Thread: Hunted

You ought throw somethin' up Esyel. Promise ya flat out, you write something on here, I'll read it. And the rest of the tale... Alaric, you know we can't stay here. Not even long enough to bury the dead. What else would you have us do? She had expected him to be spitting in fury at the suggestion, but he seemed just...drained. Leave. Run. Set the house on fire if you want to do something, give them a pyre. But he's counting on us to stay here. Pinned. Exposed. And he'll make a move on us while we're working. Probably go to finish off Dom, or hit Amelia. We have to keep running. Alaric was quiet. Let's see how Dom is doing. I'll make the call then. Clara nodded. It was a better answer than she'd expected. Dom was sleeping, Amelia sitting in the middle of a circle of salt beside him, faint power glowing around them. Clara was stunned. Amelia had been reluctant to use any magic, even to heal Dom. The strain on her, and the fact she needed to expend the ritual items made it risky. He was that bad? Clara asked quietly. Amelia nodded. The circle can keep him with us, but the wound is showing signs of infection. I'm doing all I can, but if I purge the wound... You'll be too worn out to move. Amelia nodded. What do you think? She asked quietly. Amelia closed her eyes, drawing in a few deep breaths, the circle pulsing brighter. When she opened her eyes, Clara didn't like what she saw. I think we're all going to die here Clara. And I think you know that. Clara was quiet. You might make it you know. Leave us and run for it. I wouldn't blame you. Alaric wouldn't either. maybe you can find some of the Delvers, bring help. They'd never make it in time. And he might just take me in the open. But you could hold him off. Maybe. Amelia, he's better than me. He's a weapon master. I might be able to hold him off for a little while, but...I can't beat him. Amelia nodded. Then we are all going to die here. Clara was quiet, but nodded. Amelia actually smiled. Then let's meet our end bravely. Clara felt her own smile coming back. That was something she could do. Dom was breathing easier now, and Amelia looked a little drawn, a bit pale. She'd poured a lot of herself into getting Dom back on his feet. The wound was mostly closed, but not enough to be safe. he needed more rest, more magic, or both. And everyone knew that they were running out of both. Clara had gone about the house, preparing things. She was agreeing with Amelia. They weren't making it out of here. Not alive. They needed to do everything they could to try and bring the Drow down with them. They were sitting in the main room, waiting. They knew that the Drow was out there, they knew that he'd be waiting for them to either make a break for it, or trying to find a way to fortify the area. Alaric looked like he was asleep, but Clara knew better. He was meditating, keeping himself focused, preparing himself. Clara loved Alaric dearly at this moment, because he'd dismissed the idea of their death. He still believed that they were going to survive. Clara had moved around the house, setting small noise traps. Not enough to set off much sound, but enough that they might have a chance of noting that something was coming. The Drow was quiet, they'd learned that to their peril. All they could do was to wait, and prepare, and kept themselves steady. Every minute counted now. Every minute gave them a chance to rest a little more, recover just a little more strength. And they would need all they could get. Hours rolled by. Clara let out her breath slowly, and heard a faint tinkling. That was the tiny chimes of glass she'd set up, hanging in the northern room of the house. She gave a low snort, like someone snoring. The other gathered themselves. It was going to be time. When he came, he came in hard. Not a stupid creature, the Drow knew he'd been made. The door to the room burst apart, his boot sending it flying. Alaric was on his feet, glad that the house had been built with high ceilings, letting him use his weapon of choice well. The halberd in his hands whirled around in an arc, knocking aside the dagger that had been thrown by the Drow, before chopping down in a vicious strike. Unlike nearly every other Drow that Clara had fought, this one was using a long bladed sword, one that took two hands. The gentle, sloping curve of the blade was beautiful, graceful, and looked entirely lethal. That weapon met Alaric's with a thunderous clash, sparks flying from the impact as they collided. The metal of each weapon held, though the edges shone brightly, showing that they were wrapped in layers of protective magic. It was also likely that each weapon would be much more deadly. The Drow was fast, his blade blurring in motion as he bounded away from Alaric, coming after Amelia. The healer stood ready, spear in her hands, and stabbed out at him as he approached. His sword bat the weapon aside almost contemptuously and swept in for a killing stroke. Clara was there, sparks flying as she parried on the heavily reinforced bracers on her arms, before spreading her arms out, the twinned axes there sweeping out for a kill shot. The Drow was simply not there, moving in a rapid blitz to go after the barely moving Dom. The thief rolled back, wincing as he did, and ended on his knees, aiming a crossbow. He fired at the Drow, the weapon shifting, reloading automatically, and he fired again. The Drow dodged one, and the other hit his chest. No chain mail here, but a hard plate of mithril, and the bolt failed to penetrate. The Drow was smiling now, looking as though he was enjoying this now, his eyes blazing red. He had to check his momentum as Alaric came in with another swing. More sparks, and Clara moved in behind him, looking to check his movement, while Dom peppered him with crossbow fire. The Drow was a whirlwind of motion, blade moving in wide sweeping