~ Dire Struggle for Dillend: [Archive] [Home] [Previous Turn] [Next Turn] ~

Crayne looks towards the direction of the voice, "Urhmmmm!" he hesitates for a moment and then looks around the tent for an idea. "What if we drop something on the floor here and make it look as though it fell off the table or the cabinet? Then hopefully they'll come and investigate the sound and meanwhile we can go through the back entrance to this tent and head for Emma's tent. Even if only one or two comes to investigate I'm sure it will be enough for us to get by the guards and enter into Emma's tent. What do you think?"

Hannibal nods eagerly before remembering that the mage still can't see him. "Damn magic!" he mutters under his breath. "Good, lets do that now. Dire, you and Crayne go around the back and be ready to move into the tent once I get the guards attention. This way, if something bad happens, it's just me trying to evade." Pausing for a moment, he decides this was as good a time as any to ask another question..."By the way, how long does your spell last?"

Dire answers, his voice taking an authoritative tone. "The spell could last up to an entire day, I believe. So we still have some time, yet, but we ought not waste it."

"Right!" Hannibal spits as he removes a flint and tinder with oil from his robe, "It is now time to react! Over in that tent Emma is in trouble, time to get out of here!" With that, Hannibal finds a dry spot in the tent, douses it with oil, and prepares to light it. He grabs some of the papers from the table and tosses them into his little campfire as well.

Turning back to the mages, he cautions, "It won't be safe here in a moment or two, you two get out of here and flank Robert's tent. When the fire hits, there will be a good deal of commotion. Get Emma and Storm out of here and we will meet back at the horses."

Her mind whirling with a dozen thoughts and various emotions, Emma finds it difficult to respond immediately to Robert's kiss. The wine probably had a lot to do with it, she thought inwardly, but a small part of her also admitted that it felt good to let it happen. She allows the light touch to continue, but when Robert begins to press harder, expanding the kiss into something more passionate, the warrior spirit finally arises within her.

She couldn't let things get too out of hand like this...and she couldn't allow the wine and Robert's charm to win her over without a fight. But, at the same time, she didn't want to insult the nobleman...she should protect his pride and hopefully help him to see the error of his ways.

For a brief moment, she fights back his passion with that of her own, attempting to surprise him with her own aggressiveness, definitely not something he would expect out of a weak-willed lady of the nobility. She presses her lips harder to his and tries to tell herself to forget about how pleasurable it felt. She pushes him back onto the blankets, her lips moving softly against his the whole time. After he allows her to take the lead for that briefest of moments, she pushes herself up and away from him, a rosy blush to her cheeks, and very much out of breath with the shock of her success.

Storm sits there gaping as Emma actually returns Roberts kiss. He can't believe it...was she actually liking this man who was obviously evil? Before he can process any thoughts on what to do regarding the matter, Emma has already broken the kiss and sat up. This action springs Storm back to attention, and he takes a step back from his position next to the bed. Maybe this was a good time to snatch the purse of silver? No, he'd wait until he had a sure shot...he is still a little nervous about being invisible, he had to be sure he could take the pouch without detection.

Emma raises a hand to her chest and pats it gently as she feigns an attempt to regain her composure. And, there was really nothing feigned about it. She can feel her own heart racing. "M-mi-milord," she stammers, her eyes wide, and still feeling a bit wobbly from the effects of the wine, "I...I...your words...they are most...disturbing to me."

She wisely avoids any move he might make to pull her down on top of him by sliding back onto her heels, kneeling just out of his reach. "This...union...of which you speak, between our nations is not fostered in goodwill. As you say, Rinder and Caerloon once stood with one another to face down the great Orcish invasion of long ago. But there are rumors that your troops mix freely with those brutes today. Caerloon has joined with the Orcs to make war upon my people. And although the gentle men of Caerloon, such as yourself, might not be butchers of the common folk, the Orcs surely are. Your father's offer to mine is nothing short of terrorizing my family and my people."

Emma takes another breath to steady her resolve and also let some of her passion for debate burn away the effects of the wine. "And as for the common folk not being important...," she says, looking a bit angry with those words, "It is our duty...our noble duty...to look to the safety, welfare, and happiness of the people that we rule. Selfish desires cloud your better judgement...and that of your father...if you truly believe that your actions serve a greater good. Put yourself in the place of a commoner...and learn some humility. We are the stewards of their lives, not their jailers!"

She stands as her temper flares, and her hand unconsciously strays toward the hilt of the braodsword still strapped to her slim waist. "And if you think the result of this war will be more land and more wealth...and that everyone will prosper, I say you should look to the commoners that you trampled along your way. They won't benefit from your father's vision! And neither will I!"

She stoops to gather the rest of her things and turns to leave the tent, leaving Robert stunned by her words and surprised by her passion. "I can only hope that you will ponder my words and open your eyes, Robert Wade the Fourth!" she calls over her shoulder, "You are being driven by another man's madness...and until you realize that, I'll not see you in Seden...or anywhere else!"

As Emma gets up to leave, Storm goes to a position in the doorway, ready to escort them as before. Robert, however, hasn't shown any signs of following her yet, and Storm is suddenly confused. The money or Emma? He looks back and forth between the bag and Emma as she finishes her speech, and decides he'll wait around for a few seconds, expecting Robert to quickly follow after Emma. But Robert doesn't move. He just sits there, stunned. So without a clear choice, Storm stands there confusedly, not know what to do.

