Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by BCTheEntity
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It seemed like nobody had really reacted to Sett's proclamation of his actual profession, beyond a notable- and quite sharp- stare from the seven-foot-tall Elf-like being across the room. What did they call themselves? Skay-lee, or something, he wasn't quite sure. This was the first time it had ever been relevant for him. He was sure he'd learn the being's actual race sometime soon. Perhaps not his habits... though the soldier seemed more than happy to trust him on that matter. More fool him.

Either way, time passed, as time does, and it soon happened that it was time to move on to the wilderness. The tall fellow, apparently untrusting of Elven magic, was led out of the room by another individual. In her turn, the attractive-though-unkind Elf Princess began some sort of magical incantation, which Sett was sure he'd be able to figure out the logistics of if he only and they were in a field. An incredibly lovely field, almost as magical as the magic that had just been cast, but still a field. And it seemed this was where they were to sleep for the night...

He did not have his own camping equipment. As a matter of fact, he had not so much as a bedspread to his name. In fairness, it was not as though he was not more than used to sleeping rough, but he had not done so for close to three years now. And even if he had, he suspected it would be rather colder and harsher down in the Southlands than in the cities of Vrettonia... not, he noticed, something that seemed to bother the Dwarf of the party, who seemed to lie down and fall asleep near-instantly, in spite of another's protests. And now that he thought about it, this "other" was dressed in a manner suggesting wealth, though much inferior to the Princess' own lavish appearance, yet with more of a practical streak if the style was anything to go by. Though he'd be rather annoyed if it turned out she too was a mage of some sort, if the accent- so similar to, yet so different from his own- implied anything about her lineage. That might make acquiring anything off her harder than usual.

She was, however, quite able to set up her own campsite. For a while, Sett took the time to simply watch her and the others, with his soldier companion taking little and less time, whilst the apparently-noble lady took quite a bit to do her own preparations for the night. Finally, as she completed her tasks, he decided he might as well try to get into her good graces, if only to see if she was as gullible as the soldier in question; strolling over to her, he hailed her with a jovial smile: 'Greetings, O fair lady! I don't believe we've talked to one another yet, and I was wondering if I might get to know you, perhaps learn your name if I may? I'm sure you heard my, ah, earlier statements about myself, but I've scarce heard anything about you, perhaps for distraction's sake if nothing else.'
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As Alice completed her errands she looked around the glade again. The lack of light for miles around meant the sky was more stars than blackness, and if she cared to she could have picked out many different constellations. She didn't much care to do anything other than sleep, but she noticed the gaudy-looking noble-priest man from earlier heading her way. She readied herself for conversation and cheap flattery.

He definitely looked kindly, smiling as he greeted her warmly but not loud enough to disturb any of the others. "Greetings, O fair lady!" he started. Fairer than Princess Vanya you were bemused with earlier? Alice withheld from saying her scathing remark, she didn't care much for people who were easy with compliments but also didn't want to sour any potential comrade's disposition if she didn't have to. "I don't believe we've talked to one another yet, and I was wondering if I might get to know you, perhaps learn your name if I may? I'm sure you heard my, ah, earlier statements about myself, but I've scarce heard anything about you, perhaps for distraction's sake if nothing else."

For distractions sake, ha! The only distraction she wanted right now was how to arrange her bedroll most comfortably, but she was too well trained to show anything like that. Well, maybe a little bit. "Alice Peerbane, it's nice to meet you." She gave a small curtsy, in case he was of noble descent. He shared a Vrettonian accent like her, but far less refined. The fact he'd said Lady at all showed he wasn't accustomed to court ettiquette, had he been he would have said 'Madame' if he meant the respect he tried to imply. "I am afraid I didn't hear anything about you. Forgive me if don't seem prude, but you don't seem like you're from the upper classes of Vrettonnia. And the only other faction that could afford such clothes would be religion. Are you a man of the gods?"

But even that definition didn't fit the man before her. He seemed too world-wise, and far too alert for a man of the cloth. There was certain cunning and intelligence behind those eyes as oppose to the sluggish non hostile looks preachers gave out. He lacked the weapons of a mercenary, and the discipline and physique of a trained soldier. A thief perhaps? Stolen the clothes from a traveller? A highwayman? No, he didn't look hardened enough for that. This man was an enigma, she definitely wasn't feeling mentally sluggish any more

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Beren was satisfied with Vanya's answer, and unpacked his things. He had a small pack along with his new one made of Elven silk. He took out a small water bottle and took a swig, before wiping his mouth with his muscled forearm. He opened his eyes, and glanced to Harvan. "Well met." he said. The lighting was dim, but not too dark to see by with the starlight. "We did not get a chance to speak back at the Inn. Are you a soldier?" His brows were raised, showing he truly was interested. He had the look of an experienced warrior, though perhaps not a professional armsman in a standing army. His crimson and loose fitting garb bereft of armor was quite odd to someone who hailed from the north like Harvan.

