Quest Counter Attack!

[Ixzo]

Ixzo nodded to Azmere, raising her chin a bit higher in pride. She also thought herself the best and her ego was easily inflated that he realized it. Of course, she likely wasn't the best in all of Endrykas, she was the most skilled hunter in the group, without a doubt. With her worry over Rufio it was a relief to be able to concentrate on something. Without hesitation, she slipped from her minimal clothing. Quickly and carelessly she wrapped the leather and cotton around the axe and handed it to Azmere, looking him in the eye.

"Watch my ears, my tail." She muttered. "Please, go slow." She added, thinking of the horse's speed. She had not hunted with her Ankal enough for him to truly understand how she communicated as a cat, but he was kind with his cats, and she had learned from them that he was an avid observer, still he was human and therefore naturally oblivious to most things. She could only hope the rest of the group would listen as well, or at least follow his lead.

Ixzo did not miss Merevaika's aggravation, but she didn't pay it no mind, uncertain of its source. Still unable to resist, she winked at the Drykas provocatively, unsure if the brunette caught it or not, and allowed herself to shift, missing the reaction of the Drykas she once fought with.

After only a tick of the senseless void that her mind receded to while her body changed form, Ixzo was quickly adjusting to her new senses. Sight and sound were as helpful as ever, but scent greatly increased her awareness. To quickly the lioness bounded back two steps, facing back towards the group and straightening her ears rather than pinning them back. She did not want to be threatened, but she was not going to turn her back to these Drykas right away. She flicked her tail in anticipation for reactions from those who did not know what she turned into, eyeing them distrustfully before confirming no harm would come to her. Not listening to the human chatter any more, she trotted forward in the direction they had headed, keeping her ears back towards the group… just in case.

Of course the lioness had grown to trust the Drykas completely, even love some of them. And while her lion form was admired by some, she had met those who hunted her kin. Yet the Kelvic knew these humans loved their justifications, and if she showed them she was useful, eventually they would not care if she turned into a purple baboon, it only took time. The horses even would grow used to her sooner or later, but for now she relished in the fear that radiated from their fleshy hide. They trusted their master's enough not to trample her, but she at least still made them uncomfortable.

She could see more clearly in the distance than her human eyes allowed for, and watched the horizon for a flying figure. As if it would be so easy. She did not care to glance at the grass, knowing it would be trafficked by animals, and all but erased by herds passing through. If the Zith had touched ground for some reason, she would not have been able to find them this much later.

Her tracking would be more useful closer to their destination, which she could only hope was what Azmere meant. Either way, her lion form would allow her to travel faster than walking beside the horses. The striders flew impossibly fast, but she was not a very slow animal herself. Even if she was not putting all the power of the hunt in her stride, she would only be about half as fast as their horses, no good for a lead. And if the irritable Merevaika decided to leave her in the dust, she would be utterly useless no matter what. At least they would have to slow down for Quzon and his Seme, which she could match speeds with easily enough.

Still, when the chatter was done and the horses picked up speed, easily catching up with the distance she already took, Ixzo fell back not willing to take point. Instead she hovered on the side. She did not want to be behind the horses, else they imagine she was hunting them and really take off.

It was not until the group slowed once more, the lioness panting with the exertion beside them at Ixzo was able to really pay attention. It was immediately evident to her that she was not the only creature which smelled them. Zith were everywhere, tearing through the breathes she sucked in and burning her nostrils with her putrid scent. This was unmistakably their den, even if the humans could no smell it, could they not see it? Silver eyes grazed the grass in front of her finding it taller than most other grazed areas of the Sea. There were no bird droppings, so not even the poultry would near this horrid place. She was not listening to the humans as her breath slowly evened, and Ixzo found herself wandering away from the group. She was merely being guided by her tracking, the pull was coming from within. Inside her chest where her heart ached, ached for the proximity to her sister. Rufio, who was so close and yet just far enough to be unobtainable…

She watched as two of the men, Sparrow and one she did not recognize, strode forward on Sparrows mount. Where they going in without her? Irrational rage ceased her chest and the lioness prowled back towards the group, going far too near to the horses for safety, but enjoying how they fidgeted at her presence. The uncomfortable snorts and perked ears were music to her ears. She stopped beside Azmere, who's own mount was particularly used to her at this point, and sat beside him. She was not patient enough to wrap her tail around her paws, letting it flick in anticipation behind her instead.

It wasn't until the unfamiliar Drykas returned that Ixzo perked her ears forward, concentrating enough so that she could listen to the human garble. Petch it. I'm going in. Just as sparrow began to talk, Ixzo stood, striding forward with a purpose, following the fresh path that Sparrow's horse had laid just chimes before.

She was gladly forcing the Drykas' hands, and she would do so again to save Rufio. Before anyone could speak up, Ixzo did her best to melt into the grass. With the tall, ungrazed weed, she could use the shadows to her advantage and weave towards the entrance to the caves. Only those who had kept an eye on her would recognize where the grass quivered from her, or from the wind. The lioness was already hunting, the thought of the group behind her now. They could stop her, and risk being heard, abandoning their advantage of surprise. Or they could let her go. Ixzo couldn't think of another way for them to stop her.

