SolitudeScribe
Mage in plate. Because magicka runs out.
The flame outburst and raining glass shards inspired Ljúfa to bolt ahead of Rodmar, Khan and J'marco, staff brandished and aiming at one particular bandit in particular who stood his ground in the back of the group. The Dunmer's palms glowed with frost, hurling the ice spikes at Ljúfa who struggled to maintain a magical ward between her and the mage. It helped shrug off a bulk of the spells but the Battlemage did not anticipate the Dark Elf to summon a frost antronach, its faceless form proceeding to make its way at the black haired woman at an alarming speed.
Her face instantly got greeted by an outstretched, frost covered arm. It kept the battlemage in a daze, giving the Dunmer bandit mage enough time to retreat up one of the fort's exterior rickety steps. Ljúfa hounded after him and the pair disappeared at the very top, leaving the cold minion to trail after her gradually and giving the traveling crew ample time to wrestle with the chilly familiar if they chose to.
But, those down below and within ear shot make out the sound of shattering glass, hissing flames and the a weapon gradually beating away. It was akin to a butcher's cleaver coming down on fresh meat. All accompanied by the nameless Dunmer howling and cursing in pain until silence cloaked him.
A few minutes later, Ljúfa continued to sing the song with a bit more force, shouting:
"But then he went quiet, did Ragnar the Red, when he met the shieldmaiden Matilda who said…
Oh, you talk and you lie and you drink all our mead! Now I think it’s high time that you lie down and bleed!"
She stood on her new perch, looking at the trio with a right hand over a blooded gash on the side of her cheek. The wincing journey back down the poor excuse of steps began, left hand possessively holding her staff for support.
"HEY!" she barked with authority. "Are there anymore?!"
Her face instantly got greeted by an outstretched, frost covered arm. It kept the battlemage in a daze, giving the Dunmer bandit mage enough time to retreat up one of the fort's exterior rickety steps. Ljúfa hounded after him and the pair disappeared at the very top, leaving the cold minion to trail after her gradually and giving the traveling crew ample time to wrestle with the chilly familiar if they chose to.
But, those down below and within ear shot make out the sound of shattering glass, hissing flames and the a weapon gradually beating away. It was akin to a butcher's cleaver coming down on fresh meat. All accompanied by the nameless Dunmer howling and cursing in pain until silence cloaked him.
A few minutes later, Ljúfa continued to sing the song with a bit more force, shouting:
"But then he went quiet, did Ragnar the Red, when he met the shieldmaiden Matilda who said…
Oh, you talk and you lie and you drink all our mead! Now I think it’s high time that you lie down and bleed!"
She stood on her new perch, looking at the trio with a right hand over a blooded gash on the side of her cheek. The wincing journey back down the poor excuse of steps began, left hand possessively holding her staff for support.
"HEY!" she barked with authority. "Are there anymore?!"