Tirasfell - A Kingdom In Peril

[Retribution]

The massive mound of barbarian muscle inclined his head and his blue eyes took on a gleam that seemed to glow from an internal fire. One could not say if Gerald had ever seen a Berserker before but he was seeing one now. Koreshian gripped Bane in both hands and took deep and steady breaths as every muscle in his body seemed to bulge and cord more and more.  At last he turned his heated gaze toward the entrance of the cavern that was back lit by magma light as he gripped the great ax Bane in an across his body two handed hold. Koreshian drew a deep breath and bellowed “BBBBBBBRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMM!”

The name of the god of war was still echoing through the caverns when the massive mound of bad intentions darted in amongst the humans and orcs with a speed that was hard to believe for a man of that size.  A human and an orc died before they had probably even realized they were under attack their blood sprayed across cavern walls and some over the edge of the pit to sizzle below. The next orc was just reaching for his sword when Bane took him diagonally from left collar bone to right hip. Another had time to bring his pole ax up only to have the haft shatter and Bane continue on through to remove his face. Another of the beasts was rising when the spike at the head of the haft planted between his eyes. Five were dead in but three heart beats but now the remaining eight had time to react and were descending on the axman.  Real to the death between true warriors after all tended to be swift and brutal and not very majestic.

[selfexiled]

Well whatever surprise they might have had was now spent. The benefit of Koreshian's charge was that five opponents were now dead most before they could stand, but now all the others in the room were up and what was originally thirteen then reduced to eight is now up to fifteen since teh sleeping bodies were now awake.

Allowing the opponents to circle and close on Koreshian a few moments more, Gerald lets them get a little tighter together, Falto! Light erupts from the end of his spear and streaks across the room like an arrow connecting to with the orcs on his side of the circle. Of course the one to take the brunt of it is charred to a crisp and his surrounding companions though not nearly as cooked also fall the count drops by six. Using the momentary chaos created by the magical explosion Gerald rushes in himself not ever content with fire off magic from the back. Impaling the closest one then withdrawing and swinging out he slices open the chest of another. As another orc charges he jerks up the butt of the spear and with a very audible crack plants one under the chin lifting the orc off the ground before it crumpled to the floor. Then on a downward strike Gerald brings his spear to bear on another attacker who has sense enough to block and a short power struggle begins. Gerald lets go of one hand giving the orc the advantage, he takes it and throws the spearhead wide but he left himself open. Gerald let go of the spear to reach for his short sword, in the same motion of the orc pushing his spear away his other hand brought the sword to bear and ran it through its chest.

[Retribution]

It was probably not quite what the King had in mind Koreshian thought amusedly as he drew a lot of attention. But then he felt the foul sting and stench of elfin magic and figured it was working just fine when Gerald joined the fray. The opponents were now very confused at the chaos that had erupted among them and they were not working in a coordinated group.  Gerald and the big barbarian were and the outcome was inevitable as well as brutal. Soon nothing but corpses in the final twitching throes of death remained littered across the cavern.

The big barbarian calmly pulled a rag from his pouch and began wiping the bit of his ax clean.  He had a few cuts but they were minor.  As he tucked the rag back away and hefted his ax he pointed with his chin toward the cavern “unless I am mistaken your Queen is there.  The stench of magic is very strong” from there he once more left the King to take charge and the lead. He was the King after all and it was his woman they were going to retrieve.

[knifeparty]

He comes pacing up the stairs towards Maeryn as if in answer to her bleakest moment of abandonment yet. His pale skin almost glows in the low light of the cavern, but he is no ethereal apparition in her dreams this time. He is real. His forearm is dark up to the elbow with dried blood, which is beginning to flake away - and so is his knife, though it glistens, still wet with something recent. Slung over his shoulder is an Orcish war horn.

"Maeryn."

