Completed [Quest] Into The Mountains

[Emblem]

A cool breeze swept across Ser Tylor's face the next morning, instantly waking him. He sat up, rubbing his eye with his hand as he glanced around their makeshift camp. He could see the rise and fall of his companions' chests, and the faint smoke from the fire the night before rising softly into the air. Next he glanced upward, hoping to see a purple sky and the sun rising on the eastern horizon. While there was a glow on the eastern horizon, he wouldn't be getting the brilliant sunrise he wanted. The air was damp, and a light fog had rolled in, typical in the more mountainous regions of the world. Only a faint glow from the sun in the east managed to pierce the thick air. Tylor stood up, and began preparing himself for what lay ahead. He started with simple meditations and breathing exercises beneath a nearby tree. After that he practiced some light reimancy, doing simple things such as creating a flame in his palm before quelling it. Ser Mat and Ser Ayden also soon rose, and began their own routines while the Myrian and Svefra slept. Both began with meditation, in the same manner as Ser Tylor had done it. Ser Mat looked the quintessential knight, practicing strokes with a longsword in one hand and a shield in the other. Ser Ayden looked all the more aggressive, practicing the motions with his claymore, a weapon no bandit would want to encounter. "What do you all make of this fog?" Ser Tylor called out. Mat simply responded with a shrug, not having thought much of it. "It feels nice with all these hot summer days" he quipped. "Well it is a bit more important than that, Mat" Ayden added. "This is ambush weather. Our bandit friends could certainly be setting up all sorts of ambushes on the road. I mean look at it, it's perfect! But I reckon it also works for us. If we play our cards right, they won't notice our approach" It wasn't much longer before the others had awoken and begun moving about the forest floor. The three knights gave them all time to prepare themselves while they cleaned up the camp. Ayden once again tended to the horses, feeding and gently stroking them. After quelling whatever embers remained from the night before, Mat and Tylor loaded up gear onto the horses before finally lifting themselves onto their respective animals. While the others prepared themselves, the knights proudly trotted around the opening on their horses, letting the horses get used to the weight again. When it was time, Ser Tylor spoke up. "Alright, well I hope everyone got their rest last night" he said glancing at the Myrian briefly. "Anyway, this fog gives us some good cover, as it does for them, so be cautious and smart, and this will be over with in no time" Tylor was never good at speeches, especially geared at mere commoners. He turned his horse, while the rest followed into the hills. ------Later That Day------ The fog had gotten thicker and ground rockier and more unstable. On one shoulder was a mild drop off, while on the other was a rocky hill. The road was wide though, giving the party plenty of room to move about. But still, traveling through the fog ridden mountains could certainly make one nervous, especially with the knowledge of bandits in the area. Every now and again a rock would slide down the hill, as if someone was up there waiting, with a bow aimed straight at someone. Or maybe it was just some wildlife trying to find it's own way through the Cobalt Mountains. The fog hid all sort's of secrets from them, but Ayden simply hoped that it hid them from those secrets as well. Another half a bell passed as they walked the lonely road. It looked as though the merchants had all agreed that this was not the weather to be trying to cross. Tylor was constantly glancing at a map he had been given, giving the general location of the cave they were seeking. Unfortunately the map relied heavily on physical landmarks, and the fog hid most from view. Tylor was heavily focused on the map while the other two Knights appeared to be in their own world, blindly following their leader. Those three did not take notice to the three silhouettes moving about on the hill above them.

[Razkar]

Razkar had journeyed far to the northern reaches of Falyndar with the Taloba Army during his service, and at their extremities, the green and choking land of the Myrian encroached into the mountains of the Kaleans. The ground rose up like the back of sleeping monsters, huge and sloping; dirt became rocks and the protective canopy that barred all light thinned so that great pools of it shone through to the ground.

But there had always been the trees. Razkar had peered beyond their treeline, their final treeline, and seen Kalea beyond it... and the mountains that rose impossibly tall and broad there, until the clouds hid their peaks. Snow glistened on them, and if one had the right eyes, tiny figures could be seen toiling away.

The Myrian had scarce believed such places could support life, especially humans. And now he was climbing up one and he realized something: they all looked the fucking same.

His mood was becoming more pensive as the little clutch of fortune hunters trudged after the mounted knights. Fog, stifling an thick like smoke without the acrid taste in his lungs... it covered everything but the ground directly in front of them. They made their way higher through valleys and trails the horses could only just navigate, and with every passing bell, Razkar's antennae became sharper. More concerned.

Perfect spot for an ambush. Which would be one way to get to grips with our enemy... but she is here, too.

Razkar was quietly amazed, however, at how well the Svefra was handling the stones and the beds of loose shale that shifted under her feet. For one of the Sea People, she seemed quite at home among bare rock. Razkar minded every step he took, feeling more unease among this barren, faceless landscape than he did among the cityscape of Syliras.

And we haven't even got to the caves yet. Wonderful...

He looked over his shoulder and that shock of red hair alerted him to her presence immediately. She'd have to be deep in the fog to hide that... and that just make his jaw clench even tighter. It made her a clear target, but any bandit worth his salt would target the Knights first. Mounted, armored, in command and better armed, they would be the main problem. Razkar sighed.

Yes. Assuming these bandits are competent, which is no guarantee... but they've lasted this long, so...

Then it hit him. Strong and unmistakable, slicing through the pea soup air like a scream or a flash of lightning. The sheer... wrongness, of it was as palpable to his senses as seeing a shark hop through the jungles of his home.

Something that didn't belong.

Razkar confirmed it. Deep breaths through his nose... yes... not from the others. The Knights were far too restrained and his brand was different. Edreina did not partake, nor did the rest of their party.

Company.

