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The pests became just that. An annoyance, as they continuously avoid attempts more so than the Goliath had ever expected from such creatures. Small as they were, however, they were cunning bastards, but thankfully, the last rat nearly missed the human soldier Quentin, and Vah'lux visualized it skewered at the end of her blade.

As the rat quickly recovered from its previous failed attack, the towering woman thrust her glaive forward, impaling the creature straight through its large furry body. Her wrist twisted the weapon as the razor sharp blade sliced through tissue and bone as it exited the other side.

With a fluid motion and a primal scream from the Goliath, Vah'lux swung the massive glaive in an overhead arch, slamming the corpse against the burnt ground, before pushing her boots against the lifeless body and pulling the blade out.

"Let this be the last." She growled, holding her weapon vertically, the end embedded into the ground and her statue positioned tall and proud.


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With another of the monstrous rats slain and no more to come, at least not in the blood tinged air of the midday at this moment, it seemed overtly apparent that they were one more victorious. Liberating the farm from the clutches of the wilder things was no chore and these creatures made that leagues apparent. They had wounded the paladin and the monk alike, thankfully no long lasting wounds, but they were still filth ridden creatures and their bites were a threat in that sense all its own. Without a healer as the priest of the temple who they set out for in this task, one could only imagine the destruction even this minor threat could be had the commoners and whatever they scrounged up for weaponry come this way. It would be their bodies littering the pained earth and lying in the disowned field, surely.

The goliath quite likely felt a surge of pride at felling the last rat before anyone could so touch it, the beast killed in expeditious order by the time she had even spoken again. The elf, however, was not quite so impressed as they were still rats after all and worse things wandered these woods. She shuddered at the thought of wolves and what blinding terror that would be, let alone anything from a bear to more arcane creatures. At least their lives were not nearly at stake or that of those more noble creatures and so when she finished plucking her arrows from the ground, she spoke up again.

"If there's this many rats out here and in their burrows, there's bound to be as many and more inside this house, probably tunnels even." She brushed the hair aside from her face and gave a warning glare to the two injured men, then most of all to the last man who was arguably at fault - as far as she saw it - for this particular escapade. Although truthfully, it likely could not have ended all that much better in outcome for them should de Brey not have startled the savage rodents and upset their defense with his reckless behavior.


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The threat was, for the moment, handled and the Elf made a good point. Though these rats had not really presented all that much of a challenge two of them had been slightly wounded, and who could say how many more of the beasts were even now hiding in their burrows, the forests, or as Tracan had said the house itself.

"If there are tunnels," Gorosk said as he wiped the blood from his leg to see how bad the damage truly was, "there could be a horde of those things moving about through these hills. Enough to make it all but impossible to kill them all, likely actually impossible to know when we had killed them all, and equally impossible to stop new rats from moving in."

"Tracan, Vah'lux," Gorosk asked the two members of the party who seemed the most likely to be well versed in the natural world, "any idea why these things might be so focused on this plot of land? Perhaps we should be looking for something, but what?"
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At the sound of the orc speaking up specifically to her, the wild elf now paid him attention. Before she was in her own place, her own thoughts on the matter, only having discerned something about there being more of the rats, which she already assumed to be handedly true. She needed no real convincing internally that this was a futile effort, although now she gave it no more mind until she thought upon the man's question, the words "... any idea why these things might be so focused on this plot of land?"

"Food." Tracan said, her voice unemotional and plain as the day above them, "This entire farm has shelter and most of all, food. They probably came to scavenge the bodies when the raid was over but stayed to feed on the crop."

It was the best guess she had had to go off of but she preferred to frame it as fact. The next bit she had to say, brief as the first, was less certain and just as questioning, "I imagine we'll find more inside and the barn then." Her stare became more intense as she pointed her daggered eyes toward de Brey again before she slung her bow across her chest. Adjusting the string, she drew the steely dagger from her side, the only thing sharper than the scrutinizing she gave the man earlier. She still wasn't pleased about killing the rats but the beasts were making a lingering point.

