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18+ An Era of Dusk

Discussion in 'Active Stories' started by Madrar, Feb 28, 2020.

  1. Morbidbread

    Morbidbread Fight for the lost

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    Thoras watched as Sothas made his way over to the confrontation between the elf and the orc and begin doing his best to get them to stand down. The dunmer wasn't sure how much luck he would meet with, but he was no longer focused on the three of them. He was not overly fond of the dank, still air but it did carry sound fairly well. In the distance, something impacted the waters. It sounded heavy- a large human, or at least one traipsing around in heavy armour. Or perhaps not.

    He frowned, trying to draw a bead on the general location. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw both khajiit doing the same, straining their ears. That was sufficient evidence that he had not just imagined the noise. Taking a firmer grip on his glaive, he said "not to alarm anyone, but I think we're about to have company."
     
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  2. Madrar

    Madrar The Shadow in the Dark.

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    Merric frowned and turned towards Thoras as the dunmer announced that they were about to be having company. The pair of khajiit had gone still as well, save to speak to their companions. That, paired with Thoras' warning, had Merric on edge, and he drew his blade a few centimetres. His skin prickled as he turned in a slow circle on the partially sunken path.

    He had completed three quarters of his turn when he saw the woman. She stood at least a dozen metres away, up to her knees in frigid, murky water. The plain yellow dress she wore was torn and faded and she had no footwear that Merric could see. Despite this, she showed no sign that the cold affected her as she stood staring at the group, head tilted ever so slightly to the right.

    The most distinctive feature of the woman was that she was very clearly dead. Or rather, undead. A broken spear shaft protruded from her ribs, and her jaw hung open. Suddenly, she jolted into motion, making for Merric and the others in jerking movements, more like a string puppet than a creature of flesh and blood.

    Movement to the right and left drew his attention, announcing the presence of at least a dozen more of the dead things. Some were clothed in common clothes, some adventuring gear, and some the blue uniform of the stormcloaks. They all stared hungrily at the party as they shambled closer. "We have a problem!" Merric shouted, drawing his blade fully and facing off against the nearest of the slime covered zombies.
     
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  3. TheArgonianDrell

    TheArgonianDrell Well-Known Member

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    Aylira wandered to the edge of where path met marsh as Sothas continued to glower at the pair of quarreling party members. She couldn't care less if they decided to carve into each other- more reward for the rest of them. She tuned out the conversation from the others as she listened for any signs of trouble. She wasn't expecting much- if the stormcloaks wanted to ambush them, it would have been better to do so on the road, with even terrain. She was about to turn back and rejoin the rest of the group when she heard it. A heavy impact somewhere off behind her and to the side. Her hands drifted down to her blades. "Sothas!" She called out, adding some urgency to her tone.

    Her companion glanced back at her, "hang on. The two of you ought to know better. We're out in the middle of unfamiliar territory, and you decide to draw blades on one another?"

    "Sothas!" This time the argonian did look at her.

    "Wait a moment, please. The sooner we get this sorted out, the sooner we can move on."

    The dunmer hissed through her teeth. "Sothas. There's something out there!"

    Halfway turned back towards the elf and the orc, the argonian froze and turned back to his companion. "What?"

    Anything she might have said was cut off by the imperial man shouting about a problem. The kind of problem, she saw, that was currently stumbling out of the swampy water towards them. In an instant, her blades were in her hand, one long dagger, the other a curving blade. "I told you I heard something," she muttered petulantly. She met with the first walking corpse, a man that might have been handsome, if he wasn't missing most of his face, with a flurry of slashing blows. The thing stumbled back under the onslaught, rancid smelling blood oozing from the wounds. The zombie gurgled at her and reached out with rotted, greenish fingers. The dunmer swayed aside and took the things head off with a backhanded sing of her curved blade, head and body toppling back into the water.

    Sothas swung his shield off his back and readied his great weapon. A second walking corpse emerged from the swamps in mud smeared and weed covered studded leather armour. The hulking argonian took a single chop at the area between the mans' shoulder and neck. The heavy blade carved through flesh, muscle and bone, like a knife through overripe fruit. His blade came to a stop at the center of the creatures chest. With a grunt, he tore his weapon free and sent the former nord back into the water with a shield bash that knocked it clear off its feet.
     