The Myrian paused, but not for long. He'd been on the other end of enough ambushes to know that if your target started acting odd, out of character, strange, it was usually because he knew you were there. So he crushed his face into a frown and stopped, taking a drink, waiting for Edreina to catch up-

-then tripped her over with a little jerk of his foot.

The yelping Svefra went down and Razakr made an apologetic little sound, bending down close to her as if to help her up, but his hand on her shoulder really keeping her there, mouth close to her ear.

"There are people above us. I smell them. Tobacco. Have smelled in Spinning Coin. Not know how many, but wanted to warn you. Stay closer to me, and act angry, not scared, so if they watch, they not suspect."

Then he finished his charade and helped her up, scowling and raising his voice.

"Mind feet, female! Gods..."

He stomped onward, face still smacking of thunder, eyes front but other senses on overdrive. Rocks... shifting. Gods, it was so hard to sift through the plethora of sounds, sights and smells, finding just what you needed. But the rocks... on the right... no stalking predator would be so clumsy. Only humans would be. But their numbers? He had no idea.

"Knight?!" He barked suddenly, and Tylor turned to him in something close to anger. But the Myrian kept walking, getting close and pointing a finger. "Need to talk about rest!"

"Myrian, I am in no mood for-"

"We are being followed."

The words did not have the stunning effect Razkar was expected. Tylor's stern expression did not waver save for one slow, contemplative blink. His two comrades masked their emotions the same way... and the Myrian understood. He kept his words low, not wanting his voice to carry to their unseen spectators.

"I smell tobacco I smell in past, in Spinning Coin. Very strong. It is here, now, coming from rocks above us. Not know if scout or ambush. But should know."

Then his voice rose higher, tone almost antagonistic, abrasive, playing the Simple Savage role for every miza it was work for his invisible audience.

"Must stop for female! Trip and almost hurt." His hand slid to the bow over his shoulder, loosening it slightly. "And have walked up damn stones for bells. Need rest and water."

[Edreina]

Stone was not so different from the deck of a ship, Edreina had learned years earlier. Though it was more unpredictable, it still shifted and rolled and bucked beneath her feet. Anyone light enough of foot could learn to traverse either surface with the utmost ease. Sure, the motions of the stone were often unexpected and she occasionally stumbled, but she never fell flat on her face. That she saved only for flat, motionless earth.

And so, when Edreina found herself hurtling towards the earth, it was more than a bit of a shock. She cried out sharply as the loose, sharp stone bit into the arm she used to brace her fall. When Razkar leaned in to help her up, the woman nearly shouted at him, years of spelunking -where even a simple fall could mean death - coloring her anger. If this was his idea of a joke-

The woman stilled, listening in silence and doing her best to keep fear from leaking into her features. So they were being stalked? Gods... They had not even made it to the caves yet. Out here they were so exposed, vulnerable... It made her skin itch. But, at least now she was aware of the danger which would keep her from traipsing about aimlessly as she was so frequently tempted to do each time she saw a crevice or a overhang that might have hidden a cave.

And so, when he did help her up, Edreina tore her arm from his grasp angrily and tromped off after the knights. At his command to mind her feet, Edreina felt a tinge of, while irrational, very real annoyance flare up. The Svefra leaned over and plucked a small stone from the earth and hurled it at him, aiming for it to go wide. As it whistled past him, she made a very rude hang gesture and then turned back to the trail.

The cuts on her arms were wide and many but rather shallow, and so few bled. What hurt the most were the little stones that attempted to make a home in her flesh. And so, as she walked, her nimble fingers started to pinch and pull the bits of rock from beneath her skin. It was a gruesome and painful process that left her fingertips a sticky red, but a necessary one. Now she just needed to stop for a bit and wash it out.

"Almost hurt!? Does this look anything like almost to you? Petching savage..." she held her battered arm and bloody fingers aloft just long enough to make an impression. It felt horrible for her to be so rude to him, but he knew she was just acting - mostly. And besides, the more they looked like a weak, disharmonious unit the more that the bandits would underestimate them, she figured.

Glaring at the ground, she shifted her rucksack forward and removed the water skin. With as little water as possible - who would have know that a Svefra, who spent every moment of her life surrounded by water, would think to conserve a water ration - Edreina cleaned off her wound. Her spare roll of linen was removed from the rucksack immediately after and used to cover up the raw skin. The rough fabric caused the wound to smart so terribly that the Svefra found her eyes watering, little droplets of liquid clinging to her lashes each time she attempted to blink them away.

Despite her "anger", Edreina walked a bit closer to Razkar, knowing that he would be her best chance at survival when and if an ambush came.

[Emblem]