Strong on the unnamed Drykas' scent she followed his prints into the opening of the cage. Where his toes dug deep into the dusty earth, her large paws could leave little trace, and even less vibrations. She was built for this. The shadows covered her black form with ease and the lioness took a shallow breath into her mouth to taste the scents better. Among the putrid remarks of the Zith, she could taste the fear and the pain that they bred beneath the earth, but there was a faint familiarity she could follow. Still just inside the entrance to the cave, carefully obscured by the shadows she knew as her kin, the lioness glanced back at the Drykas to see if they truly were going to ignore her rogue departure or if, in rashness, they would run after her. Either way they would be angry, and Ixzo didn't care.

oocSorry it's late!

[Azmere]

Azmere allowed himself a few minutes to take in the ragtag band of retribution that he had been cast. This did not look like the glorious raiding party that Cyrus spoke of but then again he had heard rumors of other groups being sent in various directions. There were those among the leadership of Endrykas that refused to believe in an organized colony of Zith. The ankal was unsure on the matter but given the nature of their attacks and the methods that were implemented, the scarred man could not refute the intelligence shown in the beasts’ tactics.

Beside Azmere rode Sparrow and then Frolie. Both men were accomplished riders and members of the Watch but Sparrow was almost like a brother and the archer was grateful for his presence. The elder watchman was also thankful to have Ixzo in their group. She was an accomplished hunter and brought in a good deal of food to their pavilion; her skills would certainly prove useful. The blue and gold stare settled upon the green eyes which burst with red at the center. The wild young woman looked almost hurt that Azmere did not ask her to scout but her defiant attitude and stubborn soul brought comfort to the man and he smiled ever so slightly at her. In truth, it was nice to see her in a situation where he wasn’t trying to prevent her from stealing. He had never forgotten that day when she transformed and they slaughtered those wolves. Absent-mindedly, Azmere ran his hand over his armor where it hid the scars.

Next, the Ra’athi looked to the walahk. One he recognized from simply being around Endrykas. The man with tinted skin was large and certainly a warrior but he looked like a fish out of water on the back of a horse. The ankal wondered if he would last the ride but since they would be tracking there would be less chance of a hard charge so perhaps it was a minimal risk. Azmere had heard stories of how the man killed a grassbear and very nearly himself in the process. Should the opportunity ever arise, the Drykas decided he would like to hear the tale. Next he took in the polite young man who seemed to be, well… young; inexperienced. He spoke Common which Azmere was able to decipher for the most part. The reluctant leader frowned.

Azmere pointed at Quzon then to Lorcan. His face was stern but not angry or pretentious; just serious. Once he was sure they had seen his gesture, he then pointed to a place behind Sparrow’s strider then behind Frolie’s horse. Hopefully, the two could figure out it meant they were to follow in line. It wasn’t traditionally how Drykas rode but given that neither man appeared to be very comfortable on a horse and neither knew Pavi, it would have to do. When Azmere turned back around, he took the weapon and clothes from Ixzo and tried not to stare at her naked form. A fit woman, Ixzo’s muscular body melted perfectly with her womanly curves but it was the scarring that drew the multi-colored gaze. He wondered if the intricate ones were similar in purpose to the woven tapestries and lineages of the Drykas. Then saw her wink and followed the tease to see Merevaika on the receiving end. Azmere was confused but did his best to hide it. Was there some history between the two of them?

The archer nudged Skylla along after Ixzo. He watched her ears come forward when she faced them then when she moved ahead, the ears rotated and pointed back at the Drykas once again. It was curious but soon they were off and Azmere wouldn’t remember to ask. He goaded his mare along at a steady run but did not push her too hard because the Seme would not be able to keep up. It also made him feel better about Ixzo being on foot. She wouldn’t be any good in a fight if she was exhausted from the journey.

Azmere responded to Skylla’s defiant snorting and stomping by slowing down. Apparently his strider caught wind of the foul monsters somewhere nearby. He leaned forward and stroked her neck and talked softly into her ear. The pairing was still new and their bond was not as strong as it would one day become. Things like that needed nurtured and fed so the Drykas made sure to affectionately coax and calm the mare for several chimes. When he looked up, Ixzo was moving off on her own but he decided not to follow her. The watchman turned in his yvas to look around and make sure the rest of the party was accounted for as he rolled over ideas in his mind of how best to approach the situation. A cave could be a deadly place if not properly scouted. Once Azmere turned back around he saw Sparrow and Frolie riding off into the cave on one horse.