Emma tilts her chin in the classic insulted-noblewoman pose and flung aside the flaps to the tent. "I'll find myself another place to sleep tonight," she finishes saying as she steps outside. Once the flap drops closed behind her, she takes a deep breath, letting the cool air clear her mind further.

"Crayne...Dire...Storm...Hannibal?" she thinks to herself as she looks out over the encampment, "Have they been successful?" She could only hope so. She begins to walk quickly away from Robert the Younger's tent, weaving through the gathered soldiers, searching for a way to slip back to Edryd, Cy, and Canter. Hopefully, the others could meet her there.

But, first, she had to retrieve her horse. Emma stops in the middle of the encampment, looking around for where the animals might be kept. She had to steady her nerves, still feeling the afterglow of her passionate encounter with Robert...both her heated words and that heated kiss! She closes her eyes and tries to remember what it had felt like...her heart racing, her blood pounding in her ears...almost the same feeling when she raced into battle, but a lot different, too, she thinks.

Catching a glimpse of a makeshift corral in the distance, she begins to make her way in that direction. She firmly keeps one hand on the hilt of her broadsword, not liking the looks of some of the soldiers that were milling about the campfires...or the looks that they gave her as she passed them by. It reminded her of the two men that had originally stopped her on her way into the encampment. She hoped they weren't still around or that she met up with any Red Dragon mages, or that would only slow her down. Hopefully, she could find her horse and slip away unnoticed before anyone was the wiser...

Just in case some of her invisible friends were quietly tagging along behind her, Emma whispers aloud, "It's time to go. I hope you fellows found what you were looking for...but we shouldn't stay much longer. They'll find us out, eventually. Guys? Anybody there?" But her words are met only with silence.

Dire and Crayne arrive at the outside of Robert the Younger's tent, unaware that only Storm remains inside. Though they can't see each other, Dire tapes Crayne lightly on the shoulder to make sure the younger mage knows he's there. They both take a hard look at the three sturdy looking soldiers guarding the tent, their swords by their sides and their shields held at their waists.

Suddenly, there is a big commotion as someone shouts, "FIRE!! The tent is on fire!!" All eyes then turn on the command tent. Hannibal was good at what he did: smoke can be seen rising from the tent, and the yellow of flames can be seen inside, eating away at one of the tent's walls. In no time the flames will engulf the entire tent.

"Wha? No! You, get some water!" One of the guard's calls to another. Two rush off through the encampment on the urgent errand, leaving but one guard in front of Robert IV's tent.

Then the flaps of the Baron General's tent are flung open. Out steps the tall Baron General, his eyes bloodshot with wine and sleep. "What in the name of the gods is going on here! You men, move it! Get some water on that flame!" He screams at any and all soldiers around him. His voice carries through the night, sending an alarm throughout the tent. Then suddenly another tent erupts in flames, sending two half-clothed soldiers running for cover, clinging to their trousers. "The gods be CURSED!!" the Baron General screams in frustration. "Where is my mage?! Bring me my mage!!!"

The commotion quickly gets Emma's attention, about forty yards away, near the corral. She looks up and stops marching, turning around to see men running in all directions. A smile quickly dresses her face. "Dire and Crayne, always clever with their tricks!" she thinks, unaware that it was really Hannibal's doing. She then turns back toward the corral, but her attention is called away when out of the corner of her eye she sees two familiar figures--the men who teased her upon her arrival in the camp.

Then men are moving as fast as their plump bodies allow them, carrying heavy buckets of water, splashing all about. Emma quickly moves up to them, drawing her sword and pointing at their chests. "Going somewhere, gentlemen?" She asks with a sly smile.

The first gives a quizzical look at the second. Then, dropping his bucket, he slowly winds up his arm, preparing to slap her with the back of his hand. The effects of the wine wearing off, Emma easily steps aside, evading blow. Deciding that bloodshed isn't necessary to teach this lesson, she tightens her grip on the hilt of her sword and sends it flying through the air. She punches the man square in the nose, and he recoils with the impact, tasting his own blood.

"You should be more respectful of ladies," Emma instructs the other man, who stands there dumbfoundedly, watching his pal stumble in shock. "Now get out there and put out that fire!" She takes the blade of her sword and slaps the second man square on the buttocks with a loud whack! Then, with a smile, she turns back toward the corral. Her eyes widen when they meet with Robert's.

Standing there near the corral he must have seen the whole thing. His face is a mix of emotions. Anger at having been rejected, frustration with Emma's parting words, and utter shock at the actions he's just witnessed. "Let's finish the job," Emma tells herself as she recomposes herself and marches proudly toward Robert.

"Surprised, Robert?" She asks. He fails to answer. "Don't be, this lady can take care of herself." She comes up close to him and quickly kisses him again, fiercely pressing her lips to his and then pulling away. 'That ought to keep him off-balance,' she thinks to herself, although inwardly, she realized she'd been wanting to do that again for herself, and not him.

With that she walks right past him, sure she is leaving him with quite an impression. She reaches her horse and lifts a saddle from the nearby fence, preparing her steed for departure.

