The smoke from the pipeweeds of the three dwarves over in the corner fills the dark noisy room with a thick pungent atmosphere that almost makes it difficult to breathe. Every once in a while a paticularily bold being sends a glare in the direction of the dwarves, but none find their courage strong enough to go over and actually make them put the weeds out. In other words, it's yet another typical night in the tavern known only as the Edge.
The barkeep sends a calculating glance your way as you walk through the door, bringing with you a rare blast of fresh air, tinged with the cold of the snow and frost filled night outside. His, no, hers you notice after a brief moments inspection, sharp green eyes catch sight of the roll of thin tanned hide in your grasp and a brief smile flickers about her lips. She nods towards a large table back in the opposite corner from the dwarves where a couple of others have already gathered.
As you walk over you scan the gathering, yet you notice that everyone seems to also have somewhere on their person another of those leather scrolls that brought you here. No where to be seen is the mysterious Lain d'Nirae that brought you all together. A glance at the barkeep just brings another mysterious smile and a slight lift of her shoulder.
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OOC: Reactions? Be sure to include descriptions of your characters!
A flash of green can be seen for an instant, before the eyes shift elsewhere. Brushing aside a lock of straggly long black hair, Tom slouches even further into his black cloak that conceals the rest of his features but doesn't quite hide his six foot broad shouldered frame. What skin can be seen is heavily tanned, a hilt of some huge weapon can be seen by his side in easy reach. He absently-mindly plays with a leather scroll with scarred hands, slowly tearing it to pieces. A pensive dark frown is on his unshaven face, there is a hint of a briney smell and something... darker emanating from him. His gaze skirts everywhere with rapidness as his mouth turns a bit more downward. Where was that blasted girl?!
A short, slight woman looks up as Tom comes in ; she's an elf, with long, long black hair that falls down to her narrow waist, and lovely shining green eyes. She's dressed in the white hunting leathers favoured by the elves of the far north, and has a bow and a very large bastard sword sitting at her side with her pack. One of the ubiquitous leather scrolls can be seen in front of where she sits, fiddling with the tuning pegs of her travel harp.
Her eyes meet Tom's briefly, then she picks up her kit and follows him to the large table. "I'm Moonshadow," she says, "and I think we are to be travelling companions."
A pair of small brown eyes flick over the approaching pair, taking note of the scrolls, before continuing their circuit of the common room. The owner of the eyes would appear to be your average dusky skinned woman in dark clothing with waist length black hair pulled back into a tight braid, if she weren't less than three feet tall. A small backpack hangs from the back of the chair she is perched upon. The only visible indication of any weaponry is a small quiver strapped to her right leg.
Sighing to herself, Ticha picks up the leather scroll from where it lay on the table in front of her, and starts tapping it against her thigh, all the while keeping an eye out for this Lain person.
Stepping into the tavern, and with only his mail shirt refuting the look of a simple traveler, Daren nodded to the barkeep in thanks for the indicator before looking over the other scroll bearers. Then rubbing his bald head a moment he approached the waiting miniscule woman, and after pulling out his own copy of the mysterious scroll case he asked, "Any idea when she is supposed to arrive?"
Glancing up at the non-descript human male, Ticha stills and replies in a small and proper voice, "I do not know when she will arrive."
So saying, Ticha then resumes her scan of the common room and the soundless tapping.
The first thing anyone noticed was a slight glint of firelight off of a silver signet ring in the shadows. A shimmer of silvery hair as the owner shifted it back with a slight shake of her head. The soft rustle of a heavy wool cloak. A brief glimpse of twin orbs of fire in the darkness.
The young woman emerged from the darkness of the shadows as if she owned them. She was small, barely brushing against the five foot mark, but her height disadvantagement didn't seem to bother her. Her build was slim, and she carried herself with the ease of someone long accustomed to a more uncivilized seting. Her hair was as pale as fresh minted silver coins, worn tied back in a severe ponytail, but probably only about shoulder length if it was let down.
Her skin was dark, but if it was a natural darkness, or one born of long hours spent in the sun and weather, the mind couldn't easily decide. Her ears bore the slight point of a half-breed of the elves. She wore dark clothing, in various shades of black and dark blues and browns, much of it either soft wool or the hard and heavy sheen of leather armor.
A long rapier-hilted straight sword hung straight down from her belt, instead of at the more common jaunty angle. A strange either short-bladed sword or long knife with a saber's hilt opposed the rapier on the otherside of her waist. Other than that, the hooded black cloak she wore covered it all.
She glanced around the table, pale blue eyes taking in everyone in turn. Eilistraee's follower, Moonshadow, a slender elf who garnered a tight smile of real or imagined problems in the future. The human warrior-thief, Daren Stone, who recieved just a brief nod of the head in acknowledgement. The small in statue, but not in action, Ticha, a brief glimpse of amusement from the somber woman.
When her eyes finally met the husky barbarian known only as Rackham, the smile blossomed into something more like a cocky grin and her hand drifts to the hilt of her sword. For a moment, even that hardened warrior couldn't help but remember another young woman that bore a similar grin and ring upon her fist. His old partner in mayham and destruction. Nirae d'Elesandr.