“Geht voune cultakh!!!” Azmere shouted in a whisper after the pair. He half loaded an arrow into his bow while rising up from the yvas. His leg muscles flexed and held him aloft so his line of sight was higher. He watched the strider take both men into the darkness. He exhaled in such a way that it was almost a hiss and anyone who could see the unscarred skin on his face would notice a cherry tint rising up under the tanned flesh. The colorful bursts around his pupils flashed anger when Azmere looked to the remaining party members. “No one else goes in!” He spoke in a quiet but stressed tone.

The Drykas dismounted and landed with a crouch. His legs burned from the straddled lift and his left leg always hurt when impacted thanks to a dead man’s knife. Azmere rose to his full height and adjusted his armor making sure all of the straps were tight and his bracers were tied well. The man moved his quiver to his left hip and affixed his club to his right by a leather tie. He laid Vihar across the yvas and went about the task of sorting his arrows. Some of the ones in his quiver were game arrows and there were broad arrows in his yvas bag. The archer removed his rucksack and tied it to his yvas then took up his bow and turned to face the group. He was going to tell everyone to dismount because the striders would be safer topside but then he heard a whistle echo from inside the cave. Azmere looked up to the sky with a broken expression and spoke a soft prayer. “Blessed Yahal, I lay my life in your hands. May my arrows fly true like the promise of your faithfulness.”

When the men came out, it was all Azmere could do to not slap them both. The watchman didn’t even chastise them but the scowl on his face and the look of utter disappointment spoke volumes. They should’ve used the web and should he get the chance to pull the young men aside, he will tell them. Azmere motioned for everyone to dismount and gather around him and as they did, he laid out a plan. “We use the web to gather more information.” His voice was soft but there was a sharpness to it that was aimed at the other watchmen. Azmere looked up to Merevaika and wondered if she would be patient enough for such a thing. Then it dawned on him. Ixzo was gone. He started looking round but trying to find a nightlion on the prowl was pointless. The man swiveled on his boots and looked into the cave just in time to see the tip of a black tail swish out of sight.

The ankal sighed deeply and grabbed his bow. So this is how it’s going to be? He questioned mentally. Azmere looked at the weapons on each person in their party. He knew Merevaika to be competent in several arms so she could stand with Frolie and they would be strong together. Azmere physically moved the young man next to the wild brunette. “You two.” He then pointed at Quzon, no doubt a capable warrior, and then to Sparrow who nodded in agreement. “You two.” Then Azmere looked to Lorcan. He didn’t like the idea of fighting with someone he didn’t know and then he thought better of it. He switched from Pavi to his rough Common. “You make horses safe.” He stared at the man and hoped that he understood how precious striders were to their riders. Azmere knew the Zith could probably already smell them coming and he didn’t want their mounts to end up as shredded carcasses. Having said his piece, the ankal turned and jogged towards the cave in a slight crouch. The quick but low steps through the grass hid his limp quite well. His leather boots hardly made a sound as he cut a path through the grass. Once he reached the mouth of the cave, he waited for the others to enter.

Azmere pointed Merevaika and Frolie to the left where there was the most cover. They could rain down some damage and would be hard to access for the Zith. He motioned for Sparrow and Quzon to go right. There was less cover but more shadows which he knew Sparrow could utilize and hoped the foreigner could so the same. The archer nocked an arrow and drew it tense then stalked forward. He had a singular mission in mind for himself and that was to control the field which he could do if he could get himself wedged in against a stack of small boulders about twenty yards from the ruined structure. The only problem was that he would be exposed in crossing the cave floor and for that he only had one option; faith.

[Merevaika]

Merevaika

There was an outsider in their group. As soon as he spoke, the woman shot him a sharp look, warning him not to get in her way. The man who spoke no common didn't deserve many Zith to kill. She wouldn't mind hunting them with her, as long as she got her chance and it wasn't snatched up by the walahk.

Turning back to the Kelvic, now standing naked ready to change, she caught the wink, shooting an angry glare at her. The woman didn't have the chance to receive it, a dark lion standing in her place a tick later. Ears twitched, a tail flicked and Eryunt moved back quickly in shock, not expecting the night lion. Attempting to kick out, Merevaika yanked his mane, managing to pull him back before he hit her. She may have been a walahk, but she was still going to fight with them.

From that point, her stallion refused to remain calm. First, unsettled by the grand predator he was forced to ride beside, the horse moved briskly, shifting automatically away from the creature despite Merevaika's assurance that everything was alright. He stomped and snorted defiantly, and when the smell of blood pricked up - much earlier for him - his ears pressed back and the horse snorted heavily. He knew what was coming. And his reaction could only mean he was expected a lot of those winged beasts.

Her eyes flickered back around her, trying to judge to group a little more as Sparrow began to talk. The lioness had disappeared, and the Drykas didn't have to check to know where she was going. The opening of the Zith's hideout. Why else would she have come, why else would she have gone?

The woman gave a smirk as Azmere cried softly after the other two members of the Watch. The group was falling apart. Even within those who were Drykas, who were meant to be the organised warriors of the city, even they weren't getting along. The woman leant forward against her horse, pressing her body tight to the Strider and whispered soft assurances in his ear. Her feet curled round up to rest on his back and the woman felt complete, feeling the shape of him under her. Her eyes stared into the darkness, wondering how much the sight of paths would help their cause. Not enough to help them hurry up.

