Dungeon Diving ho!~ [@Crusader Lord][@Crimson Paladin][@Click This] [hr] “Weh! Leannah! At least feed me first before getting rough-!” Throwing the native girl seemed to have at least the desired effect. With the sun in the sky, sunlight flowing through her veins Leannah launched her hands forward. Her hand wrapped around the leg of one of the birds, the creature squawking and clawing at its captor. Its beak and the claws upon its wings cut into her flesh, deep wounds from sharp claws drawing blood from the martial artists body. And as she swung, within her soul she prayed. Prayed to a Goddess she didn’t know. A goddess that she knew nothing about. If you had asked any other Bastelian, she was lucky simply to not have been immolated on the spot. Time seemed to slow. Her body began to heat, almost as if she was burning alive from within. The sun above seemed to shimmer. Briefly, Leannah would find her vision filled with something else other than the forest around her. [hider=For Leannah] Before her, a vast desert. Not of snow and ice, but sand and heat. Sand filled every breath she took. Her throat hurt with thirst. How had she gotten here? She had just been in a forest, but now she was alone in a vast, seemingly endless sea of sand - at least, alone until the Sun itself seemed to speak. [color=fff79a]“...not only are you a thief, you arrogantly ask for my aid.”[/color] A loud, disapproving voice. A wave of heat slammed into Leannah, singing her clothes and hair. [color=fff79a]“And you choose to ask for aid against such unimpressive foes? If you need help against such pathetically weak creatures, you are unfit for those ears and tails you wear. I should smite you where you stand, mortal and, throw your soul into the sun to burn!”[/color] There was a loud, raucous laugh. [color=fff79a]“VERY WELL! Burn, then otherworlder! Bright enough to eclipse even the capricious moon!”[/color] At least it seemed like she wasn’t about to have an entire sun drop on her. [color=fff79a]“...but granting power without first attaining it oneself would be foolish. If you truly wish to earn my boons, gifts, and favor, then kill an Elder Beast! Kill it in my name in glorious combat! Offer it up to the sun and prove you are worthy of the name Bastelian and as one of my chosen! Ahahah! Don’t look so surprised! You must also atone for your theft! Regardless whether the stolen power was thrust upon you against your will or not, the burden of sin falls to you unless you wish to give it up. I will reward you depending on the prey you hunt! Now...I will be watching your progress. Do not falter. Head and eyes forward as you hunt. If you die, I will at least spare your soul from burning eternally!”[/color] A laugh, followed by a self-satisfied seeming chuckle. [color=fff79a]“Huhu, I think that went well. Do you think I was too overbearing-”[/color] A pause followed by nervous laughter. [color=fff79a]“...o-oh I forgot to-Uh-ahem! Mortal! Next time, try praying before or after engaging the enemy!”[/color] [/hider] Reality began moving again. The sudden whiplash of the all to real vision caused her to stumble lightly as the feathered creature in her grip was swung, slamming into one of the other nearby birds. The one that was it, was knocked clean out of the area and into the fog, the other managed to pull itself from her grasp, but dazed from the impact as it scrambled to get to its feet. Several feathers from the creature was ejected into the air, broken free by Leannah’s grip. Yet, oddly, among them...a single, bright yellow colored feather that seemed to shimmer, giving off a soft yellow glow and oddly warm to the touch. Lazhira stumbled to the ground some distance behind the group. Novak was swift to react next. Following the movements he had observed earlier, his blade cleanly thrust forwards. The blade met the creature's side, skewering it upon the blade. It thrashed, trying to remove itself from the blade. Narkissa, thankfully, could evade the one going for her with the other three being fairly easily taken care of. She evaded just in time, the claws of the bird barely missing her face as the blade was swung, a rather deep cut being slashed into its abdomen and sending it careening to the floor. “Oof...” Lazhira got back to her feet after being roughly cat-handled. “Ugh, these things are always a nuisance. Their eggs and meat go great with fruit though.” There were two birds left. The one that had been ejected into the fog didn’t seem to be returning. Both, however, seemed to decide they were in over their heads that their little ambush had been soundly defeated, and made a move to flee the group. Seemed at least they knew when to scatter in front of a bigger threat. “You guys are pretty good. Thanks for the save there, Leannah.” Lazhira giggled in thanks. Perhaps she could defend herself in some manner. She had made no secret of walking around the forest by herself...and if predators were common here, then how did she deal with it if they bothered her? “Anyways! The temple isn’t much further! Probably. We're still on the right track, i think, heheh!” Lazhira would quickly start walking again, and true to her word they soon stumbled upon the front of the temple. An impressive piece of stonework. The exterior was covered with vines, plants and greenery quickly reclaiming the likely ancient building for nature. It was difficult to make anything out, but oddly there seemed symbols similar to the tattoo on Lazhira's arm upon the door and exterior in some places. The interior was similarly defunct. Snow covered the ground, obscuring much of the stone floor, that seemed to have a few stone carvings in it. A number of massive stone pillars upheld the ceiling, what were once braziers of some sort carved into them for lighting. One seemed to have been broken at some point, however. Against the walls were some shelves, littered with fragmentary remains of the people