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  4. Rafen

    Rafen Well-Known Member

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    Zarr's whispered warning was all the warning he had, as a shuffling, groaning thing that might have been a man once, stumbled out from behind a tree. Most of his right side had been crushed, by a hammer or mace, maybe. Drens' bastard sword cleared its' sheathe with a hiss of steel on leather and not a moment too soon. The undead man clawed at the breton, but he had already backed away and readied his blade. Drens' downswing took the monsters' right arm off at the elbow. Not dissuaded, it shuffled fowards, making ready to repeat the attack with its remaining limb. Now that it was closer, Dren caught the full unpleasantness of its' stench and saw got a closer view of rotting flesh than he'd ever wanted.

    Fighting the urge to vomit, he grasped his blade two handed and with a desperate shout, took the things head clean off. The corpse managed another step, then fell with a wet thud onto the uneven road. From ahead, he heard one of their traveling companions cry out, then the sound of blades tearing into flesh. 'We're surrounded' he realized, a sinking feeling in his gut. As the thought crossed his mind, a second of the undead stepped forwards, followed by a third. "Zarr, get behind me!" He said, wondering how many of the damned beasts the swamps hid.
     
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  5. Morbidbread

    Morbidbread Fight for the lost

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    Thoras' suspicions were confirmed as undead began rushing forth from deeper within the swamps. The dark elfs' lip curled into a disgusted sneer, "necromancy" the word was hissed through clenched teeth as he readied his glaive. The elf had dropped his carefree attitude, replacing it with a cold focus. The first of the rotting corpses, a woman in the tattered remnants of a stormcloak uniform, was decapitated by the keen blade of his weapon. The corpse stumbled and sprawled across the road as two more of its' comrades shambled towards him. With a grimace, the dunmer made his way forwards, making sure that none of the dead were moving to surround him.

    The second corpse was still reaching for him as his blade chopped into its' ribs. The creature stumbled under the force of the blow, but otherwise didn't seem to register several broken ribs it had just received. The elf used the greater ranged of his weapon, tearing it free and hacking down on top of the zombies skull. The blade bit deeply into the bone and brain matter, splitting the former humans' face in two. Thoras wrenched the weapon free as the dead thing collapsed to its knees and then forward, onto its' face. At that point, the third zombie was almost on top of him.

    With the creature too close to strike with the blade, Thoras spun his glaive around his body, transferring hands and changing the angle of the weapon, so that the butt of the glaive struck the advancing zombie in the chin. It's head snapped back and it took a single step backwards, before starting to advance on the dunmer once more. Thoras spun his weapon again, vertically this time, bringing the tip of the blade level with the creatures torso. Putting his weight into the attack, he speared forwards, the blade of the glaive punching through the zombies chest and into the trunk of the tree behind it. He realized his mistake when a snarl to his left signaled the arrival of a fourth undead, and his blade remained stubbornly embedded in the trunk.

    With a curse, he reached into his coat, and whipped one of his knives into the creatures chest. The blade bit into rotten flesh and stuck there, like some odd ornament. If the zombie realized several inches of steel were now embedded in its torso, it gave no indication. That was bad, Thoras knew, his eyes drawn the broken, rusting shortsword the creature clutched. He almost chuckled at the idea of dying in a fetid swamp, with his best weapon lodged in a tree.
     
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  6. Harkatti

    Harkatti Sorceress Supreme!

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    As it turned out, Zarr hadn't been imagining things when she'd told Dren she heard something out in the swamps, though she badly wished she had been. The lurching undead were bad enough to look at, but the stench was almost overpowering. She heard her companion shouting for her to get behind him as he cut down a pair of the creatures. Not needing to be told twice, she turned and nearly crashed into one of the undead. She yelped in surprise, pulling her daggers as she leapt backwards, out of the growling beasts range. Her blades flashed and fingers fell to the dirt and mud at the zombies feet. The thing didn't even seem to notice it had lost most of its' digits. She glanced down at her daggers, wondering how on nirn she was supposed to kill such a thing.
     
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  7. Aethalia

    Aethalia Well-Known Member

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    Ysane's eyes narrowed as the argonian made his way over, attempting to intervene. Despite his closeness, she heard little of what he was actually saying. An odd rushing noise filled her ears, her gaze fixed on the edge of her blade, very nearly resting on the orcs' throat. Outside stimulant came rushing back almost too late. The shouts and sounds of blades striking flesh snapped her out of her murderous trance. Her ears picked up the sound of blundering footsteps from behind her, clearly not one of their companions, she realized as the stench hit her. She spun, blade slashing high while her free hand went to the hilt of her second sword.