She twitched against Eryunt's body, feeling her body tense with the movement. The moments before the battle, she was coming to realise, were the worst. Her entire body fought for movement, for action, yet it was everything she couldn't have. Instead her mind was tossed between scenes of bloodshed and success, and those of bloodshed and failure, and there was nothing to distract her, no wild beating of her heart, no exhilaration and sheer thrill.

As they talked, she faked disinterest, eyes tracing across the landscape and taking in the escape routes. On their Striders, the Drykas could definitely outrun them, and the country was lined with narrow in glens and hollows, perfect places to hide out and ambush any attackers. The main problem would be getting to them, the Striders that was, without being caught by the sharp talons first. Would Eryunt be brave enough to make the sprint towards her if she called him?

Of course he would. She would do the same for him if their situations were reversed. With a gentle rub against his neck, the woman almost rolled off him, making the dismount as gentle and slow as possible. If they wanted to take their time, she decided with a sharp smirk directed mostly at Sparrow and Azmere, she would too. Taking her time over the possessions attached to his yvas as well, she pulled the scimitar off and hung it from her belt, not before slashing towards the side to check the weight. Quiver and her bow were the better weapons, and with them, she whispered a short goodbye, sending another rough look at the man assigned to care for the horse. "Nothing will happen to Eryunt," she hissed, red in her eyes glinting against the light, "Because then something will happen to you."

Hand lingering on her Strider as she moved away, she was sorry to leave him again to enter the underground. It was only because that was where the action was. It was only because she needed to fight before the Zith realised they were up there.

Not paying much attention to whatever man she had been assigned to, the woman slunk into a crouch, feeling the grasses brush against her side and shade her from Syna. Hopefully, from the vision of the Zith too. Her boots flexed as she moved, and it took a few moments to adjust her weapons to make her crouched stalk as smooth as possible. Then, she was ready, slinking through the grass as stealthily as possible. Reaching the cover, she stopped suddenly, eyes flickering back only to see if the man was actually going to join her or not. She didn't care about him any more than that, no clue how useful he would be. The Drykas had herself in mind, and she was going to hide here and rain upon the Zith with her arrows.

Wedging herself in a comfortable position both to run and to shoot, she shifted her knife and scimitar once more to be easy access. Then, she carefully took her bow and brought it to the arm closer to the cave opening. The arrow slotted into place, and she pulled it back, setting her aim as the centre of the tunnel opening. Quickly, her gaze flitted from the other hunters, keeping her muscles firm and right as she did. It took everything in her to stop herself from yelling out towards the Zith, to get them out of their little rats' nest. People had plans, and that was sometimes better. She was ready to do whatever was needed to survive and to fight.
"Pavi"
Grassland sign
"Common"

[Quzon]

As the group road, Quzon constantly found himself a short distance away despite trying to remain in-line behind Sparrow and Frolie. He kept leaning forward slightly with his calves tapping against the horses sides to quickened the Seme's stride. Powerful hooves hammered against the ground, filling dirt behind as he griped the handles of the yvas. "Faster." He spoke in Myrian, letting his horse enter into a jagged canter as he held on for dear life.

Unsurprisingly, Quzon's first instinct upon seeing the cave was not to press forward but to dismount from his house; to trust that his allies would stop and formulate a plan of action, so he waited to receive some type of orders. He may have imparted too much of his own peoples ways onto the Drykas at the moment, he trusted that the horsemen's unity as a people would naturally cause them to work together in times of strife. He was far too used to the structured guerrilla warfare of the Taloban Army. That concept of unity quickly became irrelevant to him once he noticed the two men ride off towards the cave on their own. He didn't care about the men scouting ahead, but noticed the irritated way the man named Azmere responded to the idea of scouting ahead.

When the two men returned with useful information, his fingers itched to grasp his hand-axe, though he refrained from removing it from his belt. An axe would require him getting up close and personal with the damned Zith. He didn't intend to get within range unless he needed too. The Myrian wanted to take no unnecessary risks, deciding to use the element of earth as a ranged weapon if he needed too. When he was told to pair up with Sparrow, his emerald green eyes narrowed at the young man. The look he gave him was one of unearned familiarity, lifting a hand to pat Sparrow on the shoulder. "Let, we. Spill blood." The words were spoken in broken common then lifted the bear hide helmet to rest on his head properly.

Quzon entered into his own low crouch, trying to remain as quite as possible. He did not know if he was succeeding or not, but remanded low to possibly trick any distance eyes into believing him to be a bear. Upon entering the cave, he nodded to Azmere in acknowledgement then proceeded to go right. Quzon clung to the darkest shadows that he could find, using the good lowlight vision he was naturally born with to guide his way. He kept his left hand loosely outstretched, ready to point his reimancy scarred palm towards any danger. He looked back over his shoulder then paused to let Sparrow take the lead.