In the meantime, Storm takes advantage of Robert's departure from his tent and quickly grabs his sack of silver coins, stuffing it into his shirt. A few coins fall out, landing with a metallic ring on the wooden floorboards. Storm freezes, afraid the sound will bring the guards, but hearing the noise and commotion outside, he continues stuffing the sack into his shirt. Knowing that time is short, he doesn't bother picking up the four pieces on the floor and simply heads out of the tent, a wide smile on his invisible face.

Crayne sees the tent flaps part and rushes forward, intending to get into Robert the Younger's tent. He is suddenly struck, however, as if he'd hit a stone wall, and falls backwards. What had he hit? He hears a familiar groan and spit, and with a smile on his face realizes that he was hurriedly trying to get in while Storm was trying to get out--both invisible!

"Arr..." Storm growls, rubbing his rear end.

"Storm! Come on, let's go!" Crayne whispers to his dwarven friend.

But Crayne's fall has caused the one remaining guard to turn around, looking at the strange moving footprints in the wet mud at the entrance to the tent. "What the...?" he says slowly, drawing his sword and staring at the flaps which appear to hold themselves open.

Then, as if the situation couldn't get any more crowded, the sound of trumpets fills the air. A voice rings out, "The Royal Lady Hannah of the House of Seden!" And a tall, seriously expressioned woman rides forward into the chaotic clearing on horseback. She looks down from her steed at the confusion below and rolls her eyes.

Emma suddenly stops setting the saddle, freezing where she stands. Did she hear correctly? Has the real lady Hannah just been announced? What will she do? She looks to Robert. As if it were possible for his eyes to get any wider, they do. His expression changes from confusion to rage. He raises his arm and points directly at Emma, his mouth opening as if to announce and reveal her for the phony liar she's been. But he is unable to speak. Emma is frozen, knowing that if he says but a word, she could never see Rinder's Six, Rinder, or the inside of a Temple of Anhur ever again.

But in that moment, Robert says nothing. He slowly raises his jaw and lowers his pointing hand. He runs his fingers through his hair, thoroughly confused. He looks for a moment as if he is about to cry, he looks so pained. Then, regaining himself, he turns slowly around and heads back toward the center of the camp to meet the Lady Hannah of Seden.

"Come on, Emma! Let's go!" Hannibal's voice suddenly rings out next to Emma. She is startled, her friend's voice like a bucket of cold water waking her from a daydream.

"Hannibal? Is that you? Did you find anything?" She calls out, unsure where he is.

"Yeah, we got something. But we have to go! This place is going crazy!" He puts a and on her back, pushing her closer to the horse.

She finishes strapping on the saddle and hoists herself up. She then stretches out her hand downward into the empty air. As if from nowhere, she can feel Hannibal's hand grasp hers, and she swings him up and onto the mount behind her. "But what about the others?"

"I'm sure they can find the way back! We said we'd meet back where we left Canter and Cy and Edryd! Now let's go!" He responds, nearly shouting in her ear.

"Okay!" She replies, kicking her steed into action.

Meanwhile, the guard looks up from staring at the moving mud, his attention swayed by the arrival of the Lady Hannah. He looks confusedly over to the Baron General, who is walking toward another man, this one robed. The Baron and the robed man exchange some words, but in the confusion, Dire, Crayne, and Storm can't hear them. Then the robed man nods and narrows his eyes, peering around the clearing.

"Come, let's go. We must leave now or we may not have another chance!" Dire warns, physically shoving Storm in the direction of their exit. The three then nagivate through the chaotic crowd toward the outskirts of the tent, trying to leave as quickly as possible without being discovered.

MEANWHILE....

The battle outside the camp continues. And things are looking desperate. Edryd, Cy, and Canter are each facing two foes, each of which seems quite skilled with a blade.

Edryd attacks one of the enemies opposite him, but his sword is stopped in mid air by his foe's, who shoves the Paladin's blade away. Cy lashes out at his opponent, scoring a hit and striking the man. Canter, too, attacks with his Bastard sword, but finds his move countered.

The six enemy soldiers then take the offensive. One attacks Edryd, but the Paladin manages to block the attack. He sees the leader's sword coming after him, and tries to move aside, but the sharp edge does manage to catch him (1 hp damage). Cy is quick--he manages to fend off attacks by both his foes, as does Canter.

Edryd then moves on the counteroffensive with his trusty blade. But the odds are against him, and he finds one enemy just out of reach and the other one blocks his attacks. Cy tries to out-maneuver his opponents but finds them good on the defense, much to the warrior's frustration. Canter skillfully strikes at one of his oppoenents, opening up a fresh wound, but is thwarted in his attempt on the other.

Edryd then takes the defensive as his two adversaries turn on him. He backpedals, moving around a tree and using it for momentary cover. In so doing, he stays out of harms way, for the moment. Cy, on the other hand, feels the searing pain as a blade slices into his skin, the impact creating a sharp crease in his armor. (6 hp damage) He stays focused, however, and manages block the other attacker's move.

Edryd pops out from behind the tree and jabs at the leader, sticking the point of his sword into the man's stomach; a hit ("Ha!" he quips). Cy strikes one of his opponents as well, smiling quickly at the hit, but maintaining his concentration. Canter fails to hit either of his opponents as he does his best to keep moving.