He stood on her step and extended his red, right hand to take hers. He speaks softly enough that his voice barely echoes in the stoney passages. "Servants of Brom have arrived...they shout his name at the gates. They mean to shout your name to you, though. We have to leave them, if you want the death I promised you."



He raises the Orcish horn to his lips and blows. The ugly sound blasts down the tunnels, taking its trail of echoes with it and then an unsettling silence takes its place. He discards the horn, throwing it down the stairs with a weak clatter.

And then the reply comes. Horn sound after horn sound erupts through the mountain hive as the Orcs awaken to meet the threat at their doorstep. The growls and calls to arms begin to filter up the stairs to Maeryn and he points behind her, to where she has come from. "I know how to leave. Climb!" his collarbone nudges her up the stairs she's just descended and he begins to run up them, while the Orcs swarm in the bowels of the fortress below.

He leads her ever upward, winding passage after winding passage until she notices the air get colder and become a breeze. The tunnel terminates in daylight and a precipice, upon which is a makeshift crows nest lookout. Two lookouts are there, they're awake and snarling as soon as they catch sight of Maeryn and her saviour.

"Kill them, Maeryn. let us out."

[selfexiled]

The echoeing raspy din of a horn rattled throughout the caverns, and then answered by many more from all directions. "Shite!! I thought we left our path clean of the living." said Gerlad with a noticable amount of anger and irritation in his voice. "If they want to blow a horn they should atleast blow a good one."

Gerald reached down to his waist and pulled a seemingly ordinary pouch from his belt, but ordinary it was not. It was an oddity that he had found in his travels that turned out to be very useful indeed, it was a void pouch. Magically stitched into this pouch was an alternation space empty, void, and endless. He could store any number of things in it so long as it fit in the mouth of the pouch itself. From here he pulled his own horn, hand-crafted himself from the horns of the Ograint he slew many decades ago before he wa even gifted his fine spear. "Now to teach them what a real horn sounds like." With a deep breath Gerald brought the horn to his lips and blew through the horn, the sound escaping its cavernous mouth sounded of rolling thunder and the trumpets of heaven, all who hear it find an energy they didn't know they had. Once it was blown in the city and the sick and bed ridden sat up with a new found strength. On the battlefield armies have frozen in place just by its sound. No trace of magic can be found on it, its sound is pure and strong and natural.

Expending his breath Gerald brings down the horn and slips it back into his pouch which he then reties to his belt. Hefting his spear he turns to Koreshian and says, "Let us find our treasure and be done with this place, and may our path be crimson for a millenia after our passing."

[Retribution]

Koreshian made a face at the sound of the horn but he understood the utility. He also looked at the cavern they were headed into. The passage was narrow and supplied with enough bends to make access difficult. He pondered the implications as the blast of Gerald’s horn had given him a moment to plot. He then looked to the King “head for your treasure I can hold them a good while here as they will have to come at me one at a time or maybe two at most.”  The big man leaned Bane against the wall while he unslung his bow but now sadly his quiver only held six arrows. He pulled his hand ax and laid it in easy reach as well because it to could be thrown and the bend in the passage would offer him cover. It was as they say in military terms good ground.

“Try and find her and I will hold them here as long as I can then I will be leaving foot prints up your back” I glanced at the King.  “When you hear me coming time is indeed up” without waiting for a response the big man turned back and knocked an arrow. He then peered around the bend and leaned hard on his bow the wood and sinew creaked as he waited for his target to become clear.  It was good sense after all the Queen was as likely to fry a Wolf Barbarian as look at him after all.