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Vah’lux returned the human’s nod with a formal salute of her people, bringing a clenched fist to her chest, along with a slight bow. Quentin seemed, more so than the others at times, simultaneously full of the rage and regret, which perhaps fueled his combat prowess. And while the reckless charge did uproot the obscured dire rats, the woman hoped for the human’s sake that it was not his modus operandi.

The weight of the Wild Elf’s judgement on the whole of the situation could be felt by the Goliath, even from a quick glance in her direction. Vah’lux certainly took no pleasure in dispatching such creatures, as they too belong to the world in life as well as in death. However, survival was also key, especially for one from a tribe of pseudo-giant nomads whose existence was slowly dwindling with every moon. As for the creatures who have attacked in a group twice since they arrived, there very well could be more.

The thought of having to return to town, however, even for healing, did not sit well with Vah’lux as they needed to move on. To progress. But, the bite of filthy vermin such as what they experienced could have a long term negative effects if not attended to properly.

Gorosk’s inquiry, however, elicited a response from the Goliath...

“Rats are social creatures, and breed at an exceptional rate if left unchecked.” She started, her husky voice carrying through the breeze, as her keen eyes kept watch for any further threats along the way. “They’ve been around for as long as the world, and adapt quickly to the ever-changing environments. And as humans and other races began populating, so did these creatures find it necessary to change their behavior in order to survive. Essentially, they go where the food, shelter, and warmth is most prevalent. Any other reason would be beyond my knowledge…”

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Despite the rightful wariness she gave, Vah'lux did not see anything at the moment, neither did she hear it. The smell of old burnt wood and the reek of the rats themselves, filthy creatures they were, all were far more distracting than she may well have anticipated. They were pungent, slightly odorous in a rotten way; being this close to them was not welcome and the breeze was the only reprieve she found. The house, or rather the blackened structure of it, was what loomed before her and the rest with her, and it was reasonably as bad if not worse than dealing with the creatures outdoors. Something struck her however and that was the fact her weapon, sizable and deadly as it was, would be tremendously restricted indoors, let alone a tunnel. The latter of which she was keen enough to understand at least let her attack from one direction and well past the heads and shoulders of her allies, but still at penalty as the rats were large for rats but nowhere near the size of men nor goliaths as she.

In the meanwhile, Tracan simmered quietly to herself, her lip chewed in annoyance. She hadn't come marching out here to loose arrows at rats and others get bit by them only to come back again and repeat the process another time. Had the remark been made by anyone else outside of de Brey it may well have been better received. For the time being however, temperamental as she was, she only stewed quietly to herself rather than immediately give in to another outburst. In more and more ways she began to comprehend the resentment elves had for other races but pushed the notion out of her head; she wasn't one of them after all, they shunned her.


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While his compatriots discussed next steps among themslves, Renault had sheathed his blade and slung his shield across his back, giving his arm a welcome respite. Flexing the aching joint of his shoulder in hopes of easing tension, Renault dragged himself stiffly towards the others, ready to engage himself in the discussion.

"Rats breed - and grow - fast. No doubt there's another brood ready to replace this one, likely almost fully-grown." He paused, tongue moving around the inside his mouth in contemplation. "Assuming these ones are fully-grown." He finished, motioning towards the carcasses for emphasis. 'By the gods, the stench' he thought. Had he not known better, he'd have assumed the vermin had been dead-and-rotting for days, not freshly-killed and still warm.

"We'll have to purge the nest." He let the words hang, his expression shifted to one of momentary uncertainty, as if gauging all options in his head before speaking next. "But we've not had food or proper rest in days, some of us, weeks. We're in no state to fight a horde right now."

Though no stranger to battle in his glory days, Renault had the good fortune of avoiding the more harrowing aspects of war. Where legions of men clashed against one another like waves rising and breaking upon themselves. Each crash would take soldiers on either side, leaving corpses strewn across once-green fields. The survivors would crawl back to camp: weary and struck with battlefield panic, heavy-laden with plate and chain mail. But even in those dire straits, the men would be attended to by priests and priestesses alike, weaving spells to mend injuries and cure fatigue.