It was then that An-Hasst made it into the Elven glade. Brogach the Elk padded into the clearing with his rider, before lowering himself to allow him to dismount. Calanon the Ranger smiled brightly and patted his Elk's muzzle. "Fair travels I take it?" he asked Brogach, before giving An-Hasst a nod. "I hope the brambles did not harm you too much, friend. They can cut hard those who are not used to the Southland." These last words were aimed at the Skayleigh.

Surprisingly, Vanya approached Alice and Sett. She crossed her arms and regarded them. "Forgive me," she said, speaking as if it was a statement rather than an apology. She eyed them both, her hip cocked and eyebrow raised as she did so. "I am curious on what manner of magic you specialize in, and how many years you have practiced." Her question was to Alice, but she looked Sett up and down. "And if you are a priest, can you perform spells, sir?" Behind them, Geradin's barrel belly rose and fell as he snored loudly.
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"You have a quite exquisite little patch of land down here in the South", An-Hasst replied in a somewhat happy tone. The Skayleigh too patted Calanon's elk who had taken him here surprisingly fast. "If there's something I can do for you, let me know." the half-elf added towards the ranger. Hopefully this little favor he had just offered would not result in being told to just shut up sometimes later. The man with only halfway pointed ears was quite aware of the risk, but of course he didn't mention it.

With casual steps, the walking tower approached the rest of the party. "Soo.. as I can see, everybody has survived teleportation ?" He nodded his head as if he wanted to say something like 'not bad!', though probably with a noticeable amount of sarcasm. He saw the Andred battle mage, but at this late a time even he in his tendential role as a rascal (not that he would consider himself being one!) wasn't eager of deliberately running himself into trouble again.

"So... what is the actual plan for tomorrow ? Get up early I think ? Then we should probably put ourselves to a decent rest soon."

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Alice had no longer finished her sentence than they were joined by Princess Vanya. "Forgive me," she said in a high cut tone that sounded nothing like an apology and instead as a means of attracting attention. Alice bet Vanya couldn't remember the last time she had to sincerely apologise for anything. The Elven lady adopted a surprisingly defensive posture and asked her, "I am curious on what manner of magic you specialise in, and how many years you have practiced." without even waiting for an answer she seemed to try and weigh up the man she had been talking to, looking him over. "And if you are a priest, can you perform spells, sir?"

Alice did little to hide her impatience. Vanya had waltzed in and ruined any sort of chance Alice had at learning the truth behind this man for tonight. True, her plan to bait him in conversation had been in it's infancy but it was still an opportunity wasted. "Your highness, I understand I was not on your list of potential candidates for this quest," with that in mind she wondered how it was so obvious to identify her as a mage, and not just some non-arcane exile of Vrettonnia who was discarded from the courts because of her lack of talent. Unless that was the real objective of the question, to find out the exact extent Alice could be useful to the team, not just in magical talents but also awareness of political landscapes and potential to pull power from Vrettonnia to help. "I have studied in the Vrettonian High University for most of my adolescent life, where it is strict policy that they do not allow students to specialise. Since then I still have not picked a school in particular." this idea was more a political one than one done so out of liberal education. Wizards being astute in all schools meant they did not split up into their own factions based on education, meaning there was more unity in the upper classes. People did specialise once they left, but few enough that they couldn't start to splinter the whole system. "I cannot say I was the most talented there," she continued, "But I know enough to realise that success is rarely governed by raw power, but by application. And when it comes down to it no amount of talent and force can overcome a sharp mind and a sturdy heart." It was a line once said by a famous duellist a century ago, an advisor of the king who said this before a critical battle that turned the tide of a war. The line was often quoted in the Vrettonnian army but rarely elsewhere. Alice couldn't say she had the sharpest mind or the sturdiest heart, but they'd worked well enough so far. It seemed sharp minds and sturdy hearts were aplenty in the assembled, so she was confident in the company she now kept

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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Vas Khaleen
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Maygen walked beneath a thick canopy of trees, the twisting branches overhead casting dark shadows in combination with the leaves; her armor shifting with each step and making slight clanking noises in spite of the rags she had stuffed beneath the hard metal to reduce contact. She had left the visor of the reddish black helm lifted upwards, locked in place by a simple notch in the steel allowing her to have a full field of vision as having the visor shut considerably lowered a persons sight; the tri-headed dragon rising from her crest roaring with all their maws open. A powerful longsword slung over her shoulder by a leather strap loop, the sword massive at just over five and a half feet long with a three inch wide blade, its hilt bound in fine black leather; baring both a crossbar and ring guards its pommel coming to a dull point for added blunt damage in close quarters. The swords sheath was simple in design, made from oak wood and bound in crimson leather the sigil of House Yarwyck stamped in the center of the case; a roaring giant breaking free from chains on its hands and feet.