[selfexiled]

Noticing Koreshian's expression to the horn but waiting for him to finish Gerald says, "I know it does not seem the wisest choice but a horn would only be used to summon a large force to a single area so let them think we a greater number than we are. It will make them cautious and slow." Gerald felt a little wrong leaving the barbarian by himself but his words were true. "Very well, but don't feel you must stay indefinitely, I'd rather you fall back down the passage to me than to die alone in this hole." Gerald took a moment to salute Koreshian not that he was sure Koreshian knew or cared about the meaning, "Fight well my battle brother, and may your enemies clog the gates of hell."

turning Gerald made his way down the passage, though it had many turns and corners it seemed to be a straight shot down to its end. As he neared the end of the passage though he began to smell blood and death as it was carried on a frigid breeze. either the mountain had a hole in it or he was coming out one of its sides. Before he found out though he found the bodies of several dead orcs. The warrior in him took a heightened state of alertness. Slowly he made his way to the mouth of the passage as it emptied into a pit with a single ledge with a set of manacles hanging from a 'T' bar. A short investigation told him that the prisoner had been freed somehow and had lain in the now gelled pool of blood for a time before getting up and moving back into the mountain. There, it was a hand print smeared on the wall, it was certainly not a orc hand nor any of thier barbarian partners it was to small and thin. He moved to it and saw it led down a different passage, he would have run on following the markers but he felt the need to grab Koreshian first... They knew we were here and this new passage was red with blood it was unlikely that any threat would come from that way. Taking several paces back down teh path he came from Gerald shouted, "Koreshian!! To me!! She is not here!! There is another path, red and bloody!!" The large man was quick for his size so Gerald waited for him at the intersection knowing that if he could it would not take him long to arrive.

[Retribution]

Koreshian loosed arrows till he was out of arrows. He had not seen Gerald’s salute he was well busy, but then he drew his ax and went to work. His orcan foes as he had expected had to come at him in ones and twos. And soon their own corpses were getting in their way and the sound of fierce battle rang down the corridor to Gerald.  The big man of course heard him but occupied as he was he could not break to catch up without getting cut down from behind. Also the narrow passages made it hard to properly ply an ax so he was using the spike at its head as much as the blade.

At last the piling corpses of his foes gave him some space though.  And the big man snatched up his hand ax and sacrificed it to buy time and space. He sent it spinning to bury in the lead orc and then turned and sprinted in the King’s direction. He knew they did not have much time but he had earned them some time and space.  Koreshian was very fast for his raw mass it was a gift of birth that had made him so dangerous.  And he did not reckon Gerald would need telling that hell was on his heels when the big man sprinted into view bloody ax still in hand and bow sans arrows slung across his back.

[FaeBorne]

It knew her name? She froze as the name passed the lips of the Spirit walking towards her. She stared at him her blinks almost owlish, the dagger she held grasped with white knuckled ferocity. He is here with me, and he is real! Elated that the Death-Seer in her dreams was not a slip of her mind into madness. Or had she truly fallen into mental disrepair? A breath left her mouth in a puff as she chose not to  listen to his words lost in her own reverie. The sound of the horn, and then the response of many sent a dark chill straight into her marrow. He was leading her back to the precipice, back up...up...up. She climbed with him staring at the blood on his blade and then finally she heard his voice, dark and torturous to her ears.

"Kill them, Maeryn. let us out."

That voice burnt into her very soul and those jade green eyes centered on the two Orc guards that blocked her freedom. The dagger she had clutched felt heavy in her palm as she stared with lethal intent at her victims. A scream ripped from a parched throat in a shrill keening howl. This was why her Kingdom had feared her, this was why she had been plucked from the fires of her village as a child. This was her Destiny. Hissed words echoed in her subconscious egging her on in a chant.

"Follow my red, right hand....then kill them all."

She leapt in fury at the first of the two Orc, with a vicious upward strike the dagger ripped in-between the seams of poorly made armor eviscerating the heavy gutted lookout with nary a second thought. As the Orc fell forward she lifted a bare foot to his midsection kicking him aside while yanking free her blade, his blood slickening her foot. She skidded slightly in the warmth and ducked the swing of the second lookouts fist. The whoosh over her dirty red locks made her narrow her gaze on the face of her enemy. Her breathing shallow, and her eyes vacant, the scent of blood filled her nostrils with its tangy bouquet. With another leap into the other Orc she brought the dagger sideways into its throat, hanging her weight on the blade and ripping the Orc's scream straight from its mouth leaving only the bloody hiss of a death rattle. She fell with her enemy this time landing on his chest with a dull thud removing the dagger in a spray of gore that wept across her face like the paint of a warrior true.