"We're being followed." Ser Tylor cocked his brow at the Myrians word's as his companions turned their horses to the Myrian out of sheer curiosity. If they were in fact being followed they wanted to know about it. The Myrian spoke on, telling of the smell of tobacco, that he had smelt before. Well of course, anyone who frequented just about any tavern would be familar with tobacco's scent. But this wasn't a tavern. This was a mountain road. As Mat and Ayden silently listened, the mask's hiding their emotions started to fall apart. Ayden had said is himself earlier, ambush weather. Suddenly their senses became focused, searching, the air for that smell, and listening for those shifting rocks. It didn't take long for the smell of tobacco to fill their nostrils. "Sir, he may be right, ambush weather. It's like what Ayden said, Remember? Ambush weather. Plus I think I caught a whiff of that tobacco" Mat said somewhat nervously. "What?! You are just paranoid now since he mentioned it" Tylor responded. "Still, I do think rest would be good. We've been walking for a while, and I'm sure we are getting closer. Want to retain strength right?" Ayden smirked looking back at the Svefra and Myrian. "Fine! Fine." Tylor sighed. "Alright Myrian have it your way, but drink up because this may be your last chance. And make sure that Svefra of yours is ready for the caves" With the party paused in the fog, resting, men were making their moves. He and his companions moved as quietly as one could in the rocky terrain. Descending the steep rocky mountain wasn't the most graceful of things, especially in awkward leather armor that didn't quite fit right, or swords that lacked balance. But those are the things you settle for when you decide that city life isn't for you. He ducked behind a large boulder, and then moved down to the next one, and the next. Eventually they could see the road through the mist, as well as resting party. "You ready?" he asked as he took the longbow from his back. "Ready as I'll ever be" another responded as he drew a longsword clad in iron. The other's simply nodded drawing their own weapons, none of which were too fancy. Maces, old swords, wooden shields, one even carried a club. Their equipment was nothing compared to that of the Syliran Knights. Once the men were ready, the leader, the archer, took his aim. He would take out one Knight before his men charged, and his target was obvious. He held his bow out in front of him with his left hand while his right reached behind him, drawing an arrow. The man nocked his arrow, and drew the draw string with little effort. He had done this before. With his target at the other end of the arrow, he took a deep breath, and released with near perfect form. With a whiz the arrow left the bow, cutting through the thick air. The arrow easily punched through the mail, and lodged itself in the flesh of it's target. And then the rest rushed down the slope. With a scream Ser Tylor plummeted from his horse towards the rocky earth, an arrow sticking from the left side of his abdomen. "Petcher! He gasped as he clenched his wound. Ambush Mat thought to himself. "Ambush!" Ayden screamed as he used both hands to draw his claymore. Mat immediately held his shield up, while stumbling for his sword. While the bandits rushed down the hill towards the rest of the party, Ser Tylor began crawling for cover behind a boulder. His reimancy could still be useful, even in all of his pain. Sitting himself up against the boulder, hiding himself from view, he formed a small fireball in the palm of his right hand. He leaned around the boulder with a grunt, and launched it towards one unlucky bandit charging his companions. He ducked back and prepared another.

[Razkar]

The call went out and their progress stopped but Razkar thought there was never a greater misnomer for what they were doing. This was no "rest"; they were readying. Tylor stayed atop his horse, eyes cautiously scanning the fog-shrouded rocks, but his two underlings dismounted and opened canteens, chatting easily. Razkar made a show of doing the same with Edreina, taking off his shortbow as if it was a burden, tilting up his head to drink from his water pouch.

Using the moment to peer up and up into the boulders surrounding them. Drawing an arrow from his quiver and placing with the bow. And, most importantly, making sure his... friend, was as prepared as she could be.

"They might attack now," he murmured, passing the water bag over, "Best time to hit men is when resting. Not expecting to be attacked; whole reason they resting. But now-"

The Myrian's tongue still in an instant and Edreina saw his ears twitch. Perhaps she heard it, too, but Razkar's senses were far sharper; what was possibly a noise for her rang like a distant bell for him. The light but unmistakable sound of rocks and stones knocked aside, clack-cracking against each other... the hushed whisper of smaller ones pressed down and away by feet...

Razkar glanced to his side, telling her (or hoping so) where the attack would come from. Behind her, a boulder, broad and tall that Tylor was ambling around, looking for all the world just impatient to be going.

"They are there." He spoke again, hand sliding to the bow and arrow and grasping both. He kept his eyes on Tylor, not risking alerting their unseen enemies by peering in their direction. "Get read-"

Tylor who screamed sharply and tumbled from the neighing, kicking horse with a foot of wood sticking out from under his ribs.

"Ambush!"

Then a roar from a dozen or more throats as the rocks came alive-

-and Razkar was already diving forward, half-jumping and half-running at a crouch, one arm gripping his bow and the other sweeping up Edreina and dragging her behind the same boulder Tylor was crawling to.

A tick passed, and everything changed. He felt the dull, old ink of his gnosis burst into life like it was a freh brand, took in the scene around him in that frozen, crucial opening salvo. Salvo... no, not a salvo. Just one arrow. No clouds or stream of projectiles peppered them from above; just careful, aimed shots from a single archer, by the looks of it.

"Edri?!" Razkar barked, shoving the bow and arrow into her hands and ripping off his quiver. "Stay here! Nee you to find archer in rocks! If see, call out, let all know where he is. If safe-" a dark hand shot out to grip the side of her face, firm but not cruel, forcing her panicked mind on his eyes "-only if safe, use bow. Keep his head down-"

A whoosh and a purple flash from his right as the wounded Tylor proved himself far from out of the fight. The downed Knight would not allow a mere arrow in his guts to hold him back: he just snapped it off near to the wound, stopping the shaft from getting in his way, then summoned a ball of burning djed into his hand, leaned around the boulder and hurled it-

Even Razkar was impressed. The leather armor of the yelling raider practically melted to nothing on his torso, dripping down in steaming chunks... followed by the drip of charred and liquified flesh as the body under it was scorched and blackened. He fell back screaming, organs already cooking under the heat, weapons forgotten-

-but he had plenty of friends, and Razkar grinned, lips moving around words Edreina knew very well by now. He'd even taught her their means.

"Myri guide my hands," he murmured, filling his hands with trusted ax and gladius, back to the boulder, listening above the shouts and yells... the sound of approaching, running feet. "And Dira... my blades-"

The bandit thought he had them unawares, right up until Razkar's gladius swept around low from behind the boulder-

-and took his running leg off just below the knee. Incredulous, disbelieving, scream stilled and stymied on his lips, he toppled, using his mace as a crutch, staring down-

-then up as a shadow fell over him-

-an impossible nightmare filled his eyes; hewn muscle and flesh more scars and ink than bare skin; filed teeth and eyes so black and deep they couldn't be human-

-a curved ax raised above it all, then his own plea for mercy was drowned out by the shrieking warcry that was the last thing he heard.

