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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 7132563" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 41</p><p></p><p>Jargo’s approach toward his staggered foe was interrupted as an arrow thudded into his coat. But he only spared Glori a desultory glance before returning his focus to Bredan. “When I’m finished with you,” he growled, “I will deal with your woman.”</p><p></p><p>Bredan felt a sudden calm fall over him. His hand tightened on the hilt of his father’s sword. He flashed back to the courtyard behind the smithy, where he and his uncle had spent countless hours practicing with every kind of weapon the elder Karras could either get his hands on or simulate with blocks of wood. This giant was unlike any foe that Bredan had ever faced, but the axe was just another weapon. Time seemed to slow to a crawl and he could see in his mind how the giant would place his foot, how he would shift his weight as he placed his strength behind an unblockable sweep of that deadly edge.</p><p></p><p>Bredan sprang up and swept his sword into the giant’s path. He wasn’t sure if it was the potion or the adrenaline rushing through his body, but the weapon suddenly felt as light as the wooden practice blades he had trained so long with. Jargo met the blade and parried it easily, bringing his axe up to chop the edge into his adversary’s throat as the weight of his sword pulled him inevitably around. But Bredan kept control, continuing his pivot and spinning down into a crouch even as the axe carved the air where he’d been just a moment before. The half-ogre realized his mistake and released the axe to drive his foe back with a punch to the face that likely would have shattered the smith’s nose if not his skull. But even as the massive fist started forward Bredan finished his spin and thrust forward and upward with all his strength. His father’s sword slid into the giant’s body. Jargo convulsed and let out a bloody cough. The fist that had had so much power behind it just an instant before bounced off the smith’s armored forehead without effect. With a feral growl Bredan drove the sword deeper into his enemy. The half-ogre that had seemed so deadly just heartbeats earlier stumbled back and then crumpled to the floor.</p><p></p><p>On the far side of the room, Quellan and his opponent witnessed the whole exchange. The glow from the <em>guiding bolt</em> had faded, leaving the pair facing off with their normal weapons, but as Jargo slumped to the ground his companion darted back and fled into one of the passages in the back of the cavern. Quellan didn’t bother to try to chase him, but instead turned back to Kosk and stabilized him with his final <em>cure wounds</em> spell.</p><p></p><p>Glori went over to Bredan with a look of concern on her face. “Are you okay?”</p><p></p><p>With an obvious effort Bredan tore his sword from the dead warrior’s body. “Yeah.”</p><p></p><p>“I’m out of healing spells, but I still have my potion…”</p><p></p><p>“Save it. I’m getting my second wind.” He thought of all the times his uncle had forced him to fight through bruises and cuts and strains, and silently thanked him. He rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand, a little surprised not to see any blood. “That spell, with the kobolds… what was that?”</p><p></p><p>“I don’t know… I didn’t know the lyre could do that.”</p><p></p><p>A groan followed by a familiar curse drew their attention back over to the far side of the room. “Kosk!” Glori said. “Is he okay?” she asked Quellan.</p><p></p><p>“I’m fine,” the dwarf said. He was still lying on his back but appeared to be intact and alert. His wound had closed, but he still looked pale. “That big bastard… you got him?”</p><p></p><p>“Yeah, I got him,” Bredan said. “We got him,” he amended with a look toward Glori.</p><p></p><p>“Good,” the dwarf said. Ignoring Quellan’s cautioning hand, he pulled himself to his feet. “Where’s my staff?” he asked.</p><p></p><p>Glori stepped in front of him. “Here,” she said, offering him her potion of healing. “Drink this, you can barely stand.”</p><p></p><p>“I said I was fine.”</p><p></p><p>“And I said you can barely stand. I’m not offering this to be nice. A number of the kobolds got away during the fight, and I saw that guy that stabbed Quellan take off too. If we run into them again, I don’t want you going down if one of them breathes on you too heavily.”</p><p></p><p>The dwarf glared at her, but he accepted the vial.</p><p></p><p>“Speaking of that,” Glori continued, “Quellan, you’d better drink your potion too, if you are out of healing spells.”</p><p></p><p>The cleric blinked, then as if just remembering his wound he glanced down at the bloody trail trickling down his side. A pool of blood had gathered beneath him just in the few moments he’d been helping Kosk. He quickly pressed his hand against his side to staunch the flow of blood. “I used my potion to save Kosk in the shrine, in the fight against the mephit.”</p><p></p><p>“Of course you did,” Bredan said. He stepped forward and produced his vial.</p><p></p><p>“You need that more…” Quellan began, but Bredan quickly interrupted him. “I’m fine,” the smith said, tapping his chest. “Trained warrior. Second wind. Now please drink this before you bleed to death.”</p><p></p><p>After a moment the cleric nodded and accepted the potion. He drained its contents in a single swallow, and let out a sigh of relief as it worked its magic.