No MiM tonight again I'm afraid, didn't have time to do all the planning for it after I got in from LARP - so I splurged this instead. Just because. =D
Rufus was fairly sure that before long this staff would break as he blocked another heavy blow of the Abraxian's axe and indeed several splinters did fly off of it, a couple lancing his face. Forcing the blow away, Rufus dived away from his attacker, lashing out and catching the heretic on the ankle with the heavy stave. With a roar of pain, the Abraxian's leg gave out from under him giving Rufus a chance to spin and catch the heretic across the back of the head as a follow up. The crack as the wood met the back of the heretics skull was fairly sickening but he finally have some breathing space in order to take stock.
Glancing around, Rufus - as he absently brushed down his green mage robes - saw things had gone well and truly to Sharda. A lot of his friends were on the floor, bleeding or moaning in pain while Abraxian's advanced on the remaining fighting that were still upright including a quartet of Knights - one of each of the four Ithronian orders - a pair of Crowan priestesses who were a flurry of blades as they danced in seemingly perfect synchronisation to deflect and block and parry the axeblows from their attackers and a scout, stood some distance away from the main fighting, with a rapidly dwindling supply of arrows.
Seeing an opening Rufus made a break for the closest injured, pulling bottles from his pouches and pouring the contents down the throats of his injured companions, or onto their wounds, healing at least three of them before confronted by another pair of Abraxians.
"Praise be the God of Slaughter!" they crowed, charging the mage, one raising a large double handed battleaxe, with the other carried two smaller hatchets. Rufus dodged to the side of the battleaxe as it was swung down heavily, in a way that would have cut him in two, away from the hatchets, which gave him enough time to lash out again with his stave. Growling, the Abraxian wrenched his axe free of the dirt where it had become embedded, to swing again in a wide arc, forcing Rufus backwards.
Immediately the hatchet man pressed his attack and again there was the splint of wood as Rufus blocked, but used a similar trick to deflect the blow, then swung his staff hard upwards, catching the man in the groin, sending him to the floor writhing in agony and gasping for breath.
The man with the battleaxe surged forward, pressing his attack hard, forcing Rufus further and further backwards towards the woods and the mage was forced to stumble backwards through bushes and brambles to escape his attacker.
His back met a tree hard, jarring his head, and he brought the staff up hurriedly to block another blow that would have clove his skull in two. The Abraxian reached forward and ripped the staff from the mages hands, and Rufus stumbled away again.
The chase continued until he managed to trip and land heavily in the dirt. In a flash the Abraxian was there stood over him, leering down. "Easy pickings... easy prey... Another slaughter for Abraxis..." the heretic cackled, frothing at the mouth - a wild look in his eyes.
A zephyr of wind played about the pair and it was all Rufus could do to not let the look of sheer relief pass over his face. Instead he glared at the Abraxian. "You're wrong."
The heretic paused, obviously confused at the defiance, confused that this little mage wasn't screaming in terror. "About what?" he demanded.
"I was never easy prey." Rufus glared, raising a hand and intoning words of power. The axehead shattered into shards of metal, falling to the floor with soft thuds - the Abraxian staring at them with mouth agape. "And the slaughter stops. Now." Another gesture, another word and suddenly blood was pouring from the Abraxians ears, eyes, nose and mouth as her collapsed to the floor.
"Sorcerers aren't such an easy kill, heretic." Rufus said grimly, standing much taller than he had been previously. He reclaimed his staff and returned to the battlefield. Abraxian's were still harrying his friends and - seeing him emerge from the woods - started to converge on him too, starting with the man with two hatchets.
Rufus strode back onto the battlefield as magic rushed and swirled around him, whipping his robes around him as words of power coursed from his lips, his hand gestured again and again and Abraxian's died - falling like flies as their minds tore apart under his onslaught. "Time to end this." he boomed.