"FOR MYRI!"

Razkar's ax split his head open like a melon and he ran on, ripping it free and splattering grey matter on the bare stone behind him. A dozen other figures were rushing into the fray, weapons of all kinds raised or waving, no semblance of uniform or identity among their clothing, but all sharing a simple, feral desire to overcome intruders into what they had decided was their domain.

The Myrian smiled. Fine by him.

The first swung a short sword at him diagonally and the Myrian slid to his left, blow missing him, sailing wide, human trying to make up for it with a backhanded sideways slash-

-Razkar swayed away from him, waiting until the blow was finished, bandit's arm pulled away from his body-

-gladius thrusting into his chest, crunching through his sternum-

-giving him enough time to cough blood and gape in pained shock-

-right before Razkar pulled his blade back and slammed another into the bandit's neck, ax delivering a finishing blow that near-decapitated the bandit-

-not even staying to watch him fall.

Around the sole warrior, the ambush played out its kind had countless times in the past. Moments of precious surprise and shock now turned to bitter retaliation, the Syliran Knights throwing themselves at their attackers with a fury born of paladins and the mad.

Ayden was bellowing some cry to Sylir as he swung that huge sword around like grounded lightning, smashing clean through one bandit's wooden shield and carrying on into his torso with barely a pause.

Mat was slower, more cautious, shield up as he crab-walked over to Tylor-

-who let loose another ball of flaming res that burned across the foggy air, crackling through condensation and shattering on the stomach of another bandit who fell down clutching his belly, doubled over and crying out as his guts began to steam and leak out of his body from places best left unmentioned.

The Myrian snorted his approval. Only one way to handle an ambush: hit back even harder. Don't let your attackers dictate the battle with their surprise and shock; throw them back to their hiding places, turn the tables with your own fury. Goddess knew Razkar had been on the other side of enough to know that.

"Bastard!"

Buoyed by their numbers and their surprise and perhaps something more, they kept on at them. Their victims were only... five, after all. The others that had journeyed with them had run, vanished by morning or evaporated into the fog, leaving only the trio of Knights, the girl and-

-whatever the petch that was.

The cursing bandit hacked down with one sword and Razkar's gladius blocked it, just as the dirk in his other hand lunged for the Myrian's stomach-

-Razkar spun away to the human's side, knees bending as he went, ax flashing low in a backhand-

-yet another man fell to the suddenly-scarlet stones and moss missing half a leg, Malediction-worked hand ax powerful enough to rip through bone and muscle like kindling. Armor would have helped the man, yes, but these bandits relied on speed and surprise, not clanking plates.

But he had spirit, anyway. Even crippled and probably doomed by blood loss, the bandit snarled and twisted around, trying to slash at Razkar one last time-

-only for the gladius to halt his blow again, knocking it back where it came from-

-and that damnable ax flashed down yet again, vertically-

The bandit blinked. An arm fell to the ground in front of him. It clutched a sword and his addle, dying mind took a tick to realize... fuck... that's mine.

Razkar spun on his heel and his gladius lashed out one more time. The dis-armed and de-legged bandit was de-capitated and the hairy ball of dead flesh fell with a tiny cough without its body.

The Myrian grinned at the stunned, sickened cries. Never underestimate what a beheading does for morale. It is a primal fear, losing that key to the body and the brain... use it against your enemy.

He whirled, still grinning-

-just as the archer decided he'd had quite enough of that fucking savage, and loosed an arrow his way.

[Edreina]

OOCHeh... I forgot. >,<

"Edri?! Stay here! Nee you to find archer in rocks! If see, call out, let all know where he is. If safe... only if safe, use bow. Keep his head down-"

Ok. This situation was serious and he was handing Edreina a bow. That was, most certainly, one of his worse ideas. Edreina was about as likely to strike one of theirs than one of those they were fighting. And so, when one of the bandits made their way around the stone, nearly falling upon Edreina before she spun, swinging the bow like a club with a cry and watching in utter surprise as it connected solidly with his squarish jaw.

Immediately, her attacker recoiled, sword tip attempting to dent the earth as its wielder slowed, eyes cool and calculating. The woman before him with a mane like fire looked utterly wild, crazed by her surprise and fear. That meant, to him, that she would be aimless in her attacks, but ferocious, cornered as she was. What he did not consider was that the woman would run from him entirely, turning tail and dashing up and over and around rocks in ways that would have made him trip. Oh well. He could get her when the others were dead.

Edreina was smart enough to know that she was not strong enough to fight him alone. But, she was fast enough to get away from him, to find new cover. From the shadow of another boulder, Edreina realized she had the perfect view of the archer as he cowered behind a large rock up on a ledge. He was being very quiet, watching the fighting below and picking his shots as well as he could. With her back to the stone, Edreina notched an arrow, knowing that her only option was, pardon the pun, a long shot. Edreina pulled the arrow back and rested it against her cheek as Razkar had taught her, aiming at a tree a short while off. Already, the bow pulled at her muscles in an unfamiliar way, making her have to fight to keep it from trembling. Once she had her sight down, she turned and slowly adjusted until she was aiming over the archer's head.

Without another instant's strength left, she released the arrow, remaining utterly motionless save for her fingertips. The arrow, as expected, sailed wide and clattered down behind the archer. But, the fact that an arrow had been loosed was enough to set him on edge. Was there another archer he had missed, he wondered, being more careful as to when he attempted to find a target.