Edryd sees splinters as his two opponents attempt to strike him. But craftily he keeps out of their reach, and their blades chop into the tree. One of the soldiers opposite Cy swings his sword high in the air, which Cy sees and blocks, but the other catches the warrior in the back, opening up a small wound. (3 hp damage) The two soldiers facing Canter close in. Canter's eyes dart between the two, trying to figure out which one to block first. He quickly moves his sword, but it is too late--the other has struck. With a scream Canter falls to his knees, a warm river of his own blood rushing down his right side. The soldier yanks his blade from Canter's torso and smiles at his partner. Canter falls to the earth, face down in the grass.

Edryd and Cy hear their friend's scream. Both are warriors; both know the sound a man makes when his dying breath is escaping his lungs. With determination they try to get to Canter, battling their way against their foes. But they are surrounded, and there is no quick route to their fallen comrade. Edryd is furious, his long back hair whipping around as he swings his mighty sword with newfound precision. He strikes one, then the other of his opponents. Both are hurt, but neither fall. Cy, too, strikes his foes. He jabs the first and hits the other hard, ripping links clear off the man's suit of chain mail.

The two men opposite Edryd, seeing the newfound determination in his face, resist the Paladin's advance. Both strike Edryd, in quick succession, entering shallow slices into his arms (1 hp and 2 hp damage [total of 3]). Cy blocks the attack of one of his foes, but suffers at the successful hit of the other. He can feel his own body weakening, and spits out a mouthful of blood before him. (5 hp damage) Just then, the two soldiers who have slain Canter rejoin the fray. One moves toward Edryd. Overwhelmed by the three attackers, Edryd is hit (2 hp damage). Cy sees the soldier coming for him, and manages to weakly block his attack.

Cy's eyes meet with Edryd's for just a split second. A instant understanding is shared between the two men. One of them is dead, too far away to be tended to. They are each facing three strong soldiers. If they were fighting one foe each, the situation would be different, but this is just too much. Six on two is more than they can handle and they both know that. Severely weakened, the glance between then seems to last a lifetime. Indeed, both knows it could be the last time they look into a fellow warrior's eyes. But they know they will both fight on, for theirs is the true, just battle.

It is during this moment that they hear it...the familiar shuffle of a lone horse. The sound distracts the enemy soldiers too. It too dark to see exactly where it is coming from, but it seems to be from the direction of the camp.

Emma knows she can't be far from them. She could swear she saw a flash of light, like from a lantern that was kicked aside, blown out. And the clashing of metal, like swordplay. "Can you see them?" She says to Hannibal, still invisible, behind her.

"No, but...wait...I think I see movement!" Hannibal announces, pointing.

"Where?" Emma asks, since she can't see his directions.

"Here, let me." With that, Hannibal grabs the reins from Emma's hand, stretching his arms around her waist as if in an embrace.

"Don't get any ideas," Emma says playfully.

"Of course not. Besides, I would think you've had enough of that for one--" He suddenly yanks on the reins, pulling the horse to an abrupt stop. "I think we're close..."

"Cy? Canter? Edryd?" Emma calls out.

Then an unfamiliar voice answers. It is the leader of the enemy patrol party. "Get her!!"

1. Okay, whew! That was a lot for one turn. At the end of 61.0, here is the situation: Dire, Crayne, and Storm are making their way out of the camp, but are not yet at the battle site. Canter is lying face down in the grass, dying (see HP status, below). Edryd and Cy are both desperate, facing off against three enemy soldiers, each. Emma and the invisible Hannibal are about ten yards away from the battle zone. Far enough that they can't clearly see what's going on, but close enough that they can make out figures--and can tell that there's definitely more people there than just Edryd, Cy, and Canter.

2. HP Status: Canter: 0/22*, Edryd: 4/21, Cy: 1/32, Hannibal: 14/14, Emma: 24/24.

* the "Hovering on death's door" rule is in effect for Canter, and will be for anyone else who should fall, i.e. the character can be saved if they do not fall below -10 hp. They will continue to lose 1 hp/round until their wounds are tended to, at which point they stop losing hit points.

3. All six enemy soldiers still stand. Five have been hit, so far, and two appear severely injured.

4. Cy and Edryd, I don't want you to think I'm being too hard on you. But my dice have not been too kind lately, it seems! Just to put things in perspective, out of a total 17 individual attacks on Edryd since the battle began, only 6 have been hits; and out of 17 attacks on Cy, 7 have been hits. The difference is that the damage for each his has tended to be higher...I'm not singling you guys out! (Hey, at least you're both still alive...so far!) And don't underestimate the fact that you were outnumbered 2 to 1, and without any magical backup. But now that Emma has arrived, hopefully that will change!

5. Edryd, Cy, Hannibal, and Emma, please send me your moves for the next THREE rounds. Storm and Crayne, please send me your moves for ONE round of combat (since your characters will join the battle late in the next post). Once the party is all back together, I will begin posting turns with respect for actual rounds passed (i.e., the next post will be 60.3, unless the battle is over by then).

6. Storm, when later it is counted, the sack contained 58 sp.

7. Emma, I hope your reprisal of the two teasing soldiers was adequate. And how 'bout that final moment between you and Robert? Dramatic, huh? Gosh, I should quit school and just be a trashy romance-novelist! :)

(61.0) "They must have been captured!" Emma says, worry mounting in her voice. She immediately draws her broadsword and moves to take the reins from Hannibal again. "They don't know you're with me," she says, "Slip around and see if you can free Edryd and the others. While I'm mounted, I should have the advantage on these fellows."