    The sight of her would be assailant, toppling headless onto the soft ground of the swamp gave her a moments pause. The woman had once been a villager, possibly like the ones they had set out to find. But rot had begun to set in and there was a putrid stump where her left arm should be. Undead. The almter womans' lip curled in distaste as she unsheathed her second weapon, realizing more of the creatures were now upon them By the look of things, they had stumbled into an ambush. Or drawn one to them. She felt a moments' shame as she realized her confrontation with the orc may have brought the zombies down on the group.

    She shook her head, clearing the doubts from her mind as she focused herself, lifting her finely crafted blades. As a pair of creatures stumbled towards her, she began to spin towards them, blades out, cutting through the air as she moved closer, keeping her eyes on the targets. Unaware of the danger they were in, the zombies stumbled blindly forwards, jaws gaping, arms outstretched. As she reached the undead, he blades flashed half a dozen times in as many seconds. A moment later, both reverted to corpses, their lacerated bodies falling in two different directions.
     
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  8. Andre Marek

    Andre Marek You can run, but you'll only die tired...

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    Kaliir had barely gotten her warning out when the Imperial, Merric he thought, shouted that they did indeed have company. Turning away from the Kaliir, Lorkas was surprised to see several people rushing out of the swamp towards their group, all of them displaying varying degrees of decomposition of their bodies. Most had rotting flesh, hanging from exposed bones, while others had horrific and very obviously lethal wounds visible across their bodies.

    Lorkas took a step back as a spray of blood struck his side. Looking over to the source he saw that the Argonian had already sent one of the undead crashing back into the swamp it had crawled out of. All around him the group was preparing to, or actively defending themselves from the onslaught. Lorkas did the same; with a quick gesture he cast a spell towards Kaliir which shoved one of the dead away from her leg as the creature clambered out of the swamp and onto the road. Raising his hand he cast a stream of fire into and then through the attackers head, melting its already shattered visage and causing it to crumple to the cobblestone.

    Without hesitation he proceeded to throw fireballs into the attacking hoard as they shambled out of the mist towards the group. Flames splashed into the water, causing steam to explode around them and the undead skin of the attackers to boil away disgustingly. As he focused, Lorkas was able to land several hits, the flames melting through bone and what flesh remained on some of the attackers.
     
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  9. TheShadedOne

    TheShadedOne The Angry One

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    Kaliir unsheathed her blade as the dead things shambled out of the swamps, gnashing blackened teeth and reaching with rusted weapons or rotted fingers. She had barely taken a step towards the main fight, when Lorkas unleashed a spell in her direction. She yelped, half wondering if the mage had decided to thin the ranks of the group himself, when she heard something near her leg sliding through the muck. The crawling zombie managed a frustrated sounding snarl before Lorkas directed a stream of flame through it's skull. The thing collapsed onto the cobblestones of the road, undeniably dead.

    She started to thank him, then remembered herself and settled for a short nod. With the threat of losing a chunk of her leg dealt with, for the moment any ways, she took in the battlefield. Most of her companions were doing well enough, chopping through, or in Lorkas' case, blasting apart the undead. She did, however, spot the insistently annoying Thoras, glaive jammed through one of the zombies, with another rapidly closing in. As she watched, the dark elf flicked his wrist and a blur of silver stuck into the things' chest. Which did absolutely nothing to stop it.

    While she had only just been considering having the elf killed, or at least considering the possibility, she wasn't about to let some shambling dead thing hack him down in the middle of stinking swamp. Focused on an easy kill, it didn't hear Kaliir approach, or the rush of air that followed her blade. Moonfang cut through flesh, muscle, and spine in one quick slash. The thing fell in two halves, releasing an awful stench that made her reconsider saving the elf. "I'm starting to think" she said to no one in particular, "that there's something about this swamp the stormcloaks didn't tell us!"
     
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  10. Thesius

    Thesius The Imperial Paladin

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    Argus glanced at the dunmer, wondering what Thoras talking about. He was about to ask just that when Merric cried out in surprise, drawing the nords gaze out to the swamps. People were swarming towards them in ragged clothing, some clutching weapons, but most empty handed. It took the warlock a moment to realize that these 'people' weren't people at all, but risen dead. He remembered the words of the soldier at the road, not so long ago. Apparently, the man had been on to something. "Necromancy" he heard Thoras hiss, suddenly dropping his somewhat cheerful and carefree attitude in a heartbeat. The anger in the elfs voice was surprising but there was no time to dwell on that. The dead were closing on them with an urgent hunger that seemed obvious even in their dead, emotionless eyes. Those that had eyes, that was. Argus readied his axe.