It was then that Renault began to understand the succinct and simple terror of the Marches. Beyond Reddenbarrow there were no priests to close wounds; no battlefield camp to return to except one they made themselves; no rations sent from the lord's castle to keep the men strong and nourished. It was only them and whatever foul creatures were thrown at them.

An ordinary man might've panicked, turned tail and run back towards civilization without ever looking back. But Renault was long past that point of self-preservation. Even now, at the furthest spiritual point he had ever been from Erithar, the apathetic disregard he had begun to feel for his own life would have made him a martyr to the Order.
Hidden 4 yrs ago 4 yrs ago Post by The Harbinger of Ferocity
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It was true through and through that there was nowhere back from the forsaken land they found themselves marooned in, a little spit of civilization in a vast sea of relentless, restless wilderness. Even the road cut through the fields and the odd wood was far from safe unto itself and if they withdrew now they would well have returned to the town which they launched from, only to find they would need turn around and repeat this process; the rats likely having returned in strength, or worse. If there were beasts as these about, as well as the sizable, knife-tusked boar they had seen prior, undoubtedly those things that consumed these manner of animal would be afoot too, be them beasts as well or worse, monsters.

Able to restrain herself from gagging at the filthiness of the rats, who were living in squalor underground and feeding on the carrion of this stead's land turned battleground, Tracan motioned to the door. She didn't share their concerns for the same reasons, rather the longer they dallied and delayed, the sooner night would come, and she had no intention of hiding in some burned out barn or a rat's barrow to keep alive over the wash of darkness.

"Let's go."

She said nothing more and led them in, soon stepping aside so the men, with heavy armor upon their frames and shields in their hands, could pass her by. As with any elf she was lithe, dexterous, and gracile, but she was far from banking her life on her reflexes and the bite of her dagger to get her through the tight quarters ahead.

Once they moved into the remains of the house, they saw clearly what had taken place here, at least so far as the dire rats had invaded. The floorboards had been gnawed away, a hole dug into the center of the room, the blackened wood furniture torn asunder into bits from grinding teeth, and the precarious bits of roofing hanging in. There was a floor above in the farmhouse, although daring there would be a risk to life and limb in no short order thanks to the long extinguished fire's effects. So too was there probably little of value, the highwaymen and thieves that raided this little homestead all but certainly having taken everything. All else that remained now was the cellar and the tunnel, of which both seemed now interconnected...


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Uncaring of his concerns, Tracan brushed past anything Renault had said with a blunt, "Let's go." Holding back a flash of anger that briefly shone across his features, Renault followed wordlessly, yet with the silent wish that, should any of them be mauled, the Elf would be first. He knew those thoughts were sinful, even spiteful - but though he dedicated ten years of his life to virtue and chivalry, he could not deny his own humanity; the same humanity that took it all away from him.

But Renault also believed that his thoughts were at least partly justified. The Elf had acted consistently unfriendly since they first discovered her presence just a few hours ago. That being said, Renault couldn't exactly blame a lack of courtesy given their shared circumstances.

Returning his mind to the here-and-now, Renault took lead after crossing the threshold once Tracan stepped aside. His face scrunched in disgust at the sight that lay before him. To think it was possible for a burnt, abandoned homestead to look worse. The rats had certainly proven their worth, there.

The most evident sight was the large hole in the center of the floor, clearly chewed into by the bite marks and indents that marred the surrounding floorboards. "I think we found our nest..." Renault declared, voice carrying that sort-of thoughtful tone that made it unclear whether he was speaking to the others, or to himself.