"Well, I see you all managed to arrive safely. Welcome to The Edge. I'd appreciate if you don't get drunk and destroy the place. It's not cheap to repair after all. And besides," A grin at the dark-haired barkeep that seemed even shorter than the woman, but not by much. "Jack wouldn't be very happy if you did. And that would be a Bad Thing."
"Now, as some of you may have guessed, my name is Lain d'Nirae. I'm the one who asked all of you to join me here." She smiled, stepping forwards to lean against the table. "What I'm asking now, is who amongst you is strong enough to follow me..." A brief pause as she glanced around the table again, meeting each person's eyes. "into the Depths of the Underdark."
She straightened, sweeping her cloak back with a tiny shrug of her shoulders. "It wouldn't be completely with out compensation though." A lightening fast movement of her hand, and four small leather bags thumped into the center of the table with the satisfying sound of coins.
"There's more waiting at the end for those who make it back out. Now... who will join me and aid me in rescuing my mother from the dark kin?"
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OOC: Any who open the bag will find 10 platinum pieces.
"Money, though nice, and not to mention shiny, is of trivial importance compared with the opportunity to repay a debt of honour, and of blood." says Moonshadow, picking up one of the four pouches. "Freeing your mother is as important to my family as it is to yourself, I assure you."
"There are spiritual matters to be attended to as well ; I hope to be able to offer freedom and the solace of the goddess to troubled souls in the darkness." Moonshadow pointedly studies Lain for a moment, as if she's weighing up the troubles that darken the half-elf's own soul. "Yourself not least."
Lain glanced at Moonshadow, one silver brow arching high. "Gods of any sort are not my concern. Whether they be or no, I care not. Follow what you may, and preach to those who will listen if you will, but kindly do not seek to impose your will or the ways of your... godess... upon me."
She glanced at the others. "And the rest of you? What is your say?"
Rackham stares at Lain intently, his eyes staring as if trying to see into her soul. After scrutinizing the young woman from top to bottom, he sighs inwardly with relief. Outwardly a small crease on his forehead finally straightens out. She doesn't LOOK anything like him. There had been some very VERY drunken nights, and victory celebration nights, and oh-so-happy-to-be-alive nights... Nirae hadn't seemed to mind he almost always had blood on him, either his or a foe's, and after a while he had developed a nagging doubt...
His eyes soften for a moment after looking at Lain, they become less stoney and piercing for just a second. "Your mother was a good woman," his voice drawls out, rough and husky and a bit rusty. His definition of good was anybody's guess.
"I'll go with you girl, and the underdark will become a raging sea of lifeblood from those who stand before our blades. Their screams will become testimonies of their foolishness." Why, he might even gain another scar or two! And some nice... trophies...
A corner of his mouth lifts into a half-insane mockery of a grin, his eyes glint madly with unholy fervor, and... Oh yes. Rackham grabs a bag from the table. Money was useful for buying sharp and pointy things. Nirae had broken him of the habit of just trying to take most of it from the screaming shopkeepers.
OOC: I'm sooooooooo sorry Priss! I just couldn't resist! :D
"Glad to have you along, uncle." Lain replys with a slight wink. "Feel free to create as much mayham and destruction as you want. I won't stop you."
Then her pale eyes darken for a moment, her voice deepening to an almost husky drawl as her hand drops to the hilt of the saber-knife. "Unless we find him. I'm afraid you can't touch him. My... father... must answer to my blade's questioning first."
Picking up one of the pouches and glancing inside, Ticha looks at Lain for a long moment before quirking a small smile.
"The Underdark, an interesting destination to be sure." Ticha seems to pause for a moment in thought, before making the small pouch disappear. "I too am looking for someone, and I have reason to believe that travelling with you will lead me to him. I will accompany you."
"Very good, Ticha." Lain's lips quirked upwards in a brief smile, before her eyes turned to the only one who hadn't spoken yet.
"And that leaves just... one. Well, Mr. Stone? What is it? In... or out?"
Hefting the final bag of coins in his hands a couple times, as if weighing it, the short man then shrugged and merely replied with, "It's nice to be employed again. When do we leave?"
For a moment, Lain's pale eyes seem to flick towards the window to the street where the cool light of the moon lit the darkness with a silvery glimmer.
"Now." She replied. "Assuming of course... if you think you can handle it."
The smirk that played across her features was little if not at least slightly mocking.
"Moonlight is not the least of the goddess' blessings, a light in darkness." Moonshadow says, smiling a little. "But her dark side can be terrible to behold. I am more dangerous than I look."
Slipping smoothly from her chair, Ticha shoulders her pack and looks up at her taller companions.
"Appearances can be deceiving," she says philosophically. "Shall we embark upon our journey now?"
The door opened one more time to allow another person into the room.