As she trudged through the forest the knight took in all the sights around her, not at all fatigued by her endless march having done it countless times in far worse conditions before headed to much less desirable happenings; her armored boots left light footprints in the ground and audibly thudded against rocks. As Maygen continued through the forest she spied the Glade from some distance off, figuring it had to be the location the representative of the Queen had told her about, the presence of the strange group of assorted warriors and mages only confirming her suspicion as she neared being sure to make quite a bit of noise as to not startle anyone. As she walked into the glade the knight raised her right hand in greeting, stopping several feet from the group initially; raising her voice to speak. She was a rather well known knight in Andred and wondered if any of the group might recognize her, having led the Kings Vanguard into battle on several occasions, not spotting any of the Royal Armies typical opponents amongst the group.

"Seven blessings, my name is Dame.Maygen Yarwyck. I was contacted by a representative of the Queen I assume you all are part of that as well?"

She kept her primary goal however to herself, which was of course to map out the southlands for King Connrad; having already been told to keep the mission to herself lest it get back to the other King and Queendoms.
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What a posh name. Unusual surname, but then she was definitely a member of Vrettonia's upper class, so maybe they occasionally named themselves differently. She seemed ever so slightly taken aback by his reference to her as "lady", and he supposed he'd have to figure out the correct terminology later on; however, since she'd asked about his relatively lavish clothing, he supposed he would want to explain again that he did as the gods (a god, ahem) commanded. Before he could do so, however, the Elven Princess made her way over to them, inserting herself into the conversation in a way that the noblewoman was obviously taken aback by, asking about their respective magical potentials. Had she never encountered other priests before? Could she not generalise from those? Though perhaps Elven priests are by definition more magically-inclined than human equivalents, he pondered; he himself was but a minor facet of Fineki's overall presence in Maroleth, and though he occasionally asked, he was not often gifted His power to bestow upon others. Though now he was in such an important position... could that be Fineki's doing, or simply the dumb, more common luck that had pushed him to become a priest in the first place? Hmm...

Regardless, the lady Alice's response to the Princess Vanya was quite astute, and very well-worded. He certainly recognised the military quote - one of but a few mottos of Vrettonia that the lower class was occasionally able to filter from their more fortunate cousins - and silently acknowledged the cleverness of its use, that only a particularly well-travelled being would recognise it for what it was this far South. He didn't quite agree with it (of course a sharp mind was never a thing to waste, but you could have the sturdiest heart in the world and it'd still be pierced quite handily by any strong, talented swordsman), but the sentiment was nonetheless partially echoed. Speaking of which, to continue on from Miss Peerbane's short speech, he gestured toward her with both hands to indicate agreement, simply stating 'She is as wise as she is fair, your Highness. I am sure such a quality applies to your beauteous self, too, o Princess Vanya,' he continued, bowing ever so slightly after the fact; perhaps she'd catch the subtle compliment, perhaps not, but he hardly cared.

'As for my own magical prowess,' he continued, 'I am not a mage myself, in the manner of your two selves, but as I'm sure you're both aware, one does not need to be to petition the gods for but a miniscule fraction of their power. One must request, of course, rather than demand, but if they see fit, then some few might be blessed to spread the power of the gods more directly... if I could ask you to accept the gods into your heart for but a moment, Ms. Alice Peerbane, I might perhaps demonstrate.' He had decided now was as good a time as any to test the theory of whether Fineki had deliberately put him here, amongst this varied band of people, and recalled in his mind a short series of gestures and words designed to ask the deity to bestow upon a willing recipient "a symbol of protection from those who wish them well", complete with a small visual effect in the form of the corresponding deity's symbol, briefly emblazoned in the air as coloured light. Really, it was just a minor luck charm, designed to put the bearer in more advantageous positions for a few days before fading, but it helped make the holder feel good about themselves, at least. And, conveniently, provided room for even moderately skilled priests to snatch a few coins or trinkets whilst the target was distracted, or to allow their fellows to do so unnoticed.