who once lived and worshiped here. Frayed, old ropes faceless masks and old robes, it seemed frozen where they lay. A number of other artifacts lay scattered around the place. Old stone tablets with unintelligible writing, books filled with similar writing. The walls too, were full if iconography of varying degrees. On the left, seemed to show people flocking to what was an old man with a cane. An orb of light in hand as he gave it to them. The right wall, instead showed what seemed to be a cloaked, old woman with a macabre grin offering something else. Both processions of people however, were expertly worked into what seemed to be the centerpiece of the temple. A large, stone idol that ran from the floor to the ceiling. It was simple in scope, but impressive nonetheless. It was vaguely human in shape, with an extremely top heavy design. Towards the floor it was tapered, likely mimicking feet, before it slowly growing in size as it went upwards, abruptly ending with its 'shoulders'. Upon it rested a single, smooth stone in the center, with two curved horns extending from its side. In the wall above, was a small indentation of a white stone. Oddly, the stone was impossibly smooth to the touch. Almost a glassy, surface that seemed like it should have been impossible to make. As they entered, a slight sense of awe would wash over them. As though this was some place where not many would come. [hr] The Roma Mob [@ERode][@Pyromania99] [hr] The girl’s eyes shifted between the human and the elf before her. Initially, her grip on the dagger tightened, taking another unsteady step away from them. It very well seemed like she was about to just make a run for it, but by the time she seemed to have made a decision her legs failed her. The elf hit the ground, falling to her knees and dropping the knife onto the ground. “...not any more...” The small elf held her arm with her good hand, a few tears starting to form as she began to speak with an unsteady voice. “T-the Apostles...we were heading to Gloomhollow...” As far as Augusta could tell, she wasn’t lying, though she obviously would have no idea what Gloomhollow was or where it even was. Isidore though, would likely be initially relieved to at least find nothing out of the ordinary among the ridges leading up the mountain. At the dropping of the knife, Isidore placed his hand on Augusta’s back, pushing her forward further. He remained where he was, however, just outside the radius of the crackling fire’s heat. [b]“Is Gloomhollow a safe place for you?”[/b] he asked, maintaining his body’s furnace-like heat as the storm continued to beat down. Augusta noted the assistance Isidore gave her and ever so slightly rolled her eyes. She thought the best course was to let Isidore ask questions for now while she tended to the girl's injuries. Gently she moved, walking to the girl before lowering herself to her level and moving the knife aside. The elven woman looked over the girl taking note of her wrist and ribcage. She made an assumption her uninjured, or mostly so, wrist was the one who's hand could move enough to grab her arm. She took her healing fire and held it to the wrist. If anything was healed easier, it'd hopefully be the wrist. "Perhaps you would grace us with your name, as well." With her power, she of course knew the girls name, but didn't want to surprise her with knowledge she shouldn't have otherwise. “L-Leuca...” The girl replied, wincing lightly as Augusta approached, though didn't object to letting her do what she needed. “Its...erm, the home of the Shadow Elves. Gloomhollow, that is...” She continued, replying to Isidore. “But w-we lost our guide. The only other one who knew the way was big sis Sorcha, but...” She cast her gaze towards the ground. “She led the Apostles further up the mountain...” As Augusta applied her cleansing flame to Leuca, the small elf watched with muted excitement. Considering what she had likely been through, she probably wasn't feeling very hopeful or excited. Still, as she worked the fractured wrist seemed to mend just fine, though it still seemed to be slightly swollen. “...U-uhm...so what's...your name? I didn't think there were any more of us...outside of Talamn...” Augusta would not get long to answer. Isidore's watchful eyes would catch a flash of color, something moving just a bit on a ridge just a few yards away up the mountain. Definitely not an animal, and there seemed to be more than one. [b]“Call me Isidore,”[/b] he spoke, drawing his sword out of the ground. Keeping his distance from the young elf, he approached one of the dead men and wrested the shield from his grasp. He slid it over to his companion, then appropriated a dagger from the man’s belt as well. [b]“Augusta, we’ve company. Up the ridge.”[/b] These ‘apostles’ that Leuca knew had headed up the mountains, but the deer had spoke of other races as well. ‘Those of Shadow’ must’ve referred to the Shadow Elves that the child identified with. Were these the ‘Mountain Folk’ then? Augusta kept her attention focused on Leuca and kept healing her injuries. She noted the warning and shield that was slid to her. She peaked up to see if she could make a note of anyone or anything with her ability. "Octavia, can you help keep an eye out?" [b]“Leuca,”[/b] Isidore said, as he pulled the cloak off the corpse and tossed it in her direction. [b]“Are ‘mountain folk’ your enemy?”