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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Brisk-sg" data-source="post: 1173123" data-attributes="member: 5037">Ambush In The LyrchwoodAMBUSH IN THE LYRCHWOOD LOCATION: the Lyrchwood, county of Harranshire, Western HeartlandsTIME: Afternoon It was the fifth day, and the small band was on the last leg of the journey, a few more hours and they could rest in the village of Milborne before traveling to Thurmaster to deliver the chest for an easy payment.  Bupo soared above the party, only visible when he darted beneath the dense canopy of leaves and branches.  Flight was in the lead, his keen elven eyes peering into the shadows.  He talked lightly with Silvasa concerning the sighting of several wolves earlier that morning.  She didn’t think there was anything to worry about.  Though Flight was certain the wolves did not mean them harm, he was concerned.  Gurog was not far behind, keeping his eyes on the ground in front of him and not saying much.  Calvin had the duty of leading the, at times stubborn, mule. “Someone is up ahead”, Flight said, alerting the others to the presence of three farmers heading toward the party.  Flight began to ease his bow from his back.  “They are only farmers” Silvasa reasoned.  Flight glanced at her and nodded, releasing the end of the bow.   “Hello there” Gurog bellowed as the farmers neared.  Each of the farmers offered a simple smile, with one responding “Hi”.  The farmers offered no other comment as they began to pass. Two arrows flew from the surrounding trees, one embedding itself in Gurog’s chest, the other barely missing Flight.  Flight dropped to his knee drawing his bow in a fluid gesture, turning, he searched for a target. “Ambush!!!” Gurog bellowed, drawing his longsword and shortsword, turning in preparation.  Blood oozed from a wound on his side, the arrow shaft evident.  One of the farmers pointed to the south, “Bandits”.  Gurog glared in that direction, prepared to bring the fight to the bandits.  As he did, the farmer brought a club down upon Gurog’s back while his companions attempted to club Silvasa and Calvin.  Two more arrows flew from the tree line, one scratched Flight’s arm as he narrowly hit the dirt, the other glanced off of Gurog’s armor.  Gurog took a five foot step to reposition himself to prevent one of the ‘farmers’ from harming Silvasa and deal with his own assailant.  His longsword chopped down in an overhand blow toward the ‘farmer’ that was assailing Silvasa, while his shortsword stabbed back toward his attacker.  But luck was not on his side, he had repositioned his foot into a branch, and he stumbled, missing both with his two attacks.  As Bupo launched himself from Silvasa’s arm, she mumbled an arcane word and threw her hand forward, a bright blue orb [magic missile] spun forward, impacting the farmer who assailed her.  He gave a shout and jumped back. Calvin was locked in combat with his assailant.  He swung his quarter staff wide at his opponent, who was able to deflect it.  Neither could manage to land a solid blow. Flight’s keen eyes noticed one of the archers from his vantage point against the road.  He sprung up from the dirt, drawing his bow and letting loose an arrow into the tree line.  A painful shout confirmed his hit. The ‘farmer’ attacking Gurog scored another hit, this time across the head, dropping the half-orc to the ground unconscious, blood oozing from a wound along his head.  Silvasa cast the spell again and another bolt of blew flew forward, slammed into her assailant, dropping him to the ground.  Calvin brought his quarterstaff up into his opponents chin, knocking him flat on his back.  Calvin scanned the battle, his eyes locking onto Gurog’s unconscious body.  He began to move in that direction but found his way blocked by a new assailant, a hefty man who had just emerged from the treeline, armed with a large and wickedly spiked club.  The hefty man’s first blow hit the priest, drawing blood and breaking bone. Flight began to charge into the treeline, intent on defeating the remaining archer.  He leapt through the brush, his eyes locking onto an archer who was in the process of readying an arrow.  Flight let the arrow fly from his bow, but missed his target who narrowly avoided the shot.  The archer dropped his bow and drew a shortsword, closing with Flight.  Silvasa turned her attention to the third ‘farmer’ who still stood, his club stained with Gurog’s blood.  She brought back her staff and lunged forward with all her might, hitting the man across the shoulder.  He grimaced and swung down his bloodstained club, smashing into her side and throwing her to the ground.  The archer’s shortsword stabbed at flight as he charged into him, scoring a blow across Flight’s stomach.  Knowing that he stood little chance in his current condition, Flight narrowly avoided another blow as he dashed into the brush.  After several meters he dropped to his stomach and rolled beneath a rotting log. The archer, attempting to pursue, scanned the ground for tracks while moving forward.  As he passed by a large rotting log, an arrow caught him in the throat and he fell to the ground dead.  Flight took a deep breath, biting back the pain in his side.  His eyes scanned the brush, seeking a new target.  He couldn’t see anyone from his vantage, only ferns and some fresh wolf tracks.  Calvin desperately fended off the hefty man’s powerful blows, but his strength was already giving out under the unrelenting barrage.  After a powerful blow that dropped him to his knee he made a desperate attack with his staff toward his attackers head, delivering a glancing blow.  The hefty man stepped back, his left hand brushing blood from his scalp.  With a roar of rage he lunged forward, driving his vicious club into Calvin’s shoulder.  Calvin fell to the ground, blacking out from pain. Flight rose from behind the log, sighting the hefty man.  The archer he assumed dead lunged upwards, jabbing a knife into Flight’s side.  His bow fell from his hands, the arrow flying wildly as Flight’s knees weakened and gave way.  Silvasa crawled backwards as the ‘farmer’ loomed over her, his arm rearing back to deliver a powerful blow.  The hefty man grabbed his arm, “Remember, we need her alive…” he said.  The ‘farmer’ nodded then brought his club down across the back of her head.  The last thing that Silvasa sensed as the darkness took her was a deep and viscous growl from behind her.</blockquote>

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