Tales of Faerun

[Flipout6]

"I can tell you right now that Annette's just going to stay in her room and examine that river water all day." Marie explained. "She'll stay here, and I'll stay here with her. I'm...anxious to part with her, right now."

 

"S'alright. Me, I'm hung over as anything, I'll have to stay here. Sorry, Amendale." Sybille mumbled, almost slurring. He nodded in acknowledgement.

 

"I'm with you." Weyland answered simply, standing up and taking his place beside his friend. He heard Dri agree to do so as well (at least, if "heard" was the appropriate term) and stand beside him. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'd prefer you stay here, Dri. Even thinking about something happening to you..." She voiced her protests inside his head, but he persuaded her to stay behind with gentle words and an even gentler kiss to the forehead.

 

Arland leaned against a wall, arms crossed, but it was clear he intended to go as well. His explanation was, "I said I'd gut the one responsible, and this is the way to do it." Was all he said.

 

Once they had everyone gathered together and prepared in full armor and prepared for a day's trek, Rhaine gave the order for them to head out. It was still very early morning and much of Earthheart was dark, dimly lit by torches attended by the guards instead of the deceased who normally would make it their duty. Outside it wasn't much better; it was completely overcast, with dark clouds hanging low over the land from horizon to horizon, threatening rain. Wind blew audibly in from the west, howling as it broke against Earthheart and sifted through its dead streets.

 

The march to the village up the river was led by Amendale, who knew where they were likely to have settled even without the black smoke trail drifting up from the horizon and disappearing into the clouds. There wasn't much in the way of lighting for most of the journey until several hours had past, wherein the land was gradually illuminated by a uniform greyness and the wind left as chilly as it was likely to get in this part of the world.

 

The road they followed led into a sparse forest of trees with thick, yellow trunks and shin-high golden grass. With the canopies of the trees blocking some of the already-sparse light, suddenly it seemed as if the entire Rift was starved for illumination. The smoke trail, rather than becoming hard to see, appeared even more ominously in the sky as they approached it. The scent of a foul rot permeated the air alongside the more ordinary smell of burnt wood.

 

They seemed to come upon the village out of nowhere, if it could be called a "village" any longer. No more than fifteen buildings once stood in the large clearing that housed the settlement, and of them only two remained even partially intact. The river, deceptively corrupted and lethal, lay on the far side of the village about two hundred feet ahead of them. The smoking, blackened husks of small houses marred the landscape, upon which not a single blade of grass dared grow. Some fires still burned; small things, leftovers from much greater blazes that consumed entire households and- Amendale swallowed - the people within them. The soil was black with scorches and congealing blood trails. Bodies were everywhere, dozens of them, but even from here Amendale could tell that not everybody was accounted for, nor could he detail what their causes of death were.

 

Black shapes hovered over the corpses until, as one, they darted away and vanished without a trace.

 

"We're not alone." Arland stated.

 

"What were those?"

 

"I don't know." Amendale stated, eyes hard and expression stoney. He took a step forward. "But I intend to find out."

Edited September 22, 2014 by Flipout6

[AurianaValoria1]

Conall smelled death before he saw it. The smoldering ruins of the village and the sight of the decay and destruction made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. In his mind's eye, he could see a similar scene from his boyhood, and it became as fresh in his memory as if it had happened yesterday...

 

He shook his head to clear it, and at Arland's warning, he drew Ariel, the celestial blade giggling softly as it predicted imminent combat.

 

"Murder," the werewolf paladin murmured, his voice barely above a growling whisper. "Whoever has done this will see justice. This, I vow."

 

"Agreed," Zorica confidently added, stepping forth with both adamantine swords held at the ready, "This will not go unpunished." The half-drow's amber eyes flashed as she beheld the barely recognizable corpses of the elven nomads.

 

Rhaine felt a supernatural, icy shiver run down the length of her spine as they approached the ruins. It was a feeling similar to that she had experienced when confronting the menacing King of Shadows, what seemed like a lifetime ago. The familiar aura that enveloped her like a shroud was the oppressive weight of dread and the sapping sense despair...emotions that only the most powerful of undead creatures could bring to the mortal world. The Doomguide drew Touch of Death, and the bastard sword sang its confirmation of her suspicions with a magically glimmering edge.

