[The Way of Autumn]
"Thanks, kid," Adir nods to Lapis, taking the first step on the path ahead. Soon they're at the hanging tree. Adir is sure he'd rather be anywhere else. He grimaces and, steeling himself, steps up to the towering thing.
"Assuming we can trust what they said," Adir thinks aloud, though his instincts tell them that they can. "Let's see..."
Adir will try tugging one of the nooses. In his mind, he has a funny image of the noose extending from the tree, more slack spontaneously appearing as it's pulled along. Should that fail to happen, though, he will indeed just take a knife and try to cut one of the nooses free.
The Dreamlands
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Way of Autumn]
It turns out Adir's intuition is exactly right. He takes hold of one of the ropes tied to a less objectionable object and begins to walk, the rope somehow lengthening behind him. Lapis is quick to do the same, keeping her eyes glued forward.
"Remember they said not to look back," Lapis warns as she begins walking.
The fae didn't make clear what would happen if they DID look back. Could be something frustrating. Or something hampering. Or something downright dangerous. It's hard to guess when it comes to traversing a dream. There's an odd sort of logic this place operates by, but it's nothing like the waking world to be sure. Actions that would be madness elsewhere make perfect sense here.
It turns out Adir's intuition is exactly right. He takes hold of one of the ropes tied to a less objectionable object and begins to walk, the rope somehow lengthening behind him. Lapis is quick to do the same, keeping her eyes glued forward.
"Remember they said not to look back," Lapis warns as she begins walking.
The fae didn't make clear what would happen if they DID look back. Could be something frustrating. Or something hampering. Or something downright dangerous. It's hard to guess when it comes to traversing a dream. There's an odd sort of logic this place operates by, but it's nothing like the waking world to be sure. Actions that would be madness elsewhere make perfect sense here.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Way of Autumn]
Not looking back shouldn't be difficult, especially for someone who stays alert even without turning and looking around. But it's always strangely difficult not to do something you were specifically told not to do. Still, he points his eyes straight ahead, taking the rope just like his two companions.
Not looking back shouldn't be difficult, especially for someone who stays alert even without turning and looking around. But it's always strangely difficult not to do something you were specifically told not to do. Still, he points his eyes straight ahead, taking the rope just like his two companions.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Way of Autumn]
It's an especially hard temptation for Adir to resist. His head is always on a swivel in situations like this, and resisting the instinctual urge to cast his eyes around becomes increasingly frustrating. Even so. He clamps down on the urge and hunches his shoulders to bull his way through it. "Stay close, you two," the stag says, trying to keep them in his peripheral.
It's an especially hard temptation for Adir to resist. His head is always on a swivel in situations like this, and resisting the instinctual urge to cast his eyes around becomes increasingly frustrating. Even so. He clamps down on the urge and hunches his shoulders to bull his way through it. "Stay close, you two," the stag says, trying to keep them in his peripheral.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Way of Autumn => The Warrens]
Forward.
Head down.
Into the dark.
As our heroes descend the world around them flows and shifts like paint on a canvas, transitioning from a dark and foreboding forest to a cave. But not the sort of cave a spelunker might enjoy. The sort of cave that's lived in. Full of bones. Of old fires. Of soot and ash. Of dark shapes and dark things and dark thoughts painted on the walls. Figures flicker. Movement out of the corner of the eye. A stone, falling, and striking against stone. The sound echoing in the deeps.
Forever.
Chasms yawn on all sides.
The world itself seems to tug.
That compulsion to gaze over the edge and jump.
"We're moving down into the Bottomless Pit," Lapis warns. "It's a place dead things go to be forgotten. The hag's home is probably here somewhere."
It really isn't a cheerful place.
"This place tries to eat heroes."
That's a pretty horrible warning.
Lapis raises her free hand and LIGHT shines from it, soft and subtle. The oppressive gloom that pushes in on all sides shrinks back, the hopelessness that gnaws at one's resolve hissing like a wounded beast, the intrusive and self destructive thoughts needling the mind suddenly casting long shadows to mark them as alien and other.
Forward.
Head down.
Into the dark.
As our heroes descend the world around them flows and shifts like paint on a canvas, transitioning from a dark and foreboding forest to a cave. But not the sort of cave a spelunker might enjoy. The sort of cave that's lived in. Full of bones. Of old fires. Of soot and ash. Of dark shapes and dark things and dark thoughts painted on the walls. Figures flicker. Movement out of the corner of the eye. A stone, falling, and striking against stone. The sound echoing in the deeps.
Forever.
Chasms yawn on all sides.
The world itself seems to tug.
That compulsion to gaze over the edge and jump.
"We're moving down into the Bottomless Pit," Lapis warns. "It's a place dead things go to be forgotten. The hag's home is probably here somewhere."
It really isn't a cheerful place.
"This place tries to eat heroes."
That's a pretty horrible warning.
Lapis raises her free hand and LIGHT shines from it, soft and subtle. The oppressive gloom that pushes in on all sides shrinks back, the hopelessness that gnaws at one's resolve hissing like a wounded beast, the intrusive and self destructive thoughts needling the mind suddenly casting long shadows to mark them as alien and other.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
"Then let's show it we're more than it can chew." Bravado in the face of all-encompassing darkness is a very predictable reaction on Wenomir's part. As is his laser-like focus on the mission. He does seem to close his eyes often, preferring the darkness of his own eyelids to the hungry void outside. "But how do we find her? We could wander around here in the dark forever."