'Oh, hear me, almighty Seradwyn, mistress of Magic and Passion,' he began, in this case invoking the god of magic's name as the symbol and colour to supply for the blessing - and why not, when he had two mages before him? - 'and in your mercy may I ask that you bestow upon this layperson your protection, that they be defended from the trials that might befall them in the coming times!' As he chanted, he first laid his hands upon the lady's shoulders, before removing them and circling them around her head, then in a rapid spiral pattern a few centimeters from her front- and that would be the point when he'd begin snatching things from a less observant individual, under normal circumstances, though certainly not this time- then the same pattern at the same distance to either side of her and up beyond her head, then again in two straight lines past her front, down then up, before encircling her head once more, moving both hands down to hip level, and clapping them flat together at about nose height, just in front of his own face. When he parted his palms like a flower, with wrists as hinges, he and the two observers ought to be presented with either Seradwyn's holy symbol, in which case he was ready to smirk lightly and whisper 'Ah... it seems the gods are paying attention to us after all. A good sign,'; or to be presented with nothing, in which case he'd simply shrug and say 'Perhaps not this time, then.' Either way, his point about the gods would have been made, and he'd have an answer to his unasked question.

Mere moments after that event, a knight clanked over to them. A female knight, as it happened (how rare), with most likely nothing Sett could reasonably nab without it being missed, just the same as that other soldier. She introduced herself as Dame Maygen Yarwyck, and explained her purpose for being present; Settionne considered greeting her and introducing himself, but for the moment decided to remain silent. Perhaps he might have the others in this party divulge information about themselves that they'd not reveal directly to him, and if not, he could at least gain a tad more information about her before deciding whether or not any attempt to steal from her might be profitable.

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Despite herself, Princess Vanya was mildly impressed with the two before her. Her arms remained crossed and her posture was a casual, if imperious one. But the brows rose on her Elven face and she nodded at both the explanation Alice gave, as well as Sett's enchantment. She seemed to be immune to the charms of off handed compliments, having heard many of them from would be suitors. But it did not bother her either. It simply was.

Settionne's Fineki charm seemed to work, and a very brief and dim symbol of Seradwyn glowed for a split second before fading, and a similar light faded over Alice Peersbane before it dissipated as if it never was. "Well, you're quite the...odd man. But you seem to have some talent and favor. I was wrong to underestimate you." Vanya said to Sett, giving a small incline of her head. Suddenly, her ears perked up and she turned to see this newcomer enter the glade.

An-Hasst beside her spoke of them being ready for the morrow, and she was inclined to agree. "Indeed." Her words were to the Skayleigh, but her eyes were on the newcomer. "Welcome to our resting spot. My sister told me of you." The Princess then began to introduce everyone. Geradin was still fast asleep on the soft grass, but Beren stood up and gave a friendly smile and a nod. "An honor to meet you." the Warrior Monk said. Calanon gave a humble bow.


In the morning, the group ate a light breakfast. Vanya had by this point disappeared, giving one final farewell before she teleported back to Riverhope. Beren and Calanon ate a bit of jerky, while Geradin scarffed down some eggs and sausage. He finished his meal with a final burp. Once everyone was done with their meal, they set off heading southeast through the brush. The next mile was fairly uneventful, as was the next, other than leaves brushing across their bodies and gnarled roots catching their feet unless they were careful.

Beren strode at the fore, the muscled young man had his staff out and used it as a walking stick. Calanon and his steed Brogach were only spotted every once in awhile, scouting to the side and front every so often. Around them, the forest grew incredibly thick as they continued forward. It was an hour before Calanon returned at the front, riding atop Brogach and halting before them. "There's a bog up ahead. I believe past the bog we should make it to more solid ground and will make the rendezvous point. "I guess it's too big to go around, bud?" Beren asked.
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The Skayleigh had been able to observe what had been going on between Alice and Sett the evening before, but only visually. The sheer presence of Vanya had made him unwilling to get involved into this dialogue because in her vicinity, he felt socially uncomfortable.

However - he had failed. This elvish queen seemed to be capable of controlling a damn long queue of people that had spoken and that she felt the need to address. Well... she was a queen ? Was this ability such a surprise ? Likely not. This did not at all diminish the fact that the lady had spoiled his idea of personally introducing himself to the tall and armored woman that had arrived even after he had. At least Vanya seemed to be honest in what she had told everyone about everyone.




The next day, she was gone. Given her admittedly impressive abilities likely not on foot, but by teleportation. Hopefully she did this all day... From bed onto her chamber pot! From there to the kitchen! From there to the table she maybe used to eat breakfast! Into the bath tub! In front of her mirror to prepare herself for the throne room! Right into that damn thing! Maybe she had children she could pick up from whereever they were by this spell ? The more the better! It would increase the chances of her body ending as a miserably mangled, rapidly rotting heap of meat with the wrong side out!