[Meadow]

The two other Watch members hung their heads in shame as the older man reprimanded them. They had been careless and that could have hurt the group as a whole. The pair followed the man's orders as he explained the plan before going in. It was not until he said something about the nightlion that they too noticed her gone. Jerking around the red tint under the tan skin finally made them look towards the entrance not seeing anything, but something told them that she had disappeared into the cave as well. Quickly getting with their partners the small attack group went inside of the tunnel slowing their movements. If the large group made too much noise the Zith would spot them and end them for sure. From there on out they would have to calculate every move carefully.

Sparrow quickly moved over to the right where Azmere had pointed out to the pair. Quickly using the shadows as cover, the young man peaked out trying to see what all was going on. All around the edges were Drykas, Humans, and Kelvics of all ages and sexes digging and moving boulders. Confused he tried to listen to what the large red Zith was telling the others seeing as it looked to be the leader. The drykas could only make out a few words. But he could tell that it had something to do with the works or perhaps just an individual that was not helping the rest. Eyes shot around him trying to find cover a little closer that he could make it to without being seen. There was another pillar about five feet from the blue man and the Watch man. Trying to find Azmere the young man motioned him over to let him know about the idea.

Froile moved to the left up top getting a height advantage making sure that the pair would not be seen. While the added leverage would be nice, there was also a chance that it would not work once the Zith were aware of their presence. Sticking his head up some the young man motioned for the woman to follow him up seeing the coast was clear.

“It looks like the big red one is in charge. He is talking about a female, but I can't tell what all he is saying. I want to get closer to the strange ruin and see if I can hear anything else,” Sparrow whispered to their scarred leader.

The low hissing of the big red Zith continued as he spoke to his men about the female slave. Motioning the female was brought before the three male monsters. A young scared little human was dragged over to the ruins before being thrown at the feet of the big monster. A growl rippled through the creature looking between the two manlike bodies deciding what would become of the female. A sneer appeared on its face looking to the one on the right.

“Share the little wretch, afterwords kill her,” it delivered before turning away. A series of rocks fell off to where the intruders had entered unseen. Snapping his head towards the noise, the red beast hissed and motioned for three of them to go see what was happening. One flew over before landing and walking into the middle with the other two flanking it. They had stopped short of being able to see the archers placed up top. Slowly the creatures moved into position looking around for what had caused the noise.

[Azmere]

Azmere had made up his mind. He was going to make a break for it once he knew the others were in position. As he scanned the low-light environment, the scarred man pulled his essence forth, his djed and pictured it coating the three fingers he used to draw and fire arrows. The thumb, index and middle fingers on his right hand started to shimmer beneath some unseen substance. The watchman continued to focus on the djed as it slowly solidified under the man’s will. Once the shield mage was content with the coverage and shape, he assigned the small guard a task – to prevent physical damage. Almost forgetting himself, Azmere went back to his duty of orchestrating his people.

Contrasting eyes followed up into the columned formations which provided ample cover for Merevaika and Frolie. The right side of his face curled up in a smirk. The star-kissed gaze then moved across the dark and shadowy expanse of the cave to the lower right corner closest to the ruins. He saw nothing for several ticks then caught a glimpse of what looked like a bear hunkering down. Since a bear would never share a cave with a Zith colony, the watchman was certain this was the blue-skinned man, Quzon. Everyone was ready.

The ankal took a step out to head towards his goal but his boot heel nicked some pebbles which pushed some stones and started a small trickle of noise that drew attention straight to the archer. He cursed himself in his mind but the Drykas knew better than to linger. He trickled to the left with very cautious and intentional steps that kept him away from the cave’s entrance. Azmere watched as three Zith did as their ugly, ginger leader bid. A triangle of nasty flew up and stalked the paths that the Drykas had just left. He narrowed his eyes and leaned back away from the ledge. He did not move his feet but rather turned his body so that he was twisted from the waist up with his left arm pointing at the nearest filth.

Azmere slowly drew in a breath of air which filled his lungs and at the same time he pulled the bowstring with knocked arrow back until his index finger rested against his cheek. The skin on his face could feel his hand but the shielded fingers could not sense the touch of his face aside from a minimal amount of pressure. With a head shot lined up and the target only a dozen feet away, the archer exhaled his breath as he released the string. The arrow sang true and followed the twang of the Drykas’ bow with a hollow thunk as it sank into the creature’s skull. The man wasted no time and was in the process of drawing a second arrow the moment he fired the first. Azmere switched his feet now that his cover was blown and lined up on another of the ones near the mouth of the cavern. He rushed through the step and watched his arrow sail wide right.

