IoK Session 22

When you’re in a fight, time slows down.  It’s the old cliché that’s repeated by every warrior.  They could see the arrow in flight.  Every swing of the blade as it passed through the shower of sweat and blood.  Every heartbeat, including their opponent’s final one.  This is all bunk.  Time doesn’t slow down, it vanishes into a chaotic flurry of instinct and panic.

Orgren let loose a primal sound and charged the first golyn to enter the gray circle.  Muscled flexed and the pick axe struck true, ripping through the boiled leather and rubbery hide.  The slick sound from the pick’s withdraw was near as disgusting as the mess left by the creature as it fell.  For a miner, Orgren was a terrifyingly lethal opponent.

Hardel was less.  Age had traded his strength and speed for wisdom.  This did him little good in a physical struggle for survival.  The creature that had rushed him was half his size, but it was composed of nothing but sinew, teeth, and hate.  He had only enough time to raise the weapon before it was upon him, dodging beneath the haft and stabbing its spear into his midsection.  The broadhead cut through his tunic, but not much deeper.  A scratch, deep but clean and nothing he wasn’t used to.  He finished his swing but the golyn had already scurried clear of the downstroke.  Hardel spun on his heels and braced himself for another round.

‘Rush them… now.  These two won’t hold them off alone.”

The words from Veldamere were hushed, but the intent was clear.  Landralsine had been waiting for them.  Dropping his bow, he charged into the clearing.  Arrows would do him little good in this darkness.

The first golyn he encountered was caught unaware, which was the intention.  With a fluid stroke, he drew a thin tapered blade from his bracer and plunged it deep within the creature.  The strike was clean with little of the toxic mess remaining on the blade.  The deltan then sprung back to the trees and listened… without surprise to offer advantage, he was now dependent upon his companions to make the next move.

Regnit would not disappoint.  The sky erupted in a flash of daylight and blinding fire.  Less heat than flash, the elemental magicks  lingered in the air leaving an odor of reminiscent of cinnamon and hot copper… the signature of the dwarf’s training with the Rikians.  As the glare faded, Landralsine opened his eyes to see flickering white flares descending from the night sky, providing enough light to finally assess the full conflict.

As Landralsine repositioned, Veldamere cracked the silence of the night with sulfur and fire.  His rifle round ripped through branch and golyn flesh alike, spinning the surprised leechling round and dropping him. 

“In the clearing… move to me!”

Veldamere motioned to the misplaced miners while drawing another round from his vest.  He needed to get these two out of the way before Regnit got excited.  There had been ‘miscalculations’ in the past which he would prefer not see again.

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Hardel heard the strangers shouting, and searched through still blinded eyes for who was calling for them.  Two of the biters had been dropped within that same flash of light, and he believed only two remained.  One of them much larger than the others.

“Orgren, follow my voice.  The golyn are much blinder than we are right now.  No need to stay exposed.”

The big dwarf had looked straight into the light and now held his eyes.  Having dropped his pick axe in surprise, he was nothing more than a sinewy target should the biters recover first.

Hardel rushed ahead, continuing to call to Orgren who stumbled after.  For now, it didn’t matter who the others were.  That rifle shot could have ended him as easy as the leechling, meaning they didn’t want them dead.  This was enough reassurance as they would get for now.

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It was always difficult to run through these caves.  The humidity… everything was damp and covered with a thin sheen of fungus.  It was the boots that were ill suited for the task, but armor was beneficial at times like these.  The boiled leather flexed, but didn’t allow for his toes to grasp the rocks as he preferred.

As he maneuvered the tunnels, he thought of what went wrong.  Had they gotten sloppy?  No… she had pulled too many of them away from this entrance.  Hiding beneath the natural waterways was clever, but they had a Srylian… water doesn’t discourage them.  Now he was the only one left… what would he say to her when she heard?

There was no time to move the brood, and he decided that moving her pet would be equally difficult.  The damn thing had never liked him, and he wasn’t prepared to handle it anyways.  Maybe for the best, he needed to get to the gate and prepare himself.  Delivering the news of losing one of the Vernish Apprentice bands would be… unpleasant.  Still, he was the only one left.

He picked up his pace.