[center][h3]The Unfamiliar Territory of Tactics[/h3][sub]...and How the Company Faked the Appearance of Competence
ft. [@gcold][@Frizan][@Hank][/sub][hr][b]21 Last Seed, 7:30 PM[/b][hr][/center]

“I’ll take point!” Mary said to her comrades. She reached for her sword and hesitated, and instead drew her silver dagger. Though the darkness impaired her vision, her eyes flashed with bioluminescence with the casting of a spell and were fixed on Ander’s aura, who quite literally fell into the lion’s den (or werecrocodile’s den in this case) and was now wounded beneath a pile of rubble. There was nothing she could think of that could get her to his side without having to get past the beast first. She looked around her, briefly assessing her allies -- Narzul and Piper were both heavily armored and held shields in their hands. “Narzul and Piper on my flank, we’ll circle around it. Archers and mages can provide long range support. Once we’re in position, cover me so I can give aid to Ander!”

Mary was used to working on her own, having to rely only on her own wits and resources. It didn’t feel natural to her to be belting out orders, but she also made a career out of monster hunting, so dealing with were-creatures and the like was where she shined — and speaking of shining, this werecroc likely didn’t have the issue of the twilit sewers impairing its vision. That must mean it might be more sensitive to light.

She moved on ahead, leaping from the ledge and leading the way for the others to follow behind, holding her enchanted silver dagger in a reverse grip in one hand and her shield in the other. Briefly arming her shield arm with the dagger, she focused her magicka in her free hands, fist clenched. Beams of light squeezed their way past the cracks and crevices between her fingers.

“Hey, stinky!” She shouted at the beast from behind.

The moment the creature turned, it was met with a bright flash of light bursting from Mary’s palm. Immediately, the werecroc fell to its knees, hissing and roaring as it held its palms against its eyes, trying to shake away the blinding colors floating in darkness behind its eyelids.

“Now!” She yelled, moving around the creature’s flank and positioning herself between it and Ander. “Circle around!”

“Forward!” Piper shouted. With moderate difficulty, the Imperial was able to push through the near calf-high waters and bring herself to the beast’s side. Even though it impaired her movement, she was glad to be back in her full armor. Even with the pieces she was able to smuggle in, Piper had still felt a little naked during the Evermore banquet.

Teardrop shield held at the ready in front of her, Piper uncoiled her sword arm into a heavy stab at the werecrocodile’s ribs. She could see the tip of the blade disappear into the beast’s flesh, but an incredible resistance prevented her from digging deeper; their hide was tougher than she thought. The beast roared in fury as Piper pulled her blade back to her side. Dark, viscous blood mixed with a nauseating slime coated the tip. She had heard of adventurers and crypt-delvers that stuffed their helmets and masks with fragrant flowers or herbs to hold back the various stenches that wafted through their chosen hunting grounds. Perhaps she should try that at some point.

Up above, in the darkness where not even Piper could spy him, Sagax had hidden himself in the strange vines that covered the walls and ceiling of the cistern. He had shadowed Mary, following her step for step until just before she drew the monster’s anger. He had tested the vines and began climbing.

Sagax was surprised at how sturdy the vines were. They were as almost thick as coils of rope found aboard a merchant ship, and they held his weight easily. Moving among them was simple, having left his bag and dress coat behind in the main tunnel, Sagax had great freedom of movement in his leather armor. He gripped his Dwarven dagger tightly, balancing on two vines using the arches of his boots to secure himself. 

He blanched slightly as Mary casted her spell; even from his height, the light still burned into his pupils, momentarily casting dark shapes in his vision. He blinked twice in an effort to readjust. The werecrocodile recoiled at the blinding light that erupted from Mary’s hand, and he could see his sister and Narzul approaching. All the rogue had to do now was wait for everyone to get into position.

Narzul moved in, his shield and sword up, and formed the final piece of the three pronged wall to contain the beast. Mary remained ever mindful of the man buried beneath the rubble behind her. Perhaps too mindful. Her eyes darted between the beast and an inch or so over her shoulder, and was nearly caught off guard by the sweeping of the werecroc’s tail as it turned angrily toward Piper. Mary batted it away with her shield, though the creature didn’t seem to notice the impact, nor the fact it nearly made collateral damage to the young Templar.