[/b] "And how is your hand? Better?" The elven woman mention, being careful when touching the wounded girl. “Y-yes, thank you.” Leuca replied, flexing her hand. “...a-are you a druid, lady?” She asked, frowning lightly as she glanced over to Isidore. “W-wah? N-no, they're our allies! O-or should be...! We can't even get to Gloomhollow without their help...” Despite what Leuca had replied, those moving on the ridge above soon realized they had been seen. “Stone it all, we've been seen! Get the girl and leave the wench and that flat ear for the wolves!” They'd quickly reveal themselves. Three short humanoids wearing what seemed to be heavy, if somewhat primitive looking metal plates of armor covering their entire body. Augusta's eye would quickly reveal these Mountain Folk were [i]not[/i] to be taken lightly if scanning a single one was anything to go by. [Hider=Goddess Note] Name: Anundur Longarm Race: Dwarf (Dirithen) Physical Attributes: Stronger than you Magic Attributes: Weaker than you Weakness: Those of the Mountain Folk, known as Dwarves or Dirithen, possess no glaring weaknesses aside from what typically ail the mortal flesh. Abilities: Martial Mastery (Novice) – Denoting one who has trained with the blade and other weapons. Signifies ones experience with fighting and training. Dwarven Constitution - Blessed of Ancient Stone and wisdom, those of the dwarves boast extreme natural physical strength and stamina that completely dwarfs those of other races. Special attributes: [/hider] It could be assumed all were of similar skill level and ability. Two of the mountain folk were wielding large two handed axes, the third possessed a large shield and a simple, but rather humorously large for their size blade. They didn't give Isidore and Augusta much time to prepare for a defense, quickly descending towards the group. “W-wait! I'm Leuca of the Sirithen! You should have been-!” The girls cries fell on deaf ears. Assuming that Isidore was the most dangerous looking one of the group, the two with the axes rushed towards him, one coming in swinging with a heavy overhead cleave with their axe. Even with Isidore's ability, that seemed like a dangerous blow to take the full brunt of. The second quickly followed up with a thrust with the blunt head of his axe to Isidore's torso. The third, was hanging back slightly, shield In hand and slowly circling the fight towards Augusta and Leuca. Octavia had situated herself near the fire,growling and barking aggressively towards the Dwarves. Compact, armored, and intelligent. Damn. Without hesitation, Isidore drew his arming sword against his left arm, brow furrowing from the searing pain that dulled moments later. Black, crystalline material spread from the wound, coating the rest of his body in its entirety, but the material itself was still flaky. If he wished for armor strong enough to ward off the axes of these creatures, he’d have to take another couple hits, at the very least. Or he could just evade instead. Short, and muscular, with polearms to make up for their lack of physical range. A lower center of gravity, making them more suitable for combat on sloped hills. Armor, though primitive, allowed them to attack fearlessly. As two rushed for him, Isidore backstepped to the steeper portions of the mountainside as he continued to build up heat in his stomach. The cleaving blow smashed into stone, and Isidore slammed the pommel of his dagger into the flat of the thrusting polearm, deflecting it sideways. Maintaining his distance, maintaining the circulation of his magic, he positioned his arming sword on his shoulder and brought his dagger in front of him defensively. [b]“We’re allies of that shadow elf there. Are they your enemy now?”[/b] “Alliances don't matter out here human.” The dwarf harshly replied, bringing his axe back to a resting position after having missed. “How about you hand over that thing instead and we won't turn ye your friend there into wolf food. Lord Firebeard might even pay ye for handing her over.” The second one made a flourish with their weapon, somewhat overly eager to fight. “...U-uhm...I'm not...a Shadow Elf...I'm a Sirithen. Like the lady here...” Leuca moved closer to Augusta, shivering slightly, but not from the cold. “We were traveling to Gloomhollow...I was supposed to be tutored by their Queen...” “Ahh, yes, the bartering for children. Sounds like a wonderful life you Dirithen live.” Augusta mentioned as she grabbed the shield Isidore rolled over to her and readied it on her arm. Her eye started to glow as she went to read the status of the other two dwarves while still applying some of her healing magic to Leuca’s rib cage. Mostly, just to catch their names. While most of the information she gleamed was basically the same, the names were, obviously, different. Bera Stonefist, Fasti Axebreaker and Anunder Longarm. Things she’d keep in mind. The woman made sure to pull the small elf girl closer and held her shield up, keeping an eye on the blade of the dwarf in front of her. Worst case, she was ready change from healing Leuca to firing a bolt of fire at the dwarf. She wasn’t sure how effective it would be, but she needed to defend herself if it came to it. Isidore looked at the short man, at his overeager companion, and then finally towards the ‘Sirithen’. The dark-haired ‘human’ was quiet for a moment. In the next, he stuck his sword into the slushy ground, then beamed a bright, placating smile towards Augusta and addressed the short men before him. [b]“Now now,”[/b] Isidore said. [b]“I’m not [i]that[/i] attached, and we should always keep our options open. What sort of payment would you be offering though, friend?”