Now wanting to leave his party out, the ankal realized he was out of position for the plan. Azmere took two steps forward and leapt from the small elevation he’d been using as cover. He landed roughly on the main floor of the cave which descended down towards the ruins. This gave him some extra room from the two Zith now behind him. The Drykas never stopped moving, however, and used his momentum to charge into a full blown sprint towards the cropping of rocks that he had eyed since the beginning. He let out a howl that sounded like a cross between a dog and a crazy person as he pumped his legs. His muscles burned and his scar tissue ached with every step but the man persisted despite the feeling that he was not in complete control –such was the case when running downhill in a near dark chamber.

Suddenly, a large grey formation of hard earth rose up before the blue and gold stare. It was far larger up close than he had anticipated. With a growl, Azmere gauged the distance as best he could in the dim illumination. He made a stutter step then planted his right boot and heaved his body upward. He swung his arms and left leg up trying to aid the motion. His inertia carried him forward much faster than he could elevate and his body slammed up against the cold stone. Pain radiated from the impact and the air fled his lungs in an ‘ooomf!’

The ankal caught ahold of the upper edge with his hands and forearms. His head was over the pile as well and he could now see the red Zith. The scarred man ignored the feelings of pain and fatigue. He flexed his arms and hoisted his body up to rocks quickly. A glance over his shoulder revealed nothing and so Azmere dropped down in front of the rock pile. He was backed into a corner but he had full view of the original positions of his people as well as the ruins where the slaves were being kept. Azmere shakily drew an arrow, quickly knocked it and took aim on the furry leader. He released but his timing was off. He coughed a bit and struggled to regain his breath. His eyes narrowed as the projectile sailed well over the ruins. It was probably the worst shot the archer had made in years. Now he was angry.

NoteI asked for permission to kill the first Zith. I rolled for my hits in chat and sent the transcript to Meadow. Make sure you guys check with her before calling your own kills. Time to get some trophies!

[Merevaika]

Merevaika

Her partner began to move upwards, Merevaika watching him carefully with another eye on where the Zith were, well aware that any moment they could burst out and attack. It wasn't a bad idea, actually, more height gave better shots, and that was always a good thing. Once he was securely up, and had gestured for her to join her, she shifted all her possessions again, and grasped out, pulling herself up behind him.

Ducking once again into cover, she placed her bow in a position meaning to shoot, fingers curled around her first arrow. She was ready. Better get this fight started, so she could let it meet the Zith and let out all that anger towards them.

A scattering of rocks over the horrid voices of the Zith caught her attention as much as it caught theirs, and she tightened her grip, making out their figures move through the light so close to herself and the other Drykas. So close, she could almost reach out and touch the fur that crossed their back and their huge, ugly wings. So close she had to hold her breath so they wouldn't notice her too soon.

There came a sudden shot and she knew it was Azmere instantly. The man sprang into action, thundering across the cave with a shrill howl as he moved towards the Zith. He was the first to make his move - stealing the glory, she chuckled silently, almost jealous. Not for long, she thought, not for long.

Soon, it would be her turn, and however it went, she was going to show the Zith what she was made out of. What the Drykas were made out of.
And it wasn't going to be nice for the Zith.

Still crouching in her hidden position beside Frolie, the woman looked at him sharply, knowing this would work best if he shot when she told him to. With a quick hand sign, the most simple copy she could do, she stared at him sharply, letting her eyes drift across his bow as she pretended to judge him. Really judged him. Both.

Pointing towards the nearest Zith, she made their target clear. Unless he chose not to listen. Or to shoot at another one.

That was his decision. Hopefully he'd make the right one.

Tightening her grip on the bow, she took in a deep breath of air, steadying herself where she crouched. Shifting upwards to get a better look at the Zith she had in her eyes, she waited until he turned his back, large, leathery wings shielding anything that looked human from them. The bowstring pulled back easily, her breathing against the feather causing it to flicker steadily. There was some distance. But she could do it. She had done worse.

The arrow flew forward, and she had another in her hand, against the bow, nocked, the bow string pulled back, on her cheek, tighter, further, elbow raised, inhale. Exhale. Gone.

Following the arrow into darkness, where nothing lay. Nothing. No Zith. Just the clatter as it hit a rock or the ground or something. She hoped with Azmere, the sight of him, the noise he was making, her arrow would be forgotten, or missed. That neither would have given away her position just yet, as she still had almost a quiver full left, and she didn't want to have to use them up close.

With the embarrassment of her failed shot rising in her chest sharply, she pulled out another arrow, determined to show someone - Azmere, Frolie, the other lot - that she could shoot one. And hit something. That she wasn't as useless as those two shots had made her appear.

It was the fury that brought the arrow to the bow, a fire inside her that brought it back. A reckless shot, her arms shook as she did it. She took no time to steady herself nor the bow, nor to pick a clear target, line up her shot, line up again, line up a third time. She drew it back, and let it fly with all the power in her frustration of her first two shots failing. Fly towards a group, not an individual.

It didn't hit a Zith, and that was all she cared about. Looking over at the others, she tried to see who had noticed. Who had already done better than her - and Azmere, she tried to tell herself, didn't count.