 

Then, she beheld the mutilated and scorched bodies of the elven clan; they had not stood a chance of escaping whatever evil had befallen them. Some appeared to have been in the process of running away when they were cut down, judging from the positions of their reaching limbs. Others had been ruthlessly torn apart at the merciless talons of some beast as they tried to protect the rest. There was no doubt in the Doomguide's mind that these people had suffered terribly in their final moments, both indescribable horror and unspeakable agony. As Rhaine quickly absorbed this information, an extraordinary rage filled her heart, bubbling forth like lava from within and temporarily stifling her ability to speak.

 

When Amendale fearlessly continued on into the village itself, however, her voice at last came out in an abrupt, yet firm, warning: "Undead."

 

The tone was an odd, almost metallic sound...and unknown to her, her eyes had gone solid white. As her gaze scanned her surroundings for any signs of disturbance, she felt that she would lose control over her own body at any moment...as if her fury at the injustice of this massacre threatened to send her into a berserker-like rage at any moment. And yet her exterior was coolly calm and collected, effectively masking the turmoil that boiled relentlessly inside of her, her movements nearly robotic as she strode forward with resolute intent. To outside observers, the Doomguide seemingly possessed all the focus and demeanor of a great cat on the hunt...and hunting she was.

 

This again? her consciousness asked, the question faint in the back of her mind. She recognized that this was the selfsame change that had slowly descended upon her when Maydiira was slain and when she had confronted Sir Marko in Iljak. The world around her was becoming unnaturally sharp and clear, and the movements of everyone else seemed so dreadfully slow - the effect of the adrenaline that was now pumping through her veins as it was propelled by both the storm of her passion and the anticipation of battle. Even though she knew that this tempest of feelings was a natural accompaniment to her outrage at injustice, it still frightened her a bit, and she willed herself to maintain complete mental control this time, not wanting that almost out-of-body experience to happen again as it had when Ravenna returned...

 

Zorica, concerned with this sudden predatory behavior that had come over Rhaine, spoke quietly, "Ah...milady...?"

 

Rhaine bit back a sharp reply and merely responded with a hissing, "Shh!" Their safety relied on her ability to sense when the undead - which were undoubtedly close - would react to their presence. And it was certainly not a matter of if, but when...

Edited September 22, 2014 by AurianaValoria1

[Flipout6]

Weyland shrugged his shield off of his back and drew his sword as inconspicuously as he could. A swirling mass of flame instantaneously surrounded each of Arland's blades as he drew them, whereas Amendale's hand and forearm were suddenly ablaze with magical fire, and the tension in his posture warned that he was more than prepared to lash out with them.

 

It was deathly silent as they stalked their way further into the village. The fires crackled and there was the faint sound of armor clanking as they moved, stepping over horribly mutilated corpses and wreckage, but that was it. Amendale glanced towards one of the structures; there in the center lay a burned corpse, surrounded by dark stains. He didn't see it in detail, but it looked as if something had....melted the very skin off of whichever of Amendale's old friends that used to be. His expression darkened before a sound caught his attention.

 

The first attack came out of nowhere. Weyland made not a sound as he brought his shield up and something large and grey slammed into it with enough force to force the warrior back a step. The creature was forced to a dead stop by the strength of the mithral bulwark and tumbled to the ground, flailing with a screech in the dirt until it was silenced by the tip of Weyland's blade, the electricity sparking through its body with a crack that left it smoking and twitching, but obviously lifeless.

"Ghast." Weyland identified. Indeed, the wretched mass of putrid, gnarly grey flesh was a textbook example of the creatures; bald, hunchbacked and obviously predatory, with sharp claws and teeth and red eyes with a glow rapidly fading.

 

"More of them!" Arland shouted. "Something else in there, too!"

 

The new creatures were almost featureless. Humanoid and silvery, with blank white eyes and smooth skin, Rhaine was quick to identify them. "Bodaks! Don't make eye contact!" She warned.

 

"With any of them." Amendale added, just loud enough to be heard.

