Mordin would've screamed in terror if he hadn't been paralyzed, he would've scrambled to his feet and made a run for it, if not for the ache in his arm, he would've hidden if he could've seen more than three inches in front of him. But with their fire distinguished, he was blinded by Malefius's light, and blinded again by the darkness that followed after it. Only the two, menacing yellow eyes remained, narrowing in absolute rage. Panicked, he began to back away, kicking his feet and dragging his weight across the ground on his healthy arm. The red flame that ignited into Thomas's hand gave Mordin just enough time to see Serana and William duck into hiding, just a few feet away from him. He followed their example and slithered himself through the same crack in the wall, backing off desperately until he bumped into someone's foot. Only then did he look up helplessly to meet Serana's eyes. Serana glared down at the boy. It wasn’t that she despised him or wasn’t glad to see him. Her mind was focused on the creature rampaging through the courtyard and how best to defeat, destroy, or distract it. So, when she looked into Mordin’s eyes, all she saw was a useless sack of meat staring back at her. For better or for worse, her motherly half kicked in and swatted away the cruel instincts that had kept her alive all this time. Her wasn’t a ‘sack of meat,’ he was a living, breathing person… and she should focus on keeping it that way. Be nice, she told herself. He’s only a child. “Where’s your old man?” she said, pulling the boy away from the wall -- the wall she feared the troll might crash through at any moment. The building seemed pretty sturdy, but it was no fortress and the troll was no featherweight. "I don't know," Mordin slurred. For a second, he was certain the woman would kick him out, no matter how ridiculous that sounded in his head. Luckily her cold stare was replaced by a faint spark of empathy and she helped him up and away from their onyx shield. "What is that thing?" he asked, bewildered. “I wish I knew,” Serana replied. “I think it’s some kind of giant,” William said, his voice cracking with fear. “Or a goblin or troll or something.” “I don’t care what it’s called. I just want to know how to kill it,” Serana replied as she went over to the crack to get a better look. Someone in the courtyard was armed with fire. The tall, thin figure was silhouetted against the flames, but it appeared to be the old man. "Thomas will save us," Mordin whispered, more to himself than anyone else. He looked at William, "this wouldn't be the first time." Thomas concentrated on keeping the flame in his hand alive. The trembling and shaking of the earth under the monster's weight didn't help. Nevertheless, he managed to keep it alive, even if only barely. The previous fight had left him tired, and it required all of his skill and concentration to let the magic flow into his spell. The red flame flickered, then turned into a hellishly blue orb. When his magic had reached it's crescendo, Thomas let go. Humming through the air like an angry swarm of bees, the magical fire hurled towards the troll's club, in an attempt to set it alight.
Nikko misjudged the troll's next step. Instead of hitting the troll in the knee as he had planned the sword hit nothing but air sending him off balance. Before he could readjust a heavy clawed hand smacked him from behind sending him flying into a nearby pillar. Nikko grunted as he hit the ground, grateful that the armor had taken the brunt of the damage. His vision flickered and his head pounded. Something warm and wet trickled down his face. He touched a hand to forehead, his fingers coming away red. Damn troll. He attempted to push himself up but only managed to get into a sitting position. Even that was enough to make Nikko lightheaded and dizzy. "Get ahold of yourself, girl. You're a knight of Highguard. You're not gonna let some light smack put you down, are you?" Despite his mental pep-talk, he wasn't going anywhere till the dizziness passed enough for him to stand.
Just before the ball of fire hit, a figure was tossed through the air like a ragdoll, landing some twenty feet away with a sickening crack. Distracted, the troll never saw the spell coming. The club burst into flame. Surprised, the troll dropped his fiery weapon, pieces of burnt skin tore lose from his bony figure and dropped with it. Pained and enraged, the cack-handed oaf tried to pick his club up again, only to injure himself further. Howling the monster stamped on his own weapon, scorching his feet, but putting the flame out, then he turned and began to plod away. Thomas covered his nose as the scent of burnt troll-skin began to sweep across the courtyard. For a moment, he was confident he'd scared the beast away. He couldn't help but smile smugly at Malefius. "See?" Mordin said as he peeked through the crack. "We're saf-" Roaring so loud that Thomas could feel his bones chatter, the troll returned, armed with what once had been a pillar. Mordin retreated his head and stared at Serana, as if to say do something. But he kept his mouth shut. Even though he was in no condition to fight, and had scarcely escaped their last battle, Mordin began to muster his courage. Thomas had saved him twice now, he was beginning to feel duty-bound to return the favor. The bloodthirsty demon hurled the debris haphazardly at the group, but hit the remains of the fountain instead, smashing it into pieces. Even through the clouds of pulverized stone, Thomas could see the troll was still very much alive, and preparing to throw another piece of rubble at them. It was then that Mordin, forcing his bodily pains into the background, stormed out of hiding, dagger gleaming in his clenched hand. "Back! Get back!" Thomas shouted as his apprentice sprinted into his eyesight. But Mordin didn't listen, hidden mostly from sight by the dark and the settling dust, he rushed forward. Thomas eyes were wide with fear, he couldn't afford to lose Mordin, the child was key to his endeavours. "MORDIN!" Nearly suffocated by the stench that surrounded the troll, the boy stabbed at the monster's ankle. Thomas resorted to his only remaining weapon. He picked up a stone and threw it at the troll's head. "OVER HERE, BONEHEAD!"