arcs that both intercepted attacks and made powerful strikes. Alaric was hard pressed to keep himself in striking range of the foe, while Clara seemed adept at avoiding the blows. She managed to land a strike that drew blood, a wound on the elbow of her foe. The Drow spun away, his blade held tightly to his body, warding him from blows. He got enough distance from his attackers that he was able to make a powerful cross-swing that would have taken a person in half. Dom aim carefully, and fired another bolt. This one managed to find the gap in the shoulder of the armour, adn punch deeply. The drow grunted, and took another step back, a hand going to his wound, ripping the bolt free. Blood arced in the air, and the Drow whipped his sword up, running the blade through the falling blood, and then lunging back in. They moved in, expecting the Drow to hit and move back out, but this time, he simply bulled in. Alaric parried frantically, giving ground furiously, before Clara interposed herself, taking the defence letting Alaric begin an attack. Clara used her smaller size to good advantage, keeping under teh swings from Alaric and springing back up to keep him protected. Her arms were beginning to throb as she continued to block. There were deep score marks on the heavy bracers, testament to the power of his blows. The halberd finally landed a blow, landing on the shoulder of the Drow. Blood flowed, and the Drow staggered. Clara rushed in, axes swinging in a doubled cross blow, ready to fell the Drow. It was more than she had hoped for, this opening. As her foe shifted his stance, she felt a sinking feeling. Her eagerness for the kill had opened her defences, and she'd taken the bait. The Drow leapt back, arms extended, and stopped cold, a stop-thrust. That long blade hammered into the hardened leather on Clara's chest, the wickedly sharp point piercing it like it was paper. Her own momentum betraying her, Clara impaled herself on the blade. Clara! Alaric shouted, leaping forward to try and reach her. Clara spat blood, dropping her axes as she saw the Drow smile. Her hands went to the blade, gripping it, keeping it in her, trapping it. She smiled back, blood on her teeth .As Alaric moved, seeing what she was doing, giving him the opening, the Drow reacted. He twisted the blade within her, and pushed. The aburpt change of direction unblanced Clara, sending her backwards. An armoured boot kicked her free of the blade, her hands shredding on the sharp edges. Ducking under the halberd swing, teh Drow rose, transfixing Alaric through the abdomen. The warrior cried out as the Drow ripped the blade out to the side, adn turned. Dom was relaoding the crossbow frantically, while Amelia seemed to be in the midst of a spell of some kind. Ignoring the healer, the Drow advanced on Dom. Amelia opened her eyes. She not used much magic in a long time, and the work on Dom had been taxing. But then, she'd not always been a healer. She'd turned her back on that life a long time ago, but here and now, she needed it. As the Drow moved in on Dom, she stepped forward, he hand extended, adn the room shook with relesed power. Her hadn landed on the head of the Drow, her senses extended, and she dove straight in. She'd tear him apart, shred his mind, and leave him a vegetable. She opened her minds eye, and looked. What Amelia found was not what she had expected. She had expected the same thing she normally found in the mind of a Drow. Cold steel and ice, a calculating machine, intelligent and balanced, with a merciless bend to it all. Amelia felt herself screaming at what she found. There was no calculating machine, only a maelstrom of blood, a cacaphony of sound and light, pure chaos and fury, blended with the raucous joy of the slaughter. Amelia had no idea what to even do with this kind fo a mind. It didn't work anything like a mind that she knew. Knowledge dawned on her. She couldn't damage his mind. It had been broken and lost for a long time by now. The Drow staggered as he felt the invasive magic worm into his mind. Eye blazing, he lunged forward, his sword forgotten, laying on the floor, and seized Amelia's face in his hands. His thumbs jabbed in, pushing through her eyes. Her voice rose with a shriek that set Dom's teeth on edge as she was born tot he floor. The Drow kept his grip on her head, and began to slam it ino the floor. Dom had both hadns on the dropped sword, marvelling at how light it was, how easily it moved through the air. He turned to strike the Drow down, just as he heard the sickening crush of a broken skull. He'd been too slow, his still tender wound keeping him from moving quickly. The Drow turned, his hand swinging wide adna brace of long knives flying out to catch Dom in the chest. As the thief hit the wall, the Drow advnced on him, plucking his sword free, and sliding it into the sheathe on his back. And now, little man, the fun begns. The voice was light, but somehow thick with menace. Dom knew exactly what kind of death was waiting for him, and reached for the knife in his chest. Pulling it free, he rammed it home into his own eye. The Drow sighed, looking at the dead all around him. Gone now, adn not a morsel left for his enjoyment. But then, this excursion to the surface world had been nothing if not...stimulating. He'd been gone for too long, he knew that he'd be needed back in the city. With a smile, he set to work, cutting the heart from the newly dead warriors. He ran his tongue along the blade of th knife he'd used, revelling in the taste of the mingled blood. He felt his head swoon slightly, all his senses seeming to ignite at the taste, before his face spread in a grin. For just a few more moments, thigns made sense, adn life was good. he started the walk back to teh tunnels that would lead him home. Perhaps he'd find some other...entertainment while he was on the way.