    He had his spells as well, but they were limited in usage, and besides, he wasn't sure he wanted the others asking awkward questions about why his magic was different than most mages. The first of the undead foolish enough to rush him went down with his axe in it's chest. The keen blade cut through waterlogged clothing and rotten flesh with equal ease. It died a second death with a gurgling snarl, a pungent odour filling the air as it did so. An explosion to the left sent swamp water, limbs, and mud in every direction, indicating Lorkas had joined the fight. The nord wizard continued to incinerate or explode the oncoming undead with casual gestures that sent balls of flame into their midst.

    To the right, Thoras was laying into the dead with his glaive and the khajiit woman was on her way to join him as he impaled one of the dead with into a nearby treetrunk. Behind them, the breton and his petite khajiit companion were mirrored by Sothas and his dunmer friend. The altmer woman who had introduced herself as Ysane had apparently forgotten her feud with Balgur. "Nice to see everyone getting along for once" he grunted to Merric as he cut down another growling corpse. Movement from a cluster of trees near Lorkas drew his eye.

    Another zombie, a late comer to the battle, it seemed, stumbled onto the cobblestone road, a rusted mace clutched in its' hand. Looking around with its' one remaining eye, the zombie fixated on the nord wizard and its' mouth dropped open in a soundless snarl. Argus had no doubt his fellow nord could dispatch the creature. If he knew it was there. But as the thing shuffled closer, bringing the mace up for a skull crushing overhand strike, it seemed Lorkas was too focused on the crowd of undead surging towards the group. If he did see his attacker, it wouldn't be in time to do anything about it.

    With a muttered curse, Argus lifted his left hand, palm up, fingers slightly curled, as if cupping a bowl, and focused on the power that his 'Watcher' had bestowed upon him. An instant later, a bolt of blue-white flame flew from his palm to strike the zombie in the upper torso. The flames ravenously consumed the flesh on its' chest and face, leaving a charred, grinning skull. With a splash, the dead thing toppled back into the muck on the side of the road and Argus turned back to the fight at hand.
     
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  11. Rell

    Rell Champion of Malacath!

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    Balgur frowned as the elf woman dashed away from him. A minute ago, she'd been ready to slice his throat, and now she was dashing towards the undead that had come from...somewhere. The orc soldier ducked as a fireball blew apart a clump of the things, sending smoking gore every which way. Suddenly glad that the wizard was on their side, he readied his shield and spear.

    There was no lack of foes to pick. Wherever the dead were coming from, they certainly weren't in short supply. He stabbed the first zombie through the torso, the crossguard of his spear catching against its' ribs. He had the reach to keep the thing back out of grabbing range. With a grunt, he slammed his shield into it's face, yanking the spear back at the same time. Struggling to stay on its' feet, the zombie had no way of stopping Balgurs second, lethal blow, sending his spear blade through the zombies chin and up into its' brain.

    A second staggered out of the swamps, coming in at the orcs' side, teeth gnashing together, arms outstretched. Balgur turned, swinging his shield out wide. The iron rim of it crunched into the zombies head, snapping it to the side. Before it could recover, he swung his spear around, aiming for where neck met torso. The orc-forged blade bit deep, but not enough to take the head clean off. It stumbled, head lolling awkwardly, before finally collapsing. All around him, the fight continued.
     
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  12. Aethalia

    Aethalia Well-Known Member

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    Ysane had just finished disemboweling the third undead creature to approach her, sending the former human back into the murky waters. She noticed with chagrin that she had become somewhat separated from the rest of her companions, who remained on or near the road. Her blades continued to flash, taking the fingers from one outstretched hand, while her off hand blade removed the offending corpses head. She heard the snarl a moment before the stench hit her. It was not much in the way of warning, but it was enough. She managed to turn her shoulder so that the trolls fist smashed into it instead the side of her head. Still, the force of the blow was enough to spin her around and throw her into the stinking water of the swamp. Ysane managed to get her feet under her while keeping a hold of her blades, and backed up onto a relatively dry isle. She was no longer slowed by the water, but she was still facing off against a stinking, drooling troll.
     