[/b] “H-huh!?” Leuca's eyes widened at Isidore's words. “Y-you wouldn't! P-please If its money u-uncle can pay you more!” The girl took a few steps away from Augusta, holding her hands to her chest, clasped together, eyes constantly switching between the dwarfs, Augusta, and Isidore. “Ah, a reasonable human.” The one who spoke before replied with a laugh. The one with the shield stopped moving, but had positioned himself some a bit too close to Augusta for comfort, though Octavia had positioned herself between them. “Lord Firebeard wants that elf, and is even pulling a few strings to make sure it happens. Strings that could get him into a lot of trouble for pulling.” Leuca had slowly inched over to where her dagger had fallen earlier as the dwarf spoke. “For the ensuring the safety of the elf...no less than thirty gold pieces.” The dwarf took a few steps closer, lowering his weapon. “And he might be interested, in further cooperation from a human supposing you'd be interested. Are you interested, friend?” Augusta noted the look Isidore gave her. That seems an unnatural look on the man. Hmm. A ruse? She hoped so, since the words that he spoke were… Definitely not the words she’d say. “Isidore!? How dare you!” That seemed convincing, right? She took a step back from the dwarf that was much too close. “What does your ‘Lord’ even want with her!?” She exclaimed, shooting a glare at all those involved. She let Leuca go and stopped channeling her healing spell. She was ready to quick cast magic if necessary. “That certainly sounds tempting,” Isidore replied, sucking in a breath. Thirty gold...even disregarding the meager size of the coinage, that was a hefty price to pay in the world he came from. He had done worse work for less, back in his youth. But that was then. And now? Isidore didn’t need money. Still posturing contemplation, Isidore reached into the depths of his stomach, where he had been gathering and circulating energy the entire time, and pushed it all out at once, feeding it with the lungful of air he had just sucked it. Last night had been an accident, but accidents that could be reproduced were just new techniques. A burst of flame shot out from his mouth, hopefully potent enough to blind the two mountain men in front of him, and he dashed off to the side opposite of the first’s halberd, aiming to drive his dagger into the back of their knee before pushing them down the slushy slope that Isidore’s internal heat had generated. “None of your business, elf. We don't ask-” He was cut off before he could finish that sentence. A flash of heat from Isidore's mouth, from the forge of his stomach billowed forth. “Sage's blood! You back-stabbing-gha!” The dwarf flailed, swinging his poleaxe wide, but Isidore had the advantage. His dagger found its target, the dwarf crying out in pain as his footing was lost. He slid. Right down the slope, rolling like a snowball. It didn't take long for the second dwarf to realize what was happening. Just as Isidore finished, he'd find himself on the receiving end of the others axe. Bone crunched, blood flowed from the wound on his shoulder, the dwarf trying to cleave him in two. Yet, what the dwarf wasn't prepared for, was for it not to work. Isidore's armor held despite the deep wound. He'd only have a handful of seconds before the surprised dwarf retaliated again. The one nearest Augusta charged towards the elf, blade striking forward to draw blood. Octavia had...ran off somewhere? Augusta was pretty sure she'd have seen her chasing a dwarf rolling down the mountain. Augusta smirked as she saw Isidore trick the dwarf as she had expected. And she knew, this would cause these dwarves to turn hostile. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure if Octavia chasing the dwarf falling down the hill was good or bad, but she didn’t have much a chance to yell at the hound. The dwarf in front of her was attacking. Luckily, she had a shield in hand. She reached out with the shield to throw aside the sword and hopefully throw the dwarf off balance. Then, she aimed and fired a bolt of fire at his face, hopefully blinding him. She was ready for that to fail however and try to receive another attack, whether shield bash or weapon attack. His armor held, even as his bones cracked from the force of the strike, and instantly, it hardened further, more of the black crystal growing out. Isidore's vision blurred from the sudden jolt of adrenaline through his body, the pain that shook down one side of his body enough to drive him to his knee. Without Augusta's healing, without his armor, he'd be dead. But his wagers were founded on all available resources, and in close combat, a dagger was many times faster than a halberd. The crook of the elbow, the armpit, the space below the jaw. Frenzied by impending death, Isidore stabbed the armored warrior thrice before kicking himself away, rolling down the slope and getting some distance to regain his composure. As Augusta expected, deflecting the sword of a seasoned warrior wasn't the easiest of feats. The sword slammed into her own shield, force enough causing her own arm to strain against the blow. The following fireball had about as much of an effect as she hoped. The dwarf grunted from the impact, the heated metal of his helmet sizzling slightly, but ultimately was not too injured. With a mighty yell, the dwarf brought the sword back down towards Augusta, seemingly intent on just brute forcing his way past her defenses. Isidore's opponent sputtered, unable to react fast enough to Isidore's assault. Blood flowed from the wounds, the dagger having found their targets. The dwarf stumbled as Isidore pushed himself away, grunting as he realized he had been injured. Isidore had succeeded in putting some distance between them, having slid down the slope a bit further than he intended. It ikely wasn't to last long, however. His opponent was already hefting his axe in his good hand. Realizing that he couldn't just cleave this seemingly unarmored opponent in two, he took a slightly more cautious approach. Leuca, meanwhile had retrieved her dagger, and was worriedly watching the fight play out. Augusta, taking note of how little her bolt did, decided she needed to make a new plan. She took a step to the side, since Leuca seemed to have moved away a small bit, pivoted her torso and lifted her shield to let the blade slide off into the open air. As the weapon met with her shield, she lifted her free hand, aimed at the dwarf’s face and fired a continuous stream of flame akin to a slightly downsized flamethrower from earth. If a bolt of fire had little effect on him, perhaps she needed to up the firepower a bit. If he