"Then let's show it we're more than it can chew." Bravado in the face of all-encompassing darkness is a very predictable reaction on Wenomir's part. As is his laser-like focus on the mission. He does seem to close his eyes often, preferring the darkness of his own eyelids to the hungry void outside. "But how do we find her? We could wander around here in the dark forever."
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
Adir's breath emerges as a silvery mist, and it's not coming from the change in the ambient temperature. He glances around and down into the eternal shadows with a confidence that leaves little doubt as to the keenness of his night vision. Deer are possessed of excellent night sight, generally speaking.
Usually for spotting predators.
He was expecting to have heard pursuers by now, per the prophecy of the festive fauns, but he doesn't mention it for fear of summoning them up. Instead he'll edge toward one of the chasms and squint down into that beckoning darkness. "I've never thought of myself as much of a hero anyways," says the stag, without feeling. He closes his eyes. He smells the air. The stench of the place. In the roiling imbroglio of differing and pungent scent trails, the stag searches for sign of Roga. He had her scent once; hell, they stood close enough to share breath. If she's been here, he may well be able to track her again.
Adir's breath emerges as a silvery mist, and it's not coming from the change in the ambient temperature. He glances around and down into the eternal shadows with a confidence that leaves little doubt as to the keenness of his night vision. Deer are possessed of excellent night sight, generally speaking.
Usually for spotting predators.
He was expecting to have heard pursuers by now, per the prophecy of the festive fauns, but he doesn't mention it for fear of summoning them up. Instead he'll edge toward one of the chasms and squint down into that beckoning darkness. "I've never thought of myself as much of a hero anyways," says the stag, without feeling. He closes his eyes. He smells the air. The stench of the place. In the roiling imbroglio of differing and pungent scent trails, the stag searches for sign of Roga. He had her scent once; hell, they stood close enough to share breath. If she's been here, he may well be able to track her again.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
Looking over the edge of the precipice Adir will see that the bottom of that vast gulf is full of Nothing.
Gazing at Nothing is very unpleasant and he might decide quickly to stop.
As for the scent?
Death.
This place smells like death.
But not the death of a fresh kill. Of warmth and blood and slowly cooling meat.
This is old death. Dryness and dust. A forgotten sepulcher that might have once held the bones of kings and lords and warriors of old, but who's names and deeds have turned to ashes as the aeons creep forward.
A crypt.
A tomb.
There's something else, too. A whiff of bone broth. Of boiling nightshade. Of gingerbread. And... chickens?
That's unmistakable.
"We'll find the way or the way will find us," Lapis insists, hand still extended and light streaming from it.
Adir will be able to follow the smell he picked up without too much trouble. Over bones and stones and pools of dust that flow like water down the edge of the stone shelves and tumbling off into the fathomless abyss. Soon the path splits in three tunnels (because of course it does) that stand before our heroes. The scent of the hag is strongest in the one to the left, though the other two aren't without it. She seems to frequent this place.
The path to the right is heavy with dust, dripping from the ceiling like water from a cave. Deep down, as though far away, our heroes can scarcely make out the sound of someone calling for help.
The middle path is painted with primitive depictions of ancient things. Of animals. Of beasts. Of men. Of gods. A single ginger bread man is laying on the cave floor here, face down and forgotten.
The path to the left is full of chicken bones. Hundreds, thousands, millions of them. The floor of the tunnel is completely obscured.
Also?
Huddled in front of the trio of tunnels is a group of... beings. Naked, pitiful things. Worn away. They aren't without faces or features, not as such. But they have no distinguishing characteristics. It's impossible to tell one apart from another. Like the vague idea of a person. Like a formless crowd in a dream. They immediately perk up as our heroes approach, but seem leery of getting closer on account of Lapis' lamp.
"Living."
"They're living."
"So cold..."
"Where am I?"
"Blood they have blood."
"Give it to us give us blood."
Looking over the edge of the precipice Adir will see that the bottom of that vast gulf is full of Nothing.
Gazing at Nothing is very unpleasant and he might decide quickly to stop.
As for the scent?
Death.
This place smells like death.
But not the death of a fresh kill. Of warmth and blood and slowly cooling meat.
This is old death. Dryness and dust. A forgotten sepulcher that might have once held the bones of kings and lords and warriors of old, but who's names and deeds have turned to ashes as the aeons creep forward.
A crypt.
A tomb.
There's something else, too. A whiff of bone broth. Of boiling nightshade. Of gingerbread. And... chickens?
That's unmistakable.
"We'll find the way or the way will find us," Lapis insists, hand still extended and light streaming from it.
Adir will be able to follow the smell he picked up without too much trouble. Over bones and stones and pools of dust that flow like water down the edge of the stone shelves and tumbling off into the fathomless abyss. Soon the path splits in three tunnels (because of course it does) that stand before our heroes. The scent of the hag is strongest in the one to the left, though the other two aren't without it. She seems to frequent this place.
The path to the right is heavy with dust, dripping from the ceiling like water from a cave. Deep down, as though far away, our heroes can scarcely make out the sound of someone calling for help.