It was even less than a questionable daydream though. Reality caught the Skayleigh in its grasp quickly as they headed out to their rendezvous point. An-Hasst was a bit jealous of Calanon. He could roam around freely on his elk at speed, a task the Skayleigh would probably find less boring than just walking.

Then, the group came to a halt. A bog ? Now that was dangerous. Especially for himself: At his weight he could sink in there like a stone. The half-elf half-giant spoke loud enough so that everyone would be able to hear him: "I'm afraid I don't have the proper arrows for shooting a rope over it with my crossbow, but some sort of lifeline is highly advisable I think. Does anybody have a really long rope ? Someone could wrap it around his waist and start crossing it while the others are ready to pull that one out if things go wrong. If we do this one by one we will have enough people on the other side to help from there soon enough."

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Vanya barely reacted to Alice's words, if only with a slightly lighter posture. Alice felt slightly relieved she was no longer under scrutiny. The Elf's gaze shifted to this priest, almost accusingly. It almost seemed she was trying to catch the two of them out, as if they were charlatans or pretenders. It briefly occurred to Alice that they seemed like two children trying to impress this maternal figure. Vanya didn't seem to understand that most priests in human lands could not cast spells, and were simply there to spread the word of the gods and help where they can. It took careful attention from up high to actually be able to command even a slither of their power, but this didn't seem to deter the other man.

"If I could ask you to accept the gods into your heart for but a moment, Ms. Alice Peerbane, I might perhaps demonstrate." She irked slightly at the 'Ms', but still nodded her assent. She assumed an easy pose, but was completely unsure of how to react to something like this. Should she clasp her hands in prayer, at least bow her head? Either way, she was suddenly too distracted by the quick and dramatic gestures of this man's hands. Well practised movements she noted, and it occurred to her that maybe divine casting for some gods was more than just a question but proving worth. Obviously worth of drama and flair for this god. Geradin himself was a cleric of the Dwarfen god Ragnarok, but he seemed to grant power far more freely than the effort on display here.

'Oh, hear me, almighty Seradwyn, mistress of Magic and Passion,' He said not loudly, but definitely with force. 'And in your mercy may I ask that you bestow upon this layperson your protection, that they be defended from the trials that might befall them in the coming times!' He gently laid his hand on hands on Alice's shoulders, before quickly darting them up and spinning them around her head. She wondered how many people he'd slipped with and actually managed to hit as he flurried his hands about her. With a clap he splayed his hands apart and revealed a symbol Alice did not recognise. She'd studied the gods at the high university, of course, and she would have to look over her notes to see if anything correlated. She was fairly sure it wasn't Seradwyn though. But the immediate question had been answered, to which Vanya seemed pleased. This man possessed divine power. Alice didn't feel any different, but knowing how human gods always liked to act in subtle ways she didn't expect to.

"Well, you're quite the...odd man. But you seem to have some talent and favour. I was wrong to underestimate you." Vanya inclined her head, revealing that she obviously had expected him to fail. Alice refused to act on the small childish impulse to feel glad when your betters are wrong. Instead she politely smiled and pondered her next words before a stranger entered the glade. She drew the attention of all thanks to her clanking movements and definitive aura of might. Even at this distance Alice could tell the armoured woman stood a couple of heads taller than herself and built like a foundry. The only way Alice could tell it was a woman at all was the raised visor, which showed subtle feminine features of a middle-aged woman even if they were obscured by battle scars and a horrifically slanted nose. She certainly wasn't a knight of Vrettonnia, who it seemed half the time were promoted on looks alone.

This woman spoke up "Seven blessings, my name is Dame Maygen Yarwyck. I was contacted by a representative of the Queen I assume you all are part of that as well?" Certainly Andred nobility, born and bred, there was no doubting it. Forged in war with Vrettonnia no doubt with a title as such. Alice didn't recognise the name itself, but it was unlikely she would have done anyways. Alice made a quick mental note to hide her Vrettonnian accent around this 'Dame'.

The present company excused themselves and Alice headed to bed after giving Sett (as he named himself) Geradin's tent and bedroll (since it didn't look like the Dwarf would be needing it.) She did lay a blanket over the slumbering rock that was the dwarf, and knowing he didn't need even that much she retired for the evening.




The company moved in modest silence the next morning, with a few chatters here and there until they reached the rendezvous point. Before they find the elven scouts they came across a large bog. They were lucky to notice it. An-Hasst spoke up "I'm afraid I don't have the proper arrows for shooting a rope over it with my crossbow, but some sort of lifeline is highly advisable I think. Does anybody have a really long rope ? Someone could wrap it around his waist and start crossing it while the others are ready to pull that one out if things go wrong. If we do this one by one we will have enough people on the other side to help from there soon enough." He was clearly experienced in such things. Geradin nodded his assent, being another member of the group who would struggle.