recoiled any, she would aim with her other hand towards the lower part of his body. Perhaps she just needed to roast him alive. Despite what she had imagined about dwarves, they have no resistance nor heat so fire should do just fine. Isidore stood up straight as well, the snow continuing to fall around him. Three blows, and it didn’t seem as if the mountain man was going to bleed out any time soon. Resilient, but that could be accounted for. The world was muted, the gouts of flame from Augusta’s position seeming so distant. He pressed the dagger against the bloody gash on his shoulder, then flexed his arm. Good. If it was for simple motions alone, he could still force it. From the slurry of mud and slush, the dark-haired youth retrieved his sword, held his dagger in his injured arm, and breathed in. He had demonstrated strength. Axes, regardless of individual strength, were top-heavy weapons. With only one arm, the shoulder would be used as leverage to launch it out. Diagonal attack then, coming from the outside. Could not discount the ability to use the other arm, but it was weak, and the man didn’t have another visible weapon, not one that could deal as much damage as a two-handed chop. Sword will block from the shaft. Lock weapons. Step off to the right, away from a potential kick. Leverage length of legs to push the axe up. Dagger will slip into the armpit. This time, ignite and burn out his heart. Isidore breathed out, bent his legs, and charged. The dwarf, unfortunately, was far stronger than Augusta was. His sword met her shield, unable to deflect the blow of someone who simply was just much stronger than she was. A crack of noise as Augusta felt pain radiate from her wrist and into the rest of her arm. Had something broken? Or just bruised? Either way, she did at least manage to get off that flamethrower she envisioned with her free hand. “Ghaaa-!” The dwarf recoiled as his vision was engulfed in fire. Even in the cold, the sudden scorching heat from the fire proved effective. The dwarf stumbled back cursing and screaming as the helmet was turned into a furnace, almost burning his head alive. Before Augusta could use her second hand however, he used his shield to block the rest of the fire Augusta was slinging at him, frantically taking off his helmet with the other revealing a now burned face beneath. She had managed to subdue him, but her reserves for magic couldn't last forever. Isidore imagined the scenario perfectly, almost. His opponent lost most of the use of his injured arm from the stab, severed arteries and muscles rendering it a bleeding, useless, mess. It would play out almost exactly as he envisioned. He charged. The dwarf swung his axe with a mighty heave. Isidore deflected the blow, his blade catching his opponents weapon. His dagger found the target. Fire billowed from the weapon, a bloodcurdling scream from the dwarf as it was burned entirely from the inside out. His axe fell to the snow, soon followed by his limp body. It had gone as planned, so there was no reason to linger upon the expected result any longer. Letting out a sharp breath, Isidore twisted his dagger out of the smoldering corpse of the mountain man, and then dropped both his weapons onto the ground to pick up the axe. It was heavy, stained with his own blood, but the top-heavy nature of the weapon made it excellent for one thing. Throwing. Pushing past the strain upon his left shoulder, Isidore grasped the haft of the weapon and brought it back. He centered himself onto the dwarf who had been held down by Augusta’s flames, took in a deep breath, and widened his eyes. It was the posture of a gunman, but he was throwing an axe. The man could have smiled about this, with a couple drinks. But instead, he tightened his muscles and swung the halberd towards his target, hands still extended outwards as the weapon cartwheeled towards the mountain man’s back. [b]“Erupt.”[/b] A final surge of energy shot out from his veins, linking to the part of him stuck upon the spinning blade. Blood ignited explosively upon the axehead, adding a burst of speed and destructive ability that should cause the armored man to falter long enough to be overcome by Augusta’s fire. And if not? Isidore picked up his dagger and sword, and began to approach him. The weapon sailed, wind whistling around its blade as it careened towards its target. Even if the recipient had saw it coming, it was either the axe, or being burned alive. There was a sickening crunch, and a muted grunt from the dwarf as his body was knocked down by the impact. Dead. Leuca let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. “...oh, thank the ancestors...ahah...” The young elf let out a mirthless, dry laugh. “You two...were amazing. I-isidore...I didn't think there was a human capable of weaving spells like that...And Augusta. I don't...even think Sirithen druids can do it so easily...” Her voice was quiet, eyes cast down towards the quickly freezing over slush. Despite her compliments it was clear the kid wasn't doing well. Finally too, Octavia returned to Augusta's side, a long tongue licking fresh red blood from her maw. It was easy to figure out why the third dwarf hadn't come back to pester them, at least. Perhaps it might be best to find some shelter, now. The storm was still raging, and it didn't seem like it was going to be stopping anytime soon. Leuca sheathed her dagger somewhere under her cloak, looking between the two. “Thank you for the assist, Isidore. Perhaps I should learn some Lightning magic to help deal with enemies wearing armor.” Augusta mentioned, giving a nod to the man before looking down at Octavia. She wanted to say something, but sighed and pet the dog anyhow. “Thank you for dealing with that man, Octavia. Good girl. Only kill people that threaten us though.” She didn’t seem upset or anything. She just smiled, though winced a bit as she pet the beast for a second