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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Jon Potter" data-source="post: 2399617" data-attributes="member: 2323">[PLAIN][Realms #313] Southward, Ho!, part 8[/PLAIN]Morier gave ground, forcing the three warriors to adjust their stances in order to maintain their flank. They were well-disciplined, however, and moved fluidly back into position, leading with the bastard sword so that he was forced to parry. He caught the first heavy blade on his greatsword's ricasso, and forced the blow aside through sheer brute strength, causing the man's follow-up dagger thrust to go wide.He could do nothing about the second man, however and felt the bastard sword slam down on his shoulder. The magic of the leather armor kept him from a killing blow, but there was still enough force behind the blade to deaden his arm all the way to his fingertips. He twisted away, his arm hanging limply at his side, and avoided by luck alone the worst of a dagger thrust aimed for his guts.Morier shrieked mindlessly and flailed his greatsword at his assailants just as the third of them lunged forward to finish him off. Three feet of alchemically-silvered greatsword sprouted suddenly from the man's back and it was unclear who was more surprised, he or Morier. The eldritch warrior reacted quickly to this unexpected turn of events and twisted his sword to interpose the dying man between himself and the other swordsmen giving himself a moment's breathing room to withdraw from the melee.He didn't get it, however as the first human sidestepped Morier's feint and brought his own sword up. Feeling was returning to the albino's arm, but not enough for him to parry the incoming blade. He steeled himself for the inevitable...But aid came from an unexpected quarter. Wolf appeared suddenly behind the eldritch warrior and leapt at his enemies. The wolf dragged one of the men to the ground, its jaws clamped down tightly on his neck. The man made a high-pitched gargling sound as Wolf thrashed his head from side to side, savaging the warrior's throat. The last standing fighter ignored Morier in favor of trying to save his companion. He sank his bastard sword into Wolf's side, causing the animal to yelp in agony and release the downed man.Clinging to life by a thread, Morier took the opportunity to withdraw, leaving Wolf to its fate.Naaris Fangart stabbed the gray wolf again, stilling it. He paused long enough to nudge Omuull with his boot, but he was clearly dead. Naaris had trained with the man for years as they both sought to master fighting in the Crescent Moon style. Competition between the two had fueled them both to succeed, and while neither was yet a master of the style, they had each been within a maneuver or two of that feat. Omuull clearly would never attain their shared goal."Weak!" Naaris grunted, spitting on the fallen man's upturned face before heading off in pursuit of the albino elf. It was pretty easy to follow the trail of blood around to the rear of the building and on around the far corner. There he stopped. The dwarf was there, healing the elf with a wand. He held a warhammer in his other hand and looked ready to use it. 'Two-on-one' were odds that Naaris liked only when he was part of the two. He back-peddled, retreating around the building with the goal of returning to the manor and alerting his superiors there.Naaris never saw Feln's knife-hand strike before the blow crushed the man's windpipe and mangled his cervical vertebrae, killing him instantly.Sir Brin struggled determinedly through the Entangle spell, heading for the nearest patch of open ground, which unfortunately for him, was over thirty feet away. He pressed on, focused on his goal. Behind him he could hear his lieutenant, Kourd, grunting with effort as he followed in his master's footsteps."Yoo hoo!" a high-pitched voice chirped overhead and Sir Brin looked up in time to receive a pinch of Confusion dust in his face. Spitting and cursing, he dragged a hand across his face to free himself of the glittering powder. He was a Defiler - as far as he knew, he was the highest-ranking member of his order to walk Oerune in centuries. Before that, he had enjoyed the dark blessings of the Blackguard. And long, long ago, before he fell, he had been a Paladin in the service of Sato. He was now favored amongst his dark goddess' followers, an unholy warrior without peer!And still, he succumbed to Lela's faerie dust.Kourd cried out in shock and pain as the confused Sir Brin whirled and drove a foot of Corrupted steel into the man's gut. The betrayal brought immense pain but it wasn't enough to kill him outright. He was quick to adjust to his plight, however, and raised his bastard sword against his former ally."How are ye feeling, White One?" Karak asked after he tapped the albino with his healing stick again. Morier nodded."I'll live," he replied, his attention riveted on the battle going on between the two armored men still stuck in the Entangle spell. Karak harrumphed and stuck the wand back into his belt."Aye, then. That be all the more we're needin' at the moment," he told the elf. "We're all done 'ere, methinks, but for a bit o' clean up." Indeed, the rest of the VQS were all making their way around the far side of the Entangle, their foes all vanquished apart from Brin and Kourd. Karak hefted his warhammer and glowered at the two warriors. "I'll be right back," he growled as he started forward.Sir Brin spent a moment staring blankly even after Kourd had fallen beneath his blade. He was unable to shake the effects of Lela's Confusion, and it was his own pain that finally brought him around. He was bleeding from a half-dozen wounds - one or two of them serious, and he was obliged to use his profane power to heal himself despite the fact that he saw the dwarf returning with murderous intent."Back for more, eh, dwarf?" Sir Brin taunted. "Vell come on, zen! My sword has almost forgotten ze taste of your blood!" Karak paused just out of the unholy warrior's reach and Sir Brin grinned at him."Have you lost your nerve, doggie?" Sir Brin laughed. "Lay down your veapons and I still might let you live!" The laughter died in the blackguard's throat as Karak called on the divine guidance of his goddess to make his blow Strike True."Shaharizod, grant me yer guiding hand," he implored before hefting his warhammer in a two-handed grip and smiting Sir Brin with all the strength that his compact frame could muster. His warhammer struck the unholy warrior on the chin, driving his head back and crushing his jaw in an explosion of blood and teeth. The man's helmet flew clear of his head, tumbling end over end through the air and careening off the roof of the building behind him, before it landed ultimately near the fallen body of Kourd. Sir Brin's nearly headless body teetered unsteadily on rapidly-folding legs before toppling backwards and succumbing to the clutch of the Entangle.</blockquote>

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