The middle path is painted with primitive depictions of ancient things. Of animals. Of beasts. Of men. Of gods. A single ginger bread man is laying on the cave floor here, face down and forgotten.
The path to the left is full of chicken bones. Hundreds, thousands, millions of them. The floor of the tunnel is completely obscured.
Also?
Huddled in front of the trio of tunnels is a group of... beings. Naked, pitiful things. Worn away. They aren't without faces or features, not as such. But they have no distinguishing characteristics. It's impossible to tell one apart from another. Like the vague idea of a person. Like a formless crowd in a dream. They immediately perk up as our heroes approach, but seem leery of getting closer on account of Lapis' lamp.
"Living."
"They're living."
"So cold..."
"Where am I?"
"Blood they have blood."
"Give it to us give us blood."
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
Wenomir grasps is axe more firmly but doesn't raise it yet. What are these wretched creatures?
"Let us take the middle path and not slow down. This place will try to obstruct us."
Wenomir grasps is axe more firmly but doesn't raise it yet. What are these wretched creatures?
"Let us take the middle path and not slow down. This place will try to obstruct us."
Re: The Dreamlands
Adir closes his eyes and shakes his head, but the fathomless black clings to the inside of his eyelids. Not the pale imitation of darkness you get when you close your eyes, either, where ambient light still filters calmly through. Full dark.
He'll lead the party on, and pause just as warily when they spot the creatures. He scowls hard. "Her scent's strongest this way," The stag reports, gesturing down the chicken-bone path, but that way looks nearly impossible to traverse. What's more, if they're caught in a fight there, maneuvering will be dangerous bordering on impossible. No use arguing in a tactical situation. He'll try to edge around the shades, giving them as wide a berth as he can, weapon trained on the not-creatures.
He's passing near the right hand path in this way, moving for the middle, when he hears that person calling out. A trick, surely. It has to be. But the question becomes: What if it isn't?
Adir's ears turn and scan like radar dishes. His eyes flick from the creatures to the way down the right-hand tunnel.
What if it isn't?
He knows that Lapis is very mature - kind of - and that she understands some things she shouldn't. But this isn't the kind of decision he can expect her to make, Adir thinks. Unless she chimes in confirming definitely that the voice is a fake, Adir will look to Wenomir. Meeting his eyes.
"We have to check."
He'll lead the party on, and pause just as warily when they spot the creatures. He scowls hard. "Her scent's strongest this way," The stag reports, gesturing down the chicken-bone path, but that way looks nearly impossible to traverse. What's more, if they're caught in a fight there, maneuvering will be dangerous bordering on impossible. No use arguing in a tactical situation. He'll try to edge around the shades, giving them as wide a berth as he can, weapon trained on the not-creatures.
He's passing near the right hand path in this way, moving for the middle, when he hears that person calling out. A trick, surely. It has to be. But the question becomes: What if it isn't?
Adir's ears turn and scan like radar dishes. His eyes flick from the creatures to the way down the right-hand tunnel.
What if it isn't?
He knows that Lapis is very mature - kind of - and that she understands some things she shouldn't. But this isn't the kind of decision he can expect her to make, Adir thinks. Unless she chimes in confirming definitely that the voice is a fake, Adir will look to Wenomir. Meeting his eyes.
"We have to check."
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
Lapis likewise edges away from the shades, but as the light from her hand reaches them their behavior changes drastically.
They start screaming.
"Hate it!"
"I hate you!"
"HATE HATE GET AWAY!"
They're making quite the ruckus, but they seem to recoil from the reach of the light as if it burns them. Considering the way they're smoking a bit it probably does. Where the light falls on them they appear somehow... less. Like they're a mere figment, a passing imagining, rather than any actual physical thing.
Lapis mostly just looks sad.
When Adir speaks up Lapis glances between him and the tunnel to the right where the distant, muffled calls for help are coming from. She strains her hearing as best she can. And other senses besides. "...I don't think it's a lie?" she says, but she sounds uncertain. Fae are tricky. And she knows their lies can fool her kind as easily as they can fool mortals.
Should our heroes decide to set out toward the distant pleas for help they'll find themselves traveling down drab gray cavern with walls that look and feel like melted wax. Dust drips from the ceiling like water and flows in pools and rivulets along the floor like a river. It irritates the nose and eyes. And it feels old.
Ancient.
Dead.
A forgotten, oppressive sort of stuffiness.
Here and there vaguely organic shapes protrude from the walls or ceiling, shedding a pale green light that casts the cavern in ghostly hues and and shadows that seem to dance and mock when viewed out of the corner of the eye.
Over the dust and ashes Adir will be able to pick out the scent of the hag down here in this forgotten hole. And something else, too. Three somethings. And a fourth something crying for help.
At the bottom of the world our heroes find an island sitting in the midst of a lake of dust. Three hulking, misshapen figures looming around a cage built of bones and sinews. Goblins. Ogres? Easily twice the height of a man, each recognizably human but deformed and monstrous in their own uniquely horrible way.
In the cage is a child calling out for help, his voice horse and ragged from screaming.
"So whats we gunna do wit dis one, den?" the first of the ogres asks. "You think we oughta just eat 'em?"