Alice knew she could use her magic to flip a rope across the distance, and even without a rope she imagine she could probably walk over unassisted anyways. However she waited to see what else the group would come up with, A powerful ice spell would come in handy she thought, but that was beyond her own capabilities to do quickly.
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The group exited the treeline and found themselves standing just before an expanse of shallow (hopefully) murky water that stretched as far as they could see. Perhaps they would have been able to see further if it wasn't for the fact that before them was a strange sight that Calanon had not reported.
"Why didn't you say anything?" Beren asked his Elven friend as he began to wade into the water, unsheathing his badlr Axe and unsure of what to do.
"They were not here before." Calanon replied, already stringing his bow and setting it ready. Geradin blustered into his beard at the sight. The great sloshing of what was before them could be heard even where they stood, for about 30 yards into the marsh was a battle of epic proportions. A bog creature, standing fully 12 feet tall hunched, burly and ape-like in proportion and covered in reeds and swamp leaves gargled a challenge at its opponent. A heavily armored and very large (though still Dwarfed in comparison to the monster) Lizardman of marsh-green scales hissed and banged its Hand and a Half Sword upon its shield, at the monster, returning the challenge. It seemed they had been fighting for awhile, for both had blood splattered about them. "Come faccccce me!" the Lizardman cried. "I am not done yet! You are my next meal!"
Around the creatures were various small 'islands' of soft earth, surrounded by waist deep water (seemingly, and by human standards).
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Oh... my.... god...

No, An-Hasst didn't really believe in an higher being that still was around in secrecy and fiddled with the world it created. However the Skayleigh community had some contact with humans - quite forcedly, what likely every Andred with basic education could confirm. Noticeably astonished, with his lips having separated from each other in a thin line, the half-elf half-giant looked at what surpassed even his own height by far. Then he redirected his head and eyes to a less steep angle. An-Hasst couldn't help but feel a tad pity for the lizardman. Judging by the many wounds both opponents already were covered with, he had made their job a bit easier. However An-Hasst estimated that he wouldn't be able to survive on his own.

The Skayleigh glanced towards Calanon. He could see that Brogach's owner already was stringing his bow. With a loud thudd, the heavy crossbow hit the muddy floor behind An-Hasst's heels. Normally these crossbows were cocked by stepping onto a lever, but he wasn't human. With his biceps bulging to a threatening extent that gave reason to the decision of wearing very large sleeves, he did the job by hand. Not exactly relaxing, but more efficient than the traditional method. One of the few advantages of being An-Hasst and not someone else with a name less prone to modification.

The Skayleigh stepped towards his wood elf mate and nodded towards him. He was convinced that it would be the appropriate action to attack this beast, but he also hoped that he'd get confirmation without having to speak loudly.

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It happened that Sett was lucky enough to receive the unconscious Dwarf's sleeping gear for the night, since the individual in question clearly didn't need it. In the first instance, he'd been ever so slightly offput by Fineki's symbol appearing before him; yet either the two mages had seen other symbols, or else hadn't recognised his deity's own for what it was, and having thanked Alice for her generosity, he slept relatively well that night. The next day, a light breakfast was had, and then the party set off once more, sans the virile beauty of Princess Vanya's treasure. "Virile" in the sense that a lot of money could have been made if anything was successfully snatched, though once more, she herself was quite beautiful, if haughty for her lofty role in life. He supposed he'd have to make do with what was available, in terms of loot, and that seemed to be sadly limited but for the goodies Vanya herself had offered.

Still, Settionne did not see fit to hinder their progress before they had gotten into the forest proper, when the Elf leading their group made note of a bog up ahead, with a possible (and unlikely) solution for crossing promptly offered by the Scay-lee. Skay-lay. Whatever. And, well, wading across would surely be difficult, if it wasn't particularly shallow. Though as it came in sight, it certainly seemed shallow enough to wade in, as evidenced by the particularly large Lizardman, and the extremely large bog monster. Which, apparently, was in fact made of flesh. He couldn't say he'd ever heard of a creature like that... unless it was some other large monstrosity that had cloaked itself in undergrowth and slime? That'd perhaps make more sense, and either way, he presumed his weapon, the sword of Moon Metal, would be able to damage its form far more effectively than one might otherwise assume.