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  13. Rafen

    Rafen Well-Known Member

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    Dren hewed down the undead threatening Zarr, blade parting flesh with ease. The dead were finally starting to dwindle in number, but something warned the former spellsword that the fight was not over. The few zombies that remained, not smart enough to realise they were outmatched, and lacking fear to flee, continued to trickle in, swinging rusted weapons or grasping with rotting fingers. Those weren't what drew his attention, or had his jaw dropping in horror. A pair of trolls, both easily six or seven feet tall, covered in grimy fur, and bulging with muscles,stomped forth out of the swamp. The first troll went after the elven woman, catching her by surprise and slapping her aside, into the murky waters.

    He was about to go to the elfs' aid, when the second troll started stomping towards the rear of the group. The magic that he kept suppressed surged against his mental barriers, ready- demanding, to be unleashed. With an effort, he forced the arcane power back into the recessed corner of his mind, and adjusted his grip on his sword. Unnoticed, blood trickled from his nose as the troll approached.The troll swung it's clawed hand as Dren did the same with his blade. Keen steel met thick flesh, and prevailed. The beast screamed as Drens' bastard sword took its' right arm off at the elbow. Fury burning in its' three eyes, the troll stalked closer, and Dren was even less certain of his victory.
     
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  14. TheArgonianDrell

    TheArgonianDrell Well-Known Member

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    Sothas cleaved through the fourth zombie that had been foolish enough to attack him. His great blade was covered in gore, but that didn't seem like much of a deterrent to the things. Aylira darted around, blades whirring as she cut through undead flesh, guarding his flanks. The large argonian sucked in a breath of stagnant swamp air. The swarm of dead had tapered off to nearly nothing. He lowered his blade cautiously, and glanced down at Aylira. The dark elf wiped her blades clean at the edge of the swamp waters, then her head snapped up and around. "What is it?" Sothas asked, and answered his own question when he saw a pair of trolls lumbering out of the deeper swamps. "Well..." he started to say, hefting his blade once more.

    Aylira tapped his arm with the flat of her blade. "Wait," she pointed towards a quartet of zombies that were stumbling towards the quiet breton as he faced off against a now one armed and furious troll. Sothas nodded, changing directions and charged into the group. Two were taken off guard, his blade hewing them down in an instant. The third turned to swing a spiked mace into his side, but Aylira leapt in to intercept, her curved blade knocking the weapon off course as her dagger punched into the things' eye socket. The fourth, Sothas bashed with his shield, sending it sprawling. It hit the cobblestones of the road hard, and Sothas' heavy boot crushed its' skull into paste.
     
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  15. Rell

    Rell Champion of Malacath!

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    Balgur cursed as a pair of trolls of all things made their way out of the deeper, darker parts of the swamp. He'd never heard of the three eyed beasts and undead working together, but stranger things had happened. The rest of his companions had wiped out the majority of the horde of dead. The trolls moved to flank, one at the rear of the group and the second going after the elven woman that had been holding a blade to his throat a moment ago. She was facing the beast, dripping swamp water, but she looked cornered, rather than ready for a tough fight.

    If he had been the petty, vindictive sort, he would have left the elf to fend for herself. But if serving in the legion had taught him one thing, it was that you looked out for your comrades, even if you didn't like them. He slung his shield over his back, gripped his spear with both hands, and charged, shouting a wordless warcry. Balgur was not as tall as the nord mage, or heavily built as the argonian with the heavy blade, but he built up some good momentum, charging towards the troll.

    His orichalcum blade scraped against ribs as it punched through the thick hide of the creature. It stumbled slightly, before turning its' malevolent yellow gaze on him. The former soldier moved to tear his spear free, and discovered that it was stuck inside the troll. It had caught on something in the beasts innards, and the creature was less than pleased. With a bellow that made his ears ring, it swung, claws that very nearly sheared his face off.

    With a shouted curse, he tore his gladius from its' sheathe and swung his shield back up. He managed to get it in place just as the trolls fist hammered into the center of it. With a grunt, Balgur stabbed into the trolls' gut with his blade. He was rewarded with a kick to his side that he felt even through his legion armor. He stumbled back, slashing the inside of the beasts thigh as he did. As he did, he noticed that the first stab he'd inflicted on the troll with his gladius was already healing over. "Mage!" He shouted at the top of his lungs. "Mage, we could use some help over here!"
     