 

Arland opted not to charge them as he was tempted to and instead stayed close to the others, glancing downwards enough that he could roughly see everything but wasn't likely to drop dead where he stood for glimpsing their eyes. They came from all directions, with ghasts leaping from the tops of the wreckage while bodaks stepped from the shadows. There weren't many to start with, but their numbers were rapidly growing.

 

With a shout, Amendale shot a column of fire towards a pair of ghasts, lighting them both aflame before he conjured a conflagaration that exploded with a bang and utterly destroyed the two of them and at least one bodak. He glanced sideways, his healer's instinct proving stronger than his rage as he checked on everyone. Weyland was holding off a whole pack of them, with three creatures savagely battering at him as he held them back with his shield. He angled the bulwark sideways so that it was flat like a plate and swung it sideways as hard as he could, the narrow edge slamming into them with incredible force. A ghast went down as its skull caved in on itself and a quick follow-up with his blade split another in two, spilling its guts into the dirt. The third, a bodak, nearly caught him with a deadly gaze before his boot connected with its chest and knocked it backwards. A quick melee ensued and he decapitated it cleanly.

 

Arland, meanwhile, impaled something as it leapt at him- he couldn't tell what it was- and threw it into the dirt, finishing it with a graceless downward stroke with his blade that split the skull in half from the top. Spotting one moving to attack Rhaine from behind, he caught up to it and slammed his shoulder into it, knocking it into the dirt before he stomped its brains out with his boot.

 

"No, stlarn you." He spat. "Messing with her's MY job."

Edited September 23, 2014 by Flipout6

[AurianaValoria1]

Zorica stood for but a moment in slight shock at the scene that was unfolding before her very eyes. Her experience with undead was limited to the lesser, more common kinds - skeletons, zombies, and the like. Valthanarax was the first major undead force she had faced, and for some reason, not even the dracolich seemed to be as intimidating as these horrid creatures that had ambushed them. Perhaps it was their sheer ugliness that was so appalling...or perhaps it was the awful intelligence they appeared to possess, almost pack-like in quality. As they emerged from the deep shadows of the ruins in a steady stream, they attempted to stalk and isolate members of the party, and this behavior was unlike any she had seen before from her church's hated foes.

 

Shaking her head rapidly, the half-drow forced herself to move, and she launched into a series of spinning attacks, slashing at two ghasts and whirling at a bodak to stab it in the chest. She was careful to avoid the latter's empty white gaze as she danced out of its reach, continuing to inflict bloodless wounds on her three targets. The ghasts screeched unintelligible words in the elvish tongue, and she retorted with a caustic taunt, "Yeah, and your mother smelled worse than you!"

 

The stench that they carried with them was indeed terrible, multiplying the already-extant odor of death and decay. Conall's nose wrinkled as he charged in, swinging Ariel in a wide arc and easily decapitating a ghast with the holy sword. No sooner had he done so than two more rushed at him from the side, tearing at his armor with vicious claws. He slammed the pommel into the forehead of one and spun to plunge the blade into the heart of another, Ariel laughing maniacally all the while.

 

Rhaine's focused fury fueled the power that rushed forth at her command, the magic searing through her veins as she was slightly lifted off of the ground. Her already white eyes pulsated brightly with the strength of the spell she was harnessing, and her voice reverberated with an ominous tone as she cried, "Kneel at the throne of my lord, unclean ones!"

 

A bright light suddenly broke the thick cloudcover above them and let through a dazzling beam of sunlight that was concentrated on a small group of shadowed ghasts and bodaks, which lingered near the most intact structure in the vicinity. The holy blast shattered the fragile wood to splinters and tore great chunks of greyish flesh from the undead, slaying the weaker ones and leaving the surviving ones smoking and severely incapacitated.

 

As she was returned to her feet, the Doomguide met Arland's eyes with her own eerie gaze, and she gave him a devilish grin before flinging her arms wide and unleashing her power to Turn those undead that were unfortunate enough to be with in twenty feet of her. The resulting shockwave of blinding white power slammed into the undead and pushed them backwards, even stunning a few. She then followed with an incantation of Undeath's Eternal Foe, so that her companions would no longer have to fear the bodaks' deathly gaze, at least for a few minutes. The shimmering magic washed over the companions in soft red, purple, and blue hues, so that they shone brilliantly in contrast to the horrid grey-brown death that surrounded them.