This was no Queen, this was the savage adopted spawn of Draxin Vayos, acolyte of Hahrutyne, blood letter, and Mistress of Darkness. She looked over her shoulder at the Death Seer who commanded her to kill and bringing the blade to her lips licked the salty tang of blood from the steel of the blade with not even a shudder of revulsion. She could hear more coming up the red bloody path he led her and she would cut them down as well if they rounded the bend. Her voice was a command as she spoke to her savior jade green eyes narrowed and dangerous. 

"Get me OUT!"     

[knifeparty]

The sound of metal on metal rattles and scrapes as the tower of an Orc rises to the sound of alarm calls. He casts a shadow of four or five men, and scores more adorn his armour as a patchwork of all the dead that have fallen in his past. Elvish plates of armour lashed to the skulls and shields of men cover every inch of his mountainous frame. Entire lineages of elves and men now encrust Jawbraekka The War Tyrant, and their pendants of faith now hang from the horns that savagely wreath his head.

"To the gates, grind them into the mountain!" he snarled at his wardens.

The wardens roared in reply and began to disperse like cockroaches, disappearing into the gutters of the tunnels to gather their respective crews of cut-throats. The sound of bodies trudging through the tunnels pauses only at the blast of Gerald's horn. A small party of raiders don't call to arms with horns...perhaps an entire army is here for the queen. Perhaps it’s only the sound of Jawbraekka's threats from the heart of the mountain that reignites their blood lust.

The orcs pour into the cavern as a tide of teeth, iron and blades, finding their dead brethren strewn across the floor in a trail of death that leads into the up-tunnels, as they like to call them. The leading scout kicks an arrow-riddled corpse onto its back.

"Get the shields...."

Grunts echo up the tunnel as the slabs of steel are passed overhead and taken up by two orcs and brought down with a resounding smash that blocks most of the light going up the tunnel. The shields are overlapped to take up the entire width of the tunnel, their height leaving almost nothing exposed. The rest of the orcs fall into line behind, two by two column of savagery.

“Heave! Flush ‘em out, we’ll scrape ‘em off the walls”

The shields are hefted inches off of the floor and the orcs stampede up the tunnel, a piston of plate iron intent on squeezing the life out of the barbarian and king.

[selfexiled]

With one look at Koreshian Gerald nods, "I see you had a great conversation with our hosts. But it sounds like more are coming, we must move." Gesturing towards the other passage with the bloody smears, "We go this way." Without a second thought or looking back Gerald moves off into the tunnels. The way is well marked with blood and bodies and empty for the moment.
He hears a dull roar from he can only guess beneath him and... to his left. As they move through the passages slowly but steadily upwards he pauses, now there is a scraping sound... metal on stone being drug in a hurry but it also sounds intermitten like whatever is carring it will lift it for moment then drop it again.
It's getting louder now, coming around a corner he sees it. Jumping back hoping he wasn't noticed, "Shite! They've a shield wall the size of the passage they'll push us where ever we go if they've found us." he whispered harshly to Koreshian.

[Retribution]

Koreshian glanced over his shoulder and kept moving “well this is not getting any better it is time to run and hope we encounter your Queen while doing so.” But the massive mound of muscle showed a bit of cleverness all the same because he paused and rapped the side of the roughhewn passage several times with the flat of his massive ax.  The action dislodged some flat shards of rock that the big man positioned on the floor right where it met the wall. It was rather like he had fashioned a door stop of course it would not buy them much time but anytime that could be bought was precious at present.