Key frowned as Nikko danced through the air and bodyslammed a pillar. "Careful! This city is hundreds of years old! Have some respect for history!" He glared angrily at Nikko before marching towards the troll, stopping just out of the troll's reach. "Here, let me show you how it's done. You simply prepare your sword–" Key's sword slid out with a clean ring and whistled as he lightly twirled it, "–and stick the bad guy with the point end of it." In three steps, Key closed the remaining distance which divided him from the troll and, finding nothing else to stab, plunged his sword downwards at one of the troll's feet.
“It seems the power has gone to his head,” Serana calmly remarked after Mordin stormed out of their hiding place, with a dagger in hand. He kills one moronic noblewoman and now he thinks he can take on a giant, she thought. Ah, to be young and foolish again… “We should help them,” William said, desperately tugging at her dress sleeves. “When ‘should’ becomes ‘could,’ perhaps we will,” Serana replied. “Until then, keep your head down and watch for an opening, dear. This is how the wise do battle.” “This is how cowards do battle,” William muttered under his breath. “What was that?” Serana said, despite having heard him quite clearly. “Nothing.” But, despite her reluctance to enter the fray, Serana knew she had to do something. Being defended by others wasn’t her style. She had an ice potion and a fire potion in her satchel, but there were too many others swarming around the troll to risk it. Still, she wasn’t completely useless. “C’mon,” she said and took William by the wrist as she darted out. “You want to be brave? You can start by helping me tend to the wounded.” Well, no one was wounded yet, but the young knight with the glowing sword had taken quite a thrashing. He seemed to be conscious, but dazed. Serana stayed close to the wall and waited until the troll’s attention was diverted before sprinting to the knight’s side. She removed her cloak and tossed it to William as she opened her satchel. “Cover the sword. We don’t want to attract that thing’s attention,” she said before turning her attention to the knight. “You’re too exposed here. We can get you to safety.”
A lovely woman knelt in front of Nikko and began rummaging through her bag. She was beautiful, no gorgeous. The perfect hair, face, body. For a moment Nikko felt a ping of jealously but that was quickly replaced by anger as she suggested taking him out of the fight and to safety. "I'm fine. I just needed a moment to recuperate." To prove it Nikko pushed himself up only to lean heavily on the pillar as another bout of dizziness hit. Serana moved back a step. She was prepared to let the knight fall flat on his face, to prove he wasn't ready to return to the fight. Fortunately, William was the more compassionate of the two; the boy caught the knight as he tottered unsteadily. He was only twelve, but the young knight was barely a head taller than him, and nearly as thin. "I have half a mind to let you stagger back out there and learn your lesson the hard way," Serana said as she slipped the knight's other arm over her shoulder, to support him, "but we can't afford more dead. Your day will come, but not here. If you die in this hole, you won't be remembered, boy. You'll be just another pile of dry bones in a lost city." Ignoring his protests, she began leading him back toward the safety of the building. Am I so weak that I must retreat from battle after a single hit? Nikko thought angrily. Perhaps that old wizard is right. Maybe I am just one of the fake knights only capable of regulated duels and silly sword fights. The thought made him angry. He'd been training all his life to prove the exact opposite to his father, to himself, to those around him. Nikko stood straight, releasing the woman and boy from being his support. "What sort of knight am I if I'm not willing to die?" "The sane kind," Serana said. His feminine jaw was set with fierce determination. "There are only old men and children out there to fight that creature. Thank you for your assistance, but I will not sit by in safety simply because I bumped my head." Ignoring the pounding behind his blue eyes he turned to rush back into the fight. "Idiot," Serana sighed after the boy was gone. William stared after him, with a look of… admiration? Serana punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Stop that," she said. She grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him toward safety. "C'mon, back inside with you. We can't save him from himself, dear."