In the meantime, Edreina worked at notching another arrow, attempting to keep her arm steady as she sighted again, stepped out from behind the stone, and fired. This one went too high, hitting the stone and shattering, but the pieces fell on top of the other archer. Were they not in the middle of a fight, Edreina would have laughed at the fellow's expression. But, this time Edreina was not quick enough in her hiding and was spotted. From then on, she could not even peek her head out without having to dodge a whistling arrow.

Her cover was blown. She needed to find a new place to hide.

Bow in hand, Edreina turned and sprinted from cover, back towards the boulder she had originally been hidden behind. As she ran, she felt something hard catch hold of her foot, sending her sprawling across the ground... again. Looking down, she found that she had been foiled by a simple stone. Gods damn it! Were she not so afraid, spelunking instinct would have kicked in and she would have been able to alter her course away from the lipped rock, instead of jamming her foot underneath it.

And yet, there she was, utterly exposed.

But it was not the archer that took the opportunity. Instead, a bandit ran over, yelling, preparing to stomp down on her. Ah hell no! Edreina rolled out of the way, moving so that her body was suddenly closer than he had expected, tripping him up, bringing him down to her level. She started to get up, to get away.

He was too quick. His arm lashed out and caught hold of ankle, yanking her over to him. Immediately, instinct kicked in and then, it quite literally kicked in. As in, Edreina started to lash out with her feet, propelled by powerful legs as she slammed them into his chest, his stomach, even his face if she could manage it. She worried not for his safety for he worried not over hers. When he refused to release her, Edreina started to pull herself forward, pulling against him with her free leg and her arms until her hands closed around-

Yes! The Svefra caught hold of a fist sized, savagely angled rock and, using the Bandit against himself, allowed her body to be pulled across the stone, back towards him. She twisted her body in the middle of being pulled, she ended up pinned beneath him for an instant as he started to rise to his knees, fists pulled back-

Only for Edreina to slam the stone into the side of his head.

He opened his mouth to yell, body tensing as his fists turned into arms to ward off further blows. The Svefra, faced with her death or his, chose the only approach, as far as she was considered. Without pause, the snarling woman caught hold of his wrist and pulled it aside, hammering the rock into the side of his head until he went limp against her. Even then, she slammed it into the back of his skull thrice more for good measure.

No one ever mentioned the smell of death.

The way it looked when someone's light left their eyes? There were endless stories of it. But, Edreina had not been focusing on her eyes. The sudden weight of a body as life left it, Edreina felt it crushing her. But the smell. That coppery, cloying, distinctly inanimate scent of violent death...

Gasping, on the edge of hyperventilation, Edreina pushed the limp body from her and ran for over, throwing herself behind the boulder as her vision was filled with red. Before she could realize how much danger it put her in, Edreina fell to her knees and commenced the emptying of her stomach onto the rocks around her, fighting sobs that threatened to choke her as she realized what it was she had done.

For myself, and for Myri, I have ended a life.

Her mind hesitated before darkening ever so slightly.

Glory to Myri...

[Emblem]

Ayden had been right, that was for sure. All that talk of ambush weather back at the camp, it all came true. Of course they were on the wrong side of the ambush this time, but the bandits had underestimated who they were attacking, a party specifically put together to deal with them. The Myrian reacted quickly and violently, engaging those who charged down the mountain. Ayden responded similarly, jumping into action next to Razkar. Ser Mat took a more defensive maneuver. As his commander limped his way into cover, Mat made sure to stick by him with his shield up, making sure no more arrows would penetrate his leader. But the archer had set his sights on a new target. That damned Myrian. Razkar's furious was costing the bandits too many lives, and the archer had grown sick of it. Reaching behind him he grabbed at the feathers on an arrow, and drew it from his quiver. He nocked it, and took his aim. A deep breath and finally he released his grip. His arrow stayed true. He just hoped that damned Myrian stayed put. The archer's gaze was interrupted when an arrow whizzed by the side of him, bouncing off the rocky surface around him. He perked up, quickly glancing around his hazy surroundings. Someone just returned fire. "Petch!" he cursed to himself. The archer picked himself up, and moved to another location, although inadvertently closer to who had fired that arrow. "Cover me while I do this" Ser Tylor yelled at Mat. Mat saw Tylor grab the shaft of the arrow, and realized what the man was about to do. Mat averted his eyes, and concentrated on protecting his commander. Tylor took a deep breath while gripping the wooden shaft, and then he let out a yell as he began struggling to pull the arrow from himself. It was slow, it was bloody, and it was painful. Mere inches of the arrow would come out at a time. And the pain grew with each attempt. Naturally all this screaming drew attention to them. And when a bandit wielding a shortsword approached to finish the job, Mat was more than happy to greet him. For what felt like an eon, the two simply gazed at one another; Mat's fiery eyes meeting the man's pale grey eyes. Mat acted stoically, being the only thing standing between his wounded commander, and this uncivilized killer. A wall. With a yell, the man recklessly charged Mat with all his energy, his shortsword lifted above his head. And once the bandit was in range he brought it down, hoping to cut into the weak spot in Mat's armor at his shoulder. But without even changing his expression, Mat used his shield, bashing is against the bandit's arm as it came down upon him. The bandit recoiled in pain, dropping his weapon on the dirt ground. Broken arm. Mat then used his shield again, smacking it against the dazed bandit's face. The bandit grunted falling backwards. Broken jaw. And finally Mat simply drew his longsword through the man's heart. Dead. Mat turned back and found Tylor panting, the arrow only half way out. The mage was breathing heavily as blood seeped through his armor. "I couldn't petching do it. It was too much" he gasped. "Dammit Sir, let me help you then" Mat responded. "Good lad. Try not to let me die..." Tylor smirked. Mat nodded, gripping the arrow for himself with both hands. With all of his strength, he pulled. Tylor screamed, begging for Mat to stop, let him rest. But Mat wouldn't. There wasn't time for that. He continued pulling, the arrow's bloody shaft slowly emerging. Mat grimaced, closing his eyes, but he never stopped. He was getting sick, but he would be even sicker if he let his commander die out here. And then with one final tug, the arrowhead came out with a small spray of blood. Tylor gasped, and Mat nearly vomited. "Good lad...good lad indeed" Tylor repeated himself. Next he lit a small ball of fire. "I guess reimancy has other uses..." he mumbled to himself as he placed the fire against his wound. He squirmed, clenching his teeth as his wound was burned shut. He gasped one more time, before closing his eyes. It was time to rest. Mat stayed by his side, making sure no one else would come this way. Razkar and Ayden could clean up the rest.

