end. Fire in his bones, Kale took a steady step, and struck.The cult agent up in the rafters was hit by a sudden shock as he nwearly pitched off into air; apparently the magic of his potion had now worn off and he was having to cling on in order to keep his balance up there. Now the spectral hand pursuing him around the place seemed a much gerater threat and he turned his bow against it, bracing his back against a wooden beam to fire a spark-trailing arrow at the necromantic conjuring. In his panic his aim was far from accurate and the missile soared off to explode against the wall in a pyrotechnic spray. In response, Burl's spectral hand darted in once again to try and deliver its chilling touch; and this time the frantic rogue could not evade the necromancer's magics. The man felt first the icy cold of the spell and then the unrelenting force of gravity, pushed off balance by the attack and plunging from the rafters to hit the floor below with a grisly thud. The now-enraged Kale went at Garus with his flail swinging wildly and brutally, a crunch as the weapon bit into the cultist's side and tearing at his flesh. He staggered, the impact of the vicious thing knocking the breath out of him, but he managed to keep his feet against the attempts by Kale to trip him. Then, for the three men; the two cultists on the stairs and Kale on the platform, everything descended into blazing hellfire. Within Cancer's room, Ebri had seen the wizard's hands once again swirl into patterns of spellcasting, and then from his palm shot a tiny, flaming bead of bright and incandescent red, that shot past her out onto the platform outside. The fireball engulfed all three men, and the raging flames quickly burnt through the wooden struts and supports of the platform, sending the entire thing tumbling down in a bonfire of destruction. Kale found his skin livid with burns - for the second time in two days - and his footing gone, losing his balance as the platform collpased onto itself and sparks roared up around him. Yet the inferno seemed less fierce than it should have, the rogue's body sustained by his comrade's earlier spell.Finding himself prone in the quickly-diminishing magical fires, leaving only the sputtering real fires lit by the pyromanic spell, Kale could see what had become of the two cultists; Garus lay still, a smouldering and unmoving body. Kaelos on the other hand seemed to me made of sterner stuff, standing up and beating out the few patchs of emebrs on his clothes with one grime-smeared hand. It looked like his little ruby amulet was glowing. The shambler once again went at Cord, foul mouths gibbering and snarling as it swiped and lunged, but the martial adept was able to easily dodge, duck and weave around the lumbering monstrosity's strikes. The paralysed abomination flopping around on the ground in front of Melisande continued to wibble and gibber even as she upended a vial of acid; unfortunately it seemed resistant to caustic substances too because all the liquid did was stream off it harmlessly, until when the acid hit the floor it finally began to hiss and eat into the ground. Ebri, faced with the evilly grinning myriad of mages, opened up with a flurry of blows, her leaping kick impacting against another image and shattering it into ephermeral shards; now only three wizards faced her, one the real Cancer. The two dragonkin tried to charge towards the central melee of the room; however the scattered furniture and crates hampered their approach and prevented them from reaching a full impetus as the hulking warriors closed on Sebastion, Cord and Wyshira. The burned, dazed, and anrgy Kaelos closed in on the prone Kale, stabbing down furiously and violently; Kale frantically twisted around to evade the descending stabs but one caught him on the flank to injure him slightly, drawing blood and a hiss of pain. Meanwhile Cord punched out again at the shambler, another punishing blow that staggered the monster while Wyshira darted past both it and the two approaching dragonkin to reach the crumpled form of Wolf, her magical sanctuary protecting her from the beasts even as the shambler finally toppled to the ground, Cord's assault too much for it - it disappeared into a cloud of smoke. As she reached the veteran mercenary, she was appalled at the injuries inflicted by the brutal maces and sheer strength of the dragonkin, leaving the man lying in a pool of his own blood. Just by a quick look at him she could tell he was already on his way out, the faint and ragged rhythm of his rising chest indicating that he was breathing his last few weak breaths before death would take him. Sebastion, deprived of his target up above, instead let fly at the most immediate target; one of the dragonkin about to pile in on him. Unfortunately the missile just deflected off the armoured scales of the foe without injuring it at all.Sebastion grimaced as the axe glanced off the target, wondering what the scales might be made of, and resolving himself to hedge his bets and try to stab a little more than to carve gently. It was a different style, not a completely foreign system, and shouldn't slow him down... you had to be able to adapt to the enemy his father had always taught him. Falling back once more on the lessons he had been taught, he noted the cluttered path before the dragon-kin, and heard more than saw Cord finally end the threat he faced. "This way, Cord," he said, moving to try and isolate one of the creatures for a moment, "try to concentrate on this one." Nodding, Cord followed close behind Sebastion.With that, he brought his sword up into both hands, spun it gently to the left, and then set into the attack.Mel squealed in frustration as her acid poured harmlessly off the rubbery skin of the flopping thing at her feet and started eating through the ground instead. She had a strong feeling she was wasting her time. The thing might be able to regenerate and pose a future threat, but from the explosive sound of things she was needed elsewhere for now. Raising her eyes she surveyed the damage. Wyshira knelt over a bleeding, motionless Wolf; Kale was smouldering but still standing; and Sebastion and the blind dwarf were taking on some very dangerous-looking creatures which, to her knowledge, were not your ordinary