</p><p></p><p>Thus fortified, the companions turned to an exploration of the cavern.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 7132563, member: 143"] Chapter 41 Jargo’s approach toward his staggered foe was interrupted as an arrow thudded into his coat. But he only spared Glori a desultory glance before returning his focus to Bredan. “When I’m finished with you,” he growled, “I will deal with your woman.” Bredan felt a sudden calm fall over him. His hand tightened on the hilt of his father’s sword. He flashed back to the courtyard behind the smithy, where he and his uncle had spent countless hours practicing with every kind of weapon the elder Karras could either get his hands on or simulate with blocks of wood. This giant was unlike any foe that Bredan had ever faced, but the axe was just another weapon. Time seemed to slow to a crawl and he could see in his mind how the giant would place his foot, how he would shift his weight as he placed his strength behind an unblockable sweep of that deadly edge. Bredan sprang up and swept his sword into the giant’s path. He wasn’t sure if it was the potion or the adrenaline rushing through his body, but the weapon suddenly felt as light as the wooden practice blades he had trained so long with. Jargo met the blade and parried it easily, bringing his axe up to chop the edge into his adversary’s throat as the weight of his sword pulled him inevitably around. But Bredan kept control, continuing his pivot and spinning down into a crouch even as the axe carved the air where he’d been just a moment before. The half-ogre realized his mistake and released the axe to drive his foe back with a punch to the face that likely would have shattered the smith’s nose if not his skull. But even as the massive fist started forward Bredan finished his spin and thrust forward and upward with all his strength. His father’s sword slid into the giant’s body. Jargo convulsed and let out a bloody cough. The fist that had had so much power behind it just an instant before bounced off the smith’s armored forehead without effect. With a feral growl Bredan drove the sword deeper into his enemy. The half-ogre that had seemed so deadly just heartbeats earlier stumbled back and then crumpled to the floor. On the far side of the room, Quellan and his opponent witnessed the whole exchange. The glow from the [i]guiding bolt[/i] had faded, leaving the pair facing off with their normal weapons, but as Jargo slumped to the ground his companion darted back and fled into one of the passages in the back of the cavern. Quellan didn’t bother to try to chase him, but instead turned back to Kosk and stabilized him with his final [i]cure wounds[/i] spell. Glori went over to Bredan with a look of concern on her face. “Are you okay?” With an obvious effort Bredan tore his sword from the dead warrior’s body. “Yeah.” “I’m out of healing spells, but I still have my potion…” “Save it. I’m getting my second wind.” He thought of all the times his uncle had forced him to fight through bruises and cuts and strains, and silently thanked him. He rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand, a little surprised not to see any blood. “That spell, with the kobolds… what was that?” “I don’t know… I didn’t know the lyre could do that.” A groan followed by a familiar curse drew their attention back over to the far side of the room. “Kosk!” Glori said. “Is he okay?” she asked Quellan. “I’m fine,” the dwarf said. He was still lying on his back but appeared to be intact and alert. His wound had closed, but he still looked pale. “That big bastard… you got him?” “Yeah, I got him,” Bredan said. “We got him,” he amended with a look toward Glori. “Good,” the dwarf said. Ignoring Quellan’s cautioning hand, he pulled himself to his feet. “Where’s my staff?” he asked. Glori stepped in front of him. “Here,” she said, offering him her potion of healing. “Drink this, you can barely stand.” “I said I was fine.” “And I said you can barely stand. I’m not offering this to be nice. A number of the kobolds got away during the fight, and I saw that guy that stabbed Quellan take off too. If we run into them again, I don’t want you going down if one of them breathes on you too heavily.” The dwarf glared at her, but he accepted the vial. “Speaking of that,” Glori continued, “Quellan, you’d better drink your potion too, if you are out of healing spells.” The cleric blinked, then as if just remembering his wound he glanced down at the bloody trail trickling down his side. A pool of blood had gathered beneath him just in the few moments he’d been helping Kosk. He quickly pressed his hand against his side to staunch the flow of blood. “I used my potion to save Kosk in the shrine, in the fight against the mephit.” “Of course you did,” Bredan said. He stepped forward and produced his vial. “You need that more…” Quellan began, but Bredan quickly interrupted him. “I’m fine,” the smith said, tapping his chest. “Trained warrior. Second wind. Now please drink this before you bleed to death.” After a moment the cleric nodded and accepted the potion. He drained its contents in a single swallow, and let out a sigh of relief as it worked its magic. Thus fortified, the companions turned to an exploration of the cavern. [/QUOTE]
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