[Razkar]

His friend purged herself onto the stones, thick slime of her stomach contents mingling with the blood and brain matter beginning to flow freely from the skull she recently smashed open like a coconut. Horror, shock, pain and self-disgust roved across her face, pinching it, distorting it, and in a brief tick Razkar seemed to see them all on the crouching Svefra's face.

First time. Always the hardest... for the barbarians, anyway.

"Edri?!" He bellowed over the sound of screaming men and clashing weapons. "Cover! Get to-"

Something moved in the rocks above her. A flitting form, cloaked and sure-footed among the debris of the valley's walls... longbow in hand.

Drawing closer to the female.

The bandits were decimated but not yet broken; apparently this archer was the key to their morale. With his accurate, cold-blooded skills to draw from, the remainder of their little army still thought they had a chance... and judging by the damage wreaked on Tylor by just one arrow, they may have had something, there.

Razkar wasn't impressed. His lips curled into a rictus of hatred and he threw himself at the resurgent wall of renegades, hacking his way closer to his Edri-

-through a bandit with an old burn scar distorting his lower jaw, trying to cover it with a beard but it grew through oddly, in tufts and weird patches, now swinging a battle ax diagonally at the Myrian-

-who avoided it adroitly, backhanding the heavier ax with his own as it went hurtling by him, adding to its momentum, keeping it falling, hacking, biting into the ground and throwing the human off-balance-

-but Burns wasn't a complete fool, spinning around and lashing out wildly with the shield in his left hand while he was exposed, seeking to keep the Myrian at a distance-

No such luck, friend.

Razkar swayed back and let the circular disc of wood rimmed with metal jerk past his face and then hacked upward with his ax, rewarded with a scream as the human's arm was nearly bit through, shield arm ruined, blood racing down his arm, torso, Razkar's own arm-

-eyes blazing, determined to finish the savage who'd crippled him, swinging again with his ax-

-but weakly, body already dying, blow contemptuously knocked aside by Razkar, gladius already moving again-

-to skewer Burns through the breastbone, bones crunching like twigs under hobnailed boots as he shattered it, twisted the blade, ripped it free and released a fountain to blood-

"FUCKER!"

-just as another ran at him from the side, shortspear aimed at his guts, Razakar already spinning around and away from it, gladius flashing out as he went to knock it aside, ax swinging around backhanded-

-but Fucker was quick, ducking under it and backing away quickly, circling the Myrian and trying to play it smart, too, swinging around the spear and using it like a sword, ax or club, trying to slash at Razkar with the long, sharp tip-

Razkar grinned, teeth shining like a shark's under shallow water. A brave and innovative tactic... and utterly the wrong time for it.

He bobbed and weaved and Fucker soon found that the boulder-strewn valley floor was the wrong place for such a long, unwieldy weapon. Every blow that missed ended up smashing into a rock or hunk of stone, sending tremors up his arm, weakening his grip, always watched by the smiling, patient savage, sapping his own resolve until he swung again with a wild cry-

-only for Razkar's gladius to meet it on the way to his head, parring it in a curve over his topknot, keeping it moving-

-towards the boulder, sending the tip clanging into the stone-

"Fuck!"

-then pinning it as his foot lashed out, stamping on the shaft as one would a spider, hand ax slashing down-

-decapitating the weapon and then the Myrian spun around to his right, coming low, forcing the human back with a brutal backhand, Fucker still spitting out curses as he pulled back the useless stump-

-Razkar whirling back to face him, left arm cocked back-

-left foot lunging as soon as Fucker was back in his sight-

-bark of animal victory torn from his throat as his gladius thrust out, left arm exploding forward to impale the bandit, blow so hard and furious that it smashed through bone and muscles and organs until the weapon's hand-guard was soaked in fresh, spurting blood-

Fucker coughed and growled, but it sounded more like a wet gurgle, blood drooling from his lips as he sank to his knees-

-Razkar waited a precious, selfish tick until those mad dog eyes looked up at him... just long enough for him to see Razkar's screaming face as his hand ax swept around again-

-claiming another head that thudded onto the rocks without a body to trouble it any longer... and it was not alone.

Ayden was like a legend come to life and rampaging throughout the clearing, greatsword fully five feet long hacking through wood and bone and flesh and even metal like scythe through wheat. Bandits tumbled and scattered away from his huge swings, or died within its breadth. There was no alternative.

But Razkar could see there was more than the brute strength he'd always associated with such massive weapons: the Knight wielded it with control and finesse, too. Whenever a bandit dodged or ducked, leaving Ayden open, his iron-shod boots lashed out, or the blade reversed, stabbing, thrusting, leaving naught but bisected bodies and crushed weapons in his wake.

Movement caught the Myrian's eyes again, that fucking archer flitting over the rocks, closing on his target. Two more of his underlings, and Razkar knew that was what they were, rushed the savage at once, determined to overwhelm him with mace and bastard sword.

