Friday, March 16, 2012

The fight continues...

All the below was written on my phone which wasn't the easiest thing ever. all glaring mistakes and the tags Will be fixed when I'm next on



Crow had made himself known to the militia men escorting the refugees from Mercia in fairly short order and had been enlisted to watch the flanks and the Kharachian took to his tasks with fervor staving off attacks by any heretics that got too close and piling the bodies of those fleeing the city who had been trampled or otherwise struck down onto the back of various carts that had made it clear. His limbs had made it past aching and everything he did was with a numb detachment, from the swinging of his mace to the lifting of the fallen.
This whole situation was screwed beyond belief, and doubt niggled the back of his mind even as he struck aside a heretic - wild eyed and frothing at the mouth - with ease.
Despite their respective duties - it had been a mistake for the brothers to separate. He couldn't see how anyone in there could fight their way out again after fighting their way in. He didn't doubt his brothers strength or courage but the odds were insurmountable. Unless he were to call upon his Ladies final gift and miracle.

He took pause as they crested a rise, staring up at the sun which was now most of the way through its descent to touch back down with Arda. "Don't do anything reckless Guardian." he murmured even as more Kryganites burst from the woodland and he rushed to meet them...


Grundown stirred with a groan, rubbing his head where it hit the rock. Realisation struck him as his memory returned and he turned to look at the Elf beside him - her body still twitching as if in pain, a large pool of blood around her arm where Leanna's dagger had struck. "Krartz!" ge cursed in Dwarven, scrambling over to her and reaching into a pouch at his belt. "Hold on lass... yer may be an Elf but even ye don' deserve to be killed in such a treacherous manner." his fingers found potion bottles and he pulled them out in a great handful. He picked out two without even looking at the labels and poured the contests both down the elfs throat.
The twitching stopped and the wound stopped bleeding as it slowly seemed to seal itself. "Wake up..." the dwarf shook Eliana almost violently as he repeatedly said the words like some kind of litany, his voice gradually getting higher and louder. "Wake up you Sharda-cursed ecklarfar!" he roared at her, and eventually she stirred.

"You don't need to shout naugrim... anyone would think you were worried about me." Eliana's eyes flickered open pain clouding her face instantly as her injuries made themselves known. "What happened?"

"The manling lass that the Crowan lad is besotted by is a follower of the Dark Headless God of Lies and Deceit." Grundown intoned darkly. "And by the names of my Ancestors - may they rest in the stone eternal - I declare her judged."

Eliana looked shocked. "Leanna? But she has been living with Gregory for months, she's been adventuring for years... How did we not spot it? And why would she show herself now?"

"You heard the grobi fondler... talkin' about these grand plans an' usin' us te work against the Kryganites... who knows what plans of the Great Liar we've been trapped in." Grundown's voice was harsh and angry and he had taken to pacing back and forth on the path.

"Poor Gregory." Eliana lamented. "This will break the young humans heart."

"Thassiff 'ee finds out." Grundown pointed out. "He doesnae deserve to know the pain that the woman he loved was a scum sucker. I intend te kill 'er firs'."

"For that we need to get back to Netherthong first and it's going to take a while with me on one bad leg."
The Dwarf pulled the Elf to her feet, handed her her crutch. "We better git movin' then." He growled as he set off down the road again.


Backed into a corner by three cultists Gregory was beginning to panic. he had lost the shield somewhere along the way and wielded a longsword in each hand - parrying frantically. He bled from dozens of cuts all over his body including one over his left eye - from which the blood repeatedly threatened to blind him. There was little he could do - the three of them pressed the attack hard and it was only due to the fact he was backed into a small alley with no real room for them to maneuver round him that he hadn't been killed yet.
'Crowa - it may be now that I come and meet you...' the thought was desperate as he concentrated his strength for what he might have to do next.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden shout behind the cultists and suddenly the middle one fell, his head caved in. Using the distraction Gregory ran one of them through with his blade while the other was crushed against the wall by a large warmer.

He came face to face with an unkempt looking man - a mane of auburn hair hanging around his face, several weeks worth of facial hair on his face and the reek of whiskey about him.

"What the shit is happening?" he asked, his voice slurred. "Who invited all of these bastards to a party?"

The man wore the militia colours but the black tabbard was probably stained with more booze than blood. Even though the man had saved his life Gregory couldn't help but be angry at his attitude and the fact that he was so far into his cups it was a wonder he could stand never mind swing the hammer he held.
"They are Kryganites." he sniffed. "They invited themselves while the country watches the Communion."

"Well... how about we go kick the shite out of some heretics then." the man grinned offering his hand. "Aylix Goth - at yer service." he said, with a belch.

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