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  16. Andre Marek

    Andre Marek You can run, but you'll only die tired...

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    Lorkas uttered a curse and spun around as he felt the heat of a small explosion wash over his back. He was surprised to see one of the undead, arms reaching towards him impotently as its torso and head were consumed in blue fire. He took a step back as he realized that someone else had just saved him; using magic.

    He looked around at the others but none of them were looking his way or even seemed to notice his situation, save for Argus, who Lorkas caught turning away from him just as the burnt skeleton collapsed back into the swamp. Lorkas was near certain that the other Nord had just used magic but was bewildered that he wasn't continuing to do so in a fight where it would most definitely be of great use. There must some reason he won't use it. Perhaps limited skill? Lorkas immediately discarded that notion though as the spell that had just saved him was far too advanced. Then he realized something else, If he can use magic, then perhaps he can sense it too. That might explain his reaction to the gem... Lorkas decided to keep an even better eye on Argus in the future and wondered if he should confront the man after the skirmish was over. Assuming they survived that was, as he noticed the two trolls that his comrades were now facing.

    The Orcish Legionnaire was shouting at him, requesting help as he and the Aldmeri woman he'd been arguing with earlier faced off with one of the monsters. Already the creature had been stabbed by a spear and slashed across the legs but Lorkas could see that the wounds were nearly healed even as it stomped furiously towards the pair. Quickly remembering that trolls, of all sorts were extremely susceptible to fire, Lorkas loosed a fireball at the creature, ignoring the last few undead staggering about and trusting that the others could easily dispatch them.

    The first fireball hit the creature in the shoulder causing fur, skin, and muscle to disintegrate as the flames ate away, effectively countering the troll's regenerative abilities. Roaring in anger and pain, the troll turned away from the Orc and Elf and lumbered towards him, it's powerful limbs parting the murky water easily. Lorkas was committed now as, with a flick of his wrist he threw another fireball at the charging troll, this one hitting it in the stomach and chewing it's way through more flesh. He switched quickly from throwing fireballs to casting a continuous stream of flames as his opponent closed the gap, slowing gradually as his spell burned and tore away more and more of it's muscles.

    He was almost too slow. Lorkas threw his arms up and cast a ward to protect himself as the troll threw a huge, clawed hand at him. The blow, while significantly lessened by the ward, still struck his side hard, knocking the wind out of him and sending him to one knee. But the troll collapsed as well. The magically enhanced flames having continued eating away at it until the creature could no longer sustain it's own healing. Wincing in pain, and casting a wry smile at the Orc, Lorkas slowly got to his feet and started towards the other troll, hugging his side.

     
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  17. Morbidbread

    Morbidbread Fight for the lost

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    The approaching undead was suddenly and bloodily cleaved in twain by the swing of a heavy blade. In its' place, the khajiit woman, Kaliir, stood, making no attempt to mask the disgust on her face. "My my, it seems you do like me after all" he teased.With a tug, Thoras freed his glaive from the tree and the corpse it had impaled, and returned the favour by cleaving another of the undead down one side, as it staggered towards them. He grinned at the khajiits' comment, but the appearance of a pair of trolls stole the opportunity for a snide quip. He kicked the upper half of the zombie she'd killed and retrieved his dagger, making a face at the discoloured blood upon it. Taking in the situation, it was clear the beasts had split up almost immediately, one heading for the quiet elven woman while the second attacked the breton and khajiit who'd been bringing up the rear.

    To his mild surprise, the orc soldier was the first to rush to the elven womans' defence, though the hulking beast quickly turned the tide on it. Only the intervention of the mage, burning the troll to near nothing as the enraged beast rushed at him. Even then, Lorkas didn't get away without the troll taking a swipe at him. Though he was knocked to a knee, he didn't seem badly wounded, so Thoras turned his attention to the last beast.

    It had lost an arm to the bretons' sword but that only seemed to have angered it further as it advanced on the pair. Dodging the clumsy grab of one of the few remaining undead, he broke into a sprint, switching his glaive to a one handed grip as he did so. A flick of his wrist sent one of his knives into the trolls' torso, but it paid little attention. That was fine; he didn't plan to kill the thing with throwing knives anyways. He closed the distance and once again took the glaive with both hands, swinging it at the trolls' midsection. The blade, already deadly sharp and enhanced by the dunmers' momentum, cut deeply, carving a bloody trench in its stomach. Before it could retaliate, the elf drew back and jabbed at its' shoulder, then sliced down into the chest. The blade drew blood each time, but on his last strike, Thoras noticed the first wound he'd inflicted was already healing.
     