She waits just a moment for Hannibal to dismount and takes that opportunity to begin casting a spell, nudging the horse with her knees to keep it moving so she wouldn't make an easy target. "Anhur I beseech you hold these men fast...bind them to Geb's domain and rob them of their will to fight."

Emma can feel the familiar tingle run through her arms as she completes the prayer. Her outstretched arms point in the general direction of the soldiers--it's too dark to focus on a particular enemy. As the spell finishes she takes a deep breath and quickly draws her sword. She continues to guide the horse and she nears the battleground she can begin to clearly make out some figures. She recognizes Cy's frame, and thinks she can see Edryd farther away. She can see from their postures that they are tired and fighting hard. In the darkness she doesn't yet see Canter.

Already anticipating Emma's plan, Hannibal leaps from the back of the mount and sprints around the already charging men. Not wanting to leave Emma alone, he could see that the others had already had the worse of it. Canter, face down in the grass would soon be joined by Edyrd and Cy if nothing was done.

His blood boiling already from the actions prior, Hannibal sprints ahead, sword high above his head. He felt alive again finally after so many years of depression, and would not let these scum take that from him. Wanting to scream a battle cry, Hannibal only grits his teeth as he did not want to spoil the surprise in store.

Reaching the first man, Hannibal jumps high in the air and tries to plunge his blade deep into the man's back. His long sword is a bit too long for the purpose, he realizes midway through his aerial routine, his smaller dagger would have been more appropriate. But he manages to position the sword just right. That, combined with his clever use of invisibility, serves to provide a crucial blow to one of the soldier's attacking Cy. The blade slices directly into the soldier's back, and with the impact of Hannibal's body the soldier tumbles over. In the end, Hannibal can feel the end of his blade stuck in the cold, hard dirt below--the soldier is dead.

Cy, who can now see Hannibal (the invisibility having worn off), gives the thief a quick nod. The warrior is breathing heavily. His blade is raised in a defensive posture, and he looks at the two other enemy soldiers facing him. Strangely, though, neither of the men moves, they appear to be stuck in the ground where they stand. A smile slowly draws itself on Cy's face as he realizes he is looking at Emma's handiwork.

Cy, badly wounded, then allows his more mercenary tendencies to take over. With the appearance of Emma on the scene, he sees no choice but retreat, and fast. As wounded as he is, he realizes that any hit could kill him... and dying here isn't in his plan.

Cy retreats in the direction of Emma's advance, using his full defensive skill and speed to his advantage. If he can disengage from the battle, (hopefully more help is on the way), he will retreat to either obscurity or to a proper firing position for his bow.

He calls out into the darkness: "I'm sorry followers of Anhur, but I must leave this battle or leave this world." The stubborn mercenary coughs up a large gout of blood at this and tries to leave the battle alive. Emma can make out his figure backstepping toward her advance. Recognizing the situation for what it is, she nudges her mount in the warrior's direction, hoping to provide him some cover and take stock of the situation.

Edryd can hear the commotion on the other side of the melee, but is unable to see through the dark and through the three soldiers attacking him. He is just too far away for Emma's spell to help, and his men were too far from Hannibal's launch pad to fall prey to his move. Gritting his teeth, Edryd decides to move in the direction of the commotion. "I don't know if it more of us or more of them, but by Anhur I will not stand here and be slaughtered!" he tells himself under his breath.

(61.1) The leader, attacking Edryd, can see the Paladin's movement in retreat. "Don't let him get away!" he yells at his companion by his side. He points his sword directly at Edryd's face, and tells the Paladin, "Surrender now and we won't kill you."

The other soldier begins to move to Edryd's side, halfastly poking and prodding Edryd with his sword. Edryd, infuriated but weak, doesn't answer the leader, but slaps the second soldier's blade away with his own. His eyes are bloodshot and stinging, his limbs feel like lead. He says nothing in response, letting blood drip down his face and off his chin. He continues backstepping toward the commotion, slowly so as not to give these men cause to strike. He offers a silent prayer to Anhur.

Meanwhile, the third soldier who had been attacking Edryd after felling Canter begins to move in the direction of the commotion, peering through the dark to see if the mounted figure is friend or foe.

Riding hard, Emma begins to slash about with her broadsword. The adrenaline rush of battle burned away the last lingering effects of the Caerloon wine she had had in Robert's tent. She allowed her anger, fear, and frustration to creep into her attacks, using all of those emotions to fuel her fury... She sees a soldier coming toward her and pushes the steed in his direction. With a strong swoop, she connects her blade to the man's chest. Just before impact she could his eyes widen with surprise. Then the "crunch!" as her sword broke through bone. The man is sent flying backwards and lands in the grass, dead.

Emma follows the man's flight path with her eyes. But she notices something strange: his body did not make the right noise when it hit the ground. Edging her horse closer she can see why--it landed atop another body. Her heart sinks and her eyes grow wide when she begins to recognize the body beneath: Canter!

Cy, at the same time, moves away from the actions, disengaging from the battle. His path crosses Emma's and he gives her a quick nod. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that he is not being followed. Knowing the situation, like any such ambush, to be quite volatile, he steps back cautiously, trying to put enough distance between him and the action to safely sheath his sword and prepare his bow.

