Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #219] I'm Batman
Ledare and Ruze moved Finian's stiffened form up the narrow tunnel with little difficulty while Draelond negotiated the paralyzed Den Lant up behind them. The light from the sword in Lant's hand skewed crazily, filling the tunnel with dizzying motion. Ixin stood in the upper chamber, her attention divided between the three egresses that opened onto the chamber. Outside it was still raining.
"Are they alright?" the sorceress asked, looking sickly at the two quarrels that still pierced Finian's body. Ruze looked briefly at the arrows and then nodded.
"They'll live," he said. "But I'll need to do some quick triage."
"Make sure it is quick," Ledare warned. "We should put some distance between us and these caves while we can."
"So you admit that we need to retreat?" Ixin asked, half-surprised that the Janissary finally agreed with her. Ledare snorted derisively at her and scowled.
"We seem ill equipped to continue," the half-elf admitted sardonically. "And we aren't finding out much of anything from these frustrating little trysts."
"I vote we go back and figure out what we are going to do with all these clues we've been accumulating," the Battleguard offered without looking up from Finian's thigh where he had very nearly removed the second arrow. "We have all these clues, but we don't have a battle plan with them." He harrumphed and added, "We don't even have a goal."
"What clues?" Ixin muttered but no one heard to answer and Draelond spoke up before she could ask again.
"I say we all regroup and be sure that everyone gets the medical attention they need," the warrior suggested. "Our mission is not to rid the world of wererats. And we have no idea how many of those things are down there."
"That's a good point, Draelond," Ixin nodded. "Given how wererats reproduce, there could be hundreds or more in these cave. We've got to leave. We can't win."
"On that point you are correct," a strange voice added.
They turned to see a man standing at the mouth of the fissure that led down. He was dressed well in a dark purple cloak that hung loosely about his shoulders. Beneath it he wore studded leather armor. A shortsword hung at his waist. His face was dark and angular and mean. Piercing black eyes smoldered beneath an exceptionally high forehead. He sported long mustaches and a small beard that came to a sharp point beneath his chin. On his chest rested an iron symbol of Aphyx.
The Companions moved hands toward their weapons and he sneered at them. "I would think before you act rashly," he said, his voice not betraying an ounce of fear as he pointed his chin at the cave mouth. Three winged rat men entered from the rain outside. They were unarmed but their bared fangs and clenched fists left little doubt as to their intent. Two more of the creatures appeared behind the man with crossbows levelled at the party. They were dressed in green robes with loose yellow belts from which hung shortswords and quivers.
"You have found our lair," the man said, his appraising gaze moving over the group like a king at a buffet. "We are not yet ready to be found so we cannot permit you to leave." He took a few leisurely steps widdershins about the group as he spoke to them, gesturing with his left hand. His right he kept beneath the folds of his cloak. "And more troubling yet: you have slain five of my children. Plaguebringer Corben will be most displeased when he returns to find our ranks depleted thus."
He stopped and smiled then, his lips pulling back from sharp, crooked teeth. His face took on the aspect of a hungry rat.
"But there are six of you so we can at least recoup our loses," he pointed out. "I'll let you decide who should be food for the others."
Ledare and Ruze moved Finian's stiffened form up the narrow tunnel with little difficulty while Draelond negotiated the paralyzed Den Lant up behind them. The light from the sword in Lant's hand skewed crazily, filling the tunnel with dizzying motion. Ixin stood in the upper chamber, her attention divided between the three egresses that opened onto the chamber. Outside it was still raining.
"Are they alright?" the sorceress asked, looking sickly at the two quarrels that still pierced Finian's body. Ruze looked briefly at the arrows and then nodded.
"They'll live," he said. "But I'll need to do some quick triage."
"Make sure it is quick," Ledare warned. "We should put some distance between us and these caves while we can."
"So you admit that we need to retreat?" Ixin asked, half-surprised that the Janissary finally agreed with her. Ledare snorted derisively at her and scowled.
"We seem ill equipped to continue," the half-elf admitted sardonically. "And we aren't finding out much of anything from these frustrating little trysts."
"I vote we go back and figure out what we are going to do with all these clues we've been accumulating," the Battleguard offered without looking up from Finian's thigh where he had very nearly removed the second arrow. "We have all these clues, but we don't have a battle plan with them." He harrumphed and added, "We don't even have a goal."
"What clues?" Ixin muttered but no one heard to answer and Draelond spoke up before she could ask again.
"I say we all regroup and be sure that everyone gets the medical attention they need," the warrior suggested. "Our mission is not to rid the world of wererats. And we have no idea how many of those things are down there."
"That's a good point, Draelond," Ixin nodded. "Given how wererats reproduce, there could be hundreds or more in these cave. We've got to leave. We can't win."
"On that point you are correct," a strange voice added.
They turned to see a man standing at the mouth of the fissure that led down. He was dressed well in a dark purple cloak that hung loosely about his shoulders. Beneath it he wore studded leather armor. A shortsword hung at his waist. His face was dark and angular and mean. Piercing black eyes smoldered beneath an exceptionally high forehead. He sported long mustaches and a small beard that came to a sharp point beneath his chin. On his chest rested an iron symbol of Aphyx.
The Companions moved hands toward their weapons and he sneered at them. "I would think before you act rashly," he said, his voice not betraying an ounce of fear as he pointed his chin at the cave mouth. Three winged rat men entered from the rain outside. They were unarmed but their bared fangs and clenched fists left little doubt as to their intent. Two more of the creatures appeared behind the man with crossbows levelled at the party. They were dressed in green robes with loose yellow belts from which hung shortswords and quivers.
"You have found our lair," the man said, his appraising gaze moving over the group like a king at a buffet. "We are not yet ready to be found so we cannot permit you to leave." He took a few leisurely steps widdershins about the group as he spoke to them, gesturing with his left hand. His right he kept beneath the folds of his cloak. "And more troubling yet: you have slain five of my children. Plaguebringer Corben will be most displeased when he returns to find our ranks depleted thus."
He stopped and smiled then, his lips pulling back from sharp, crooked teeth. His face took on the aspect of a hungry rat.
"But there are six of you so we can at least recoup our loses," he pointed out. "I'll let you decide who should be food for the others."