[Flipout6]

Amendale, glancing around to check on his companions again, caught a flash of movement from Zorica, just barely glimpsing her unarmored back. Fearing a strike from he rear like the one she had already suffered, he rushed to prepare a Shield of Faith spell, which would at least save her from glancing blows. Just as he began a Stoneskin spell, a bodak closed in on him with incredible speed. Amendale grappled with it and was quickly being overpowered. In the struggle, he made eye contact with it; he felt a pang from his heart as it skipped a beat, whether because of Rhaine's protection or his own fear he didn't know. But instead of Amendale dropping on the spot, something yanked the bodak off of him. Weyland's sword made short work of it.

 

"Get up!" The warrior barked as he moved to intercept another. Once the moon elf sprung to his feet, he began murmuring the component to an Undeath to Death spell....

 

Arland focused sharply on his technique and the battle, keeping himself on the move constantly, his blades a fluid, fiery inferno of mayhem and destruction that felled a good number and kept him out of their reach. With his help, Rhaine remained relatively unencumbered by assailants of her own. One, two, three he cut down, and their numbers seemed to thin. With Amendale and Rhaine casting spells left and right, he was sure they'd have some breathing room soon enough.

 

And then something moved. Something big.

 

It started out as a flicker behind a column of smoke until it loomed just beyond the veil that concealed it. With it came a terrible, deep rumbling and the ghasts and bodaks seemed to assault them with renewed vigor, despite their depleted numbers. Then a gigantic, mottled arm darted out from behind the smoke.

"Connall!" Weyland shouted.

 

The.... thing behind the smoke snatched the werewolf up in one gigantic hand and threw him, propelling him into one of the few-standing buildings with enough force to send him through the wall and bring down some of the rickety, damaged structure on top of him. It stepped through the grey veil that had until then obscured it to reveal it in its entirety.

 

Its skin was a mottled, rotten blackish-grey and tough-looking. Its lengthy arms and legs ended in gigantic hands and feet tipped with wicked claws a foot long, with teeth at least half that length protruding from its dark maw of a mouth. Its ribs stuck out of its chest as if pried open, and where the heart should have been, instead the likeness of a person remained, curled into a fetal position. The features were contorted as if in agony, but the eyes were wide open...and glowing a baleful yellow light. Amendale's eyes were drawn to that likeness, because the long hair, pronounced cheekbones and soft jawline were familiar...

 

"Mother?" He breathed. His energy felt as if it were suddenly sapped from him, his heart sank....but his will did not flag. He didn't scream or shout or cry. He took a breath, swallowed and shook, but went back to casting. A finished Undeath to Death spell tore into the remaining undead ranks, instantly destroying all of the remaining ghasts and a handful of bodaks, leaving perhaps ten left.

 

"By Tymora...what in the hells is that?!?!" Arland asked as the giant began to attack.

[AurianaValoria1]

Zorica thanked Amendale for his aid by staying close to the elf, backing up to him so that he could not be interrupted from behind. She fended off two particularly persistent bodaks, keeping them at bay with a flurry of sword strikes, until...

 

He spoke a faint word that she barely caught over the din of combat, and then followed with a stunningly bright spell. The two bodaks fell easily to his magic, having already been wounded, and the half-drow's attention was turned to whatever the elf was addressing...

 

Her mouth dropped open and her amber eyes were as wide as saucers. The monstrous creature that towered before them was...

 

Gods above...

 

She felt her stomach flop and her heart leap to her throat in panic, even as a venomous fury coursed through her limbs. It was something out of a nightmare - a horrifying abomination unlike anything she had ever seen. A soul was trapped within it, pressed against the thin flesh of its abdomen, and for the first time, Zorica felt she at last knew the utter disgust of her church's patron at this thing that had been created from terrifying death and destruction. She at last knew what it was that her brothers and sisters truly fought against...

 

The half-drow had always been reluctant to use magic; even though she was knowledgeable of a few divine spells, she rarely used them, as she much preferred to rely on her own devices for survival rather than to lean on the power of a god for support. Now, though, things were different. She touched her fingers to her blades and muttered a string of barely audible words. The adamantine swords at once glowed with a soft, silvery light, and she immediately felt some of her fear banished from her mind.