Razkar blocked Mace's bludgeon on his left with his gladius, lashing out at Sword's crotch with his boot when his weapon was raised over his head, doubling him over-

-hacking sideways towards mace but the human backed up a step, raising his mace again-

-but Razkar kept spinning with the momentum of his ax, whirling around, gladius flashing up again-

-and Mace screamed as he was suddenly robbed of his weapon, not to mention the hand that went with it, staring in shock at his stump-

-right before Razkar's ax slashed open his chest, ripping a gaping, bloody grin into his torso and sending him reeling back, Sword finally choking down his vomit and swinging low-

"Gods..."

Ayden's jaw actually dropped as he saw the Myrian leap up, twisting his body sideways in mid-air, bastard sword passing harmlessly underneath him, where his legs had been-

-bringing his ax crashing down onto the bandit's collarbone, crushing and cracking it like a rotten log, momentum and Malediction-empowered runes lending it even more strength, nearly amputating the man's arm as he stumbled back-

-as Razkar landed on his feet, body still twirling around, crouching, sweeping low-

-taking off Sword's left leg at the knee, human couching blood and screaming anew as he braced himself with his bloody, filthy stump-

He never saw the blow that battered and hacked half his head away, brain matter flooding from his shattered cranium, and his soul departed before his twitching body hit the stones-

"Reina?!"

She turned at the word. He... He never called her that! Then she saw a vision of horror, splattered in blood and viscera, gore-choked weapons clutched in each hand, face a mask of savage rlish but eyes dripping with concern, pointing to-

-the Archer-

-aiming at Edreina-

"No!"

-and Razkar flung his ax overhand like it weighed nothing, bone-bottomed weapon spinning madly through the air, so heavy it made a tiny whomp-whomp sound as it flew, drawing the Archer's attention, making the human jerk around along with his aim-

A bowstring twanged, almost blending in with the sound of a two-pound ax head crashing into a human torso at high speed, throwing the Archer back to the rocks, staring inanely down at the damned thing lodged under his breastbone...

Razkar chuckled... felt... warm... in his... mouth...?

His legs felt so heavy, now. Almost leaden. He looked down as one of them failed, annoyance clouding his features...

... followed by grim understanding when he saw the shaft of the arrow under his ribs. The Myrian blinked, and the word seemed to still around him, the roaring scream of battle dulled as if he was hearing it through a thick, cushioned helm. One one knee, he pulled at the arrow like it wasn't his arm doing it, then a spasm of ungodly pain had him choking and wincing and bent over-

"Petching savage bastard!"

The wolves circled, as they always did around the weak or wounded. Their leader was dead and their power shattered, soon to be extinguished by the Syliran Knights, but the remainder still had that feral lust for vengeance in their eyes. Time enough, they decided, for at least one kill, one... gesture.

The wounded savage. On his knees and skewered, alone. Shrewd, scared, rat-like eyes flickered from Razkar to Ayden to an emerging Matt and Ser Tylor, grunting to his feet with an aura of djed glowing from his hands. They knew they had to flee... but the Myrian had killed many of their friends. Many good lads who they'd drunk and fought and robbed and laughed with.

That had to be set right.

Before Edreina's eyes the few wolves not desperately trying to hold back the fury of Ser Ayden closed in on the crouching Razkar, and prepared to extract some small measure of satisfaction...

OOCOver to you, babe!

[Edreina]

After throwing up, there really was no better way to say that, Edreina wiped her mouth on her arm and rose to her feet a little shakily. The Svefra had been smart enough to move behind a rock but-

"Reina?!"

The word sent Edreina whirling. In their entire friendship, the Myrian had never spoken her preferred nickname... Only Edri. Something was wrong... Stilled by fear, she followed the line of the blade until she saw-

Gods

The archer had his arrow leveled upon her, and fear held her in place. If she ran, would she be tracked? Would he still be able to shoot her? Her hesitation was prolonged as she mentally wondered to where she should run if that was the best option.

And then, any choice was snatched from her as she watched, as if in slow motion, Razkar throw the ax at the archer, the archer - perhaps realizing his fate - whirled and loosed an arrow. Edreina could do naught but stand at the side as she observed ever inch of the arrow as it slid into Razkar's dark flesh. Into Razkar... The fiercest being Edreina knew to exist... And he was brought to his knees.

Something about the injustice of it all set the flame burning in Edreina's chest, banishing any traces of remorse she had felt for ending the bandit's life only a chime prior.

Three men, jackals, vultures - only the names of land-bound creatures would fit this breed of scum - advanced upon the fallen Myrian, a hunger for something so primal it escaped Edreina's knowledge for only a tick before she could name it. Revenge. They would take Razkar on only now that he was weaker, only now that he was alone and they were together.

But, the Myrian was not alone.

The body that advanced was not the Edreina that had shied away from the thought of punching another human, but the one that had been able to bash in the skull of an enemy with only a stone. She was lithe in her movements as she sprinted forward, leaning over long enough to snatch a stray club from the ground, only a feather's breadth from its previous wielder's dismembered hand.

Her second lesson from Razkar was implemented.

When finally she reached the trio, she was a whirl of endless motion, swinging the club with both of her hands on its makeshift handle so that it carried all of her might, all of her momentum. First, it landed on a man's elbow as he brought it up with a surprised cry to ward off her aimed blow to his head. She had never in her life wielded a club, so she was doing the most basic moves, aiming to end the fight as quickly as she could. The joint shattered and blood sprung forth so violently that Edreina felt a warmth on her cheek.

As the first bandit was stunned by the pain, slumping forward slightly, the Svefra brought into play her first lesson from the Myrian warrior.