His eyes flickered to the stairs that led to a floor above, with the weighted uncertainty of what may awaited them. "So," he began, turning head to look at them all. "Up or down?"
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It took little time to realize that the burned out structure had more problems than that of a fire, and it seemed the rats they had encountered not only once, but twice, had what could be a nest deep underground. The Goliath surveyed the surrounding area once more, taking note of the gnawed floorboards and most of anything that was left in the way of furnishings. She could certainly feel the tension from the Elf, as her lithe frame passed the Goliath with a resolve that wanted this only to end. But who didn't? There were certainly a few times where the thought of never actually returning crossed the woman's mind. She figured a dozen or so large rats were going to be the least of their troubles.

Vah'lux stepped closer to the gaping mouth of the tunnel, which was not at all inviting to one who spent most of her days above the ground, where one could look up to the heavens as both Kavaki and Manethak graced them with their presence. Underground, however, there was a certain disconnect that was felt from the deities, even though it was untrue, and while the Goliath kept a steadfast outlook in most situations, staring down into the pit of the unknown was not something she hoped for.

"Are we to venture down...there?" The pause was pretty obvious, pointing her glaive toward the tunnel's opening, only to realize one simply fact. She was large as was her main polearm, which meant...

"Ah, time to downsize..." She nodded, slinging the glaive behind her back and adjusting the leather straps to secure it, before pulling out the large hand axe hooked on her waist and taking a few swings from side-to-side. "Small but mighty." She said with a grin to no one in particular.
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"Are we to venture down...there?"

Silently nodding, Tracan conceded that likely was the next place they were to venture. Not that she had any more desire than the rest of them too, of course, but it took de Brey standing at the lip of the tunnel, the goliath behind him flexing her prowess with the axe that had been returned to her, to urge them on. He was fearless in this sense, so far as he had again a purpose. The justice's flaunting of his challenge to honor roiled up furiously inside the lieutenant, burning him with a need to free himself from his problems one way or another, be them with his victory in reclaiming the Marches for their people or his life being given to those ends. All else was irrelevant, just recapturing the glory and nobility he had been denied at the river, even if in an honorable death at the hands of the enemy rather than languish a life branded a "coward".

He turned the steely warhammer over in his palm, one head traded positions with the other and he steadied his nerves from the anger that pushed him so recklessly, "Down."

The soldier replied to his compatriot beside him, providing a nod although his attention not once shifted away from the pit. It did, however, pose a real problem in that it would be dark. Assuming this was truly a rat's nest, and by the odor and its filthy invaders it certainly was, there would be no light there. Some of them would be fine owing to their innate sight within darkness, others not so much. Almost preparing to descend into the metaphorical mouth of the dire rats, de Brey was stopped by the elf who had made this realization, his foot shifting anxiously upon the splintered, gnawed away wood where it met the soil.

"Have any you a torch? A spell for light? Something at all?"

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"I have nothing of the sort," Gorosk replied, "I can see quite well in the dark though. Perhaps I should take point."

Gorosk didn't particularly relish the idea of venturing deeper into this rat's nest. Their imprisonment was over, he did not feel truly duty bound to carry this venture out but he could not abandon the others. Nor did he have anywhere in particular to go. He at least could see in the dark, how much harder must it be for those who would need torchlight to make their way.

"There is plenty of wood to burn, if it is dry enough," Gorosk said looking around the battered stead.
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Nudging a few of the destroyed planks that surrounded them and stepping around the whole, cautious enough to not trip and tumble down it, de Brey began his way toward the back of the ruined house. Its blackened walls of the stones low to it and its cellar below was melancholic, all too familiar of villages razed that he had seen before, but his scouting kept his mind off it. He fumbled around with some of the destroyed furnishings, the ash and soot covering his gauntlets as his armaments and shield spoke against his armor with each movement making it clear where he was even when they could not see him. The search was disappointing and when he returned, he shook his head in his effort's failure.

"Nothing we could use as a torch that I saw." He looked to both Beaumont and Vah'lux after, "Any luck from either of you?"

He ignored the elf for the moment, it being unlikely she had anything to add that would be helpful as far as he was concerned and she likely was not holding out on a torch should she have any. She might not have been friendly to them but he reasonably doubted she would endanger herself, or that an elf would even have a torch in the first place. All too often they were stalking under starry skies or moonlit nights like those that watched over the camps of many a soldier in the interlude between battle, where the anxiety of the next attack in the day to come gripped them.