"The brat won't stop his squealing. We should just sit on 'em until he's squashed 'n make some mash," the second ogre suggests.
"Oi but he's a canny one, he is," the third ogre rumbles, stroking his oily beard. "Ain't cut no deals with the Pit yet. Maybe one of dem fancy elfs from Magh Mell would buy 'em? I hear they like havin' a real child fer their fancy parties."
Lapis likewise edges away from the shades, but as the light from her hand reaches them their behavior changes drastically.
They start screaming.
"Hate it!"
"I hate you!"
"HATE HATE GET AWAY!"
They're making quite the ruckus, but they seem to recoil from the reach of the light as if it burns them. Considering the way they're smoking a bit it probably does. Where the light falls on them they appear somehow... less. Like they're a mere figment, a passing imagining, rather than any actual physical thing.
Lapis mostly just looks sad.
When Adir speaks up Lapis glances between him and the tunnel to the right where the distant, muffled calls for help are coming from. She strains her hearing as best she can. And other senses besides. "...I don't think it's a lie?" she says, but she sounds uncertain. Fae are tricky. And she knows their lies can fool her kind as easily as they can fool mortals.
Should our heroes decide to set out toward the distant pleas for help they'll find themselves traveling down drab gray cavern with walls that look and feel like melted wax. Dust drips from the ceiling like water and flows in pools and rivulets along the floor like a river. It irritates the nose and eyes. And it feels old.
Ancient.
Dead.
A forgotten, oppressive sort of stuffiness.
Here and there vaguely organic shapes protrude from the walls or ceiling, shedding a pale green light that casts the cavern in ghostly hues and and shadows that seem to dance and mock when viewed out of the corner of the eye.
Over the dust and ashes Adir will be able to pick out the scent of the hag down here in this forgotten hole. And something else, too. Three somethings. And a fourth something crying for help.
At the bottom of the world our heroes find an island sitting in the midst of a lake of dust. Three hulking, misshapen figures looming around a cage built of bones and sinews. Goblins. Ogres? Easily twice the height of a man, each recognizably human but deformed and monstrous in their own uniquely horrible way.
In the cage is a child calling out for help, his voice horse and ragged from screaming.
"So whats we gunna do wit dis one, den?" the first of the ogres asks. "You think we oughta just eat 'em?"
"The brat won't stop his squealing. We should just sit on 'em until he's squashed 'n make some mash," the second ogre suggests.
"Oi but he's a canny one, he is," the third ogre rumbles, stroking his oily beard. "Ain't cut no deals with the Pit yet. Maybe one of dem fancy elfs from Magh Mell would buy 'em? I hear they like havin' a real child fer their fancy parties."
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
"Oh, I have a suggestion." In this desolate, forgotten place, Wenomir hangs onto what he knows, and that he's not about to let some brutes hurt a child. "You can open this cage, let the kid go and then run away as fast as you can."
"Oh, I have a suggestion." In this desolate, forgotten place, Wenomir hangs onto what he knows, and that he's not about to let some brutes hurt a child. "You can open this cage, let the kid go and then run away as fast as you can."
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
Adir doesn't bother with parley at this point. Were Wenomir and Lapis not here, he'd deal with these creatures the same as he did those beings on the road who initially took Cassie. Both out of a natural-feeling inclination to rid the worlds of such beings, a frigid practicality, and out of a healthy concern for his own safety. Letting them talk invites danger. Best to strike the enemy with all force before you're expected.
The stag stays back from Lapis and Wenomir this time, trying to crouch as low as he can and scuttle to one side in search of the best possible firing angle. One that won't include either of his melee-inclined companions or the child in the cage.
If, indeed, it is a child. Adir's canny enough to know that it could still be a trick. Hell, this whole scene could be.
Adir doesn't bother with parley at this point. Were Wenomir and Lapis not here, he'd deal with these creatures the same as he did those beings on the road who initially took Cassie. Both out of a natural-feeling inclination to rid the worlds of such beings, a frigid practicality, and out of a healthy concern for his own safety. Letting them talk invites danger. Best to strike the enemy with all force before you're expected.
The stag stays back from Lapis and Wenomir this time, trying to crouch as low as he can and scuttle to one side in search of the best possible firing angle. One that won't include either of his melee-inclined companions or the child in the cage.
If, indeed, it is a child. Adir's canny enough to know that it could still be a trick. Hell, this whole scene could be.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
This is definitely not the most subtle approach to this problem.
But then again, our heroes aren't very subtle are they?
"Oi now who'n the hell'r you lot then?" one of the ogres bellows, standing up and looking quite intimidating. Or at least intimidating if he weren't trying to intimidate one of the most dangerous living swordsman in the Nexus.
It doesn't look like they're going to open the cage.
But they ARE all paying attention to Wenomir and Lapis.
Which means Adir can find a nice vantage point to catch the ogres unawares when the violence inevitably begins. Two of the monsters are moving toward Lapis and Wenomir while the third is hanging back. "You two stand where you are. We got sometin to show yah, heheh."
This also means Adir has a better view of the kid in the cage. Maybe... twelve? Eleven? All grubby and smudged up with red hair and startlingly blue eyes. He's got some dirty clothing on, the sort one might expect people from the smaller, less technologically capable villages that dot Outside. Some farmer's boy, maybe.