Two furious slashes with its claws grinded against Piper’s shield, its sheer force battering her arm behind her defense, and Narzul retaliated with two swipes of his own at the creature’s flank, distracting the monster from its onslaught on the Imperial. Behind the impenetrable visage of his steel helmet, his face was severe and his teeth were gritted. The werecrocodile was a formidable beast and Narzul decided to forego war cries and other frivolities in the face of such a beast. He just hoped his allies were up to the task. His ebony blade was heavier and sharper than ordinary steel and the two wounds he inflicted were significant -- but not anywhere close to fatal. The gleam of Mary’s enchanted dagger caught his eye. Magic would definitely help. He thought about calling out for Niernen’s aid, but the thought of being trapped in the cistern with a roaring firestorm made him change his mind.

For the most part, this strategy was working, but only for as long as their stamina could hold out or until the others finally commenced their ranged assault. The creature swung wildly at Narzul, but Mary caught its flailing tail with the tip of her silver dagger, causing it to recoil and bellow in pain -- a stark contrast to the nuisances it seemed to regard the other weaponry as. Its blood appeared to boil on the blade. From the corner of her eye, she barely caught Sagax, creeping around and looking for an opportunity. Silently, she waved him over.

From a safe distance, Niernen watched the fight with her fists balled and clasped to her mouth. She was afraid, just as Narzul was, that using her fire magic in the confined space would accidentally cause more harm than good -- but she was sad and frustrated that she could not help, and worried for their safety. “Careful, Narzul!” she shrieked when Mary’s dagger spared her brother from one of the werecroc’s vicious strikes and stamped her feet in the grimy water. “Oh, sod this,” she spat and closed her eyes. “Azura, lady of twilight, please protect my brother and our friends…” began her prayer. What else could she do? 

While Niernen hoped for divine (or daedric, rather) intervention, Sagax tried something a bit more immediate. The beast was now directly under him, pinned into position by Narzul, Piper and Mary. The latter gave him his cue to strike.

Holding his dagger tightly in an underhand grip with both hands, Sagax let himself fall through the vines he had been watching the battle from. He hit his mark with acceptable precision, the blade all but disappearing into the werecrocodile’s neck. Sagax quietly thanked the Dwemer for their exceptional craftsmanship. And gravity, of course, for without which he would not have had the momentum necessary to actually plunge the dagger any deeper than the tip. His new ally would quickly betray him however.

The monster snapped its torso backwards and let loose a roar that shook dust from the ceiling and a few unlucky spiders from their carefully-weaved webs. In its panicked state, the werecrocodile twisted violently from side to side, desperately lunging its hands at its newfound foe. Eventually the beast succeeded, grabbing the rogue by the arm and tossing him away. Sagax flew several feet before colliding with one of the cistern’s pillars and falling into a pool of dirty water with a splash. 

Seeing Sagax fall limply was more than enough to spark Piper’s eternal ire. She was something beyond furious, and the next thing she felt herself do was grip her longsword’s handle like a vice. The Imperial screamed with rage and thrust her blade at the beast once more, which was showing signs of faltering. She used every ounce of strength she had in her legs and arms to put as much force into her attack as humanly possible. 

Grabbing ahold of the opportunity, Mary and Narzul began their own barrage of attacks, both letting forth their own war cries. Though theirs were much less girlishly high-pitched, it had to be said.

After the trio’s exhausting onslaught, the werecrocodile, now bleeding profusely all over its scaley hide, swayed and ultimately crashed to the ground. A small tremor emanated from the point of impact. The beast was able to get a few more swipes at its attackers with tail and claw, but it was not enough to halt its demise. The company was weary, but victory was theirs.

After giving themselves a moment to breath and make sure the beast was truly dead, a period of time in which Sagax carried himself out of the sewage with his sister’s help, Mary ran towards the rubble under which Ander was buried. After shoving some of the rocks aside, a gasp pierced through the aching moaning and groaning of her allies as she cried out, “He’s alive!”