The Legacy of Fjánnin

[The SheoDovah]

Navariësé let out a grunt as she was forced backwards and was pushed back into the fight. "I will kill you for what your bethren have done to the city!" She growled as she thrusted her left sword towards the raiders stomach whilst swinging her right sword at the raider's sword.

[Dirty Spaceman]

Ben joined the battle, crossbow in hand. Rather than rush into the skirmish, he searched for a higher ground or some other vantage point for him to get a good line of sight to fire on the pirates. A relatively safe position would be desirable, he kept in mind. He loaded up a bolt while he looked.

[POMC S117]

The Battle

Regis, slowed considerably by his efforts at magic, and his brain dulled by the exertion, could not parry the blade in time, but did manage to force a change in the direction of the blade. Regis may have cried out in pain as the sword caught him in the crook of the elbow, cutting into the skin, but not deep enough to sever it.

Navariësé had not had time to balance herself when she went on the offensive. Her first strike tipped her forward, her second one opening her wide to retribution. The raider dodged the first strike and caught Navariësé's right blade with his own. With a fierce kick, he knocked Navariësé over and into the mud.

There were houses nearby, houses with thatched roofs, easily accessible due to the boxes and pallets that piled around them on the muddy streets. Ben spotted a pile of boxes, arranged much like a badly-designed staircase, that would allow him passage to the roofs, from where he could espy enemies and fire without fear of retaliation.

[Rook]

A sharp cry of pain escaped Regis's lips as his vision blurred from tears forced to his eyes, and warm blood dripping from his wound and staining both his pants and the ground below him.

"What is it that drives you, anyway?" Firentis asks, his face bathed in the shadow cast by the burning flames, "You obviously disliked this job. Why'd you take it if you knew what it entailed?" I reply grimly, "I want to see the world. The good... and the evil. If the world can truly be set in those arbitrary definitions. If I don't see the world from one side, how can I hope to fully understand mine?" He laughs, brushing it off as the melodramatic ramblings of a jaded young man. However, I simply nod and we turn away from the burning village. But as we walk to rejoin our fellow mercenaries, he mutters, voice muffled by the thick steel helmet he refuses to remove:

"You've got a long way to go, kid."

Regis jerked himself out off the past and into the present, his vision unfogging as he blinked away the wetness. He fell into a defensive stance, a much more effective strategy than putting his sluggish reflexes to the test in an offensive attack.

[Hissien]

"Just breathe slowly, there, just like that. I'll have the wound closed in a moment." Alytrra said as a bead of sweat dribbled down the side of her head. She was exhausted, her mind was tense, very much so. But there was work to be done, with only the barest reserves of essence left, she resorted to the art that was religion, spell craft and alchemy all in one, witch magic. Holding her tome, her most prized and valued artifact, in hand she drew forth a totem from her bag. It was a silver depiction of the goddess of creation, her maiden.

"I call upon the Goddess Alitura my namesake and guide, heal the wounds of these men, for they are but your lost children. Goddess, Clanmother to all, through the forests and the trees, the animals and the plants, and magic I ask you as your servant for this aid." the elf whispered, clutching the silver idol in her hand.

[POMC S117]

The Battle

The pirated moved in with another attack, but this time, Regis' sword met his own blade, and the sound of metal rang into the air, though it could not be deciphered and picked out amongst the whining of other swords and the pained and wrathful wails of those that bore them. The pirate gritted his teeth and pushed forward with his blade, seeking to overpower Regis. Regis could feel his injury burning with the pain as he fought the pirate.

The Injured

As battle raged not a great distance away, Alytrra thought she could hear pained screams and shouts coming from afar. It could be a trick of the wind, or a sound from another source, for the sounds were but wraiths, seeming distant and invisible, barely present. Besides, Alytrra had more pressing matters. The man that she was tending to had received an ugly wound. His leather armour had been ripped, his ribs crushed by the flat side of an orkish sword, his flesh ravaged by the serrated edge. He coughed and groaned, biting his tongue to keep in the pain, to not show fear of death or knowledge of pain. He barely seemed to have a grip on this world, gazing into the air, looking around, without paying attention to what he saw. But the silver attracted his eyes, and focused his mind, and he groaned once more.

"It is as though it were carved from the moon and stars." he whispered, between a great wave of pain. His breath was rough and haggard. He panted like a dog, but still could not find enough air to support his body, as it struggled to survive.

Alytrra could feel the smallest of strength return to her, as though her prayers were answered, but something was preventing the full extent of that answer from reaching her. Still, it was enough for more spells, though, how many more spells that would entail before she collapsed was unknown.

[Dirty Spaceman]

Ben went for the stack of boxes. He stayed low, and was careful to keep his balance on his way up the unreliable, makeshift staircase. Once he reached the roof, he would crouch down and loose his bolt at the best opportunity he could see to hit a pirate.

[Hissien]

Alytrra

A single tear fell down from the Witch's eye, she could not save this man. That was the truth. Utterly true, for she knew it to be so. "I am sorry, but I can only ease your passing." She said, as painlessly as she could, she held a hand to the man's head. "Would you give anything to save your comrades? Would you die so that they might live?" She asked, another tear falling from her lavender eyes.

[The SheoDovah]

Navariësé swung her left sword towards the raider's leg as she got up whilst using the other sword to try to block any strikes that the raider threw at her. She wanted to do nothing more then to kill the sick son of a [&@%!] that had been involved with the murder of women,children and ordinary men, from her point of view.

[POMC S117]

The Attack

Ben's bolt flew from above, arcing down quickly, and landing upon the head of a pirate. Ben was not as safe as he may have seemed, for he felt a rushing of wind pass him as a pirate returned fire with a crooked bow.

Navariësé was not able to get enough force behind her swing in such a limited space, and her sword didn't cut or slice its way through the pirate's flesh, but, he was left with a nasty bruise as the metal battered his shin. The pirate fell back, knocking over a few of his cronies behind him.

The Injured

"So, the angel cannot save me." he croaked. "Do what you must. If I bar the path for my comrades salvation, then I must be laid aside and forgotten. My only regrets are those I leave behind. Do it, ease me in my passing, so that you can save the others."

[Hissien]

"By the Goddess' virtue I witness your claim. Let it be!" Alytrra said with regret deep in her eyes, she bent down slowly, kissing the wounded soldier on his forehead. "Your time is done, end your struggle, ease the pain and release your soul to Alitura maiden of the earth and true creator of all. Let your spark fuel my prayer and let my prayer heal the others, take what magic I have left, take what life you still possess, and take the flesh from your bones. The life of one for all the rest." Alytrra whispered, calling on the goddess to take the very soul of this man, clutching her idol in her hand.

Hidden:

Tragically, she doesn't even know she is dooming him to the void and sending him to Norkel. Norkel more or less consumed Alitura's sphere of influence and took her worshippers right?

[The SheoDovah]

Navariësé knew that if she struck the pirate where he was, she would be facing his cronies and in the limited space, she knew she would be very likely to die. So she waited for the pirate to strike at her and would attempt to parry it before trying to thrust a sword into his chest.

[Dirty Spaceman]

Ben retreated back across the roof to the edge that faced away from the fighting, and crouched down while he loaded up another bolt. Moving quickly and remaining close to the ground, he advanced once more to spectate upon the fighting. He took care to appear a few metres away from his original firing position. With more urgency this time, he targeted the pirate that had shot at him, and fired as soon as he settled his aim. After loosing the bolt, he would retreat once more back out of range to hopefully avoid another potential attack.