This is definitely not the most subtle approach to this problem.
But then again, our heroes aren't very subtle are they?
"Oi now who'n the hell'r you lot then?" one of the ogres bellows, standing up and looking quite intimidating. Or at least intimidating if he weren't trying to intimidate one of the most dangerous living swordsman in the Nexus.
It doesn't look like they're going to open the cage.
But they ARE all paying attention to Wenomir and Lapis.
Which means Adir can find a nice vantage point to catch the ogres unawares when the violence inevitably begins. Two of the monsters are moving toward Lapis and Wenomir while the third is hanging back. "You two stand where you are. We got sometin to show yah, heheh."
This also means Adir has a better view of the kid in the cage. Maybe... twelve? Eleven? All grubby and smudged up with red hair and startlingly blue eyes. He's got some dirty clothing on, the sort one might expect people from the smaller, less technologically capable villages that dot Outside. Some farmer's boy, maybe.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
"I will be showing you your own entrails if you don't open this cage." Wenomir steps forward and twirls his axe in a threatening flourish. He recognizes what Adir is doing and is going to keep the monsters' attention on himself.
"I will be showing you your own entrails if you don't open this cage." Wenomir steps forward and twirls his axe in a threatening flourish. He recognizes what Adir is doing and is going to keep the monsters' attention on himself.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
Adir sees a chance to end this before it begins. But will the creatures be smart enough to play along?
He crouches, and reaching for Winter's power, he performs another one of those dazzling leaps. If he can, he'll soar in a high arc that lands him next to the little boy's cage. He positions himself between the hanging-back ogre and the child. Unfortunately he doesn't land soundlessly, so he probably doesn't have time to try and set the kid free.
Instead, he flips his two short blades from their sheathes and leans up to place their points against the third ogre's back. Assuming he was quick and deft enough, of course. He'd be using a gun for threats instead, but he couldn't be sure this being would understand the threat of one.
"Tell your friends to drop anything they've got and scuttle off, or I'll feed this place your corpse," Adir will snarl up at the remaining creature.
Adir sees a chance to end this before it begins. But will the creatures be smart enough to play along?
He crouches, and reaching for Winter's power, he performs another one of those dazzling leaps. If he can, he'll soar in a high arc that lands him next to the little boy's cage. He positions himself between the hanging-back ogre and the child. Unfortunately he doesn't land soundlessly, so he probably doesn't have time to try and set the kid free.
Instead, he flips his two short blades from their sheathes and leans up to place their points against the third ogre's back. Assuming he was quick and deft enough, of course. He'd be using a gun for threats instead, but he couldn't be sure this being would understand the threat of one.
"Tell your friends to drop anything they've got and scuttle off, or I'll feed this place your corpse," Adir will snarl up at the remaining creature.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
At Wenomir's threat one of the hulking goblins smiles a rather nasty sort, the kind all fun of malice and spite without a hint of genuine kindness.
A venomous smile.
Then he hurls his hammer at the warrior-
-moments before Adir lands behind the brute with naked steel at his back.
Adir's plan would be a good one. If there was anything resembling comradery among goblins. Instead one of the other monsters heaves a rancid laugh and shoves his fellow to send the brute toppling over backwards.
Potentially right on top of Adir.
Lapis' sword clears her scabbard with a crackle of power as she focuses her intent to aid upon Adir, a shell of crackling energy forming around him full of carefully contained violence. That should blunt any harm directed at him while lashing out at hostile creatures nearby with streamers of lightning.
The final of the three hulking goblins draws forth a most terrible weapon. A huge circular saw for carving through stones set at the end of a haft like the head of some misbegotten axe. The weapon roars to life, belching a think cloud of black smog.
Wenomir may have to slay this fiend on principle alone for brandishing such an abomination of a weapon
At Wenomir's threat one of the hulking goblins smiles a rather nasty sort, the kind all fun of malice and spite without a hint of genuine kindness.
A venomous smile.
Then he hurls his hammer at the warrior-
-moments before Adir lands behind the brute with naked steel at his back.
Adir's plan would be a good one. If there was anything resembling comradery among goblins. Instead one of the other monsters heaves a rancid laugh and shoves his fellow to send the brute toppling over backwards.
Potentially right on top of Adir.
Lapis' sword clears her scabbard with a crackle of power as she focuses her intent to aid upon Adir, a shell of crackling energy forming around him full of carefully contained violence. That should blunt any harm directed at him while lashing out at hostile creatures nearby with streamers of lightning.
The final of the three hulking goblins draws forth a most terrible weapon. A huge circular saw for carving through stones set at the end of a haft like the head of some misbegotten axe. The weapon roars to life, belching a think cloud of black smog.
Wenomir may have to slay this fiend on principle alone for brandishing such an abomination of a weapon
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
Wenomir does focus on the goblin wielding the horrific weapon, but to his credit it's not because of that. He's simply the most convenient target right now. The warrior rushes forward, leaps and lands feet-first on the monster's forehead, pushing himself away and trying to stagger him with the impact. Should he accomplish it, he descends on the goblin once more, this time trying to bury his axe in his hopefully exposed forehead.