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Paying close attention to the creaking and cracking of the floorboards under her feet, Vah'lux stepped carefully along the rotted and burned planks of wood, searching for something useful enough to use as the base of a torch. Goliath, by nature, did not have an innate sense of dark vision as many other races, their physical abilities overshadowing just about any other senses. But in this case, traveling into an unknown depth that could potentially be as black as pitch would most certainly require a source of light.

Desperate times...

Spotting a fairly small, but untouched area, the large woman reached down and pulled up on a warped plank of wood that measured close to a meter, inadvertently snapping it in half at it's weakest point as she effortlessly freed it from the floor. What she was left with was a broken piece of wood no longer than her forearm.

"I have...something." She commented, returning to the others with a look of concern for the pitiful shard. "However, I would need a good bit of dry cloth to wrap the top with."
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None of them seemed particularly keen to venture underground and Gorosk did not blame them. He was from eager to jump down into the rat out himself. The tunnels were the rats home, they deeper they ventured the darker and tighter the tunnels would become and the more rank the stench of the air. These were mere matters of comfort though really and much as they might make someone think twice about venturing further the real trouble was the rats themselves. It was difficult to say how many more be crawling through these burrowed dens. A dozen, two dozen, eight dozen? In such cramped quarters they would be difficult to fight.

"Let's get this done," Gorosk said, realizing they had little real choice in the matter, "You can use these for the torch, giantess," he spoke to Vah'lux as he unwound the wraps that covered his fists and held them out to her.

"Unless anyone has any objections, I will take lead."
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Swallowing back the primal fear that had begun to well in the back of his mind, Renault took a shaky breath, steeling his nerves. Something fearful had possessed him while he gazed into that wretched abyss. He was taught in the Order that Men did not fear the dark - but the creatures that dwelt within. 'It is only a godless creature that cannot stand the light', the elder Paladins would declare with conviction. The dawning sun would erase all obscurity, reveal a man for all his intentions.

Long had demons and their ilk used the shadows as refuge, all-but-refusing to act in daylight so long as necessity allowed it. Some argued that their senses had long grown accustomed to darkness, with bright light causing discomfort and disorientation. Others took a more romantic approach, believing that such creatures despised their own countenance, refusing to look upon themselves for fear of shame. But Rats had little sense for shame. They were vermin: plague-born and feasters of refuse.

Perking his ears as the group spoke of a light source, Renault spoke up finally. "I may have something." He knelt to one leg - gingerly to avoid agitating his injury further. Unslinging his shield off his back and to the floor beside him, Renault pulled out his backpack and rummaged about inside for a few moments, muttering to himself. The militia hadn't exactly been gentle with his belongings.

Retrieving a hooded lantern and a flask pint of oil, Renault spared a moment giving the lantern a once-over for any obvious damage. Seeing none, he uncorked the flask and carefully poured it into the lantern, swearing under-breath as his sore, clumsy hands caused him to spill a few drops.

With the lantern sufficiently filled, he returned the now-empty flask to his pack before hoisting the whole thing onto his shoulders. Sniffling once with a stifled cough at the musty air, Renault wrinkled his nose as the strong smell of the oil hit him. Waiting til his breath had properly adjusted, he spoke once more.

"All we need's a small bit of flame to light this, should be six hour's worth."
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It was almost as though de Brey had been awaiting this moment, the man unslinging his own pack and letting it fall to the scarred floor. He to produced the item they so needed, a small rolled set of flint and steel with a few bits of tinder. It took a time to get the flames growing but the small, smoldering pile was delivered to Beaumont for the lantern, sparing Gorosk the loss of his few garments. Seeing the flames cascade brighter the moment the lantern's oil was taken in, it seemed almost silly to be lighting such a thing with daylight just outside and visible through portions of the walls which had gave way.

