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30 Nov 2016 9:50
In spite of man's proud domination of nature, they are still her victims, for they have not even learned to control their own nature.


The Harbinger of Ferocity

Agent of the Wild, Aspect of the Ferine
Nature, red in tooth and claw.

"There is, indeed, no single quality of the cat that man could not emulate to his advantage."
- Carl Van Vechten

I am, at my core, a personification and manifestation of those characters whose blood and hearts run red with the ferocity of the animal world. It is that which convicts and controls my works - my writing; the force and guidance in which I gain creativity from. It is what inspires me as a creator and weaver of words, the very thing I admire as an author.

My leanings, savage as they are, are of the feline sort and there exists no greater lineage of beasts whom I draw from. No others captivate and motivate my talent as the greatest of cats do.

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All seemed settled or as much as it could pass for in this period of urgency.

The ambushers would strike together, allowing the mage's spell first to do the greatest of work it could and render the distracted enemy ever more useless. It was in Brannor's mind that once the throng of foes to the outskirts were away enough, they would surprise the attackers with no mercy or quarter given; not a single one of them the man intended to take alive. They had wasted enough time already attempting to do so before and the very least these fiends and their servants deserved with a bloody death. This aside, they were to rescue those trapped within... and escort them back. Needless details like capturing the enemy alive were not to be considered, regardless of what had been asked of him and the others here.

It was then he watched closely the gestures of Mr. Lake to come, all before drawing back the string of his bow with easy force, making the gesture almost casual. Again, his attention returned to the front and he set his sights on the enemy. Peering at them with a vengeful seething, he adjusted his aim and tracked them as they stoked their flames.

The thrill and the anticipation of the hunt, how it welled within him again.

It called and beckoned to the animal within his heart, urging him to just let loose. For a moment the arrow teetered upon the string, the bowman behind it resisting the urge to take a shot of opportunity. Not yet could he, not until the mage did his work and the halfling her own. After the shot however, would he close the gap and cut them down in a fitting end.

"Whenever... our time is short to attack." He growled and adjusted his readied shot.

That moment of hesitation to plan threw his aim, as his instinct superseded his intellect. After all, he was a man that fought by wild emotion and feeling. Ignoring the impulse, the drive, clouded his mind rather than brought clarity to it. Among other things, it made working with thoughtful folk problematic, in addition to all the other troubles faced. Granted it was a more intellectual approach, the spell would unquestionably give them more an advantage, but then again it was not inherent to Brannor. The idea, the whole thing as it was, was as foreign as it could be in thought.

@Hekazu@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher@Gordian Nought@Norschtalen
I will reply when my internet returns to service, as I have a post saved there. More or less just awaiting Mr. Lake casting his spell, firing an arrow and hopefully us managing a surprise round.
I can only hope your group has plenty of character sheets, @Hekazu. Best of luck on that endeavor.
The man observed first, taking time to settle into his decision to come, long before even issuing a response to their mage company. Not that the other man was not deserving an answer, but because the hunter had no real insight as to the best way to take the temple. By force was not a means to an end here, something which he grew tired of. This slinking and hiding to scratch meager victories or turn aside the enemy's offense... despicable. But there did seem to be some sort of vulnerability, that the fewest foes positioned themselves by the fire they struggled to light; less it appeared there than anywhere else and their attention seemed to be elsewhere. If there was going to be a place to attack, that would be it.

It was the closest, easiest approach and confronted the fewest foes. But was it the right one? The obvious answer was not always the correct one, this much even an uneducated man like Brannor knew through experience. It was then he looked back to their newest addition, that of Lake. The golden eyes, even under the hood that helped obscure his face, were not hidden in their expression as they narrowed in thought. Rather more, withheld reply, but soon the wordless message would be clear.

The priestess was the one to know this place better, if they were going to rush in as saviors of its people.

"The weakest of their lot gather near the fire. Those are the ones we could overwhelm... the others perhaps too numerous. Is that our best means to enter the temple, or is there another?"

Sincerely did Brannor doubt there to be some hidden shelter beneath the place of worship or an escape tunnel, but it was worthy to ask the one person who knew this place what they were to do. Otherwise, their options seemed ever so slim. Unless the elder's raven knew more and the old robed man had not yet voiced his observations, there did not appear to be any other route to success. There were some... finer points that Brannor could address, but now was not the time to play with what little advantage there was left. If the doors keeping the enemy at bay did fall, as they would here soon, the entire endeavor would be a bloodbath for all involved; not because Brannor thought these monsters to be cold killers, thus far seeming to take those alive if possible, but because there'd be no other option but to fight and kill everything or die trying.

"Either way, we need move soon before someone discovers us." The hunter spoke quietly in his deep, rough tone, keeping low throughout their brief exchange.

@Hekazu@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher@Gordian Nought@Norschtalen
The hunter was not fond of the open and moving through it, the none too distant treeline was his goal after all. They needed to move the precession along beside the thicket where then their silhouettes in the darkness, from an insider looking out, would melt away into the indistinct shadows, effectively vanishing. Even if the enemy had noticed this approach, they'd either have to come looking or wait out the inevitable advance. Perhaps the faint haze of smoke and what surely was distracting embers within the city could only hopefully add to the effect, but there was no way of knowing. Brannor was not displeased with what approach they did have at least, only a short venture through what seemed like the river's depression, then back into the welcoming wood.

More south he watched than anything else, looking into the dark where small dwellings laid none too far beyond. The most likely avenue the raiders would approach from at this moment, enough to keep an arrow knocked upon the string and his bow at rest in his arms. If they were to be so attacked, his first instinct was to step into the wood and fight from tree to tree until the gap was closed. If they were to do the attacking, he prayed they could surprise their enemy. The bow wasn't his preferred weapon, more a tool to him that a thing to live and die by, but just as it did well to hunt unaware prey it did well to fell unaware foes.

Drinking the night air in a breath, here he could smell again and listen in to the most subtle of details; no more dust, decay or debris to foul the air. Only smoke tainted an otherwise calm night's atmosphere, just as ominous as it should be...

@Hekazu@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher@Gordian Nought@Norschtalen
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