A giant cave troll. Of course there was a troll, why wouldn’t there be, of course Marcus had been stupid to think that they had been through enough for one day, or evening, or hour... He ran to off to the side of the battle while the others started attacking the monster head-on; he couldn’t think of a good tactic that he himself could use to help, and he didn’t want to get in the way of the real warriors in the meantime. He certainly couldn’t weaken the ground under the troll’s feet to create a trap hole without knowing how stable the rest of the floor would be, he probably couldn’t disrupt the water that made it’s blood and organs without knowing if he would be putting his allies in danger of whatever toxins might be created by altering the water, and he probably couldn’t set it on fire without freezing the other people fighting – Wait, no, he did actually have an idea. He yelled into the chaos, “Excuse me, could one of the swordsmen come here? I think I can make your swords stronger!” Nikko happened to be right behind the magician who was yelling. "What do you mean, make it stronger?" He asked. After his recent failed attempt at attacking the troll he would take any help he could get. Marcus held back a scream as he twisted to face the person. "Di immortales, don't sneak up on an ally in the middle of a fight like this!" Nikko raised his eyebrow. The poor guy was seriously jumpy. Marcus took a second to regain his already-tenuous composure. "All right, sorry, I just mean that if I use a Fire spell to steal heat from the troll's body, than I can use it to make your sword as bright and searing as the day it was forged. It would only make the metal hot enough to glow instead of covering it with true flame, I would need to add another Earth spell on top of the Fire exchange to keep the metal solid enough to use instead of melting under the heat, and I wouldn't be able to take enough to freeze the beast in place, but I can certainly make your sword hot enough to cut through the beast's flesh and muscle more easily, if not it's bones. Would you like me to try it?" Nikko smiled. "If you can make Hemera burn as you say you can, we might have a chance at taking that thing down." He stretched out his sword in front of Marcus. "Do it." Marcus took "Hemera" in his hand, grinned at the young man, "If this works, just don't forget to keep your hands on the cold end," and cast "Glacignis, confirmo."
Mordin To his own amazement, the dagger connected. When he tried to jerk it loose however, the troll kicked its feet backward. Mordin tumbled to the floor and was nearly squashed by the underside of the beast's foot. Just then, Thomas's rock hit the monster square in the eye, causing it to stumble backwards and step over Mordin. Bathing in the sweat of panic, and with his dagger still stuck in the troll's ankle, the boy couldn't bring himself to his feet again. Hot drops of sticky, yellow troll-blood rained down upon him. Unwilling to catch the monster's attention he remained still, soaked in troll blood.
The beast howled as steel crunched through flesh. The moment Key's sword swung back up to freedom, the troll roared and desperately loped away. "Now, you'll notice that big things don't go down very quickly." Key waved his sword at Nikko, somehow unaware of the yellow paint which he was splattering about. "Typically, that leaves one of two options. One: You stick them with the pointy end again." Another display of bravado drew a thick yellow line across Mordin's face. "Clearly, such is not an option due to the rapidly increasing distance between the beat and us. This leads us to option two: you demonstrate your knightly chivalry and let the poor creature g–" Key disappeared into a cloud of dust as a wooden cabinet struck him from above and exploded. Luckily for him, the aged wood had given up on retaining form decades ago and served only to shower the knight with soot and splinters. His mouth remained open but still, shocked into silence by the sudden development. "Well then," Key shook his arms deliberately, summoning forth another cloud of dust, "does anybody have a bow or anything that can take our local tower-climber down? I'm not feeling very chivalrous today."
Finally the fires were extinguished with the help of the entire community. Now that they had time to pause and reflect, the shock began to set in. More than half the able bodied me of the hamlet had died in the fight. Wives now made widows, mothers and fathers bereft of their sons all began to weep. The sound was heart breaking. Isen held no particular love for the humans that tolerated his presence. In fact he he distrusted most of them. But he had still come to know them and he felt the loss as much as any there. The energy Regen normally carried with him had left. As he approached Isen, he wondered if it would ever return. This was the worst thing that had ever ever happened to the quiet community of Idlewild. "What do we do now?" Regen asked, the normally superior tone gone from his voice. He seemed like a lost old man now. "Leave," was the flat reply. Regen was about to protest when Isen cut him off, "At least for the night. And most of tomorrow. When these... men don't come back there's a chance they'll send some one looking for them. I don't know how organized they are but thirty men is a big number to just vanish." Isen grew quiet. That was probably the most he'd said at once in the few years he had been in Idlewild. Regen was still mad but unfortunately for him Isen was also right. He turned to began getting the villagers together. Once the quietly sobbing villagers had formed a troupe Regen again came to find Isen. "We're ready," he told Isen. "Take them to the Lockland Split," Isen told him. The Lockland Split was a point in a small river where it split into two right below violent rapids. "The noise from the rapids will make it hard for any trackers or scouts to find you. I'm staying here. If its only a small number scouts they'll go back and make a report. Anymore they may try and follow you. I'll be able to lead them on a wild goose chase around the mountain till they're good and lost." Regen just nodded and made to leave, he paused, "Thanks." Isen was a little surprised at even that coming from Regen. He watched the group make their way off into the darkness. Settling down in the ruins oF one of the houses, Isen mulled over the nights events. The glowing red eyes unsettled him. He thought back to the witch. They had killed her hadn't they? She couldn't be behind this. His eyes turned up to the glow from the burning mountain city, a knot of fear in his stomach for his friend Malefius. The old wizard was possibly the only person left he could call friend. The only one that treated him as an equal. Come the morrow he'd have to find out one way or the other what jad become of him. For now though he'd wait and watch.