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  18. Harkatti

    Harkatti Sorceress Supreme!

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    Zarr watched the troll make its' way towards herself and Dren, eyes widening. She could barely fight off the undead with her daggers, what could she possibly do against a troll? But she couldn't just let her friend fend for himself. He'd already gone out of his way to protect her, and she definitely wouldn't have survived without him after their escape from prison. She watched as the dunmer man rushed into the fight, glaive carving into the one armed troll, but it's wounds were already healing. On the plus side, the beast was no longer paying attention to her, and a quick glance revealed no undead in the area. Quickly, she circled around, daggers in hand.

    Mustering her courage, she sprinted at the trolls broad back, leaping at it with a furious yowl. Her daggers punched into flesh, gaining purchase. She ducked under the wild swing of the trolls' one remaining arm, and began stabbing at anything in range. Neck, shoulders, eyes. One of her stabbing blades must have struck something essential, because the beast let out a rattling death gasp. She leapt free as it fell first to its' knees and then face first into the road. Zarr stood behind it, trying to get her breath back and wrap her mind around the monumentally stupid thing she'd just done.
     
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  19. TheShadedOne

    TheShadedOne The Angry One

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    Kaliir rolled her eyes at the elven mans' comment, cutting down one of the shamblers as she turned back towards the others. "Can't you just say 'thank you', like a normal person?" She grumbled noting the fighting had all but died down. Lorkas had just finished off one of two trolls that had followed the undead out of the swamps. The second was fighting the breton and his khajiit friend. As she watched, occasionally cutting down the odd straggler, the smaller khajiit leapt onto the trolls' back, and killed it in a frenzy of stabs. The troll fell and didn't move again. Kaliir approached carefully, having heard stories of trolls regenerating even the worst wounds.

    "That was well done" she said to her fellow khajiit, though she glanced over at Thoras as she did so. As annoying as the purple-coated elf was, he could fight. "Not everyone thinks to jump a troll from behind." She glanced over, noting a thin stream of blood trickling from the bretons' nose. Deciding not to bring it up, she looked around, wary of another ambush. Perhaps by something worse that trolls, though nothing was coming to mind at the moment. She couldn't hear anything nearby, but she hadn't heard the undead sneaking up on them until they were already under attack. "Keep an eye out" she muttered to Thoras, hoping he'd follow her lead.
     
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  20. Aethalia

    Aethalia Well-Known Member

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    Ysane blinked in surprise as the orc she had just been threatening crashed into the troll, spear leveled. While the soldier was certainly doing his best to maim the creature, but it was just healing too quickly. Ysane readied her blades to render what aid she could, but before she closed in, she noticed a rapidly approaching ball of orange. Remembering the orc had been shouting for the wizards' help only a moment ago, she realized what the ball was. She threw herself backwards, ducking around the tree as the flames struck the troll squarely in the torso. The beast voiced its' displeasure and began to stomp its way through the brackish water towards the wizard.

    The nord commenced a stream of flames that slowly tore away the trolls' flesh. It did manage a single blow against the man, though he through his hands up in a protective gesture, and Ysane thought she saw a shimmer of magic between him and the troll. That was all she managed to watch, as a pair of undead stumbled towards her. Ignoring the throbbing pain in her shoulder, she readied her blades, and pirouetted towards them, one sword high, one low. As she came out of her spin, one zombie collapsed, headless, the other stumbled further as the gaping wound in its' leg made movement difficult. Undeterred, it lunged for her, but the elf was ready, thrusting one finely forged blade into its' gaping maw, punching through the back of its' head.

    She withdrew her blade and wiped it clean on the back of the dead things' tattered tunic. Then she followed the now cooked trolls' path, noticing the orcs' spear had fallen free in the process of the troll being rendered into a charred carcass. Somehow, the weapon had escaped damage, and she scooped it up out of the mud near the road. Looking to the wizard, she nodded once. "Thank you for your assistance" she said softly, turning and striding back to the orc, where she held his spear out to him, shaft first. "I apologize for my reaction", she said, "you had no reason to trust me, but I hope we can work together more closely going forwards."
     
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