...if he could bring himself to charge up to it to start dealing those blows. And he felt that that was perhaps a bad idea, since the thing could crush his entire body with a casual flailing of its arms. Never mind the Lizardman's own obvious preparations for a fight... but, well, it seemed more than ready to fight this creature to the death for its next meal, and both parties had been weakened beforehand. Why not give them a little more time to work each other over, when interfering would surely only bring them both to fight any unwanted intruders? Glancing to both sides, he took a casual step back from the rest of his group, which both made him less of a target to those monsters and gave him a brief headstart on his fellows if they decided to attack him. Well, maybe not a headstart for escape - much as he'd appreciate it, that would be utterly counterproductive to his ultimate goal - but maybe a tactical retreat, followed by an outflanking maneuver... who could say but the gods? His own god, rather. Aheheh.

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At the rear of the group, Alice saw the spectacle last. A massive creature draped in swamp debris which towered at the height of two men swung it's mighty arms fruitlessly at it's hissing foe, it's swamp vines whipping ineffectually through the air and sending horrible swamp water everywhere. The opponent in question was a Lizardman who spat curses and challenges in the direction of the monster, something about dinner. Each movement from the two of them trunched up great tides of mud, soaking them and causing blood from the two figures to drip freely along their damp hides and into the green murk. They both probably smelt as bad as they looked, and from the tired stand-off they had they'd obviously been at this a while with no clear winner.

"Aha!" Geradin, like any dwarf, was always quick with his hammer and started his comical high knee'd charge into the melee. "Our first foe!" The rest of the group was wisely hanging back, not knowing Lizardman ritual or (however strange the word seemed here) etiquette. The Dwarf cleric just didn't have the patience or sense as he splashed his way alone letting out his own Dwarven curses. Alice couldn't help but smile

"Well, we needed to make friends with them anyway!" Though she wasn't sure any of this was the best way to do that. Alice started pulling energies into a missile spell, aware that although the Lizardman may be averse to the arcane and help from any source, she wouldn't leave Geradin out to dry. And she definitely wasn't going to fight it in close combat. "I don't know what you people are going to do, but I'll try and help." she said to the rest of the party. With that she let loose, and a great purple bolt streaked towards the creature, promptly getting lost in it's portable foliage. She readied another one, and looked for a better opening.

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Geradin let out a roar and pointed his hammer forward, invoking his God's favor to enchant his weapon with a bit of holy fire. A small light from the heavens poured down, invoking a small flame around his hammer's head. Both the monster and the Lizardman turned to regard the companions.

Beren backed up a few steps, unstrapping his Axe and Staff from his hip and back, holding the Axe in his right hand and his staff in his left. The tanned Warrior Monk suddenly charged, and sprang off the end of the soft earth to fly over the swamp water. He flung his Axe, the Badlr head swinging end over end before it hit the shoulder of the bog monster. The creature gave a rough cry of annoyance and pain. Just as it did, Beren hit the water. The swamp murk rose nearly to his waist, and he still had his staff to use. He waded forward to engaged. Geradin was just behind him, doing his best to traverse the swamp that was up to his burly chest.

Just as Beren had thrown his Axe and the action erupted, Calanon felt as if the consensus was aiding the Lizardman. He let fly his arrow, the missile slicing through the air to strike the beast on the cheek. It sank into the creature as if its flesh was halfway solid and halfway soft earth. It still felt pain from the way it screeched however, and it promptly turned to the companions, only to be hit by Alice's barrage and a bolt to the upper collar bone (or where one should be) by Ann-Hasst.

"He'ssssss mine!" The Lizardman cried, moving swiftly through the water toward the Bog creature. It roared and swung its huge ape-ish limb toward Beren. The Warrior Monk barely ducked in time.
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An-Hasst heard Geradin's roar. Well... Could one ask for a stronger, less ambiguous indication that the fight against this beast was bein agreed to than this ? Probably not. The huge Skayleigh aimed with one eye and pulled the trigger. The sound of the crossbow's mechanism was much louder than that of the bolt travelling right into what, according to analogy, had to be the beast's clavicle.

The half-elf briefly considered two very different options. The first one: reload. The second one: Grab the two bayonets and assist Beren as the warrior monk had decided to go melee. Judging the effectiveness of the first bolt was only one part of the equation. The other was if his comrade would be better off if he joined him in the swamp. However, after having looked at the two blades for the first time since their journey had begun, he decided that they were too short to be really effective against this beast. Additionally one couldn't be sure how solid the ground below the opaque water was. An-Hasst was well aware of the fact that he put a not-so-lithe man's weight down on each of his feet.