Annette screamed and dodged the troll just as its foot came down where she had been standing. The backswing of its club caught her across the shoulders, though, and she tumbled across the ground, coming to a painful halt in a pile of sharp rocks. "Uhnn..." she didn't move for a moment, stunned, then the warm trickle of blood crossing her face caught her attention, and she struggled to get up. "Jinx? Jinx!" she yelled, then sighed in relief when she spotted the kitten several feet away and coming towards her on tiny legs. Thank goodness cats always landed on her feet. Helping the little one up onto her shoulder, Annette winced and crouched low as all Hell broke loose. Blood leaked from several lacerations in her back, legs, and arms, as well as a gash in her forehead that bled profusely, but otherwise she felt okay. No broken bones, so she could still move. But what do we do? That thing will kill us all if we don't act fast! she thought, then spotted Raven not far off. Surprise and relief washed overAnnette as she realized that at least one other person that she knew had survived. Raising a hand high, she waved to try and get the other girl's attention, but Jinx had a better idea and yowled at the other cat. Wasn't his name Shadow? Yes that's it. One of the knights attacked the troll, but was wounded in the process. It's only a matter of time untill it kills one of us, Raven frowned, but she didn't bother showing herself to the beast; she was just fine hiding here. A knife wouldn't do much harm anyway. Raven looked at her cat when Shadow rubbed himself against her legs, obviously trying to get her attention. Raven turned around. She realized the kitten must have caught Shadow's attention. Jinx and Annette, Raven thought; she was glad to see one of her friends had made it out. After a short look at the troll Raven quickly made her way to Annette. The girl was wounded, but Raven didn't think Annette's injuries were as bad as they appeared to be. "What's the matter?" Raven whispered, even though there was no need to whisper. "And what is that thing?" "Cave Troll. I'd thought they were only in myths, but I guess whoever wrote that book i read on their kind knew what they were talking about. We need to find a way to beat it." Annette looked into Raven's eyes and saw the doubt there, "-okay, yeah, what can two servant girls do? But I do know that since that guy-" she said waving towards the troll with a wince, "-hates light, it must be vulnerable to sunlight and may turn to stone if exposed. But that's just a theory. Still, what weaknesses do every animal, human, or monster have? Look at the anatomy. If someone were to pierce its hide somehow and hit a major artery, possibly in the ankle, we could kill it. A stab in the eye would have the same results." "The only problem is, I read that they had nearly impenetrable hide except on the bottoms of their feet. Now that may be wrong, but nonetheless we need to at least try and strike at every weakness. You and I can't do much, but what if we find some really sharp rocks and bury them point-upwards? Then i could get that thing's attention and have it chase me into the trap." Annette probably smelled the tastiest out of all of them, and though confronting that towering, skeletal monster scared her wits out of her, she knew that unless she acted fast, someone was bound to die. "And if that doesn't work... well, at least i may distract it long enough for you guys to escape." "I'm going to go and try to stab it in the eye. You set up the stones." she hissed, then took off before the other girl could get another word in. Running over towards the troll until she was within several yards of it, she paused and prepared to throw the blood-blackened knife. Maybe the troll wouldn't see it coming until it was too late. "HEY! COME AND GET ME YA BIG BULLY!" Annette yelled at the top of her lungs, drawing the monster's attention. Waiting until it turned fully around and got a whiff of both old and new human blood on her, Annette mustered what little courage she had and flung the dagger, the blade turning end over end as it headed towards the troll's face. With luck, it might stab and eye and possibly pierce the brain, killing it, or fly right into the creature's mouth. It would be messy, but that would lead to its death as well. But for now, she turned tail and ran as fast as she could.
Mordin, Thomas. Covered in troll blood, Mordin tried to wipe it off using his sleeve. The yellow substance smelled like rotten eggs and, as Mordin involuntarily discovered, tasted even worse. His stomach almost released the mushroom soup trapped inside, but Mordin covered his mouth in the nick of time and swallowed the urge to vomit. Unarmed and injured, there wasn't much he could do. Thomas rushed to his side, narrowly avoiding the many furnishings that were being thrown at them. Spotting the scowl on his mentor's face, Mordin couldn't decide who he feared more, Thomas or the troll. "What were you thinking!?" Thomas exclaimed as he shook the boy. "Are you hurt? You could've-" The deafening crash of yet another cabinet smashing into smithereens made Thomas delay the reprimand. "Stay," he commanded. Mordin shrunk into a little, smelly pile of trembling bones and obliged. Enraged, Thomas borrowed from his internal reserves. Just when a stone statue was about to hit him in the face, the air stirred as Thomas attempted to flip the momentum, trying to hurl the object back at the troll. But his magic had been drained. Conjuring up fire out of thin air was no mean feat, to do it twice within an hour was nothing short of exhausting. With a smack the statue knocked Thomas over, the side of his head were it had struck felt numb and unresponsive. His spell had hardly decreased the impact and Thomas was patting his face, as if to make sure it was still there. He scrambled to his feet, stumbled over towards Mordin, but the boy had disappeared. "Dammit!" Mordin had climbed through an open window in the manor and stepped inside. When his eyes had adapted to the darkness, he spotted a decorative spear on the wall, covered in cobwebs. It looked like it would fall apart upon touching it, but there was nothing better around. He had to stand on his toes to reach it and jerk it loose from the wall. Now armed, he stormed outside and narrowly avoided being crushed by a large boulder. He didn't waste any time and lobbed the spear high into the air, hoping it would land upon the enraged troll.