It is a fairly tall female human. She stands just short of 6 feet in height. She's slim but doesn't look too fragile. Her movements are conservative, but graceful. Her dark purple hair is cut fairly short, but still falls to her shoulders. There are two very distinctive features about her face. The first is the large scar that runs down across her left eye to just above her lips. The brown eye itself is undamaged by some miracle. The other is an intricate tattoo that covers the right side of her face. She wears simple grey slacks with a white shirt. A pair of leather boots covers her feet. All her clothing seems to be made more for durability then for visual appeal.
Scanning the place with her eyes quickly, she finally settles on the group before wandering closer. "I'm Ailith. You've contacted me about a 'job'?" she asked of Lain. "I've been a bit delayed on the road."
Hearing the woman introduce herself, Ticha looks up sharply from where she was inspecting Lain's ensemble.
"Ailith!" she exclaims in a manner that leads you to believe that she is very pleasantly surprised. "It is good to see you again. How are you doing and how is Katriana doing?" Ticha continues, her face more animated than it has been the entire evening.
Examining the speaker closer, a smile appeared on Ailith's face. "Ticha, my friend. Good to see you too." Making a face as she patted a small pouch at her side, she answered the halflings question. "Well, I'm almost broke again. And Katriana is still staying at her villa. She's doing well."
Placing a hand on the shorter womans shoulder she asked a question of her own. "How about you? Any news?"
Taking a small step backwards from everyone Daren performs a quick check of the contents of his pack, confirming that at least the essentials are already there, before nodding to himself and shouldering it once more. Afterward, he returns to watching his new employer and travelling companions in hopes that he will be able to learn their moves and patterns so that he can most efficiently work with them, especially when everything goes to hell...
...which, according to Lain, is rather expected this time around.
Lain straightened and stretched slightyly, rolling her head about her shoulders. For a moment, there was a brief glimpse of a scar, pale against her dark skin, just clearing the collar of her shirt and winding its gradual way up her neck before it disappeared again into her hair at the base of her neck.
She grinned at the new arrival. "About time you showed up, Ailith. I was about to give your share to the others." With that she threw a fifth pouch at the taller woman with an underhanded flick of her wrist, never even for a moment thinking that the other would fail to catch the pouch.
"Now, lest you all have some business left to care for here in town, you can leave any gear you don't want to haul around with Jack here. She'll see that not a soul touches it before you return... and have it sent to whatever next of kin you might have if you don't."
With that, she reaches back and twitches the hood of her dark cloak up about her head and strides towards the door.
Smiling sadly up at Ailith, Ticha nods, "Yes, there is news, though none of it is good I'm afraid."
Seeing Lain walk out the door, she shrugs and looks up at her friend, "It is a long tale, and one not to be told standing in the the middle of a tavern. I shall relay it to you later." Glancing at the others, she starts towards the door, "But for now, I believe it would be best to follow our employer."
Moonshadow quickly replaces her harp in her praeternaturally capacious pack and follows the others out of the door, her soft steps almost soundless under the moonlit sky,
Grabbing his weapon, Rackham slings it across his back and strides after Lain. He subconciosly dismisses the rest of his companions, they would prove their mettle in battle. The bald one seemed okay though.
Slipping the money pouch inside her shirt, the woman followed the others, knowing that her friend would be able to watch both their backs. She didn't relax her guard though.
Giving a slight bounce to settle everything down, Daren the followed the rest out the door.
Still feeling the new weight of the coins within his vest he found himself nodding to himself once again... yep, it's good to have an employer.
The hardpacked dirt steet was bathed with the silvery glow of moonlight, but still shadows existed. For a moment, Lain seemed to disappear into the shadow of the tavern's overhanging roof, but then she made a point of glancing towards the rest of the group. Her pale eyes seemed to burn with fire as she gazed upon her companion, illuminating once and for all the true nature of the being that had sired her.
Then she looked away, that firey gaze peering down the street into the darkness of the forest outside of town and the heavy peaks of the Thannengrin Mountains beyond. She raised a black clad arm and pointed towards the mountains, her drow's eyes turning back to catch them once more in their gaze.
"There... the mountains, or rather beneath them. That is our destination." She grinned rather toothly, a flash of white in the darkness. "Yes, they are forbidden by... well, pretty much everyone. But isn't that just part of the joy of the challenge? To go where no one else dares?"
Stopping a few paces away from Lain, Ticha gazes at the mountains in the distance.
"It matters not if they are forbidden," she turns her gaze back to Lain. "If that is our destination, then that is where we shall go."
Reaching down, she slips a pair of eye glasses with a sturdy wire frame from behind a broad belt and dons them.
"When are we to leave?"
"I know little of these mountains, to be sure," Moonshadow says, "but I do not feel that the goddess regards them as forbidden to her or her followers, whatever other people may say."
"Out of interest, though", she continues, "what are the tales they tell about these mountains? I always like to hear a good story, and the lore may be relevant to our journey."
The elf looks at Lain, half-expectantly.