With a groan, she brought the club back up, hoisting it over her head, to slam it into the side of the man's skull.

Little details registered with Edreina in that instant; his brown hair clad skull bent inwards, crackling oddly as the side of his eye socket collapsed inwards, puncturing the little orb with such power that the squashed shape fell from his skull, suspended only by the strangest of threads. A body of muscle long fought for - often quite literally - started to sag further forward, remaining eye rolling backwards as his breath halted.

But, because he was not dead, the redhead was not done. Arcing the club up and over the man's quickly falling body, she swung it again into the other side of his head. This time, his head snapped to the side in a sickening way as the club caught him in the jaw, covering the ground in small white stones-

Oh... Those were his teeth.

Finally, the man fell and Edreina looked up, blue eyes blazing, breath harsh as the club rested upon the hill of flesh at her feet, staring at his two companions.

She had caught the first by surprise. Would she be so lucky with these?

Little did she know, both men were quaking with fear. What hell-bound company had they chanced upon, both wondered.

"P-p-petch this!!!" No amount of gold, no satisfying revenge was worth his life, one of the bandits realized, turning to take his chances alone in the woods instead of with this feral woman and the unstoppable knights. Hells. The Myrian could probably still disembowel them despite his injury.

The second remained for a tick, fighting his honor, his desire for glory... The Myrian had killed his half-brother... But, revenge could wait a day. Or, at least, that was how he consoled himself as he also turned to run. And it was getting dark... And they were the only ones entirely left... If it were only the Myrian... If they did not have to fight others... If there was more gold in it for them...The excuses ran on.

At the sight, and the realization that the sounds of battle no longer echoed off of the trees around them, Edreina fell backwards, dropping the gore-coated club. Before her lay a man, face and skull mangled in such a way-

Unable to stop herself, Edreina leaned forward and heaved relentlessly though there was nothing left in her stomach. Gods. She had killed that man... She had killed him...

...like a savage...

Was that what her time with Razkar was doing to her?

Razkar.

Her stomach was still an angry sea, tossing violently, threatening to wash over the sides of her ship once more and render her unable to do more than lay there, catatonic with the realization of what she had done. Blue eyes saw a gory tint of red everywhere. But through it, Edreina was able to see the fallen warrior, was able to crawl over to him. "Raz? Razkar can you hear me? You're going to be ok! We're going to get you help!"

Why were tears suddenly filling her eyes at the sight of him?

A gentle hand upon her shoulder had her whirling, body curving protectively before Razkar's. He was already hurt! Just leave him-

One of the knights stood before him, armor dulled by dirt and gore.

The woman that had just beaten two men to death looked up with eyes wide, fear making her eyes innocent once more. "Help him... please..." Something choked her voice, causing her to simply move away as the knight motioned for her to do so.

All she could do now was watch... Watch and hope...

[Radiant]

OOCAlright, I tried to keep the same atmosphere. If I have any slip-ups or mistakes, please send a PM.

Ser Mat kept staying by Ser Tylor's side, guarding him in case those foul scums decided to attack them, but by the looks of it. They would never come back, at least not anytime soon. "We will get those lowlifes later, lad..." Tylor put a hand to the younger knight's shoulder, Mat nodded in acknowledgement. Syliras didn't tolerate criminals, they should all be put down by justice and by blade.

Ayden watched in barely-held anxiety at the sight of Razkar, he was bleeding badly, he needed help and fast. However, Ayden was no healer, he didn't have the divine touch of Rak'keli. What should he do? Should he just comforted the Svefra that it might her comrade's time to return to his Goddess? He shook his head, he was a knight, he was supposed to protect lives, not let it snuff away. He brainstormed for ideas, but Edreina's pleas were not helping.

Meanwhile...

The two fleeing bandits saw the accursed knights and their blasted didn't give chase. Good, they would gather more allies and return someday, enacting vengeance upon the self-righteous fools. However, Fate had other plans, a majestic howl echoed in the area, the bandits instinctively looked around in panic, that was when their eyes met with the shining form of a giant white wolf. The wolf didn't give them a chance to react, she simply charged and tore apart the two men with her large razor-sharp claws and fangs.

Five chimes later, back to the group...

A scream echoed as the damn arrow was pulled away from Razkar's body, they needed to act fast, blood was starting to pour.

"Alright, I'll close the wound." Mat and Tylor had regrouped with the group, the reimancer knight was holding a small fire by the tip of his right index finger, Mat was holding Razkar's body in case he squirmed. "This is gonna hurt, brace yourself!" Without giving anymore warnings, Tylor suddenly pressed his finger to Razkar's wound.

Ignoring the screams and struggles, Tylor keep doing the emergency medical procedure, burning flesh and skin to save Razkar from blood loss.

"Hm?!" Ayden, who was on watch duty, sensed a new presence heading to their direction. Did those scums come back? But his worry eased immediately when he saw the famous Dire White wolf Kelvic and guardian of the forest, Ama, swiftly moving to them "Madame Ama, we got two wounded."

Ama didn't shift to her human form, she knew what to do, Tylor and Razkar needed help immediately, explanations would come later. Though, the Kelvic could deduce they were hunting bandits and got wounded in the ensuing battle. Ama approached both Razkar and Tylor, gesturing for them to mount her back.

"Ah, Ama! I'm glad to see you here, aaagh!" Tylor winced as he stood up, his wound shooting pain throughout his body. With the help of Ayden, the knight mounted the dire wolf.

"Don't be worried, she's an ally" Ayden told Razkar and Edreina in case they didn't know about the wolf. "Come on, let's get you to her back, she will take you back to Syliras post-haste." He offered to help Razkar mount Ama. The rest of the group would have to travel back on their own, Ama couldn't carry that much passengers.