It All Came Tumbling Down (Vanator)

[Lariat]

There was a crunch of bone and a groan of pain as the fell across Larser's body and onto the ground in a heap. He managed to roll over on his back and reveal his young face, his eyes squinted shut in pain, his left arm cradling his right that rested limply at his side. " I didn't do anything, I'm just doing what he told me to do " he cried out rocking on the seat of his pants, his face contorted in a mask of pain. Larser, still resting on the ground looked up at Van wordlessly, relief showing clearly on his face before quickly shifting back to dread. With a shaky hand, Larser pointed to a spot just behind Van, and as if to accent this the tell tale sound of a click echoed behind him, the distinctive sound of a cross bow being loaded.

A ragged laugh echoed from behind him, the man he had seen outside was now standing slightly taller and looked much younger than he originally appeared, and now stood holding a small hand crossbow aimed directly for Vanator's center. The tip of the quarrel that rested locked and loaded in the weapon shined with a almost ethereal substance on its tip, glowing greenish in the orange light that the lantern put off. " You really should be careful of entering these underground tunnels, you never know who or what you might meet " he snorted, the light casting dark shadows over his face as he said the words with no little amount of loathing. He kept the hand holding the crossbow steady, never wavering in his aim, while his eyes seemingly focused higher on Van's face. " With just but a slight squeeze of the trigger it could all go very bad for you so I suggest you don't move. ” He took a breath and looked over at the man writhing against the ground before looking back over at the man he had in his sights. " Now finish off my associate there and then we'll talk about why you are in my tunnel? " he said with a cruel smile on his face, offering a brief nod towards the man on the ground with a crippled arm.

[Vanator]

As the figure crumpled over, seizing his injured arm, Vanator saw the young man's face. It was not the malevolent visage he had imagined it would be. The true malevolence only revealed itself when the drykas heard the sound of the crossbow being cocked. He turned slowly to face the man behind him. A muttered curse slipped from Vanator's lips as he recognized the frail man that had lead him to the tunnel, now appearing quite fit and lively. He also noted the hand crossbow aimed at his chest, and the insidiously tainted tip of it's bolt. Had he not rushed out of Endrykas with Larser, he would have donned his leather cuirass. The armor would have given him a chance against the weapon. Now, his light tunic would not stop the quarrel, and there would be no dodging it. The dilemma expounded as the armed assailant ordered Vanator to kill the man he had struck. The drykas looked down at the figure, still clutching his broken arm. It would be easy, he could cut the man's head off with his ax and end him quickly. But the young man was defenseless, and to suddenly play the minion to this mysterious man with the crossbow chafed at the proud Denusk. But was it worth his life? "How quickly does the poison on that bolt work? How quickly will the iron head drain my life? Are you willing to gamble that I cannot kill you before I am dead or incapacitated?" Looking down again at the man on the floor, Vanator raised his boot and brought it down swiftly on the broken arm with a crunch, to ensure he was not capable of turning on him. He dour gaze returned to the crossbow man. "And if you recall, you lured me into this tunnel, so I assume there is a purpose other than to kill me."

[Lariat]

He didn't answer immediately, instead he simply stared at Van, his eyes unblinking as he held the crossbow in his left hand, and his right arm out to the right, fingers spread. A greenish light blossomed in his palm, and then drifted down slowly, like a viscous liquid being poured from a beaker. It dribbled onto the floor, forming a small pool beside the man's feet, only to then disappear in the various cracks that riddled the earthen floor. Slowly, the the crossbow moved to the right of Van, and down, and a soft click resounded throughout the cavern, the bolt burying itself in the torso of the crumpled man and sparking a small fire that consumed the cloth that covered his chest for the brief moment it lasted. A cruel smile twisted its way on his lips, and he blinked slowly looked at his fallen associate, and then at Van, his motions calm as he lowered the crossbow by his side. " You should have just killed him yourself. " He said softly, his eyes though reflecting no hint of remorse for his actions. " Also I wouldn't try to rush me, unless you like rocks tumbling on your head "

Slowly the man moved a few steps backward till his back rested against the stone curve of the tunnel, and almost bored, he tossed the hand crossbow on the ground. " You were right, I have brought you here for something. You see that tunnel collapse didn't just affect you, it also managed to bar my way to something of mine I want. Besides a few large rocks I'd have to climb past, there is also a wounded and very angry glassbeak that has decided to make a stand where my flask rests. I need you to go get that for me. " His words echoed down the hall, fracturing as it rebounded off of rocks, and causing a sort of echo effect. " Go quickly, or I'll cut my loses and collapse the roof of the tunnel " he said, waving off Van with a flick of his wrist, and checking the nails of the other as if bored.