Lain smiles, slipping down the street towards the mountains. "From what I have heard from the locals, Thannengrin used to be something that was less than a mountain, and more of a sort of fortress. A man, or possibly a Drow lord, ruled the surrounding land in a rather _less_ than polite fashion. Fellow by the name of Lansk or Lasnen or something like that... nasty bit of work."
"Then the dwarves took offense, as dwarves tend to do, and the inevitable battle of clean dirt diggers and dirty ones took place, and well... somehow the fortress got turned into a mountain. But like I said, this is just what I've heard from the locals, and they're not exactly known for their paying attention outside of their own little cosmos."
"Besides, I find it a bit hard to believe that the "very gods" would send fire and water from raining from the sky to "smite" the "villinious black eeelves"... and wipe out two entire tribes of dwarves while they were at it. It is beyond belief."
She shrugs. "At any rate, I'm not sure exactly _why_ it is forbidden, but I can say that from what I've heard, Lansk or Lagien or whatever the hell his name is, he may or may not still be down there."
A pause. "I wouldn't suggest that any of you might have alteriour (sp) motives here, but if you happen to have an issue with the slavery... there's been several people that have gone missing around here. Mostly children, but every once in a while a whole family from one of the outlying farms dissappears."
Glancing towards Lain for the briefest of moments at her mention of slavery Daren once more bounces his shoulders to settle his pack before starting off.
Rackham is not disuaded, he and Nirae had broken into many 'forbidden' places before. It usually meant lots and lots of bloodshed and an occasional screaming priest or two... hundred.
"How long ago did this business take place?" Moonshadow asks. "If he's still alive down there, it can't have been too long ago, at least not as my people measure these things. And no, I don't care for slavers, especially not if they worship the Queen of the Demonweb Pits. I've fought that sort many times."
"Three, maybe four local generations past. But then, the locals seem to be rather short lived. So, perhaps seventy, maybe a hundred, years agone."
Lain shrugs. "I really don't know how much of it to believe though. Some of the accounts vary quite wildly."
"As if no one knew very much but had felt the need to fill out the sparse details from their active imagination, I suppose."
Moonshadow looks in the direction of the mountain. "In that case, the only thing to do is to go and scout things out on the ground. Are we to walk, or do you have another plan?"
"We walk. I'll not be putting my life in the hands of a fickle mount of any kind." Lain's response was curt at best, but then, she was already on her way out of town.
Moonshadow looks at the others to gauge their reactions, then shrugs. Walking is no hardship, especially not when compared to what's likely to be experienced in the Underdark. The elf girl follows Lain at an interval of a few metres.
Ailith didn't care either way about walking and continued to listen with one ear as she caught up with her friend on their latest 'adventures'.
Ticha falls in several paces behind Moonshadow, continuing her quiet conversation with Ailith.
Daren follows along, making sure to keep close to him new employer.
Lain moved almost completely without sound, seeming almost a shadow herself as she slipped from shadow to shadow, mostly avoiding the silver light of the moon. Her firey eyes gazed about with the alertness of someone raised to expect attack at any moment. Her slightly pointed ears twitched ever so slightly as she listened for the tiniest unnatural sound.
In short order, the moetly crew had passed from the tiny pool of Order that was the village into the darkness of the forest. It was almost pitch black, barely any light filtering down through the trees to the overgrown trail they traveled. And it was still yet the edge of the forest, where the overhanging layers of greenery were light. The deeper they delved into the forest, the darker it would get.
Yet Lain showed not a single sign of slowing or even stopping for the night.
A subtle change sweeps over Ticha once they leave the relative safety of the village. Putting her conversation on hold, she begins to move through the forest with nary a sound, the shadows almost seeming to coil around her slight form, so much so that she seems to disappear as she walks through them, easily keeping pace with her larger companions.
Still, she stays close to Ailith, keeping an alert eye and ear out for the both of them.
Not breaking his stride, Rackahm pulls some strange goggles over his eyes. He scans the darkness intently, as if daring it to attack.
Moonshadow follows Lain through the darkness, through the forest. More at home here than in the human lands, she relaxes somewhat.
Daren time and again stumbles in the darkness as he pushes himself to keep up with everyone else, but not daring the light a torch at this point due to the uncertain nature of their destination... besides, once they go underground, he figures he will need every torch he can lay his hands upon.
The night progressed, as all that is governed by Time's laws must do. The surrounding darkness deepened and deepened laying in a pitch black covering over everything as they ventured deeper into the long untraveled forest. The footing progressively became more and more difficult and most stumbled at least once as they tried to keep up with their bright eyed employer.
For a moment, that hot gaze was directed back along the trail. Lain frowned slightly as she saw the disarray the group was falling into. She knew that she couldn't allow them to become seperated here, just as she knew that they would most likely be unhappy with her refusal to travel during the hours of day's light. But, if their eyes were to adjust to the heart tearing _black_ of the Underdark, they would have to start get used to it now. Here.
With a sigh, she reached back and removed the coil of silk rope from the side of her light pack. Hooking one end onto her sword belt with a quick tug release knot so as to not interfere if something... untoward should happen, she silently handed the rest of the coil to Daren.