Raven turned around just in time to see how the troll threw a wooden storage at Annette. Prompted by rage rather than courage Raven drew her knife and threw it at the monster. She aimed for its head; she did not really caring what part of the head she would hit as long as her knife would find its way to the monster, but she hoped to hit the troll in the eye. She didn't wait to see how her attack turned out though, instead she ran for cover to avoid getting killed by the raging troll.
Annette The snarl sent a bolt of pure fear down her spine, causing Annette to make the one mistake that she shouldn't have. She looked back. The troll hadn't snarled in pain, it hadn't even seemed startled -instead, it was even more enraged and had flung a full-blown dresser right towards her head. Knowing that she wouldn't escape it's path, Annette grabbed Jinx by the scruff in a bid of desperation and flung the kitten away just as the dresser struck. Impact. Annette wasn't aware of anything but numbing pain as her body crashed down on the rocks again, the dresser breaking in two over her and leaving a crumpled mess behind. Annette felt bones break under strain, then the bite of onyx like teeth in her side and shoulder. Her head cracked against something, and she was knocked out instantly, rendered to the blissful nothingness of the void. A thin stream of blood began to trickle from the corner of her mouth.
Mordin, Raven. Mordin couldn't believe it, his spear had pierced the troll's skin, but the beast was still alive. What did it take to kill it? From the corner of his eye he saw a dagger spin through the air. His eyes didn't need to follow it, the spluttering of the troll told him that it had hit. Raven had aimed for the troll’s eye, but the movement of the monster made her miss the eye; instead the knife ended up in the troll’s throat, causing him to lose his grip and fall. Raven only realized the troll had to be dead at the moment she heard the sickening crack as the creature that had once been alive hit the ground. She turned to the young boy who had thrown the spear -she thought someone had called him Mordin- and smiled at him. “Nice throw,” with those words Raven walked toward the troll’s dead body. Mordin looked up at the girl, with her dark hair and eyes, she'd practically appeared out of thin air. He was about to say something back, but thought better of it and lazily slumped after her towards the downed troll. She carefully grabbed the handle of her knife and pulled at it. It took all of her strength to free the knife from the troll’s throat and when Raven finally held her weapon up it was covered in sticky yellow troll blood. “Gross…” Mordin just looked down at the dead beast. It didn't look quite as menacing now, more like a pathetic creature, forced to survive in the dark and feed itself with rats. If the troll hadn't tried to kill them, he would've felt sorry for it. He plopped down near the troll corpse, and watched the girl jerk her knive loose. Now that the dust of battle was beginning to settle, Mordin noticed just how cold the caverns were. He shivered and brought his kness up to his chest to keep himself warm. "Nice throw," he murmured, nudging towards the blood-stained dagger she held in her hand.
James James ran full tilt into the courtyard, narrowly missing crashing into Malefius as he came to a halt, skidding a little in the pools of slippery, yellow liquid that littered the floor. Started suddenly from his reverie in the dwarven house by ear-piercing screams and great, angry bellows that made the ground shake, James had exited the house as quickly as he could, trying to find his way back to his fellows. He followed the commotion as best he could, but the darkness and the unfamiliar surroundings had thrown off his normally excellent sense of direction, and he arrived moments after the action had finished. James inhaled, smelling the sharp, musky odor of troll blood. He picked his way over the blood-spattered cobbles towards the giant troll, but was distracted from his quest by a faint moan coming from his right. He turned quickly, and saw a girl, who would have been stunningly pretty but for her unnatural position and blood-smeared face, trapped under a chest of onyx drawers. He ran over and started pulling the dresser off of her, hoping not to injure her more. Once he shifted the cabinet, he realized that both her legs and at least one of her ribs were broken, and he winced internally. He looked at her unconscious face, trying to recall her name – Annabell? Anastasia? Annette – that was it. He looked around for Marcus, hoping his spells would be able to help her.