Wenomir does focus on the goblin wielding the horrific weapon, but to his credit it's not because of that. He's simply the most convenient target right now. The warrior rushes forward, leaps and lands feet-first on the monster's forehead, pushing himself away and trying to stagger him with the impact. Should he accomplish it, he descends on the goblin once more, this time trying to bury his axe in his hopefully exposed forehead.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
Adir topples under the rearmost ogre with a startled cry, but Lapis keeps the creature's weight from doing him any harm. Presumably full body contact with that field likely produces some nasty results as well. Unless the ogre tries to stop him, Adir will shove the huge beasty off with a surge of his preturnatural strength, rolling away from the sudden blaze of violence. He flips one of his short blades and hurls it like a knife, aiming for the throat of the foremost ogre - the one that tossed that hammer.
Adir topples under the rearmost ogre with a startled cry, but Lapis keeps the creature's weight from doing him any harm. Presumably full body contact with that field likely produces some nasty results as well. Unless the ogre tries to stop him, Adir will shove the huge beasty off with a surge of his preturnatural strength, rolling away from the sudden blaze of violence. He flips one of his short blades and hurls it like a knife, aiming for the throat of the foremost ogre - the one that tossed that hammer.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
Adir surmises correctly. The ogre pratfalling into the barrier doesn't have a great time. As Adir rolls away Lapis hauls back as her sword flashes into a javelin of pure lightning shortly before she hurls it at the still off balance ogre. The projectile explodes in a writhing mess of raw energy that rakes across the other two ogres.
Adir's knife throw strikes true, burying itself in the stunned ogre's neck with great violence.
Only for him to snarl and yank it out, drawing another claw hammer and aiming to strike Adir with it. Seems these oafs are as resistant as they look. But trying to smash through Lapis' barrier probably isn't the wisest plan.
Wenomir's opponent is about to try cleaving the warrior out of the air when a stream of lightning bites into him, causing his muscles to seize up right as Wenomir vaults off his head. And then brains the ogre with his axe. Impossibly this fails to kill the horror and he reacts by trying to swat Wenomir to the ground with the haft of his weapon and then follow up with a brutal overhead chop.
The final ogre pulls a filthy, jagged harpoon from somewhere best left unmentioned and hurls it straight toward Lapis.
Adir surmises correctly. The ogre pratfalling into the barrier doesn't have a great time. As Adir rolls away Lapis hauls back as her sword flashes into a javelin of pure lightning shortly before she hurls it at the still off balance ogre. The projectile explodes in a writhing mess of raw energy that rakes across the other two ogres.
Adir's knife throw strikes true, burying itself in the stunned ogre's neck with great violence.
Only for him to snarl and yank it out, drawing another claw hammer and aiming to strike Adir with it. Seems these oafs are as resistant as they look. But trying to smash through Lapis' barrier probably isn't the wisest plan.
Wenomir's opponent is about to try cleaving the warrior out of the air when a stream of lightning bites into him, causing his muscles to seize up right as Wenomir vaults off his head. And then brains the ogre with his axe. Impossibly this fails to kill the horror and he reacts by trying to swat Wenomir to the ground with the haft of his weapon and then follow up with a brutal overhead chop.
The final ogre pulls a filthy, jagged harpoon from somewhere best left unmentioned and hurls it straight toward Lapis.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
With the Answer lodged in the creature's head, Wenomir's maneuvering options are limited, but he has a solution for that. The Answer becomes briefly incorporeal (but Wenomir can still grip it) and phases through the ogre, letting Wenomir land safely on the ground. Before he can launch a counterattack, though, he notices another threat. In a flash, he places himself in the way of the harpoon and tries to swat it aside with a quick sweep of his axe.
With the Answer lodged in the creature's head, Wenomir's maneuvering options are limited, but he has a solution for that. The Answer becomes briefly incorporeal (but Wenomir can still grip it) and phases through the ogre, letting Wenomir land safely on the ground. Before he can launch a counterattack, though, he notices another threat. In a flash, he places himself in the way of the harpoon and tries to swat it aside with a quick sweep of his axe.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
Adir lets out a mighty cuss that's probably a little coarse for the ears of the children present. He dodges the hammer on reflex despite Lapis' barrier, tucking into a dexterous backwards roll that buys him a little space. If his next action doesn't work, they might be able to close on him to do some real damage.
With the battle devolving into relative chaos, the stag decides to supplement his medieval weapons with something a little more modern. Specifically he fast-draws a fat, stubby cannon of a revolver from a hip holster and empties as many blasts of iron shot as he has time for into the nearest ogre's head. These are loads of iron balls chambered in .410, and they'd reduce most normal bone or flesh to a red mélange at close range.
The stag fires mostly from the hip - which is a testament to his considerable accuracy. The cavern fills with hot powder flash, the sticky-sharp bite of nitroglycerin, and the dry red bellow of a steel dragon.
Adir lets out a mighty cuss that's probably a little coarse for the ears of the children present. He dodges the hammer on reflex despite Lapis' barrier, tucking into a dexterous backwards roll that buys him a little space. If his next action doesn't work, they might be able to close on him to do some real damage.