 

Conall had only just turned at Weyland's warning when he found himself unceremoniously tossed through a ruined building by an astonishingly powerful force. Pain exploded in his head and shoulders as he went through the wall and some of the rubble fell atop him, nearly burying him in smoking timber...

 

...He abruptly leaped back through the brand new opening in the wall as a fully-transformed werewolf, fur blindingly white against the smoke and darkness, electric blue eyes fiery with intense rage. The Selunite jumped upon the abomination with reckless abandon, claws raking and tearing at its leathery flesh, teeth sinking deep into its neck.

 

Rhaine's already formidable fury threatened to spiral out of her control at the sight of their newest foe. The Doomguide knew at once what it was, even though this was the first time she had ever encountered one. These foul creations trapped the souls of the dead they consumed, the faces of their victims imprinted on their abdomens like morbid trophies. Her voice trembled with anger as she answered Arland's inquiry.

 

"Devourer."

 

Unfortunately, the remaining bodaks saw fit to turn their attention to her, swarming her like ravenous wolves. Rhaine responded by calling a Bond of Fatal Touch, shouting a challenge to the undead that dared to confront her directly as her sword lit with eerie green flame.

 

"Kelemvor take you!"

 

She used Touch of Death like a spear, grasping it with both hands - one on the hilt and the other on the blade - and thrusting it into the stomach of the nearest bodak. There, it discharged its pent-up power, and the green flame consumed the foul creature like dry parchment. Two of the others, however, took the opportunity to simultaneously slam into her side, and they forcefully knocked her into the dirt. The Doomguide quickly rolled to a kneeling position, but she found the pack of bodaks advancing on her fast...

 

"Uhh, Amendale?"

 

Zorica spoke nervously as she caught more movement out of the corner of her eye and saw another one of the hulking abominations headed straight for them...

[josh900]

Meanwhile in the dungeons of Earthheart. The Dwarven jailer who had watched over the worse that the city could throw at him, had met his match. "BY MORADIN'S CROTCH HAIRS!!! WOULD YOU SHUT YER MOUTH FOR FIVE BLOODY SECONDS!?!?!?" He screamed at the incredibly noisy occupant of the nearby cell.

 

"But's it's true! The last time I was in a dwarf city like this I got stuck in a blacksmiths shop for three whole day! I ended up having to chisel my out but ended up accidentally setting the whole building on fire, but what was REEAAALLY funny was that the front door was unlocked the entire time, I was just turning the nob the wrong way. Boooy was the owner maaaaad, it wasn't anything like how it was this time with the baker, how was I supposed to know those cakes would end up in my pockets? It's not like I MEANT to take them or anything! What do you think I am? A thief or something?!? I WOULD NEVER STEAL ANYTHING! NOT EVER!"

 

"I swear I'ma kill this halfling if he- ." The jailer started to grumble but was quickly cut off.

 

"I'M NOT A HALFING! I'M A KENDER!!"

[Flipout6]

Arland growled and charged the pack of bodaks rushing Rhaine, coming in from the side and slamming into the first one with his shoulder. While his siblings perhaps would have made a much more powerful entrance, the force was still sufficient enough to send the bodak stumbling away while Arland tore into the pack, slashing and cutting and impaling with both blades in a whirlwind of fire and mithril. He set several of them on fire, and those ones in particular he tried to force into others so the flames would spread. Spinning and swinging at roughly head-level, Arland lucked out and instantly slew two of them when the Anarchist's blades sailed through their rotten flesh, shattering skulls and destroying brains. They toppled over and landed in the grass; one was aflame, but with no grass to burn the only way the fire spread was through contact with other dry flesh.

 

The bodaks were quick to counter, attacking him as a pack that battered him severely. He was thumped and clawed and punched and scraped, but he hit right back. The fire took its toll on the crowd; one of them burned so badly that it collapsed on the spot and died there with another quickly following. Arland sliced a chunk out of an arm that reached out to grab him, leaving it hanging on by a few putrid hamstrings and a lump of bone and forced another back when he pivoted around on his ankle to watch his rear and kicked it squarely in the chest, sending it tumbling. Another came at him from the side so blindingly fast that Arland barely had time to prepare a defense before it raked its claws across his face, a blow that cut him wide open the temple to the jaw. Arland shouted and stumbled backwards into the grabbing arms of the pack. He managed to throw one over his shoulder and stomp its brains into the dirt before he was dragged to the ground by the rest of them and swarmed. Quickly disarmed of one of his swords, he used the other to cut the hamstrings out from one of them and hit it squarely in the temple with the pommel of his remaining weapon twice, killing it, before one fell on top of him and kept swiping again and again at him. He let go of his second blade and grappled with it, wrenching its head sideways and snapping its neck. It fell on him, pinning him to the ground.