"Use this as a guide. Fasten to your person if you must. We will not be stopping until dawn's light." The burning gaze of one of the dark kin pierced him with undivided attention, her voice was a subtle hiss in the darkness. "Pass the rope back. And... if you will... do ask Rackham to take up a position of rear guard."
The flames of her eyes vanished for a moment then reappeared. "I don't expect the night to remain so... quiet."
Ailith took a light hold of the rope with her left hand, as she adjusted her own Goggles of the Night. Making a couple quick practice movements with her fingers, she was ready to continue.
Moonshadow eschewed the use of the rope ; she had been in darker forests than this, after all, and the underdark. Her elf vision was made for nights like this.
Ticha eyed the rope before nodding in approval, though she made no move to take it. Her eyes piercing the darkness with ease as her small form shadowed Ailith.
Rackham gives a faint grunt as he ties the rope around his waist with the nibble fingers of a former sailor, leaving the knot easy to untie in case he had to manuver.
The darkness is nearly absolute. A silent, threatening black lightened just barely by vauge glimmerings of the moon as stray rays manage to break through the thick forest's canopy. Not a place of happy times, the oppressive weight of the night as they walk through the forest seem almost to have eyes lurking in every quaverous object, decernable only as a deeper patch of darkness in the dark to the unaided eye.
Though having yet little experience in the ways of the Aboveground, Lain shows little concern as she moves with smooth grace along the ancient trail. Her booted feet making hardly a sound as she glides across the broken ground. Her eyes keen in the dark, watching about, ears alert for any missound.
Then, what she has half been expecting since they entered the forest's ways, flesh writhing, undulating screams break the silence, dopplering about them, seeming to come from all sides at once. The cries came closer and closer, echoing from trees and boulders, tiny hidden streams and creeks. With them came the cloying odor of rot and decay.
Lain's hand makes a tiny flicker near where the rope had been tied to her belt and it fell away as if it had never been tied at all. Her eyes glance back along the trail to the others.
"Get ready."
The one almost whisper of speech is the only comment she makes, before she seems to vanish before their very eyes.
The first of the screaming creatures to break from the dense underbrush, looping it's crude weapon, half hammer half axe, about it's head is a truly hideous being. It's form long and lanky, but none of the porportions seem right. It's head, sharp snaggle toothed and thin greasy haired, seems far too overlarge for it's spindly, wiry body. It's limbs look long and stretched as if once pulled like taffy from normal modes, it's joints big and bulbous in comparison. The thin bits of skin that pass for lips for the creature are pulled back from its sharp, stained teeth in a death's head rictus as it tightens it's broken nailed hand on the stone weapon in it's claw.
Then more of it's fellows crash through the brush and there is only time for one brief moment of revelation before the battle.
GOBLINS!
Moonshadow draws her Sunblade and waits for the wave of goblins to arrive. Knowing their likely weakness, she intends to keep her magic in reserve, healing her comrades when necessary, but chiefly fighting with her sword and using Eilistraee's spring attack feat to strike down goblins without mercy.
Hearing the oncoming horde, Ticha vanishes into the shadows as she pulls her shortbow from the quiver strapped to her thigh, her plan being to dispatch any goblins approaching Ailith, to give her time to cast a spell.
OOC: Ticha is going to use hide in plain sight and shot on the run to take a single shot every round while remaining hidden, her targets of priority will be those goblins approaching Ailith, then those approaching Moonshadow, then all the others.
Needing a bit of information first, Ailith dropped the rope in her hand and quickly turned around in place. She tried to get an estimate on the numbers of the creatures. She already had plans, but needed to quickly check the situation before acting.
OOC: I have two ways I could start this fight, but it all depends on the relative strenght of the opposition. So if I can get a rough number, doesn't have to be very precise, I'll post my action for this round.
Also, due to some problems with my comp, I've reformated/reinstalled the OS, several times, so if you could send a copy of my char sheet to IY-chan over IRC, I would appreciate it. I'm not sure if I should even bother setting up my email/IRC right now if I have to do it all over again.
Rackam tore the rope off of him with quivering fingers, his blood seemed to boil within his veins. The Call proved to be almost too strong for him to resist, yet he held it at bay while he unslung his sword and held it in front of him. His legs tense as he crouches, almost like a runner, in preparation of a charge. Time seems to stand still for him, as he waits for a that flicker of movement that would set him off.
OCC- Waiting to see what the situation is like before Rackham begins his bloodbath. Where are the most goblins huddled and stuff, who appears to be the strongest or the leader.
The creatures lurked in the shadows and the darkness. It seemed that there was maybe fifteen of the creatures, but from the sounds of things more lurked in the forest beyond.
OOC: There _is_ an OOC board for things like what's been being posted, and if people _use_ it, then they will discover things. -_-;
Deciding that this fight might be a longer one, Ailith put up her protections up first. A quick blur of words and a rush of adrenaline filled her body. Riding that feeling, she erected a shield of force in front of her with a single word.
OOC: Haste, followed by a Shield spell.