Hannibal rises from his kill and yanks his long sword from the dead soldier's back, spraying blood across the grass like water. He then gives a quick look around, trying to see where his help would be most needed. His eyes fall on Edryd's form, emerging from the darkness. "Hang on, Edyrd!" he shouts, raising his sword in front of him and moving in the Paladin's direction.

Edryd continues to retreat, slowly. His eyes dart between the two enemies opposite...there is a tense silence until Hannibal's voice rings through the night. Edryd can then see the leader's eyes narrow with determination.

Storm makes his way through the enemy camp as quickly as he can, unsure of whether or not one or both of the two mages stay with him. It doesn't matter to him, though, he's now concerned with simply getting out of the enemy territory and back to the campsite as quickly and easily as he can. As he creeps invisible through the camp, he is reminded of his old unknowing mercenary days, being sent on missions much like this one (although usually killing anyone they came across). Storm thinks to himself, "aye, bein' invisible like this woulda helped us lots!" But now he concentrates on using his skills for the better, and he gets himself out of the camp as soon as he can.

(61.2) "Rrrrrraaahhh!" The leader lunges at Edryd, determined to exact justice--whatever justice that may be--before the new enemy (Hannibal) arrives. His blade catches Edryd in the gut, just below the ribs. It cuts right through his armor. Edryd can feel the searing pain as the cold steel meets his warm flesh, and the sinking feeling as the blood begins to drain from his head. Things begin to go fuzzy, then darker, as the Paladin's eyes flutter shut and he falls to the ground in a heap of blood, flesh, and metal.

The other enemy soldier opposite Edryd, seeing the Paladin's body on the ground, steps up to meet Hannibal's charge. He swings his sword at the thief, but Hannibal is ready and blocks the attack with a loud clang.

Once he cleared the enemy camp, Storm headed back toward the camp site in a moderate trot, as he was still unsure of what was going on back there. As soon as he gets close enough to know something's amiss, however, he suddenly breaks into a full sprint toward the site, while withdrawing his long swords. He barges right into the camp site and yells "I be back lads!" as he mercilessly begins ravaging the closest enemy to him.

The closest one is the soldier facing Hannibal. Storm's enthusiasm and invisibility serve him well. He strikes the soldier hard, surprising both the soldier and Hannibal, who sees the man flinch with the impact from what appeared like a gentle breeze! Storm's invisibility soon wears off--Hannibal could hear the dwarf's heavy breathing, now, anyway.

Hannibal then takes advantage of the enemy's suprise and launches an attack of his own. He jabs with his sword, but finds his attack thwarted--though seriously hurt, the enemy soldier is not out of the count.

Cy, a good distance away from the melee but close enough to keep an eye on the sitation, drops to one knee. "Good work, priestess," he murmurs to himself under his breath as he swings his bow around and cocks an arrow. He trains the first on one of the held soldiers. The arrow flies straight and true, catching the soldier in the neck. Blood spurts out of the soldier's neck for a short moment, but then the flow slows and the soldier's eyes begin to glass over.

Another arrow then leaves Cy's bow and strikes the other held enemy. It hits him in the upper arm. Oddly, the man doesn't even flinch from the hit, but Cy supposes that's due to the effects of the spell.

Emma dismounts as quickly as she can--she nearly leaps right off the horse. She kneels at Canter's side, concern welling up in her stomach and a lump in her throat. "Canter?" she prods his cold body. She places a hand on his forehead--cold. She moves it to his chest--not moving. Tears filling her eyes, she wonders, "how long has he been like this?! Can he still be saved?!" But by Anhur she was going to try.

She places her hands on his chests, trying to reach some of his wounds, and closes her eyes in prayer. "Anhur, offer me the power of your just healing..." she begins. The words roll off her tongue so quickly they are almost unintelligable to anyone but her and her god. But she knows the spell is working when her hands grow warm and begin to cast a warm glow on Canter's chest. She can then feel his chest rise as he takes in a loud, painful sounding breath.

Canter's eyes open slowly. He is disoriented. Emma moves her hand behind his head and strokes some wet, bloody hair out of his face. He says nothing, but smiles up at her face.

"Edryd be down!" Storm's voice carries over the campsite. Emma quickly turns her head to look in the direction of the dwarf's voice. Just then she hears a snap, as if someone had snapped their fingers. Suddenly Crayne's figure appears before her. The mage has obviously been running; persperation is running down his face and he is flushed.

"You tend..." he says, still catching his breath, "to Edryd. You can help him more than I. I'll look after Canter, here."

Then there is a flash of blue light a few yards away, in the direction of the enemy camp. Out from this blue flash marches the form of Dire Luthor. His coak blows menacingly in the breeze and the light behind him casts an awesome hue upon his figure, silhouetting him. He marches determinedly, mumbling quitely under his breath. He heads straight for the held soldier (the one hit in the arm by Cy's arrow). As he approaches the man he opens his hands in front of him. In the palms of his hands are small balls of flame, and his eyes reflect the fire-image lie mirrors.

This menacing image has a serious effect on the held soldier who, though immobilized, is fully aware of the awesome apparition approaching him. One can see him struggle to escape, but Emma's magic holds him fast. He tries to scream, but his mouth will not move and vocal chords will not respond. His eyes fail to widen, try as they might. His face changes colors, from a heated red through multiple shades to a ghostly white.