But the pit before them and its gaping, moist mouth of earth that spewed unto the dried, cracked surface of what once was some poor family's home, that said something else entirely. The hole was death, or so much as it smelled like it, and surely worse awaited them there if that was where all the monstrous rats had been. The two armored men finished their business, leaving the paladin with his glowing prize to attach to his belt; it would be much needed were it truly the dreaded dark. All manner of beast were said to be far more wild, more sinister, more cunning in the dark, illusions of a fearful mind or not.

"Renault should lead, he has the light. I'll keep next to him." The pack was saddled across the fighter's back again as de Brey replied, taking up his weapon from the ground alongside his tarnished shield. Thanking both orc and giantess, he politely declined their offerings for now - the only threat being should the lantern be spilled or destroyed.

Looming over the edge, the elf-woman standing behind him, the soldier pressed on and urged them all forward, "Into the dark, I guess..."


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"I will then take center." Vah'lux nodded after the others, tossing the splintered plank of wood aside and relieved as well that one of the troupe members had a decent lantern to light the way. "I am no Dwarf, and the benefit of light will most surely be needed as close as possible."

Pride in ones abilities had always been something a Goliath did not take for granted, and yet any short comings -such as the lack of low light or dark vision in this case- was simply something that had to be dealt with. Despite her stature and strength, the large tribeswoman was not an army of one, but rather part of a whole, and while in an instance such as what was about to occur, she had to accept help from the group in all its form.

There was, deep in the back of her mind, a twinge of fear however. Not a fear so much of death, as much as of the unknown and even more so, a fear of never again seeing her people. Long had she kept within the mountainous regions of the North, never venturing further than was needed. Living, hunting, training, building, and being at peace within her tribe and community for much of her life. Aside from trading goods and services with nearby Dwarves, Gnomes, and a handful of human settlers along mountainous passages, the "outside world" was something not considered, as Kavaki and Manethak provided whatever else was needed.

But, Vah'lux was far from home, and survival was paramount.

Readjusting the harnesses, buckles and ties on her thick hide armor, and with a deep inhale and exhale of whatever remnant of surface air was left, she followed behind the two human soldiers down into the mouth of darkness. To the unknown.

Kavaki protect us all...
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"Into the dark, indeed." Renault repeated, biting his tongue at the rude things he'd wanted to say to de Bray for volunteering him as lead. He couldn't and wouldn't deny the tense feeling in his gut at the fearful unknown that lay within the pit. Even the most seasoned soldiers felt something similar on the eve before a battle. He remembered the old days: when priests and priestesses of the Order would organize prayer vigils for Paladins sent away on missions. It was a ceremonious affair, and some took to it more than others. All had to put on the face of holy devotion in the Order. After all, they were the religious might of Andallia: moral guardians against the darkness that threatened to encroach just outside the city gates. But politics pressed a heavy hand against the Order, and Renault had wondered if some of his more-cynical fellows even believed in Erithar.

Deciding to waste no further time, Renault prepared to venture in. Upon further inspection, aided by the lantern secured to his hip, Renault saw that the pit was actually a steep tunnel, leading somewhere unknown beneath the ground. The slimy film that coated the walls, coupled with the rotten stench that threatened to expel his breakfast - had he eaten any - made Renault think they were walking into the bowels of some massive, long-dead creature.

Slowly easing himself into the entrance to avoid snagging his gear on the jagged wood that surrounded it, Renault found something of a foothold and was able to move further in. His boots made a revolting squelch sound with every step, sinking into the foul coating. Not wanting to walk into presumably enemy territory unarmed, Renault afeared that his longsword would be disadvantaged in the close, cramped tunnel that forced them all in a single-file line.

Reaching for his other hip, Renault drew his dagger from its sheath. It was a rogue's weapon, somehow more and less deadly than the sword he'd trained with since he was a boy. Renault grimaced at the idea of getting closer than he had to to actually hurt any rats that would inevitably come for them, but he knew it was better than trying to make a clumsy swing and leave himself even more open to one of their gangrenous bites.
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