The over powering smell of blood was horrendous, Tyson staggered into the middle of the courtyard, he had been hit by a swinging troll fist and had sent him flying a good 10 meters, luckily it hadn't killed him, only causing him to have a pounding headache that left him in a daze, we wobbled and looked at a distant figure he recognised but had yet not seen for a little while "James?" he called out looking at the young man, his good friend
James, Mordin, Thomas, Annette, Jinx. James couldn't see Marcus anywhere, but he saw another boy standing near the troll. He remembered seeing that boy - Mordin, he thought, hanging around with the druid who had helped Lord Jaros. Maybe he'd be able to help. "Mordin!" James called, his voice dry and scratchy from the stone dust that floated through the air, "Come quickly! I need your help!" Surprised at hearing someone call for him, Mordin turned around and looked up at James. He had no idea who the scrawny boy was or what he needed help with, but rose to his feet anyway. A mixture of sweat, troll blood and troll saliva was trickling out of his hair, down his face, as if he'd been standing in the rain for half a day. He would've cared if not for the pounding ache in his arm and the chilling emptiness that had settled in his heart. Wobbling like a drunken beggar, he walked over to the brown-haired, dark-eyed boy, and met his eyes with a questioning gaze. James beckoned hurriedly to the boy. He glanced down at Annette, her blood-stained face lit by the flickering torchlight. She was white as a cadaver and, for a moment, James wondered if she really had died. But then she gave a weak groan and drew a shallow breath. James looked up again as the boy came to his side. "She's been hurt. Badly," he said, almost frantic now, "Is there anything you can do?" Mordin tottered to a halt near the downed girl. "I don't think-" His brows knitted into a frown, "Thomas doesn't want me to but-" Lowering himself to Annette's height he let his eyes sweep over her, brushed her hair from her forehead and began to mutter some garbled, guttural words. He kept his own paling hand pressed against her head, his lips set into a grim line. Slowly, but steadily, the confidence in his voice grew. Thirty seconds passed before he drew his hand away and eyed the result. "I don't think it worked," he said. The muscle in his jaw tensed, "it never does." Annette lay still for several painful moments, leaving both boys doubting that she would even come awake. But then, after several seconds, her eyes fluttered open and she blinked. "Okay," she croaked, "I think I'd rather be dead. Or am i dead? That would mean you-" Jinx's mewl cut off her words and Annette turned pain-glazed eyes toward the kitten who was bounding towards them on three legs. The sharp stones had cut into her other paw, but otherwise she looked fine. Annette smiled weakly and didn't protest when the kitten started rubbing up against her face. They were both relieved to be alive. Still, Annette winced when she tried to move. Pain lanced up from both her legs and her lower ribs. Broken. No way was she going to be able to get up and walk. Looking over at the two boys when her vision cleared, Annette's eyes widened momentarily when they came upon James, but the blood covering her from head to toe disguised any other reaction. Wow. Nearly dead after a troll attack and you still find the energy to blush. Great job! a small part of her sniped. Mordin gave Annette a cow-eyed look. His jaw nearly unhinged in surprise and he smiled a bright laugh at James, the first in many months. "Mordin!" The boy flinched. "What are you doing?" Thomas came rushing out of the darkness. For the circumstances, the mage appeared to be healthy. There was a small, ugly bruise near his temple and the hollow look in his eyes betrayed exhaustion but otherwise, he looked determined to press on. He looked at Annette, then Mordin. "You haven't...have you?" The boy's breath seemed to falter for a moment as he trapped his tongue between his lips. Ignoring the girl at his feet, Thomas grabbed Mordin by the arm and pulled him up. "You shouldn't have-" The apprentice jerked himself loose. "Why not? Why can't I?" "Because you don't know your limits! You shouldn't use magic until you do!" "I can't always help it," Mordin pleaded desperately, "please..." "No." That simple word managed to do what the troll could not, it killed Mordin. The boy cringed and was on the verge of collapsing knees-first onto the floor. But his mentor kept him upright. Thomas would deal with Mordin later, when there were fewer prying eyes about. For now, he turned his attention to the meager boy and the servant girl. "Let me be of help," he offered. Mordin looked on from under his lashes, his pupils were ablaze like smouldering embers. From the dark, he watched James and Thomas lift Annette up and carry her to where their fireplace had been. He shuffled after them, with only his thoughts and the tiny cat that stalked worriedly after Annette for company. The cat clearly belonged to the girl. Mordin hesitated for a moment, then picked it up and caught up with the others.
Nv'Idyor's Darkness The noise of bones cracking on the ground echoed into the air and in the few moments of silence that followed, more screeches could be heard, far off in the darkest corners of the cavern. The shrieks were painful and deafening, striking fear into the old man’s heart and he gazed up in horror to see the walls of the cave moving, clawing their way towards Nv’Idyor with vengeful yellow eyes. “Grab the injured, we need to leave.” Malefius commanded, not before twisting the spear from the fallen troll’s spine. Raising his edgewood staff in the air Malefius released shards of blue light from its tip, which floated in the air and fell down on the group like gold dust. They all watched as tiny flecks of sapphire lightly caressed their skin, fading together and leaving behind still mirror images. Malefius stepped back to inspect his frozen double, clearly unimpressed. “Hmmph, my nose isn’t that big… is it?”He said with a grump. As if on cue more screeches crashed through the cold dark, the yellow eyes glaring at Nv’Idyor as they closed in. “Now is not the time, you old fool.” Malefius muttered. Quickly grabbing up the supplies and wounded, the group worked their way through narrow dwarven