The tunnel behind him continued unbroken for a good way, but then evidence of what the sink hole had brought on became apparent in the ruins of the tunnel before him. Rocks littered everywhere and piled high some littered high, almost to the ceiling, making Van have to squeeze through the tight openings. As he progressed further on, the ceiling thankfully opened up, the bright light of the outside streaming in on this portion of the tunnel to show the lopsided slant the rush of dirt had brought into the tunnel, a hill of dirt slanting all the way up to the surface, and freedom. Before him was a unbroken section of the tunnel, half buried with dirt, but still navigable. A loud squawk sounded from inside, the injured glassbeak obviously not happy with the way things where at the present time. A silence followed as the choice hung in the balance.

[Vanator]

Vanator's body had tensed up, but he commanded his breathing to remain steady. The drykas' eyes did not linger on the deadly tip of the crossbow bolt, but on the insidiously serene eyes of the one who held the trigger. Van could not read his foe's intent, but he was assured it was malevolent. With quiet alarm, he watched the man's outstretched hand leak its liquid. Vanator knew it was djed. He had seen similar fluid in the hands of the water reimancers of his clan, though the horseman was not sure why this man poured his into the rocky ground beneath them. The gestures made him highly suspicious, he knew that water was not the only element reimancers manipulated. With unflinching features Vanator watched the man shoot his associate crumpled on the ground, the flare of flames lighting up the narrow tunnel for a moment and casting dancing shadows. The drykas knew the man was dead. Turning back to the reimancer, Vanator did entertain the thought of charging him, assured his ax would find the unarmed man easily. But the dark figures admonishment sounded sincere, and Van would not call his bluff. Instead he held his ground, and maintained his hold on his battle ax. He would bide his time, waiting for the right time to strike. The sinister fellow revealed his real purpose for luring Vanator into the crumbling tunnel. He needed a strong arm. Van's face twisted into a scowl. He had no real choice. It was not just his life in the balance, it was Larser's as well. His failure or refusal would certainly lead to the younger drykas' demise. With gritted teeth and a deadly narrowed glare, Vanator nodded in agreement. "Very well, reimancer. But no harm should come to this man, or I will take you down crumbling tunnel or not." With a reassuring glance at Larser, Vanator moved down the tunnel, scrambling over the fallen rocks and squeezing through the narrow places. He hated tunnels, and the tighter the passage the higher his anxiety, But with some effort he reached the open area. He glanced at the dirt slope leading up out of the collapsed tunnel, though thought of escape did not enter his mind. He would not leave Larser behind. Kashik would understand the risk he was taking, she was drykas. Khiara, well, she may not understand so readily why he would take the chance of leaving his wives without a husband and his son without a father. But he was confident she would come to realize it. Even if he played the coward and scrambled up the slope, surely the glassbeak would snatch him up before he was out of reach. Van move in a few steps, surveying his surroundings. The injured glassbeak sqauwked within the shadows of the tunnel on the other side. Vanator quickly scrambled to the slope, stepping up several feet, until he had some elevation. Then, the battle ax held ready in his right hand, he leaned down to scoop up a fistful of dirt with his left. A low growl emanated from his throat. "Come out here you filthy beast."

[Lariat]

From the shadows it came. A loud, primal cry came screeching down the corridor, giving shape to darkness and presenting itself as something to be avoided. The fain light pouring from the ceiling revealed a clawed foot that stepped forward, the formidable claws plainly bared for Van to see. It squawked loudly again, taking a few steps forward, its brilliant white plumage making it look almost like a ghost in the darkness. Its clear, ridged beak gleamed with hints of red, it’s albino heritage plain with the sight of the blood vessels that ran behind that sharp weapon it bore naturally.

Plain in the laws of nature was that when any beast was cornered by a enemy it feared, instinct tend to lend it the power to bring its strength to bear and then some, to be able to give it’s best efforts to prove it was worthy to live another day. Van was such a obstacle, and this glassbeak was dangerous even on the worst days. There at the bottom of the hill it waited, its eyes keen with intelligence and hate, as it prowled around at the base of the slope.

[Vanator]

The glassbeak's screech sent shivers down Vanator's spine. It was a sound every drykas feared, with good reason. Agile, lightning quick and naturally armed with talons and beak made to rend flesh without effort, the glassbeak was a killing machine. The cloaked man said this one was injured, and the horseman prayed to Caiyha that it was. As it emerged from the tunnel into the wider area, Van realized it was the very same albino beast that had drawn Larser and he out into the grass in the first place. It was agitated, obvioulsy from the shock of the quake and its tumble into the tunnels below. Injured, it would be doubly defensive and aggressive. The drykas hoped its wounds were sufficient to weaken it. The beast was wary, perhaps because of its injuries, and seemed ready to wait to discover Van's intentions. Unwilling to forfeit the advantage of higher ground, Vanator dropped the fistful of dirt, quickly switched his battle ax to his left hand and plucked the hand ax from his belt. Momentarily hefting the iron-headed weapon in his hand, he raised it over his head and, throwing his shoulders and back into the swing, slung the ax towards the glassbeak. If he could strike the animal, injuring further would be to his benefit, or it may agitate the thing into an attempt to climb the slope after Vanator.