time. Right, her arm was messed up. She hoped she hadn’t broke a bone but she should be fine. Octavia tilted her head to the side as though she didn't entirely understand, but barked happily in response. She rested her other hand on the spot that hurt and weaved some of her healing magic into it, though the initial touch made her wince a second time. It was fairly obvious she was hurt, but she didn’t make a show of it. “I don’t know many things, but what I can say is I’m no druid. Heh…” She looked around at the camp and frowned. “Guessing we shouldn’t stay here. Is there anywhere else we can go?” She asked, looking at Leuca. “You still need healed and there’s plenty of questions for both sides.” Isidore only nodded at Leuca’s praise. Good. It would be troublesome if this level of ability was something commonplace in the world. A fight would be much less predictable, after all, if everyone had access to the steadily-growing suite of abilities in his grasp. Walking over to the other two and casting a brief look at Octavia’s bloodied fur, Isidore didn’t waste time stripping the cloaks and belts off the humans. His arming sword had served him well, but the scabbards of those knights’ belts only fit their own sword, so he swapped it out, tying the belt to his own body and sheathing the longsword he pilfered from one of the knights. It would take some time getting used to the sensation of something hanging against his waist, but he’ll get used to it. It was more important, after all, to have his hands free. While Augusta healed herself, Isidore kept busy with slicing off hunks of steaming meat from the roast. Throughout the entirety of the fight, no one had knocked it over, so he was more than happy to help himself to a hearty meal. He tore a leg off the creature to feed Octavia, and then pulled the shield off the arm of the other man. Scrubbing the surface with some snow, Isidore soon used it as an improvised plate, efficiently slicing off more cuts of meat for the others to eat. [b]“I’ll bury them,”[/b] he said, tilting his head in the direction of the five corpses that they now accompanied. [b]“Leuca, eat up, rest up, and tell us everything you know. We leave when you’re ready.”[/b] Satisfied with the quick meal he had, Isidore wiped his dagger on his sleeve, sheathed it, and kicked up the axe that he had thrown previously. A shovel would have been nice, but an axe could do the job in a jiffy. Better than just a stick, after all. He stood at the perimeter of the camp, drew in a breath to stock the internal furnace within his body, and as his body temperature began to rise once more, Isidore pushed the energy first into his injured shoulder, and then into his arms. Perhaps he could strengthen himself and heal up while he got with this task. Snow melted underfoot, as the axehead smashed into dirt and gravel. A shallow grave would suffice. “R-right...” Leuca took a seat by the fire, taking Isidore up on the offer of eating something finally. It had been...an entire day? Or was it almost two? Since she had eaten last...right before...he elf hugged herself. She couldn't be this down. She had to...help Isidore and Augusta, right? Maybe they could... “...U-uhm, I'll try. I'm not sure if anything I know could help...” Leuca replied. “L-let me start with myself again. I am Leuca Whelani. My U-uncle is King Boidmal of the Sirithen...” Her voice slowly steadied itself while she began talking. “I was supposed...to be heading to Gloomhollow, The Urutha...er, Shadow Elves home. Our relationship with them has never been good. They...they used demonic magics to keep themselves alive in the Moonless Era before, and still practice it...” Leuca frowned. “But this was supposed to be a peace offering of sorts. I was...supposed to be sent to learn from their Queen, Ereleiva.” She looked at where Isidore was burying the dwarves. “I don't...know why the Dwarves would do this.” She shook her head, frowning. “The Shadow Elves and them have been allies since someone they call the 'Great Sage' led them against some threat in that era. The Dwarves live in the mountains, and Gloomhollow – the Urutha's home, lay beneath. A-ah...and the Apostles...I don't know much. They're just...humans who follow some Old God from before even the Moonless Era and who see this world as 'wrong'...or something...we don't know. They just really don't like anything non-human...that's all I really know.” "So these Apostles have your… Older Sister, Sorcha?" Augusta asked, continuing the treatment on her arm. That dwarf swung pretty heavily with the bladed weapon he used. Perhaps she'd take that with her. "Speaking of enemies, what do you know of this Lord.. Firebreat-- Firebeard." The elf corrected herself. "Is he Lord of the dwarves here? Or is he merely some faction leader wanting a prize, or perhaps hostage?" She was starting to formulate plans to go about preventing this dwarf from claiming a prize while saving this elf girl's sister-apparent. “I don't know...he's not their King so he might be one of the higher ranking Raider Captains or maybe one of their warrior poets...but I'm not sure.” Leuca frowned, shaking her head. “Sorry, I don't know much about them. I-i've never been outside the forest before a few days ago and only know the most important people...” The girls lips however, turned into a small smile soon though. “Ehe, and I wouldn't worry about Sorcha. S-she's not actually my sister but she helped raise me when my father and uncle were too busy. She's been with the Royal Family since before was born and is probably the strongest warrior in the forest!” If nothing else, it seemed like talking about this Sorcha improved Leuca's mood a bit. “She has this really amazing sword that goes 'fwoom' and 'zwoom' when she swings it, eheheh!” A sudden gust of harsh, cold wind nearly blew the girl off her feet. The storm was getting worse, now. “Ah...w-we should find something