(61.3) The enemy leader, looking up from Edryd's dead body fixes his gaze on Storm. "Grr..." he growls, "always hated stinkin' dwarves..." he says just loud enough to enrage Storm's sense of hearing. He launches himself at Storm, striking the dwarf hard with his blade. (6 hp damage)

The enemy soldier opposite Hannibal attacks the thief with his sword. Hannibal, while a clever thief, is no longer a professional soldier. His advantages spent, he does his best to defend himself. But the enemy manages to hit him, and Hannibal stifles a scream as he feels the blade cut into his skin. (5 hp damage)

1. HP Status: Canter: 3/22, Storm: 26/32, Edryd: -2, Crayne: 9/9, Cy: 1/32, Hannibal: 9/14, Emma: 24/24, Dire: 33/33. Crayne's "Armor" spell: 9.

2. The party: CANTER is revived on the grass, being comforted and guarded by CRAYNE. EMMA is nearby, but is looking in the direction of the action. EDRYD is dead on the grass near the two (un-held) enemy soldiers. STORM is facing off against the enemy leader, near Edryd's body. And HANNIBAL is facing off against another enemy soldier nearby. CY is kneeling in the grass, bow in hand. DIRE is standing in front of the held enemy soldier, wreaking havoc with the man's psyche.

3. The enemy: Three enemy soldier's remain alive. The leader is fighting Storm, another is fighting Hannibal nearby. The third is currently held (he will be able to move again in round 6.7). Three enemy soldiers have been killed; one of the dead soldiers is being held upright by Emma's spell!

(61.3) Emma nods to Crayne and quickly leaves Canter in Crayne's care. She rises to her feet, lifts her broadsword once more, and hurries across the battlefield in the direction that she last remembers seeing Edryd. Mentally, she reviews the possibilities for helping the Sword-Bearer, whenever she managed to actually reach him. Her prayers to Anhur the previous day had only included one minor ritual of healing. The best she could do would be to offer the simple Orison that would ease his pain...but would that be enough? As she runs through the darkness, she cautiously avoids any remaining enemies, not wanting to get caught up in the tide of battle again. That would probably spell Edryd's doom.

Crayne looks down at the weary and wounded Canter. "Are you okay, my friend?" he asks.

"It hurts, Crayne," Canter whispers hoarsely, wincing with pain. "But I'll be okay. Look after Cy, huh?" he looks up to his friend above him, giving Crayne a wink, knowing it must be at least slightly funny to the mage for him to protect the warrior.

"Alright!" Crayne says, rising above Canter, who props himself up on a bloody elbow. Cranye then carefully begins to move across the battlefield toward Cy's position on the other side. It was going to be tricky, though: two enemies still remained on the attack and he had to get past them on the way.

Storm reels from the heavy blow of the enemy soldier. He back pedals to catch his balance, which he does easily. He pays no attention to the gash in his side, seemingly unfazed by the blood dripping down his side. He stares into the man's eyes, seeing the hatred he truly feels as he mentions his hatred toward dwarves. Keeping the stare into his eyes at all times, Storm wipes his mouth on his right sleve while still holding his two swords upright in as menacing a manner as he can. "Ye hate dwarves, do ya?" He says lightly, "Good." He sniffs hard and spits to the side. "Then it'll be more fun fer me ta run ye through!" He builds the comment to a crescendo so that by the time he yells 'through' he's leaping at the man, fueled by his desire to avenge the racism expressed toward him, both swords coming to bear on the target. Storm is quite mad, and he won't stop until this man before him is dead by his blade.

Storm's blades find their target, slashing at the enemy leader and tearing into his skin. The cuts are not too deep, but they're not mere surface wounds, either. The leader spits a mouthful of blood aside, stumbling backwards with the impact. He growls at Storm, fire in his eyes and hate in his heart.

Hannibal squares off against the enemy soldier who had just struck him. The soldier days of his past are beginning to come back to him, and he does his best to strike a solid blow. A gust of wind picks up just as he swings his sword around, as if sent by the gods themselves. The sword's path is straight and true, and it finds the soldier's neck. The sharp edge of the blade cuts deep into the man's neck, killing him outright. Blood spurts out, covering Hannibal's chest and dripping down to the cold earth below. The soldier's head drifts back as if about to fall off. It doesn't, the body follows, falling backwards to the ground; dead.

With all the action and movement, Cy tries his best to find a clear shot at an enemy target without hitting one of his own party. With one eye closed and the other looking down the shaft of his arrow, he sees Hannibal's mortal blow and a smile comes to his face. He then trains the arrow on Storm's target, but there is too much movement, Storm is a bit like an acrobat in his attacks and too unpredictable to risk the missile. Cy then switches targets to the held soldier, but finds the overbearing figure of Dire Luthor directly in the way. He can see the horror on the soldier's face and the firelight in Dire's hands reflecting off of the man's eyes.

"What are you doing, mage?" Cy asks to himself, wondering about Dire's motives. "That man poses no threat anymore, let me dispatch him to his hellish grave!" But he is too far, and his voice too weak, for his words to reach the Red Dragon Mage. Besides, Dire is in his element and there is little anyone nearby could do to stop him from making an utter mess of the soldier's mind and psyche.