 

Out of the half of them left of the original ten, three of them were still trying to kill Rhaine instead of him. That left two of them for him to deal with instead of five. That's where his luck ended, however. The two bodaks still trying to kill him did some damage in the attempt. An unseen blow hit him in the head and his head snapped back, slamming into the hard ground, and suddenly his entire world went black.

 

Amendale did not allow his sudden shock at the appearance of a second Devourer faze him, and immediately he reacted. Muttering the makings of a spell through gritted teeth and moving with jerky, almost erratic movements, he summoned a vortex of fire from the very sky, much like he had with Sana. It descended instantaneously upon the massive creature, wreathing it in flames through which its silhouette was barely visible...but it kept coming. His eyes narrowed to slits as he ran through his options.

 

Weyland, meanwhile, having had anything assailing him finished with Amendale's Undeath to Death spell, turned his attention to the biggest threat he saw: the behemoth that had attacked Connall. He raised his shield and challenged it with a shout, taking the brunt of a swipe from its claws with his shield and stumbling a few steps. It hit him again, sending him reeling; it was incredibly strong, even stronger than its immense size would suggest. He shook his head to clear it just in time to see its foot snap out and connect solidly with him, knocking him onto his back and sending him sliding so far through the dirt that he actually crashed through the underbrush at the edge of the clearing, dazed. It took him a moment to recover, and when he did, he knew immediately that his shield arm and several ribs had been broken. He forced himself to his feet, seething with pain, and continued towards it.

 

"Amendale, I need healing!" He announced. The elf nodded, and began casting again.

 

Weyland's limping charge towards the Devourer turned into a full sprint when Amendale's magic washed over him, and he ducked underneath another swipe of the creature's claws and managed to maneuver his way behind its legs. He drove his sword through the Devourer's kneecap, wrenching it from side to side in an effort to do as much physical damage as he could, and pulled it out just in time to dive out of the way as it tried to step on him and squash him like a human would a spider. But his damage had been done; it was much more unsteady on its feet. Under the relentless assault given by Connall, it actually toppled over and crashed into the ruins of a house, crushing and mutilating the burned body beneath it with its sheer weight. With a cheer, Weyland rushed it, blade raised.

[AurianaValoria1]

Rhaine jumped to her feet as the bodaks were drawn away from her - bit by bit - until only three were left to harass her. She called another Bond of Fatal Touch and promptly plunged her sword into the abdomen of her nearest foe, the undead creature lighting up like kindling as his fellows had done before him. One of the remaining two then landed a stunning blow on her left temple, slapping her face sideways to a dangerous degree and breaking open the skin on her cheekbone, just below the corner of her eye. The Doomguide was thrown to the ground again with the force, her face stinging from the strike and her head whirling from the impact. She managed to roll just as it was about to pounce on top of her, and she cast a readied spell right into its eyes - Searing Light, a singular white-hot and blindingly brilliant ray that caused the rotten flesh to smoke as it flared and hissed on contact. The bodak recoiled with a shriek, and Rhaine quickly answered with a Flame Strike that consumed both it and his comrade in a blazing inferno, instantaneously transforming them into putrid ash.

 

It was then that she noticed Arland was in trouble. The last two bodaks had him pinned in the dirt, and he appeared unresponsive.