After completing that task he looked around as if pondering any other obstacles he might place in the path of the hoard trailing them.  He spied a groove that ran crossways in the floor from one wall to the other and it was much shallower than the main floor. And like was common in rough passages it was not at all close to being straight so the shield wall would not hit it and drop down evenly. Grunting to himself he reached into the pouch at his side and pulled out a handful of cowtrops. The wicked spikes metal shards had four points and one was always sticking up.  He laid them along the groove for yet another thing to buy them some time.

He then scooped up Bane once more and motioned for him to lead on. They were in a tight spot and standing around and wringing hands about it was not going to make it any loser. And now their options for exit were limited to one particular direction so forward it was.

[selfexiled]

Seeing and understanding Koreshian's moves Gerald nods in agreement and runs out in fron of the shields and makes for the other end of the passage. Thier quarry close the orcs increase thier rush only to wedge the shield on Koreshian's impromptu trap, the wall comes to an all be it short but jarring halt. MOre than a few curses could be heard before the mass behind the shields pushed through and shattered the rock wedge, the delay bought precious seconds as Gerald and Koreshian neared the next bend marked in blood. Angered that they were losing thier prey the horde blindly crossed the caltrops.

Several howls of pain and a great metal crash was heard as they rounded teh corner not caring to look back. They would guess that the orcs holding up the shields found the caltrops first and the instinctual reaction caused them to drop the shields even as tehy were likely pushed forward by the horde behind, causing more to be skewered by the remaining caltrops. It would take time to get the injured both off the shields and out of the way so the horde could move again. Others simply chose to follow without the shields. Which also meant they would be faster than thier brothren.

[Retribution]

Koreshian ran behind Gerald with a tight smile on his lips at the difficulties he heard behind them.  The big man did not make a lot of noise when he ran either again despite his raw size. Of course the little traps he had laid just offered them a slight bit of time and space. If they did not find what they sought soon all would be lost. But then he spotted two ghostly figures in the lava lit gloom up ahead. He slowed and pointed them out for Gerald "there!" He had never seen the Queen in his life but he could not think of why else a human female would be here. But the figure with her did not look right and he smelled the foul stench of yet another kind of magic "careful she is not alone and there is magic here."

[selfexiled]

Following Koreshian's hand Gerald looked up and saw the two figures standing against the light. Yes that was his queen beaten and scarred though she may be even from this distance he knew that shape and that stance. No one else in the world stood like that but her. The pale creature beside her though he had never seen and even looking at him hurt his eyes, there was something wrong about him, something very wrong.

"Maeryn! Maeryn my queen! My love I have found you!" Elation fueled his muscles as he approached the pair at a quick pace but wariness of the pale man kept him from an all out run, unsure of the man purpose for being there.

[Retribution]

Koreshian looked to Gerald and figured he had done what was his task to this point. The finer points of politics and just who to hell it was with the Queen was to some extent his problem now. But he really hoped that they would not take overly long sorting out the entire matter. The axman then turned and faced where the orc hoard would inevitably come from. He gripped Bane and prepared to face his foes because Brom smiled upon those who looked their death in the eyes without fear.

[knifeparty]

He watched Maeryn tongue the blood of the dead from her borrowed blade with admiration. It was beautiful – like watching a lion enjoy its kill, it was pure watching Maeryn do what she was born to. Her heart beats to take the lives of others, and that is familiar. He’s so lost in it he’s almost deaf the other calling her name as they emerge from the depths of the passage, the thunder of orcs behind them.

He turns, backlit by the tunnel exit and casts his deathly gaze upon the intruders. Koreshian can sense his black magic, but Gerald can practically see oblivion radiating from him, falling like black dust from an unseen halo.  He regards the pair of them for only a moment before turning back to Maeryn with his final instruction.

“These two are not for you. Leave!”

The haze of blackness that surrounds him thickens as his presence looks to choke the life out of daylight behind him. He calls to Maeryn’s rescuers.

“Turn and face your enemies or they’ll kill us all.”