[Lariat]

The metal whistled through the air, ending with a loud crack as it hit the hard cave ground and skittered against across the floor. A piercing shriek echoed from the glassbeak, and in a flurry of claws and feather it launched itself forward, scrambling up the slope in the bat of an eye.

Flashing forward, it's sharp hooked beak slashed at Van's chest, glancing his armor just briefly before stumbling onto it's belly, it's wounds too much for it. Thrashing on the slope it moved around snapping wildly to try and buy itself more time, but eventually when either Van's axe caved in it's skull, or its blood ran dry, it would lie still and lifeless no more a threat of the grasses.

Further in the tunnel, only shallow darkness would greet him along with the cool glint of a metal flask, forged of Isurian steel, and sealed further with glyphing runes expertly carved all across it's surface. A silent dripping echoed off the walls as what amber liquid dropped languidly off the edge of broken glass in a corner

[Vanator]

Vanator cursed under his breath as the hand ax he flung at the glassbeak missed and skidded uselessly across the tunnel floor. The hopes of further incapacitating the creature faded as the enraged beast shrieked, its cry almost deafening in the enclosed space of the partially collapsed tunnel. Vanator tried to scrambled further up the dirt slope, but stumbled in the loose soil. The glassbeak moved awkwardly, the extent of its wounds obvious in the crimson blood stains splashed across its rare white plumage. Suddenly, in a desperate final effort to unleash its rage upon some living thing, the glassbeak propelled itself up the slope, an flurry of thrashing razor-sharp beak and talons. The hook of its beak grazed Van's chest as he leaned back, the man taking the battle ax in both hands and raising it above his head. The horseman brought the honed iron head down on the glassbeak's skull at an angle, cleaving its head in two, the flailing beast suddenly fell deathly still. After Vanator yanked the weapon from the animal's split skull, its carcass slid down the incline to land in a heap at the bottom of the slope. Descending the small hill, Van retrieved his hand ax from across the hall and returned to the dead glassbeak. With the hand ax and his dagger, Van attempted to hack off the beak and a talon from each of its feet. Then he moved to the darker side of the tunnel from which the glassbeak had emerged. The smell of alcohol was prevelant, the broken bottle of booze the obvious source. Of more interest was the metal flask. Strange symbols were etched into its surface. This must be what the man with the crossbow had wanted. Van leaned down to pick it up, halting as his hand drew near. Something tugged at the back of his mind, like a subtle warning. Glyphs. Well, maybe. Van didn't know very much about them, but he knew this flask was important enough for a man to kill for, and something that valuable may deem protection of a magical nature. Vanator stepped back, instead reaching forward with the butt of the battle axe's haft, gently nudging the flask.

[Lariat]

The trophies came off with prodding, releasing their hold on the birds body in a familiar spread of gore. Blood pattering its way along the cold, silent stone of the floor it was once again silent in the tunnel, the only noise being Vanator's own breathing, and the soft dripping of the dead predator's blood. Soon there wouldn't be even that soft dripping as he neared the broken bottle of brandy and odd metallic flask, both looking very much as if they had fallen from the same shelf. Where it another man uneducated in what the steel flask carried, they might have said the aged brandy was the bigger loss, but inscribed in the complex glyphs in the way it was threw all doubt aside to the mysterious container's hidden worth. Prudently the drykas man tapped the steel flask with the butt of his axe, though if he was expecting something flashy he would be severely disappointed when the container simply slid forward uneventfully, making a small scraping sound as it went but not leaving a scratch on it's pristine surface.

"Your fine as long as you don't try to open the patching thing I believe" a familiar voice said from behind him. The man from before held his hand cross bow still at the ready, pointing it unerringly at Van as he held his perch on the hill. His robes billowed under him from a invisible wind as the man continued to watch the drykas man underneath him, and contrary to the cruel snarl his mouth wore before, there was a look of profound sadness buried deep behind the firm set of the man's jaw as he struggled to maintain a neutral expression. With a wide sweep of his left hand he motioned to the flask. "Don't let me stop you, go ahead and pick up the flask"

[Jackalope]

Vanator

Award

Skill	XP Earned	Lore Earned
Observation	+4	Chasing a Trophy
Teaching	+1	It's the Circle of Life
Riding(Horse)	+3	Sinkholes in the Sea of Grass
Battle Ax	+2	Location: Tunnel Entrance
Tactics	+2	Disabling Your Foe
Handaxe	+1	Holding the Higher Ground

Item: Albino Glassbeak Beak
Albino Glassbeak Talon x2



Notes from Jack

I really enjoyed this, if I had any idea what they were doing with it, I'd totally have picked it up. Great writing. If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can figure it out.