roads, the harrowing cries from behind drawing ever nearer, and they found themselves struggling to find a path through. Many onyx buildings had collapsed into the ancient streets and cut off their exit, forcing them to pass through uncomfortably small houses, where the ceilings were too low and the rooms too dark. The shrieks outside were thunderous now and wildly hysterical, accompanied by the sound of clubs cracking over rock. “They must have found our decoys, we must hurry!” Malefius said. Raven led the way through the darkened homes and Key backed her up with his longsword, while the rest held onto their coattails. Malefius’ large frame arched under the low smooth stone ceiling and James struggled behind, following the mage’s staff light whilst carrying the unconscious Annette. Naturally, Mordin stayed close to Thomas to support the injured wizard, especially when he stumbled, and Serena swiftly led William through the pitch dark corridors, practically pulling his arm off to get to the exit. Bringing up the rear were Marcus and Tyson, who pushed on despite their collective injuries, while Lydia held the wounded knight Nikko under her shoulder. As one they all carved a path through the darkened ruins, clambering up leaning pillars and down through holes in the floor, before bursting out onto the edge of Nv’Idyor. Nothingness greeted them with a dark smile. Raven and Key grabbed hold of Malefius’ robe to stop themselves from tipping over the edge, and he too had to keep his balance as the rest pushed forward to see. Their boots scrapped to a halt, knocking small chunks of debris over the edge and into the gaping pit below. That had been too close. “I’m not seeing an exit. Is anybody seeing an exit?” Key said with flat exuberance. Scanning the area there was nothing to be found but darkness and old ruins, and the piercing screeches behind were closing in fast. “The old man has clearly lost it. Who’s idea wa-“ “Oh stop blathering on, you buffoon.” Malefius cried. Touching his staff to the pit he called out, “Illumanantis!” The rest could only watch in awe as the abyss began to flutter with a white glow, the black painted rope bridge swaying in the cavern winds revealed to all. “Everybody across, let’s go!” Crash! Looming shadows from behind emerged on high, the sapphire light revealing their stretched brown skin and sharpened teeth, with those demonic yellow eyes bearing down. From the rooftops they screeched in delight at their next meal and tore a path down the ruins, surfing through the blackened rubble and debris. There were three at first. But as the screams ascended into ear splitting anarchy, more and more of them found their way to the roped bridge, snarling at the fleshy insects trying to cross. The group had only made it half way across when the first troll reached the bridge. The beast howled with enraged joy, its teeth grinding together with gristle and bone, and in its pleasure the troll began to thrust its head into the bridge, butting the wood with ferocious might. The tremors were waves, crashing into the rickety driftwood and throwing all on board over the sides, barely managing to hold on. Malefius fell sharply on the bridge collapsing on top of Raven and together they slid down the planks, whilst another barrage of head butts trembled across. Raven scrambled with all her might to grab at something, anything that would help stop her fall, and her fingers narrowly latched onto a wooden slat. But sadly, the old man fell away into the darkness, his reactions slow and his hands weak. He missed the rope bridge and slipped into the abyss below, only for his fingers to find Raven’s ankle and grab on tight. The heavy jolt tore pain through her body and the plank snapped from the rope, flinging them both further into the darkness. No, not like this thought Malefius as he fell, his stomach lurching into the pit below. Another jolt of pain, the plank stopped falling, still connected by another rope on the other side. Raven and Malefius hung together in the air, relieved at first, but they soon watched with wide eyes the cord turning into string. They flinched at every snap of fibre, the rope slowly thinning before their very eyes. “Give me the staff!” Nikko shouted. His wounds were still raw but he held his balance well under the torrent of tremors, and he lowered his hand under the bridge. Malefius slowly obliged, struggling to push the edgewood staff up to meet the Knight’s hand. Yet, the soft leather boot wrapped around Raven’s ankle began to slip and Nikko could not reach the staff. Sweat had loosened her footwear and it could not hold the old man’s weight, all the while the rope was reducing to the finest wire. The boot fell. The rope snapped. And the staff was grasped. Nikko summoned all his strength to keep hold, the bridge planks cutting into his chest. Malefius dropped the boot and quickly snapped plummeting Raven’s wrist, swinging her wildly underneath him, dangling in the cold dark. Every muscle in his body ached as he stretched his body to hold both her and the staff, and Malefius bit his lip at the thought of dropping the girl, sweat glistening in his palm. But up on the bridge, Marcus, Tyson and Lydia raised Nikko off the bridge floor and together they pulled the old man and the young girl out of the darkened depths of Nv’Idyor. The trolls had started crossing though. Each step with sharpened claw caused the bridge to bend and groan, followed by the sound of ropes pinging off the slats. With no time to catch their breath, Raven, Malefius and their saviours bolted across the swaying rope bridge, repeatedly thrown off balance with every troll stomp. There were now six trolls, sprinting across the twisted wood in a desperate attempt to kill the humans. The bridge could take no more. The last snap snarled through the cavern, lurching all their stomachs downwards into the darkness below. Most of the group had only just crossed, save for Tyson and Marcus, both running as fast as their feet would carry them. The bridge fell away and all they could do was dive for the opening in the rock face, coursing through the air while the trolls fell miserably to their deaths, their yellow eyes wide until the end. The boys were not going to make it though, and as one the group stretched their hands out to catch them, dragging them down on safe, solid ground.