He’s already heading for the exit while his eyes leave the two men and the train of orcs that are about to grind them between their teeth. He pushes Maeryn towards out of the tunnel mouth, into the bright daylight she’d not seen for so long. It was windy, bright and cold but it slowed him none. Unarmoured, he was well balanced as he leads a deft, scrambling run and climb across the face of the mountain.

[selfexiled]

Never in his life had Gerald seen so dark a creature. Death and decay dripped off him like sweat and tears, ash seemed to rise from his every movement. Surely he was death incarnate. But he knew the creature's words were true the orc horde was still coming and they would have to be stopped before anyone could think of resting.
Pointing to the creature beside Mearyn, "You and I will have words later, demon." Turning to Mearyn He unslung a sack hidden beneath his cloak all this time, "My queen I believe you shall feel more comfortable in these." Passing the bag towards her with a small reverance, it was her armor. Setting it down before her he reached to his void pouch opened it and drew out her old friends, her blades... setting them before her as well, "Arm yourself and make for the exit you've been in these caves to long."

Turning now he moved up beside Koreshian, "You really should leave too, I can think of only one thing to stop them and it will kill you too."

[FaeBorne]

Ears having been deafened to the sounds of familiarity by so long in captivity preened at the sound of her name being shouted from the lips of the man she had chosen as Tirasfel's King. Lord Fosten, Gerald.....Love? There was no more room in her heart for such emotion and she whirled in a spin of tattered robes drawing herself up in regal stance. Legs spread, blooded dagger clung to with a viciousness that seemed to coil about her entire form and spew from eyes so green they would put emeralds to shame. Her tongue dragged over split dried lips and she said nothing, silent in her confusion. Had Fosten finally come for her? She looked passed him towards Koreshian unaware whom he was, yet he looked every inch as the Barbarians that had helped to kidnap her. She stepped backwards from Gerald, one step, two, heels smacking into the dead body of the Sentry she had just desecrated.

Bags were pushed into her hands, as well as blades with familiar weight. Startled she broke from the nightmare that had consumed her since the Death-Seer had freed her from her position over the Abyss. The Death-Seer was speaking to them all, and pushing Maeryn towards the entry. Sunlight made her shield her eyes with the pain it brought. Tears unbidden streamed from those beautiful orbs for no other reason save having been starved so long from radiance, they had been unaccustomed and were in blinding pain. Turning from the exit she looked once more at Fosten as he spoke to her and gave over to her, things he knew she needed.

Maeryn held the items gifted by Gerald tight against her, the dagger she had used dropped into the dirt and laid forgotten. She stared over her shoulder at Fosten and her brow furrowed. Words choked out upon her lips, and she still remained stoic and silent, unable to give him any encouragement. Nodding at him as he told her to go while he turned to face the horde of Orc that were coming to bring death to them all. Confusion rode over her face destroying any other emotion she had, save wrath. Anger fueled her to follow the Death-Seer, who had not failed her yet and she turned to run for the exit, following the one Gerald had labeled as Demon.

Arming herself would have to wait but she held her armor and blades as if they were precious things. There was barely a second to lose as her feet took to the side of the Mountain path he ran upon and she scrambled behind him with an iron will not to trip and fall. Finally her voice called out as she fought to catch up with the dark man-thing that had saved her.

"Wait... wait for me..."

Eyes closed, tears making dirty tracks along her grub-ridden pale cheeks and neck.  She knew not who she followed, save that he had saved her, but to what end? Was this just another, who wished her harm. Feet did not slow, because in the back of her mind a tiny voice reminded her. 'He promised you Vengeance Maeryn.....go with him, and kill all who have betrayed you." Whether he waited or not, made little difference, her resolve steeled and she picked up her pace to catch up.