With the battle devolving into relative chaos, the stag decides to supplement his medieval weapons with something a little more modern. Specifically he fast-draws a fat, stubby cannon of a revolver from a hip holster and empties as many blasts of iron shot as he has time for into the nearest ogre's head. These are loads of iron balls chambered in .410, and they'd reduce most normal bone or flesh to a red mélange at close range.
The stag fires mostly from the hip - which is a testament to his considerable accuracy. The cavern fills with hot powder flash, the sticky-sharp bite of nitroglycerin, and the dry red bellow of a steel dragon.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
Wenomir swats the harpoon out of the air and is met with the unpleasant fate of oily, dreadfully foul smelling fluid exploding from the weapon in a nauseating spray of filth.
Goodness.
These things are just the worst.
Lapis decides to press the opening Wenomir just created, darting forward as she calls upon the Law of Empty Forms. Matter is, after all, mostly nothing. And fae are full of even more nothing than that. She moves in low, ducking under the ogre's rancid harpoon and rakes a wide gash across his belly. The wound left behind looks like burnt paper, ashes and dust spilling out as the annihilation creeps like a flame across parchment.
In spite of this the ogre still stands.
Adir's shotgun blast has a slightly different effect. The ogre's face vanishes in a putrid spray as he monster's body splays apart into a heap of refuse. Bits of bones. Rotten hide. Cobwebs and nasty, venomous words spoken when the subject can't hear. Envy and malice and hate.
The remaining ogres don't pause. And they aren't stupid, either. Having seen Wenomir put himself in harm's way to protect Lapis the ogre with the harpoon tries to skewer the girl while the other tries smashing Wenomir with a sweeping buzz saw stroke, expecting him to move into a compromised position to help Lapis.
Wenomir swats the harpoon out of the air and is met with the unpleasant fate of oily, dreadfully foul smelling fluid exploding from the weapon in a nauseating spray of filth.
Goodness.
These things are just the worst.
Lapis decides to press the opening Wenomir just created, darting forward as she calls upon the Law of Empty Forms. Matter is, after all, mostly nothing. And fae are full of even more nothing than that. She moves in low, ducking under the ogre's rancid harpoon and rakes a wide gash across his belly. The wound left behind looks like burnt paper, ashes and dust spilling out as the annihilation creeps like a flame across parchment.
In spite of this the ogre still stands.
Adir's shotgun blast has a slightly different effect. The ogre's face vanishes in a putrid spray as he monster's body splays apart into a heap of refuse. Bits of bones. Rotten hide. Cobwebs and nasty, venomous words spoken when the subject can't hear. Envy and malice and hate.
The remaining ogres don't pause. And they aren't stupid, either. Having seen Wenomir put himself in harm's way to protect Lapis the ogre with the harpoon tries to skewer the girl while the other tries smashing Wenomir with a sweeping buzz saw stroke, expecting him to move into a compromised position to help Lapis.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
Wenomir doesn't position itself as the ogre might have hoped. He assumes the Lion Wades Through the Whirlwind stance, the approach of a warrior who is outnumbered and hard-pressed. Low to the ground, he moves with a spidery grace.
When the buzz saw strikes, he luges forth, aggressive rather than defensive, and strikes it with a thundering blow. Far stronger than his physical strength would suggest, the counter-strike is meant to send the saw reeling back towards the other ogre, to make the two monsters get in each other's way. Wenomir follows it with a leap that stomps down on it, to add to its momentum, while launching him upwards and putting him on the right height to send a cold iron dagger at each of the monster's eyes.
Wenomir doesn't position itself as the ogre might have hoped. He assumes the Lion Wades Through the Whirlwind stance, the approach of a warrior who is outnumbered and hard-pressed. Low to the ground, he moves with a spidery grace.
When the buzz saw strikes, he luges forth, aggressive rather than defensive, and strikes it with a thundering blow. Far stronger than his physical strength would suggest, the counter-strike is meant to send the saw reeling back towards the other ogre, to make the two monsters get in each other's way. Wenomir follows it with a leap that stomps down on it, to add to its momentum, while launching him upwards and putting him on the right height to send a cold iron dagger at each of the monster's eyes.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
Adir's ears perk in distress, but he can't afford to fret about those oddly familiar, discordant, harping voices.
He drops smoothly to one knee, beneath the level of Wenomir's leap, and tries to put another fist-sized cloud of grapeshot into the best exposed knee of each remaining ogre. Fire and lead pummel the air.
Adir's ears perk in distress, but he can't afford to fret about those oddly familiar, discordant, harping voices.
He drops smoothly to one knee, beneath the level of Wenomir's leap, and tries to put another fist-sized cloud of grapeshot into the best exposed knee of each remaining ogre. Fire and lead pummel the air.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
A thundering blow echoes through the cave as the Answer crashes into the ogre's saw-axe, sending the weapon spinning wildly through the air and carving a gash into the harpoon ogre's side. The wound Lapis already inflicted spreads into second injury, burning away at the fae abomination's impure flesh. With a bellow of pain both ogre's find themselves suddenly blinded.
Not the best position to be in.
Getting their knees pulped really doesn't help much either.