 

"Arland!" Rhaine shouted, fear mixing with her adrenaline-fueled fury. When he did not answer her, she leaped forward, slamming her blade into one of the bodaks from behind. She wrenched it out and stabbed it again as it wailed, following up with a powerful horizontal strike that cleaved it almost in half below the ribs. Though it was quick to perish, collapsing in a fetid heap, its comrade was swift to retaliate; its claws tore along the limb of her right wing and came away with a handful of bloodied black feathers that floated to the ground like tattered ebony leaves. The Doomguide cried aloud to the heavens and her power answered as a Hammer of the Gods, speeding from the sky like a golden meteor and slamming into her violator with explosive energy. Holes were blasted in its greyish flesh, and as it screeched in pain, she finished it off with a mighty overhand from Touch of Death, slicing it open from shoulder to hip.

 

Sensing a brief moment to check on Arland, she scrambled to the Grey brother's side and shook him fiercely as she knelt and bent over him, "Arland! Arland, are you all right?" She channeled both a Heal and a Restoration spell into him in hopes of sealing his wounds and purging him of any disease the bodaks might have carried.

 

Meanwhile, Zorica took the opportunity to leap into action. As Amendale's conflagration consumed the undead monstrosity before them, she took a running jump with both swords poised, the adamantine blades sinking into its chest, just above the imprint of the trapped soul in its body. The half-drow then kicked herself off of it and back flipped on the way down, landing a few feet away and immediately lunging at its legs with scissor-like swipes. Its massive claws swung dangerously close to her head, but she ducked just in time, answering with vicious slashes on its thighs.

 

"This thing isn't showing signs of slowing down!" she yelled, worry evident in her tone.

 

Conall had to move quickly to avoid being crushed under the weight of the Devourer that had attacked him. He was grateful for Weyland's assistance, however. Even though his beastly form gave him more strength, it did not protect him as much as his armor, and he was beginning to suffer a number of wounds both large and small from the long, filthy claws of the undead creature. His white fur was staining red in places...and yet, this did not seem to slow him down. At least, not now.

 

"We will end you," he taunted, his voice a wolfish growl as he tore at the Devourer's head with his own teeth and claws, long strips of leathery flesh being pulled away from the skull in ribbons.

Edited September 30, 2014 by AurianaValoria1

[Flipout6]

"Connall, move." Weyland ordered. The werewolf obliged, and the warrior lunged forwards and plunged his sword through the Devourer's forehead and buried it up to the crossguard. Even so, the creature attempted to claw at him before the electricity that raced through its body incited muscle spasms powerful enough to prevent it putting up any kind of defense while its brain burned as volt upon volt arced through at the speed of light. Only when he was certain that it would move no more did Weyland yank the blade out with a squelch and a zip. "I love lightning. It kills everything." Weyland laughed shakily, not out of emotional fallout but rather exhaustion and the soreness of his ribs. "Let's go finish this."

 

Amendale threw spell after offensive spell at the Devourer in front of him, scorching it with fire and holy magic alike, ripping at it and tearing it to shreds, peeling muscle from bone and reducing flesh to ashes. And yet still it did not go down; in fact, it closed the distance between the two of them with blinding speed and hit Amendale so hard that it claws sailed right through his mithril chainshirt and plating and sent him flying ten, twenty feet in a spray of blood. He landed in a heap in the dirt, squirming and delirious with pain. Lifeblood gushed from his side and pooled in the dirt around him. Without even the air in his lungs to gasp with, Amendale shuddered as he struggled to force air into his lungs and complete the casting of a healing spell, but he could not. One lung had been pierced and deflated, and he desperately tried for even the weakest healing spell to no avail. Then he remembered a snippet of his training.

 

He cleared his head, focusing as hard as he could, and completed the motions to one of his most powerful healing spells without uttering a word, casting silently. The gaping maw that had been the hole in his side closed for the most part, but most importantly, his lung reformed itself and suddenly the sweetest air he'd ever breathed he sucked in greedily. His vision pulsed even as he finished his own healing with a second, weaker spell. He was too weak to stand and lay there in the grass, kneeling down and trying to recover. He was out of this fight.

 

The other downed combatant, Arland, came to as healing magic coursed through his body. Jolted as he opened his eyes to the grey skies above and blinked to clear his vision. Rhaine's fiery hair was the first thing he could properly make out, followed by the rest of her rather angry-looking features.

 

"You know, the last time I opened my eyes to find you hovering over me like that it ended.....much, uh....differently. You tried to stab me right afterwards, though, so I guess this is real life. Shame."

Edited September 30, 2014 by Flipout6