Isen had been sitting quietly in the ruins of the house nearly motionless. For a long time he heard nothing. Saw nothing. In the early hours of the morning before the sun had even begun to rise he heard something. Faint even to him. What was more interesting was the direction. It came from the direction of the hidden cave path. Contrary to popular belief elves can not inherently communicate with animals. That didn't mean they couldn't still tell him something. He could distinguish more different calls then humans he found. What he was hearing now was the sound of day birds startled from their slumber. One thought. The trolls. Something stirred them up. He wondered if it was more of those red eyed men. He hoped so. He thought he would go find out. Slinking through the shadows he slowly and silently made his way around the mountain side. Winding his way up he could still hear the agitated chirps ahead of him. Finally reaching the mouth of the cave just in time to hear the sounds of loud roars fading. Gingerly Isen stepped into the cave. Creeping along he was able to make out shouts. As he crept up he came to a bend, close to where the old bridge was. Drawing an arrow he fitted it to his bow and leaned around the corner. The sight before him wasn't what he expected. A group of people slumped around breathing heavily. One figure he recognized, though it seemed so unusual he questioned it. Their eyes weren't glowing. That was enough for him. He had to know though. Taking a chance he called out softly, "Malefius?"
Raven's arms hurt, as did her legs, her feet and pretty much all of her body. The fact that the pain would be worse once she had taken time to rest didn't exactly brighten her mood either and on top of that she would have to walk on her bare feet until they reached a town... if there were still towns to be reached. Raven made a mental note to remind the wizard of the fact that he owed her new boots. "And I thought I would get away with only a few scratches... before we reached that damned bridge anyway," Raven muttered to herself. A soft sound somewhere away from the group of people drew Raven's attention. The sound was almost too soft to be heard by a regular human, but Raven's senses -enhanced by lots of practice, starting a very young age- picked up the sound and recognized it, even before she had really realized she had heard something at all; they weren't alone. Raven drew her knife and got to her feet without a sound. The sharp stones and rocks cut into the skin of her feet, but she didn't pay attention to it; she was looking for the source of the sound she had heard. She noticed the creature -the person?- soon, even though what she saw was hardly more than a shadow that was not supposed to be there. "Malefius?" Raven didn't know whether she was relieved to hear the person speak, or shocked because he appeared to know the wizard in their company. "Who's there?" Raven called out before anyone else had the chance to answer. Despite the pain in her body she knew she was ready to fight if she would have to.
Marcus forced himself to calm down. He forced himself not to punch himself in the face for failing to even mustering up a simple flight spell that would've protected himself and the other man on the bridge. He should certainly have been able to gather enough wind to keep both of them flying far enough to reach the edge on their own, that much certainly shouldn't have been too hard for him. But it had been, and every other person down here could've fallen off the cliff trying to pull the two of them up when he Failed. He whispered, "Avius," and just like that, he felt himself lift off of the ground. Only it didn't matter this time; his "victory" at this token test offered him no consolation for the fact that when a man's life had truly been at stake, Marcus had Failed him. He didn't even know this man's name, but had almost killed him. It was not enough for him to Fail at keeping Melea safe, now he had to Fail at flying this other man over the bridge, just as he had Failed at staying awake in a battle against monsters, or had Failed at helping anybody in the castle, or had Failed at... At this point, he decided that he might as well Fail at not punching himself. He aimed for his eye, so that he would not get even more people killed by attracting more monsters to the smell of a bleeding nose. "Malefius?" Marcus sat up when he heard that. He didn't recognize the voice, but if this man knew the older mage that had saved everyone, then Marcus trusted Malefius to know whether to trust this man.
The cavern shivered in silence, those haunting shrieks from blood thirsty trolls now a little more than a whisper and collectively the group sighed with relief. Though glad to be rid of this place, Malefius could not deny the beauty of Nv’Iydor and its ethereal glow, transforming Kniv into a ghostly lighthouse while the cave sapphires twinkled like ocean stars. To think that this city, crafted with such detail and care, would fall away without a word never to be remembered. That did not sit well with the old man. Perhaps Highguard would be left to the same fate. “Malefius?” A voice called out from the darkness. It caught the wizard by surprise and he shifted awkwardly to face the cavern exit, beaming his staff light at the silhouetted man. Isen stood there in front of them all, his mud covered cloak flittering in the cavern wind and the darkened hood and mask unable to hide his scar torn eye. Malefius gasped, unable to believe his luck; the person he had been desperate to search for had somehow come to him! He shuffled over to embrace the man, his heart singing with warmth. “Isen… I feared you were dead.” He stammered. “How in Hanavar did you find us?”
Tyson staggered forward towards raven holding his chest, he struggled to hold his bow in his hand and load an arrow as he stood next to her, the voice echoed throughout the cavern in Tyson's opinion " I'sen… I feared you were dead, how in Hanavar did you find us?" Tyson wheezed as he looked at Raven with confusion, he had blacked out for a few seconds earlier and had nearly forgotten what has happened in the last 24 hours. "Who...Is Malefius?" he asked Raven as he felt air escape his lips with great difficulty, his bow quivered in his hands as he struggled to hold it aloft, but lowered it when he could no longer hold his pride and joy, cringing from pain of movment.