If you're not familiar, Haste gives me an extra partial action per round and +4AC. Shield gives me +7AC from half the battlefield. Which half, depends on which way I set it as a free action. Right now it's set for my front.
A primal roars echoes in the night as Rackham stops trying to contain the Call. It washes over him, surges in his veins and takes control of his mind. His thirst for blood and battle is amplified a thousand times over, he RAGES! Setting off at a charge, Rackham keeps the huge blade low, ready to sweep it upward when he reaches the first goblin. Pitiful creature or no, this was a battle, and something to be savored. He didn't care about the numbers, every kill would only make him stronger. The roar didn't cease in his lips.
OOC: Rackham is raging/frenzied, and due to being a barb, having magical boots and stuff, he's pretty dam fast ^^
The goblins scatter as soon as Rackham was drawing breath for his scream. Some slip up into trees and start pitching down stones and things while others remain on the ground racing about with their high chittering laughter to distract the raging barbarian.
Yet even for all their hyperactive speed, some couldn't outpace the enhanced barbarian. If it had been light, one would be able to see the fountains of greenish-purple blood spurting from the severed cariod arteries as one of the chittering beasts' head was swept from its shoulders and the sudden rush from the now shrieking in agony pair that suddenly found themselves without their arms beyond their elbows. But in the washed out shades of the darkness, only gouts of deeper, liquid black flooded through Rackham's local vicinity.
The maimed goblins waved the remains of their arms about as they scurried in their agony and pain, blood flying about. By some dumb luck or chance, before their blood began to slow to the frenzied beat of their stumbling double hearts last feeble deaths, three, perhaps four, splashes of the thick, rancid tasting blood splattered across Rackhams face, covering a good portion of his goggles.
Then, two stones arced out of the darkness to ping painfully against Ticha and Ailith's heads. Right against the _back_ of their skulls. They didn't cause much damage but they sure did _hurt_.
Moonshadow switches tack and resheathes her Sunblade. "My bow will be better to hunt such birds as roost in these trees", she says, before proceeding to snipe at the treed goblins with unerring elfin skill.
In reply to the stone, Ailith cast one more spell this fight. If anyone in the area was sensitive to negative energy, they could feel a small, concentrated ball of it appear between her hands. Then with a simple flick of a wrist, she simply dropped it at her own feet where it exploded in a burst. The party might have felt a minor chill wash over them, but were unaffected... The goblins on the other hand...
Edit: After the spell is cast, Ailith pulls out her crossbow.
OOC: Circle of Death. 50 foot radius burst. Snuffs out 1d4HD worth of living creatures per caster level (14d4 in this case). Creatures with lowest HD are affected first, and nothing over 9HD is affected. Fortitude save negates. The DC is 30+.
The burst of magic flys out from Ailith in a wave of such intense cold that even Lain, accustomed to the dark and the cold, shivers.
A handful of goblins tumble from the branches of the nearer trees as the spell siezes them in its cluches, sucking the life from them. With them comes a number of the native wildlife, small squirrels and birds that had been hiding in the branches. A snake that had been climbing up the rough bark of an oak falls to the ground still slightly twitching with its death throes.
Of the beasts running about on the ground, it is true that some ten or possibly eleven of the goblins fall instantly in death. A smaller handful of others within the spells reach shiver hard, somehow throwing off the spell's effects. But they aren't the only ones affected.
In the forest to the side of the path, a deer freezes in mid leap and dies. A badger scurrying about trying to get to it's burrow and away from the battlefield collapses in death. A couple turkeys burst up trying to fly away, but tumble back to the ground locked in death.
Ignoring the goosebumps caused by the wash of deadly energy, Ticha nocks an arrow as her eyes sweep the surrounding woodlands for a glimpse of the goblins.
Moonshadow breathes deeply to maintain her equilibrium as the bone-deep chill of the necromantic charm washes over her. Moonlights begin to spark into existence around her as she looks for targets.
Rackham rips the useless googles away from his eyes with a roar, then glares around trying to find another enemy to slay. He doesn't flinch from the cold, in his state, there is only the sweet lust for battle. He crouches, preparing to lunge.
Hearing a faint sound, Lain's head whips about just in time to see Darien crumple to the ground, a faint trail of blood trickling from his lips. As his body slumps forwards, the cause of his demise becomes evident. A bone handled knife juts up from the back of his neck like a demented flower.
"Great..."
She turns back to the battle, readying her sling even as she picks her target, only to hiss in frustration as Rackham charges blindly into her path. She picks another target and lets fly even as his blade hacks in the ground just barely missing a cackling goblin.
Across the tiny bit of a clearing, the elf begins to shimmer with an unearthly light as she drew her bow taut, sharp eyes darting about the darkness for targets for her bow.
"Fool! You're making a target of yourself!" Lain barks, then snarls for giving away her position and vanishes into another shadow.
Ticha's eyes dart back to her left as she spots a goblin about to heave a large branch down upon Moonshadow from the elf's blind spot.