Lapis, meanwhile, uses her shield to block the harpoon strike, the infectious and deadly magic the weapon carries devoured as she calls upon the Law of Infinite Lights. With this stolen power as fuel Resolution ignites with a lambent blaze moments before she thrusts the sword straight into the middle of the ogre's exposed rib-cage. Like rays through a storm cloud, pinpricks of light begin bleeding out of the ogre's body as it gives a single, horrible scream before bursting in a flash of radiance.
That's certainly one way to fell an ogre.
The remaining monster howls with rage and begins swinging his axe in wide, blind sweeps. Given how agile his foe is this is unlikely to be successful.
And through it all?
The child in the cage with uncanny blue eyes watches silently.
A thundering blow echoes through the cave as the Answer crashes into the ogre's saw-axe, sending the weapon spinning wildly through the air and carving a gash into the harpoon ogre's side. The wound Lapis already inflicted spreads into second injury, burning away at the fae abomination's impure flesh. With a bellow of pain both ogre's find themselves suddenly blinded.
Not the best position to be in.
Getting their knees pulped really doesn't help much either.
Lapis, meanwhile, uses her shield to block the harpoon strike, the infectious and deadly magic the weapon carries devoured as she calls upon the Law of Infinite Lights. With this stolen power as fuel Resolution ignites with a lambent blaze moments before she thrusts the sword straight into the middle of the ogre's exposed rib-cage. Like rays through a storm cloud, pinpricks of light begin bleeding out of the ogre's body as it gives a single, horrible scream before bursting in a flash of radiance.
That's certainly one way to fell an ogre.
The remaining monster howls with rage and begins swinging his axe in wide, blind sweeps. Given how agile his foe is this is unlikely to be successful.
And through it all?
The child in the cage with uncanny blue eyes watches silently.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
Wenomir deflects and avoids the flailing axe with almost contemptuous ease before going for the throat like an attacking wolf. With a flash, blur and soft sound of cutting, the final ogre's throat is cut wide open left to right, even as Wenomir lands on his feet well outside the range of the blood spray.
Wenomir deflects and avoids the flailing axe with almost contemptuous ease before going for the throat like an attacking wolf. With a flash, blur and soft sound of cutting, the final ogre's throat is cut wide open left to right, even as Wenomir lands on his feet well outside the range of the blood spray.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
Adir lowers his gun, taking a couple frosty breaths as he watches Wenomir tear through the last assailant. His own cool blue eyes track to the boy in the cage again. "Hang on, kid," he says, almost automatically, jogging with long, loping strides over to the spot where the boy's caged.
He frowns down at the horrible little prison. And yet... They've come too far and gone too deep to stop being careful. He decides to pull a trick he used - or tried to use - with little Cassie. Or... the other Cassie. Oh, hell. She thinks he's dad, and who's he to argue with that?
Of course, accepting that means that even if there's something Wrong with this boy or something feyish, they probably still can't leave him in a cage.
He'll frown and pull a nail out of his pocket, crouching down beside the boy. He holds it out. Assuming the boy can reach through the bars of his cage... "I need you to touch this, kiddo. Can you do that?"
Adir lowers his gun, taking a couple frosty breaths as he watches Wenomir tear through the last assailant. His own cool blue eyes track to the boy in the cage again. "Hang on, kid," he says, almost automatically, jogging with long, loping strides over to the spot where the boy's caged.
He frowns down at the horrible little prison. And yet... They've come too far and gone too deep to stop being careful. He decides to pull a trick he used - or tried to use - with little Cassie. Or... the other Cassie. Oh, hell. She thinks he's dad, and who's he to argue with that?
Of course, accepting that means that even if there's something Wrong with this boy or something feyish, they probably still can't leave him in a cage.
He'll frown and pull a nail out of his pocket, crouching down beside the boy. He holds it out. Assuming the boy can reach through the bars of his cage... "I need you to touch this, kiddo. Can you do that?"
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
Garbage and bones. Stringy, filthy plastic and bits of scrap metal. All that remains of the ogres are putrid heaps of filth. And their brutal, cruel looking weapons.
Violence is over.
For now.
The child's oddly impassive looking is replaced when a mix of concern and hope when Adir approaches him. He looks puzzled, but he reaches out and takes the nail. There's no burning flesh or hissing in pain or any hesitation. None of the hallmarks one might expect from a changeling or shape-changing fae beasty. Just a young child on the cusp of the teen years looking confused.
"I can't go home," he declares in about the most heartbreaking voice imaginable.
Garbage and bones. Stringy, filthy plastic and bits of scrap metal. All that remains of the ogres are putrid heaps of filth. And their brutal, cruel looking weapons.
Violence is over.
For now.
The child's oddly impassive looking is replaced when a mix of concern and hope when Adir approaches him. He looks puzzled, but he reaches out and takes the nail. There's no burning flesh or hissing in pain or any hesitation. None of the hallmarks one might expect from a changeling or shape-changing fae beasty. Just a young child on the cusp of the teen years looking confused.
"I can't go home," he declares in about the most heartbreaking voice imaginable.
Re: The Dreamlands
[The Warrens]
Wenomir stays back, letting Adir talk. He's better at dealing with children, no doubt. And this one... this could be a trap or just a child deeply traumatized by the place he found himself in.
Wenomir stays back, letting Adir talk. He's better at dealing with children, no doubt. And this one... this could be a trap or just a child deeply traumatized by the place he found himself in.