to block this wind…!” The wind indeed, was one of the worst aspects about this storm. Crackling thunder and lighting already descended aside, the wind was now carrying large amounts of snow, whipping it into a white, freezing blizzard. It was almost getting hard to talk, too. "Yes, let's find a cave to get out of this wind. We can gather stuff to make a fire on the way." She looked to Isidore who she hoped was done with whatever he was doing. "Lets get moving." She picked up the trophy sword and made sure to eat some of the lizard meat before they left. Her arm was better. The soreness was mostly gone. "Come, Leuca. You can tell us more of Sorcha when we find some shelter." She hoped this would help encourage the child in finding some shelter as she wrapped an arm around the child to help prevent her from flying away in the wind. It also helped her apply some healing magic. "Octavia, keep an eye out for dangers." The storm was getting stronger, and Isidore didn’t plan on lingering for much longer either. Tossing the last of the dwarves into a shallow grave, he shoved a pile of dirt over them, only an inch or two’s worth, before hurrying over to salvage what he could from the fallen knights. It was a shame about their armor; he’d have loved an opportunity to pull it apart and take it for himself, but Isidore focused on their belongings instead, utilizing the rope they had on them to make a rudimentary sling pack to carry the bundles of fur and cloth. The preserved food was a wonderful addition, and he took up the shield as well. Though snow lashed against his face and lightning cracked against the mountainside, Isidore could take stock of all that he had gained and be content. He pushed to the front of the group, just a couple steps ahead of Leuca and Augusta, to serve as a windbreak for them. Heat, emanating from the circulation of energy from his body, was pushed back onto them, offering a warm breeze for the two. The skies were dark though, and it was still unclear where a shelter could be found. [b]“Twenty minutes,”[/b] Isidore called out. [b]“After that, we’ll dig a trench and hunker down inside there.”[/b] Their progress was slow, winds berating them with cold, though Isidore managed to keep them from getting frostbite, or worse. Octavia elected to stay near Leuca, who was having trouble simply walking in this wind. The Elf child didn't seem to be able to keep up very well, and was hampering their progress up the mountain. Slow progress, was still progress, however. There was nothing immediately around them that seemed to pass as a shelter, though the blinding winds of the storm didn't make that a particularly easy feat in and of itself. Soon they'd find themselves traveling further up the mountain. They hadn't been too far up it in that camp, but slowly and steadily they would climb. It'd be about fifteen minutes into their trek, hope of finding shelter slowly dwindling when they finally spotted something that might at least, be somewhat decent. It wasn't a cave, but a formation of rocks creating a small natural alcove on three sides leaving only the top, and the open side exposed to the harsh winds. The space inside would be cramped for all three of them, but it might be better than simply digging a trench. But such a small space, could likely be easily heated too. Isidore stared at the alcove. Once, twice. Shook his head. Was it still there? Good. His thoughts were beginning to wander, so monotonous the trek through the storm had been, and the fact that he was burning up energy just to ward off frostbite was slowly fatiguing him. An alcove like this...would be friendly enough. He let out a sigh, then pulled Leuca up into the alcove, practically pushing the long-eared child into the back of it. Snapping out the heavy blanket, the dark-haired man motioned for Augusta to grab the other end. [b]“I’ll do the top. You handle the bottom.”[/b] Without another word, he climbed above the alcove, pressing the blanket against the ground, before shuffling whatever heavy rocks he could find on top of it. Snow was used to pack down and maintain the positions of the rocks; Isidore turned them into slush with his heightened body heat, before letting the cold temperatures themselves freeze it into ice. It would take some effort to remove the blanket in the morning, and they would have to periodically slap the snow off it during the night, but this way, they had a windbreak. Hopefully. Isidore frowned. The weather must be doing a number on him. He wasn’t predisposed to hope alone, so he packed some extra snow and stone on top. Augusta had a thought in mind on how to keep the blanket up. She just hoped that, given her past experiences it'd be as easy as she hoped. She held the blanket and melted some ice on the rock with her flames and let it flow on to the blanket a bit. Then she thought about how ice was made from water, how freezing occurred and pointed her hand. Slowly, the water froze into ice and stuck the part of the blanket to the stone. She repeated the process until she had got the blanket fairly well anchored. She wondered if perhaps it would have been better to make a wall of ice but gave up the thought as she wasn't sure how she'd go about doing that. "Hmm." For now, perhaps it was best to gather something flammable. They needed a fire to keep warm. Hopefully, with all four of them huddled together in a small area they'd keep warm. It was a shelter, however makeshift. Leuca quickly positioned herself at the back, Octavia deciding to curl up next to the elf child. Leuca pulled her ragged cloak tighter over her body, glad to finally be out of the wind. Thankfully, Isidores and Augusta’s efforts proved effective. It was still frigid, but now that the wind had been cut off from all but one side at least they no longer had to deal with the wind chill. Now they just had to weather the storm, and some method of warmth. No telling