lizard-men. She raised her hands and once again invoked the now-familiar surge of energy, aiming it at the nearest of the pair of dragonkin.The pain of engulfing flames was so intense and familiar- Kale even forgot his anger as he and his two opponents plunged to the ground. With an explosion of pain, however, the mercenary was jarred back to reality. Garus had fought his last, while Kaelos had just begun. Spinning legs and body in a tight twisting arc, Kale leapt painfully to his feet. In the same motion, his charred arm brought down chain and ball against his swordsman opponent. The char of Kale's own flesh seared his nose; while Kaelos and his blade called out for blood. Kale looked to the man's eyes, hoping to see the change when their positions reversed.This must go more quickly, Ebri judged, listening to the room behind her. Several of the distinct points of sound she had labelled as her companions in her mental map of the conflict were either missing, or altered from the sounds of melee to wounded. Normally, she did not feel the press of time. Time flowed past, with little need for hurry or delay. One must move with the current, rather than swim against it, and attempting to beat a river at its own task is folly indeed. So it is with time. And yet, she did recognize that the risk of defeat -- not to mention, the death of potentially useful companions-- increased with each moment that flowed by. It had been no untruth she had told to Kale. She was sufficient for this. But there were more foes than this enslaving mage, and the others did not seem to be performing at quite her level of competence.That is likely to be detrimental to your ward. And that would be unfortunate. She moved to shatter more illusions.At first, Wyshira thought that Wolf's spirit had already gone, so severe were his injuries. She leaned in close to him, her cheek near his mouth, and was just able to feel the faint stirring of his breath in and out. How could he have lost so much blood so quickly? she wondered, taking a quick inventory of his wounds. The dragonkin's spiked maces had done their work all too well, crushing the mercenary's ribs and opening numerous gashes all over his body. The priestess could feel a sticky warmth seeping into the knees of her trousers as she knelt beside him. She didn't waste any more time. Reaching beneath Wolf's armor to lay hands on the battered flesh inside, she began chanting the words of her spell.Burl's spectral hand darted down from up above to strike at the mighty dragonkin, reaching in to discharge another burst of numbing, chill energy to the creature; in return it seemed barely slowed by the assault and more or less ignored the tiny ephemeral limb, pushing on forwards instead. Kale, now painfully on his feet, lashed out with his chained weapon; the flail wrapped round Kaelos'sleg and with a quick yank pulled him off his feet to lie prone in front of Kale; but the determined cultist seemed surprisingly unfazed, burning rage taking over his judgement and driving him on in survival-driven fury, and he was already pulling himself to his feet. Cancer's face was twisted once more into a vile sneer, angry and elated at the same time as he unleashed more dark magics onto Ebri as she tried to take him down. Casting defensively so that she couldn't disrupt his spell, he sent forth spiralling shards of red and black energy from his hands; a simple magical missile spell but one that punished Ebri badly as three missiles impacted despite her ducking and weaving, homing in unrelentingly to tear gashes out of her. As Melisande strode away from the still paralysed, twitching winged abomination, she sent her own brand of magic into the fray, the sapphire missiles arcing out with a pulse of bright blue energy to slam into the leading dragonkin, already injured by Wolf's blade and Burl's necromancy. The two bolts smashed into shards of azure light as they hit the warrior, causing it to snarl in pain and anger as bright red blood streamed down from the impact craters.Ebri whipped out a handful of her toothed discs, sending them slashing through the air with a quick flick. One missed entirely but the other two both struck; still the mage himself proved elusive but the two images shattered and disappeared, leaving only the true wizard standing there; despite this he still had an insane grin on his face as though unworried by this turn of events. The dragonkin continued their rampage across the room. One, finding it's path blocked by a table, simply picked the piece of furniture up in one hand, before promptly swatting down with it at Sebastion, seeing the blade-wielder as a greater threat than the dwarf; the impact of the heavy thing sent the warrior reeling and battered, though the table itself was reduced to pieces by the sheer force behind the blow. The other dragonkin hefted its mace and went for Cord with a flurry of brutal swipes, smashing hard into the monk with one hit while he managed to dodge the other hefty lunge. Kaelos scrabbled to pick himself up from the ground before Kale, managing to get himself back up on his feet and avoiding an opportunistic strike from the mercenary. His own blade was turned by Kale's armour though, and the two faced off once again. Cord and Sebastion moved to double-team the injured dragonkin, Cord doing the best he could to help the swordsman get in a strike on the tall reptilian before them. It was brutally effective as they moved to flank the foe, both of Sebastion's swords striking true to carve rents out of the dragonkin and making it growl and roar in some guttural language. Still - still! - the eight foot wariior was standing and in fighting spirit, but beginning to flag now from its many wounds and injuries. Over by Wolf's body, Wyshria hoped that she was soon enough with her aid to save the dying man. The healing magic poured into him, injuries and rents sealing up somewhat and the worst of the blood flow halting, but this was still a badly injured man. He was regaining conciousness though, coughing weakly now but looking around with bleary and unseeing eyes.DM's Note: Thigns were not looking good at this point, with both Cord and Sebastion reduced down to single didgt hit poinst in one round of attacks from the dragonkin!</blockquote>

Verification