"They can already see me," Moonshadow replies as she scans all around for any still-living goblin, "this merely redresses some of the balance. And Rackham will need light to fight by just as much, or more."
Drawing an arrow to her cheek, Ticha mutters a word and the arrow crackles with suppressed energy as she lets it fly at the unsuspecting goblin.
Taking a few steps towards Moonshadow, Ticha once more vanishes from sight.
The goblin of Ticha's intent jerks then vanishes from the vision of those who can see in the darkness.
Rackham slices down another two in his mad fury. His arms darkening with the beasts' blood. Sometimes it appeares that it is his great fists that are rending the life from their bodies instead of his blade.
Moonshadow sees five, maybe six goblins crouching together just barely within the limit of her lowlight vision. Their eyes glitter dangerously with refelctions from the summoned moonlight as they peer at her, long jaws gaping wide in grusome drooling grins.
Lain sends another stone whistling through the air towards a goblin leaping to attack Rackham from behind, but her nightvision, which had adapted to the full darkness, becomes dazzled from Moonshadow's summoned moonlight and throws her aim awry. Instead of the killing blow she intended, her stone just grazes the side of the beast's head and causes him to scream in pain and rage. However, it does throw off his attack and sends it crashing into the hard dirt of the path instead of Rackham's back.
Moonshadow shoots into the cluster of goblins, hoping that a few rounds of elf-shot will disperse them nicely. "Scram, goblins," she says, "you're not worth the killing."
Rackham's roar doesn't abate. This was life! You enemies' life coating you, the sweet scent of battle and death, the sheer rush...
There were still more. He rushes towards them, his blade poise to cut them as a farmer reaps the grain.
Suddenly, one of the slightly smaller goblins screetches out something in their screaming tongue, and all of the goblins pause, one getting chopped down by one of Rackham's fury driven strokes. Another bout of screaming, and they all turn and dash back into the forest's cover.
When the last one dissappears into the underbrush, a heavy leather bag full of small lead beads flies out of the darkness and smacks Rackham full upon the back of the head. Then Lain steps out of the shadows from where the bag originated, hooking her sling back onto her belt. She stares after where the goblins vanished.
"We must be moving quicker now. They are not so fool as one may believe. They'll bring back any reinforcements and allies they can find."
Then her firy gaze turns back to look over the others.
"I am not one for fighting blindly or constantly. Nor am I one for dying. We cannot stop here, we must press on lest they return in such numbers that even their weakness might cut us down."
With that she turns, adjusting slightly the light pack on her back and the cloak covering it, and steps over a pair of particularily grusome goblinite forms before continuing down the path. As she passes Rackham, she leans down and picks up her shotbag and returns it to her slingstone pouch.
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OOC: Not trying to knock Racky _out_ just knock him out of the rage. If he goes out for a bit, okay but might want to wake him up shortly after the last person leaves so he doesn't get left behind.
Moonshadow bounces over to Darien's prone body to see whether he still lives. "We have a casualty here," she says, worriedly studying the bone handled knife that has pierced the fallen fighter's spinal column.
"Can you heal him?" Ticha asks, her voice coming from somewhere near Ailith.
Ticha glances over at the elf as she inquires, then returns her searching gaze to the surrounding woodlands.
Moonshadow sighs. "I'm afraid he's beyond healing ; I can try to bring his soul back from the dead, but that's always a risky thing, and it takes time." Nonetheless, the elf takes her scroll of resurrection from her backpack and looks to the party's leader.
Rackham growls menacily at however had the gall to throw something at him, he would rend them from limb to limb... It was Nirae's daughter. With a shuddering breath, he wills himself from the Rage, from the Fury, from the sweet thirst of battle and blood.
Lain pauses and glances back, taking in the scene over her shoulder. A single slender brow raises above her eye as she gazes upon them. When she speaks, her voice is cold.
"Those fool enough to be taken into death's embrace without ever knowing their assaliant are best to remain in her cold grip. Not only that, but he never made even the barest attempts to defend himself in the battle, merely standing about doing his best impression of a village idiot at a fair. Such a fool is of no use to me." Her eyes turn back to the path ahead.
She continues on a few paces then speaks again.
"If you wish to waste your resources attempting to regain such fool, do as you will. I do not command your actions. I doubt even that I could claim to command what others may call your loyalty. " She shrugs, a single shoulder raising and falling. "It matters not to me."
"Well, we can't just leave him here. Even if you don't want to give him a decent burial, someone could track us somewhat because of the corpse." Ailith looked at the others. "But whatever we do, we can use his equipment. Or at least some of us can."
Lain pauses, sighing slightly, then turns to look full upon where the others gather about the corpse.
"If you wish to bury the fool, then be my guest. But do be advised, though the beasts that were here have scattered, they won't stay gone for long, and they may just bring a more vicious sort or help when they return. As well, there are scant few hours left in the night, and far yet to travel."
She steps over to where Rackham's goggles lay upon the ground and crouches down. Lifting them from where they had fallen when Rackham tore them from his head, she looks them over to be sure they are not broken then wipes the lenses off on a scrap of tattered cloth, that is realtively clean, from a nearby goblin corpse. Standing again, she looks over to Rackham.