how long it was going to rage for. If nothing else, Leuca was good at passing the time with idle conversation. She spoke a great deal about this ‘Sorcha’ person, taking up Augusta’s offer on talking more about her. The rest of her family and the elves too. Apparently ‘Talamn’ was the elves' current home, located some distance to the south still. Across a vast snowy plain that some race called the ‘Bastelian’ home. Apparently the Apostles also had some home somewhere further to the southeast, close to the ocean though she didn’t know where exactly. They only occasionally came close to Talamn, but when they did they typically just murdered any non-human they could find. Needless to say, they were not the friendliest sort and people had very little information on them. Eventually though, Leuca slowly fell asleep - though it didn’t look like she slept very well, not for very long moments at a time and even if she did she tossed and turned. The storm would rage through the night, the storm piling more and more snow upon the front of the alcove, until it had halfway buried the entrance under a pile of snow. At some point in the night, they would vaguely hear what sounded like it might have been a horn periodically, but it soon faded. Aside from the cold, lightning thundering and cracking overhead, the rest of the night would pass uneventfully until morning came and the storm finally let up. After they would finally dig themselves out of their shelter for the evening, they could still see angry gray clouds rolling overhead. It seemed like it might start again at some point, but for now they could make an attempt to travel further through the mountain, though any path that may have existed was thoroughly buried under snow, now leaving nothing but rocks, and thick drifts of snow to traverse. Leuca would have been the last of the group to wake. The elf would slowly pull herself out of the shelter, seemingly still half asleep. That just left them to figure out where they were going and what they were doing, now. [hider=Goddess Note: Isidore] Item received: Some preserved food Enough for two people to last a few days. Roll of what seemed to be a mat of thick fur, likely for sleeping on Comfortable, but only one. A heavy looking fur/cloth blanket. Cozy, warm and heavy. Good for sleeping in colder climates. Communication horn Made from bone, hollow and likely used for communication. A small pot and a ladle Frozen canteen of water Ability Gained: Fire Breath: Trying to be a dragon, are we? This ability, while weak, serves its purpose. Unleash a stream of fire from your nostrils and throat scorching anything in front of you. Lasts only for a moment, but would probably burn most fleshy targets well. [/hider] [hr] Wayward builder [@Guy0fV4lor][@PaulHaynek] [hr] “If she is possessed that’s a big deal! You should seek assistance!” The woman replied with an exasperated and concerned tone. “What if she hurts someone! She could get hurt too! We should bring her to a shrine to-” It seemed as though she hadn’t been able to take Nicks joke as a joke. Considering the nature of things, possession may not be an entirely. She did manage to stop herself, however, and merely clear her throat. “N-no, its fine. I should not speak out of turn.” The woman replied, seemingly trying to stop herself from speaking more. “And...I apologize again but I can not speak so familiarly with a human. I am Haruno. I am one of Lady Mie’s retainers, though she currently tasked me with talking to the villagers.” Haruno replied. “I apologize again for not being more help in whatever trouble is plaguing here. I would need to get Lady Mie’s permission before I could, and she’s currently busy. I would suggest meeting with lord Enli. He lives in the longhouse up there. He’s this towns...Chief, I think they call him.” [hr] Send Feet Pics [@Cu Chulainn] [hr] The birds looked at Malphas. Then glanced towards where he had pointed. A few exchanged what seemed to be communicative squawks. They looked back to Malphas, only to find him fleeing. Well they certainly didn’t like that. With an Angry squawk, the group began running after him. Yet, they did not get far. Malphas didn’t either. Before he was able to run very far, he’d find him almost coming face to face with what seemed to be [url=https://i.imgur.com/otMbykm.jpg]one of the huntresses[/url] from the village. She smirked, before using the butt of her spear to knock the feet out from under Malphas sending him face first to the snow. The birds, somewhat confused but not entirely caring as long as they had some prey quickly focused in on their new target. The huntress, though, was definitely prepared. More than Malphas was anyways. One of the birds leaped towards her, but she was faster. Metal met flesh, the weapon slamming into the bird, cleaving a large, deep gash into its breast and sending it careening towards the ground. The second bird went for the feet in an attempt to topple her, but the armored foot slammed into its beak as she kicked it. Spinning the spear, the butt soon slammed into the third, cracking its skull with a loud cracking of bone. The fourth, was soon similarly dealt with before it could flee. Ducking under its lunge, she then reached out and grabbed it by its tail feathers, slamming it into the ground and crushing its head underfoot. By now, the fifth was already fleeing the scene, thoroughly spooked. In all, it had taken barely twenty seconds for her to deal with the birds. She walked over to where she had tripped Malphas, holding out a hand to help him up. “Glad I decided to see what you were up to.” Once he was pulled to his feet, the Huntress rested her spear on her shoulder. “Soyala. If you were too inebriated to remember.” Ah, it was the girl from last night. What was she doing here though? “I suggest you get a move on to the temple. I was told not to help, but...well, I’m not good at doing what I’m told.”