(61.4) The leading soldier, now the only one of his men left alive (except for the magically held soldier), sees that the tide of battle has turned. Yet he also sees that his escape is nearly impossible. Grinding his teeth in frustration and pain, he launches himself at Storm, the closest target. His blade is sharp but his mind clouded, and Storm deflects the blow.

Storm then returns the favor, but finds his own attack stymied by the soldier who, though on his last legs, is not gone yet.

In the process of crossing he battlefield, Crayne comes across the duel between Storm and the enemy leader. Seeing the concentration between the two, he decides he might step in and try to aid his dwarven friend. He draws his knife as quickly and as quietly as he can and moves around to the back of the enemy soldier. Then with a forceful, albeit a bit awkward, lunge, he plants the blade in the leader's upper back. The soldiers head reels around to see just who beat him, but he doesn't make it all the way. His eyes roll back in his head and his knees fail. He falls to the ground dead.

Storm looks to Crayne with a serious expression on his face. He then steps forward, pushing the mage back and standing over the body. He raises both blades and then thrusts them downward, right throught the man's chest. He lets out a battle call in victory and then spits a wad of blood on the man's face. "How ye like us now?!" He screams at the man's cold, dead face.

Dire continues staring at the held soldier's eyes, a serious concentration about him. As he senses that the battle has come to a close, he slowly steps back, not moving his glare from the enemy soldier's face.

Hannibal, breathing heavily but happily, sheathes his sword and jogs over to Canter. "You okay?" He asks, rubbing his wound.

"I'll be fine, I think," Canter says, sitting up but obviously in pain. "What of Edryd?" Hannibal doesn't have an answer, he turns his head to cast a glance in the direction of the fallen paladin.

Cy raises himself from his firing position, returning the arrow to his quiver and slinging the bow across his back. Seeing the battle won, he begins to walk back toward the group, joining Emma at Edryd's side. He stands over paladin, who lies on the ground, and the priestess, who kneels at his side.

Reaching Edryd's side, Emma dropps to her knees and sticks her sword point-first into the ground to keep it handy. She quickly tears off a few strips of her cloak to bind his wounds. And, finally, leaning over the fallen warrior, she begins to chant the mantras they first taught her upon entering the temple: "Faith in Anhur relieves the pain..." she murmurs, touching the garish wound in his abdomen. "Trust in Anhur and he will provide..." she continues, rocking back and forth.

Tears begin to trickle down her cheeks again. These simple spells weren't powerful enough to do much good for wounds such as these, she knew. "C'mon Edryd...help me. Hold on to your faith, Sword-Bearer," she urges.

She tries once more, chanting, "Anhur watches over his Chosen and will not take them until their service is done..." She watches Edryd's face closely, unsure if her Orisons are having an effect. "Please, Anhur...heal him. He's not finished yet," she mentally prays.

Soon all eyes are on Emma as she prays for Edryd. She is nearly hysterical, her hands on Edryd's chest and her tears mixing with his blood. The cold wind grows stronger and Storm shudders for a moment as even he is touched by the tension and emotion of the moment, to say nothing of the great life at stake.

Canter has risen and is slowly walking toward the scene. As he approaches, one of his legs gives way. Hannibal is there, and catches him. They stand there, one supporting the other, watching and waiting. Cy arrives, his exhausted and wounded body dragging itself along. He is still bleeding and there are large bruises and welts on his skin, but he doesn't seem to feel the pain. Crayne, too, joins the circle.

Standing around the scene, Rinder's Six is a solemn sight. The cold wind is howling, the night is dark. Each offers a prayer in his own way. Some to gods they firmly believe in, others in the hopes that gods actually exist and will hear.

Only Dire Luthor is not present. He has ceased his mental torture of the one remaining enemy soldier, still held by Emma's spell. His demeanor seems to have returned more to normal, but he does not crowd the scene. He moves over to where the saddle bags lie, their contents strewn about the area. Finding a torch, he lights it and slowly makes his way to the circle. He hands it without a word to Cy, who holds it high. its amber flames flicker gaily over the scene, as if not knowing the seriousness that pervades.

Somewhere, perhaps overhead, an ear is trained on the pleading of one young cleric. After a few moments, it is decided:

Edryd awakes with a loud cough, vomiting and grasping for air. Emma throws her head back, tears of joy streaming down her face, thanking Anhur for his benevolence. A collective sigh of relief is breathed all around and Edryd's eyes open of their own accord.

1. HP Status: Canter: 3/22, Storm: 26/32, Edryd: 2/21, Crayne: 9/9 (9 Armor), Cy: 1/32, Hannibal: 9/17, Emma: 24/24.

2. Hannibal, I apologize I had listed your HP incorrectly in the last post. Your max hp should have been 17, not 14!

3. Emma has used up all her Orisons. So all she has left at the moment is: Battlefate, Command, Dust Devil, and Messenger.

4. WHAT NOW? Comments on the battle? What about the remaining enemy soldier, who is still held by Emma's spell (but not for long)? Will you clear up and move out?

5. Where will you go? Back to Rinder (to Mitchend? Lowfield, where you are expected?)? Canter, Cy, and Edryd will need some serious healing; will you stop off at the Temple of Lentyr in Faren (a Caerloon city, but very close by--check the map on the web page!) for the night for shelter, as the old cleric on the road offered?

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