The next bolt was nudged into the guiding depression along the crossbow's middle. It was one of higher quality, hopefully with considerably more penetration power. The Skayleigh aimed for the creature's breast. With it fighting both the lizardman and Beren, its head was a target he considered too difficult to hit from the distance.

An-Hasst didn't see the 'defensive' role Sett started to play, otherwise he, by now, would maybe have turned into En-Rage(d).
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The bog monster was... angered, to say the least. And the same with the lizardman, who seemed to want to keep its stake on the creature's flesh or what have you, though at least felt the need to head toward that rather than the party proper. There, Settionne supposed, went any possibility of letting them fight one another without interfering. In which case, he supposed he ought to get involved somehow.

Since he'd already taken a step back from the others, he took the opportunity to begin circling round the fight in the bog to the opposite side of the bog creature as the lizardman, thereby needing to find a route through the marshes himself... ugh, how awful. How could a substance be both unpleasantly warm and cool in the same instant? Or maybe he just felt like that was the case. In any case, he could at least take his route to some area the creature was not paying attention to before approaching it. That might take a couple of moments to actualise, especially when moving even somewhat cautiously in that environment involved tapping with a foot the area where he next planned to step before putting his full weight on that foot. Fineki was gracious when it came to his priests' good fortune, at least most of the time, but it was still better not to tempt him to the point of upset when that wasn't necessary.

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Alice took stock of the situation. People were springing into action despite the Lizardman's cries against such action. Since all doubted it's ability to finish what it had started Alice didn't much mind. She didn't have the energy to waste by throwing a barrage of spells, nor could she accurately control or manipulate it's slodgey armour to dismantle it from this range (and like the priest alongside her, she had no intention of wading through this bog).

She centred herself and hurled another glowing bolt towards it's face. As predicted, it angled itself so the armour would absorb the projectile, but Alice veered it off before it hit. She let it drift around the beast before it got it's attention again, before doing the same manoeuvre, again and then again. Slowly the beast's gaze was raised and with the increasing speed of the attacks soon the missile was whizzing by and back again drawing the creature's almost full attention. "Hit it from below!" Alice shouted to her allies, though they seemed to get the idea already. The two Dwarves were laying into legs, arms and stomach much to the twice-as-tall Lizardman's dismay.

Hopefully the Lizardman would get the final blow and all would be forgiven, as the party had only set it up for the kill

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The two bolts by An-Hasst plunged into the bog creature's body in their intended spots, one through the collarbone first and foremost. The Lizardman seemed to take this as it was now, and decided he at least wanted the killing blow. He waded forward and hissed ferally, hefting his sword about like a coiled serpent.

Beren's Axe bit into the bog creature's flank, and Geradin tossed a few pebbles at the creature. The pebbles must have been fueled by his priestly magics, for they exploded on impact, making chunks of its bog flesh to fly into the swamp to becoming nothing more than moss again. As Alice's swirling magic missiles twirled about it and struck home, it was disoriented enough for the Lizardman to strike upwards with its large sword and pierce its head.

The bog monster roared gutturally, before collapsing onto itself into a bloated mass of thick and fleshy moss that suddenly lost all life and animation. Small waves churned from where its 'corpse' now resided, and the Lizardman hefted its shield and sword high and hissed in victory.

Beren's legs were now covered with the bog creatures 'entrails' and he comically let out an 'uegh' before glancing the Lizardman's way. "So, why were you fighting this thing, or do you plan on fighting us now?"

"I am a ssssssslayer of great beastssss!" the Lizardman proclaimed. "It's too bad thisss creature hasss no flesh to devour."
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Well, that made this ordeal a lot easier. Trudging over to where the rest of the group was, he approached the lizardman as it announced its status as "a sssslayer of great beastssss", lamenting the lack of flesh on the creature.

'And yet nonetheless, it is dead,' he announced with great aplomb and a raised finger. 'I applaud your effort, good sir- am I correct in pronouncing you a sir? I apologise if I am incorrect, I rarely have the opportunity to meet individuals of your evident esteem.' That is, probably a local legend at most. And since he'd never really met any such individuals personally, he wasn't technically lying. 'Regardless,' he continued jovially, 'you have performed a deed which, doubtless, few could live up to, and one you succeed in regularly from the sounds of it! If it were in any way achievable, I am sure your assistance would be of great help to our small-yet-tight-knit band of adventurers; but alas, I am also quite sure you shall in the future be occupied with more pressing concerns than our own...' This was, in theory, the bait: tempt the Lizardman into curiosity, then through persuasiveness and charisma acquire its trust, and from there an in to the maps held by the Lizardmen of the local area. Whether it would work on a beast of this sort was debatable, but nonetheless, there was no harm in trying, surely?

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