Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.
Enchanted Trinkets Complete--a hardcover book containing over 500 magic items for your D&D games!

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 4827718" data-attributes="member: 16069">The Friday Knights in Sellswords of FallcrestPart 13: Dog Gone.Irocar comes again, slashing hard with his bastard sword, catching Cathal momentarily off guard. The blade clangs against the warrior of Kord's armour, saws down leaving a split metal furrow, but doesn't break the skin beneath.The two still standing Dog Brothers take the attack to Astaroth who flailing wildly and inaccurately is forced to retreat. He thumps into Ignaran who almost tumbles back down the stairs, it's close quarters in here.The big man heaves himself forward again, goes to swing with his great axe but instead brings the haft of the weapon quick down into Growl's temple. The Dog Brother's head is broken- split open, blood fountains and boils from the wound- he sags and slumps to his knees, almost spent.Ignaran, recovers quickly, points at the half-fallen Growl- a jagged arc of lightning spits out and wraps itself momentarily around the street thug's head, sparks and salvoes of ragged blue energy fly from his skull. He giggles and groans as he convulses, then flops forward onto the dirty wooden floor, charred and smoking- dead.“Pretty blue light.” Astaroth smirks.That just leaves Irocar and two - scratch that - one Dog Brother. Snarl, his mouth a ragged hole, still spews and staggers in the far corner.Slaver, the third Dog Brother recalculates the odds- he whines a little, but puts up his blade ready to defend.“Surrender and we'll spare your lives.” Cathal states.“Rawf!” Irocar replies and launches another attack- blades meet, sing and spark, no hits- Cathal and Irocar step apart.“We'll give you a biscuit?” Ignaran offers, “a nice biscuit?”“Kord spare us.” Cathal mutters under his breath.Irocar comes again, Slaver at his side- but Cathal and Astaroth are ready- weapons clash, a titanic struggle, but no victor emerges from the clinch. A second spark of lightning suddenly scatters the combatants, and leaves a smoking hole in the brick wall beyond.The four fighters spend a moment, gulp down ragged gasps of air.“Surrender?” Cathal tries again.“RaWF!” This time it's for real.Irocar's launches himself forward, his bastard sword cuts into Cathal's chest, through his armour. He extends his arc and drags his blade across, cuts into Astaroth's bicep leaving a ragged tear. The man-mountain's axe is too slow- Slaver steps aside his guard, at the last moment Astaroth wrenches round the haft of his great axe- blocks Slaver's thrusting blade.   Cathal's slices out with his longsword, but his blow is cut off in its prime as Irocar moves forward into a clinch. The two tussle and dance, their heavy armour clashing and crashing.At the rear Ignaran looks for an opportunity, raw power fizzes around his blue-lightning fist.Irocar and Cathal's dance goes on, love taps here and there- the butt of Cathal's longsword breaks a rib, the tip of Irocar's bastard sword scores a red-line along Cathal's thigh. The pair are locked in a deathly embrace- eventually Cathal struggles free, back-peddling furiously, again Ignaran has to take evasive action, his flailing fist shoots a bolt of lightning into the timbered floor leaving yet another smoking hole.Irocar is fast, and strong still; the hilt of his blade spins in his hands, it's pointing down- his arms extend fully, full arc, clasped together around the hilt tight of his sword- high above his head. He slices down, with all his might.The bastard sword digs deep, Cathal's thigh is a bloody mess. Six inches of the blade protrudes through the other side- a pool of thick red blood quickly forms, the gasping warrior of Kord his face set in rictus spasm- he wails.“Koooooooooord!”But it's not over yet. Irocar draws the sword out, as slowly as he can- given the circumstances- accompanied by blood wet ragged gasps from Cathal, the saw edge blade widens the wound ripping through the flesh.A moment.A gaping hole in Cathal's thigh- he's done for, the blood pool on the dirty floor expands.“Rawf” Irocar declares, grins and pants a little, motions with his head to the growing lake of blood and makes lip-smacking lapping sounds.THUMPCathal falls hard to his knees, head bowed, as if in prayer.Suddenly the room seems a lot less packed, there's space for...WHUMPAstaroth's greataxe describes a terrifyingly broad arc, mere inches from both walls- full extension- full force- it bites into Irocar's side- smashes ribs- sends splinters of bone like shrapnel into odd-shaped organs, the pack leader is sent spinning back.THUMPInto the ladder to the loft, all the air gone from him, mostly escaping though flapping cords of tendon, sinew and muscle exposed by Astaroth's axe- one lung deflates.Irocar wheezes bloody gulps- the end of his tongue flops onto the floor- where he's bitten through it.“Whof!” He feebly half-barks.THUMPThen collapses.Cathal teeters on the brink of black, Ignaran is quickly to him, bandages and salves ripped from his pack. The last of the Dog Brothers, Slaver, momentarily ignored in the sudden flurry of activity.Astaroth turns his attention to Slaver, I said momentarily.“WOOF!” The man-mountain adds.Thump.Slaver spins his blade out of his hands, like it's suddenly much too hot for him to handle.“Call it a draw?” Slaver offers and then, off Astaroth's stare, whines a little.</blockquote>

Verification