[Retribution]

Koreshian Surestrike Berserker warrior looked between the clearly dysfunctional trio that he found himself allied with and then back down the tunnel to the screeching sound of the iron wall the orcs were once more pushing to grind them all to dust. The death mage made his skin crawl and Gerald’s words were not much better as they were an order to blasphemy his religion. Those who follow Brom might make retreats but to out and out cut and run was not in them. As for the Queen he would let these two men sort that out. One stunk of death and the other stunk of elf and the chieftain of the wolf nomads cared not for that.

So right there he resolved to do several things: first he was about to send that orc hoard screaming to meet their maker, second he was going to send Gerald to sort it out with that death seer sans a certain barbarian’s presence, and lastly when this was done he was going home and gutting a certain Jarl and being done with it. There was a certain gleam in his eyes when he looked back to the King not sure if he had ever seen one of Brom’s when the desperation forced the Berserker out. “Go sort that out” he bobbed his head back toward the retreating Queen and her dark escort “I will slow up these then be right behind you.”

With each word he spoke the barbarian’s voice became more chilling to the soul yet seemed to possess an odd heat. The look in his eyes seemed to cause them to virtually glow.  And the short hairs on the backs of necks stood on end. The retreating death mage and Queen could surely feel it and Gerald would be struck by what it is like to be in the presence of a god’s temporary Avatar. Berserkers legends tell of the fierce shock troops of the barbarians who in times of stress can call on the god Brom’s strengths to be virtually immune to pain and possessing of strength beyond human comprehension. Now they often die once they come down from the high of bearing a god’s will but it is very impressive till then.

Without waiting for an answer the massive mound of muscle and bad intentions turned toward the approaching metal wall with an orc hoard behind it. Gerald would either take his advice or not but Koreshian was far beyond the touch of higher thought now. The only thing he could think of in his fogged and obsessive mind was crush his enemies. “BROM!” screamed from his lips once more as he turned and charged the metal plate that was bearing down on them. Bane held parallel and nearly touching the floor. His thick shoulders collided with the metal plate and there was the crunching sound of Koreshian’s bones breaking while the spike at the head of the great battle ax slid under the scant edge of the metal plate.

The big man paid no attention to his own broken collar bone as he let out a grunt and wrenched the shield wall to a stop and twisted it in the passage so it could not be slid any more. A great din rose up on the other side of the barrier as the wall ground to a halt and physics took over. Those orcs in back were caught pressing against their fellows in front who were now trapped against the shield wall. And with the weight of numbers the orcs began to slowly exterminate one another using the press of their own bodies.

[selfexiled]

Gerald was confident im his queen's ability to care for herself especially now that she would be properly armed, but he knew that she would not be able to fend off all these orcs so he had to stop them from getting to her.

Koreshian wanted him to leave, well that wouldn't happen. They may not be friends but they had a deal and Gerald didn't break promises. Of course if Koreshian kept his current pace he'd likely kill himself in the process and while that would end the agreement it went against Gerald's morals to just let the man die. Vaela It was a slight variation of the first healing spell he learned from the spear which cured poisons this would hopefully mend Koreshian's wounds or atleast ease the pain of them and speed the healing process Gerald didn't know he'd never used this one.

Seeing that Koreshian jammed the shieldwall in place he had to smirk a little knowing the orcs were crushing themselves against it. But how long would it hold? One corner wrenched forward an inch under the pressure but it still held as the rock and dust rained down from the ceiling, it would fall but when and how many corpses would be on the other side?

[Retribution]

His task complete the god left Koreshian and his body visibly sagged as his left arm hung useless at his side.  He held Bane in his right and stumbled back toward Gerald like a drunken man. Slowly the massive barbarian regained his bearings and walked with more purpose but he was clearly exhausted. The din at the metal wall behind them grew louder and louder. It would hold a while and the weight of the dead would hold a while beyond that. They now had time because dislodging the wall would take them time as it would for them to reroute to other exits.