"Pavi"
Grassland sign
"Common"

[Quzon]

Quzon did his best to conceal himself within the darkest portion of the shadows, stalking forward in so low a couch that he could place his hands on the ground to practically walk on all fours like a beast. He mainly did so to keep his balance and remain in control of his body as to not make any dramatic motions that would attract any attention. The Myrian stalked forward along the wall to hide behind the pillar located a few feet away from him.

Unlike the others who took the high ground, Quzon chose to remain on the ground level. There was a sound that was almost imperceptible to him at first, but he heard the subtle clattering of rocks falling within the stillness of the caves entrance. It caused him to immediately take a knee and look around, trying remaining as still as death. The sounds of beating wings motivated him to continue forward until he lingered behind the natural pillar.

The half Isur's dark colored hand clenched into a fist slowly, then unclenched, then repeated the pattern. It was a small thing, but to Quzon it was a gesture of power. Willing forth his djed with each opening of his hand. He peaked around the bottom of the pillar to find the source of the batting wings. And upon spotting the ZIth, he focused his efforts on the one on closet to him on the right.

Blood lust and instinct kicked in, and Quzon raise his hand to hold his palm two inches away from the surface of the pillar. For Quzon, the use of reimancy was an incredibly visceral thing that he never took lightly. Flesh and blood. Soul and bone. He willed forth the very core of his nature; the djed that held the blueprint of his physical being. Feeling the arcane travel along his spine and to his hand where it seeped from his skin as he willed the energy into a gas of res.

The could was only as big as the space between his palm and the pillar, and with a slow inhale willed his res to attract the element of earth to it. He wasn't sure how long the mission would take, so used attraction to conserve his djed rather than transmute his res into a purely magical element. The earth on the pillar started to be pulled around a singular center of gravity. -As if it were the formation of a new planet- the stone started form a layer within the res until only a hollow pea sized core of res linger within the middle. He used that core of res to control it while the outer shell took the form of a jagged arrow head.

Quzon willed the earthen arrowhead to float a few meters away from his current location to alter its line of trajectory. He wanted to make it hard for the zith to track its flight path back to him in case he missed. With a gruff exhale he let the earth arrow fly forth. And watched in silence as the earth arrow completely missed its mark by several meters, arching off into the distance. Quzon snarled in annoyance as he slowly moved to hide behind the pillar again.

This time, Quzon held the palms of both of his hands together as if he were about to pray. But this too was also a gesture. He inhaled through his nostrils, then focused his mind on the perseverance of stone. He exhaled though his mouth as he slowly spread his hands apart from one another, willing another similarly sized could of gaseous res to expel from his mouth and linger in the air between his palms. He used attraction again to form another jaggedly sharp arrowhead, then shifted one palm to will the arrow to move to where he fired the first one.

He peaked around the corner to adjust his aim, glancing to the zith as he focused on hitting it in the chest. The second arrowhead was set flying and while it was within a meter of his target... but still missed.

This time Quzon was starting to get angry. To calm himself down, the Myrian touched both of his index fingers together as he closed his eyes. He took several deep breaths to focus his thoughts on patience and perseverance. Quzon had no need for anger at the moment. Because anger was his trigger for fire and he wanted to remain hidden. After a tick passed, he slowly pulled his fingers away from each other and used the act as a gesture to will a thin gas cloud of res to flow from his finger tips.

And imitating his previous jagged earth arrowhead creation, willed his res to attract more earth again. He willed the earth weapon to float away from him, making sure to send it to the location he'd fired the others at. As he peaked around the pillar, me made the arrow turn slightly to the right and higher into the air at a downward arch as if it was going to be fired from a high vantage point. With the previous shots as his measuring guides, he sent the earth projectile flying through the air.

When the Zith let out a cry of pain, he'd known that his arrow had hit the Zith square in the chest. It caused a satisfying sneer pulled at the edge of his lips as he leaned back into his crouch in the faint darkness behind the pillar.

[Meadow]

The zith slowly started to spread out around the opening looking for any sudden movement before them. They were not aware of the archer that was taking aim behind the three. A large thud sounded when the monster hit the floor of the cavern. Snarling the large red monster jerked around seeing its lacky dead on the ground. Roaring the called for the other two to attack. Both creatures instantly took to the sky to see what had attacked them. The one on the right flew over to the side where three arrows were firing from. Swooping down it took a swing at the two archers before banking to the right keeping a close eye on them. Big red and ugly snarled letting out another cry when the arrow whizzed past his head. Spreading his wings he also took to the sky calling for the other three Zith to join them as well. Soon the group of Drykas was surrounded by the flying beasts in the air. Froile took aim and fired again missing one of the monsters making a face.