"Oi. Uncle. You dropped these."
She holds the goggles out until he looks her way then tosses them to him.
"Well," Moonshadow says, "I suppose that's that." She puts the scroll away in her pack again. "It wouldn't do to let the goblins get hold of his equipment, though. He could have all kinds of nasty weapons on his person, the which might be used against us."
Moonshadow looks to Ticha and Ailith for the leadership that Lain won't provide. "What do you people think?" she asks.
Glancing around at the surrounding darkness, Ticha eyes the corpse for a moment.
"Strip him. And make it quick, we aren't going to be alone here for much longer."
Ailith recited another quick incantation and stared at the corpse. Within seconds she started pointing out magical items on the corpse.
Moonshadow stripped the corpse down to its black silk boxer shorts, placing the valuables and magic items to one side for the others to pack up as she went along. "I hope being eaten by wild animals or goblins is an acceptable form of burial for his religion," she mused.
Rackham catches the googles absentmindly, and puts them on. He breathes deeply, the Sweet Lust took much out of him. But oh, it wasn't Sweet for nothing. Hardly worthy oppenents, but it did get his blood racing.
"If you are truly worried that the fool's religious concerns do not include being eaten..." Lain carefully removes a small vial from a pouch at her side. "I believe that fire is acceptable in most religion. This would be sufficent to destroy the corpse down to ashes if you wish."
She holds the small vial up. Those who could see and recognize such things would recognize a tiny portion of dragon's blood in the vial.
"I would be _quite_ careful in it's application though. I sincerely doubt that the forest would appreciate being burned to the ground from mishandled fire."
Moonshadow takes the phial from Lain, and uttering a brief prayer to whatever god will take the dead man's soul to the afterlife, daintily applies a little of the dragon blood to the corpse.
"Gods of fire, gods of the wood, I commend this man's spirit to your care. Let him speedily cross to the afterlife, and let his sufferings be at an end."
The conflaguration is brief, but virilent. The body of the foolish misadventurer is quickly devoured by the greedy flames leaving barely even a few ashes to scatter in the brief wind that blows through the clearing.
"If all is in readiness... perhaps we should move along." Lain finally says, after a short moment of silence, taking her vial back from Moonshadow and replacing it in the pouch at her side.
Moving quickly, Ticha kneels by the pile of stuff and swiftly makes it disappear into her belt.
"We can sort and distribute this stuff later," she says before standing and glancing at the others. "Let's be off then."
Moonshadow nods. "I suppose it would be foolish to ask whether he had a family." She makes a mental note to deal with this issue later, after the fun is over, and then stands by Lain, waiting to see where the crazy elf leads them.
"I'm ready whenever you are." was Ailith's short reply.
"Very good." Lain's reply is terse as best as she continues striding along the path.
She reaches out at taps Rackham's shoulder as she passes. "Coming, Uncle?"
She knows the wild is no place for her. She was born in the enclosed blackness of the Underdark, it was were she was raised. She doesn't understand the ways of the wilderness as she does the absolute black paths of the underground. And as she looks about the tall trees that yet enclose their path, she finds herself longing yet again for the dangers of her youth. Though vicious and perhaps levels more dangerous than most they might find in the forest, they are still the dangers she knows.
"The caverns await us, but they are still another night's travel ahead of us. Shall we try to make what speed is possible on our trek now?"
"It shall be as you wish, of course," Moonshadow says, "but why do you talk in terms of a night's travel? Is there a strong reason that we cannot move abroad in daylight?"
Lain turns to the elf with a slight ghost of an ironic smile hovering about her lips. Her gaze burns with a fire all of its own to those who could see it.
"Oh, there are many possible reasons." She replies to the query. "Perhaps it is that the darkness offers more protection from the creatures of this forest. Perhaps it is that there are enemies of mine own who would hunt us in the sun's light, but avoid the paths of the night. Perhaps it is that I am attempting to give your eyes time to garner the best of that poor vision in darkness that Abovegrounders can get. "
"Or..."
She pauses the smile becoming more ironic, holding very little real humor and no joy at all.
"Or perhaps it is that I simply to not wish to find myself blind in the midst of strangers whom I neither completely know nor truly have great reason to trust."
With that she turns back to the path and continues on.
Moonshadow follows.
A fond? smile? graces Rackham's lips, so much like her mother... He adjusts his googles and trudges on, always alert. Perhaps the bloodshed wasn't over for that night...
The rest of the night passes uneventfully.
The sun slowly begins to peek over the looming hills before them as the party comes to the edge of the forest.
Lain barely even glances at the rising sun before she seems to shudder and almost withdraw into herself.
"I do not travel with the sun is high. Thus, I choose to make my rest here within the cover of the forest."
Moonflower settles down for a little rest among some soft mosses. "Wake me when it's my turn to stand watch," she says.
Rackham slinks down against a tree and wraps his cloak around him.