Koreshian broke into a light distance eating jog as he passed the King “let’s go.” Were his only words and his pace was rather good. But the dangling arm slowed him and made him more awkward than normal. But with a dogged determination he kept putting one foot in front of the other. Once they regained horses then things would get simpler if not easy. He did not wait for Gerald or look back to see if he followed it was as one got to know the man typical of the Wolf barbarian. Few words and gruff gestures and soon the entrance the other two had slipped out was at his face bright light and fresh air but still Koreshian did not pause.

[knifeparty]

He had the surity of a mountain goat as he traversed the shale littered, craggy face of the mountain, hurdling smaller obstacles and effortlessly picking his footing. It was like he knew this path, and knew it well.

He heard her and seemed to pause with a reluctance that ate at Maeryn. The comforting weight of presence suddenly threatening to tear away from her and leave her to Gerald, Koreshian and the Orcs.

"Leave your gifts, they slow you..." His voice didnt' carry well on the wind but the flick his hand was enough to suggest she discard her burden.

It was a command, and what choice did she have. He'd outrun them all, including her. She was worn down by her ordeal, he could see it written across her face, and there was pity there at having to drag her through this last part. The image of her licking the blade flickers behind his eyes and recognises the thirst which steels her, again.

"We'll run until dark, Maeryn, they'll be far behind, and then we'll hide. "

And with he leads their descent into the thin scrub of the mountain side. It only rakes his ankles and knees at first, but soon thickens, becoming a tangled, hive of thorns that is several men high. Even the death mage bleeds as he continues to set his ragged pace into hell.

[selfexiled]

Seems that the spell didn't work, oh well, he'll help Koreshian wrap it later if they had the chance. The shield was wedged rather well and the bodies behind it would help slow the horde. Gerald turned to follow Koreshian, Stopping outside the the entryway he turned and released a volley of light balls into the ceiling passage. Falto, falto, falto, falto The blasts echoed mightily as rubble and rock rained down clogging the passage even more. Time for now would be on their side.

Maeryn and the creature were well out of sight but the stnik of darkness and evil was tangable on the air as Gerald followed this path he found the few spots where Maeryn may have slipped on the shale, which was just a disturbance in the dirt and pebbles. Pausing a moment Gerald closed his eyes and took a deep slow breath and slowly let it out as he mentally told his eyes to go beyond what was visible and see auras again. Such was the taint about this other man that it left a trail and he could now see that he went up and then down a further stretch down the mountain. The path he'd taken had been safer than a straight shot, likely more as a courtesy to Maeryn than himself. But Gerald didn't need such things, Focusing again he brought to his hands and feet a layer of 'hair' roots to help him grab at the tiny crevices in the rock face and then carried on the straighter path to converge with the remnent trail of his quarry. But at the same time his use of magic was starting to tell, as he moved his mind had bouts of fuzziness the soul remnent within the spear was coming out with the use of magics and was now starting to fight for control of his body.

[Retribution]

Once they cleared the tunnel the elfling stopped to call on magic and further slow their foes. Koreshian did as well crinkling his nose at the foul smell of magic that seemed to be everyplace now. About then he noticed he could move his bad arm and crinkled his nose even more. Apparently Gerald had spelled him and his natural magic resistance had failed after some time. His arm felt good and he could move it and the massive mound of muscle and bad attitude straightened up and shifted his ax to what had been his bad hand. He also drew some cleansing breaths and while he could not bring himself to thank Gerald he did not scold him either he simply said nothing as if the magic had not taken place.

He then followed Gerald as he clearly called on magic to trail the Queen and whatever to heil that other thing was. It all made him uncomfortable as did the obviously building rivalry between the two men. The big barbarian on a lot of levels did not sign on for that kind of saga but his part was not quite done all the same. Pursuit would be a while catching up and being mounted would be better “I will go get our mounts and I will grab a stray for your Queen.  I can catch up easy enough” that with luck would give time for it all to iron out. He had not mentioned grabbing a fourth mount and he knew he could find them easy enough just follow the stench of magic.