Sparrow took aim next looking for one of the monsters to come at him or close enough to get hit by his spear. Once thrown the man knew it meant throwing himself into the open to get it back. Watching closely, he pulled back some knowing it would not be worth the risk of getting killed. Moving some not far from where he was told to stand the Watch member cried out getting one of the creature's attention. Jerking around one dove right towards where the man was hidden; he took aim and stabbed forward a little too early. The creature hissed and banked to the left causing him to miss a fatal blow, but the drykas did puncture its midsection. The watch member quickly ripped the spear back out and watched as his adversary took to the sky again. Scrunching up his face the man looked around for his leader to see if he had any kind of ideas on what to do. Finally spotting the scared man on top of some rocks, he decided against getting his attention. At that height with so many flying above, one moment of weakness would cost him his life.

A loud cry erupted from one of the monsters as a sudden fire ball launched forward hitting it in the chest. Flapping its wings the monster moved back as quickly as possible while trying to put the blaze out. Gliding down the creature grabs some dirt and rubs it on fire putting it out finally. It returned to the sky after grabbing a spear and throwing it towards the pair attacking from a top the rocks. Flapping one wing to the side the Zith moved to the left easily. The weapon flew towards the two Drykas missing the woman, but it caught the man in the side. Froile cried out and grabbed his side while moving behind some cover. Pulling his hand back the man could tell it did not go very deep which helped his nerves.

[Azmere]

Amidst all of the sudden chaos, Azmere found himself alone. His ruse had drawn a response from the Zith but the monsters seemed more intent upon the sets of Drykas on either flank. This was mostly an assumption since it was all but impossible to see anything when one got away from the narrow entrance. The man steeled himself and rested his back against the stone behind his body. He drew strength from the solid mass – the consistency of the great mother, Semele, filled his core. The scarred man drew an arrow from his quiver and knocked it against the string of his ancestral bow. Like the walls of the cave around him, the archer was not to be moved.

Azmere closed his eyes and felt the madness that swirled inside the cavern fall away. For a moment, the watchman was alone. He called upon the djed that ran through all beings and summoned it to his gaze. The azure and amber stare opened to a dark cave painted with bright splashes of color and burning paths which let the warrior track his enemies and allies more accurately. A roar from his right drew the archer’s focus so he turned and raised his bow while the starburst eyes deciphered what was before him. One of the flying beasts was dusting off its chest. There was a clash of djed that looked like fire though the paths clouded much of the actual detail. Azmere had little understanding but had heard stories of how men could form fire from their hands – one such man rode with them today. The wounded Zith flew up into the heights of the cave and out of normal sight but his djed could not be hidden from the pathfinder. The ankal straightened his left arm and pointed at his target while the right hand drew back the string until knuckles rested against his unscarred cheek. A breath was brought in as the Drykas slowly traced the movements of the foul beast and he waited for a clear shot.

“Mother Semele, may your my hands be steady as your unfailing love.” The semi-charred Zith reached the zenith of his arch then began to dive back down which created a predictable course. I dedicate my arrows to you, Lord Yahal, that they would purge this world of corruption starting with these wretched creatures.” Azmere dropped his sight just in below the plunging Zith and exhaled; his fingers released the projectile. A short tick of suspense settled over the ankal as he watched the glowing shape of the winged bandit in its dive. There was a screech and a shift in the smooth dive then a crunch as the animal crashed in a heap on the stone floor. The archer quickly drew and knocked another arrow as his eyes lifted to scan the cave for a second target.

The sound of a man’s short burst of pain drew the watchman’s eyes to the left where he could see the standing figures behind the natural pillars. Several of the Zith were swirling and swooping about in attempts to nail the Drykas hidden along the upper ridge. The colored paths crossed and mixed but the glowing figures of the two Drykas were easy to distinguish from the winged bodies of the slavers. One of the fiends was soaring up into the cavern’s high center and banking back around while the other was serving as a distraction for the pair of archers. The watchman followed the outlier and used his left arm to lead the beast. As the window of opportunity narrowed, Azmere drew the string tight once more as he took in a breath to steady his body. He exhaled and released the string with a ‘twang’ sound. The shriek that soon followed along with the halted dive of the Zith in his sights indicated a hit though the man could not tell where. He only hoped it was enough for his people to finish the beast while it was confused and in pain.

Azmere drew a third arrow and knocked it. He drew back and looked towards the middle where he had seen the slaves and the big red Zith. The leader was gone, certainly flying about somewhere. The archer scoured the right side of the cave again and saw a human shape darting back and forth as if it had lost something. The sporadic darting from one pillar to another and then back again didn’t seem like the behavior of someone hiding or trying to make the most of a vantage point. A flying blot of color was hovering above this stout figure. This was the scarred man’s next target. He drew back his string and held it tight while he tracked the weaving motion of the winged terror. Once he identified the pattern, Azmere released his arrow and watch as it sailed true. The animal was not slain but its cry of pain was enough to distract it from hunting the Drykas and sent the Zith on a limped flight path towards the center of the cave. The ankal started to reach for another arrow but felt the slight burning in his eyes from using his magic. He took a moment to close his lids and thank his gods for the success of his shots before he would unleash another round of arrows.