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The recoil of the strike along Urden's arm told him a lot more than how it looked. That was tougher than most metal armors he could claim to have come across in his career, and while his first thought was to try and use the spike on his axe to breach the hide on the damned thing, its response made it very clear that was not going to be a luxury he was going to have. Given the inhuman movements of its arms, he was about to try and react to the strikes when the flanking spear strike gave him an opening to duck backwards, shifting the grip on his axe. The spike wasn't nearly as good for lightly armored targets, given he had to be much more precise as to where the blow landed, but given the hardy construction of the slaughter doll, even the joints, as Boss shouted out about, wouldn't be easily cleaved off. Next best thing was destroying the joints completely, hopefully.

"Right then, let's do this."

Out of the corner of his eye, Urden registered the warning of additional, smaller dolls moving to assist the slaughter doll. Surrounded, then, that was just fantastic. Still, push came to shove, he'd at least force the doll Witch to have to rebuild this slaughter doll. Even with its inhuman arms, it couldn't defend from all directions, hopefully. Shifting his position to strike from an opposing direction from 'Hector' and aiming a strike right for one of its sword arm joints, putting his typical amount of normally excessive force into the swing. If it was turning to keep him in focus it may very well not end but hell, there wasn't any other option. Not like he could just disengage and go trash small dolls, he'd have to leave those to the others. If it didn't turn to track him, well, then they could see just how aware it was of its surroundings. Either way, they had better odds striking from opposing sides than they did all rushing side by side in this case.
Urden was content to leave diplomacy and discussion to the blue bloods, keeping an eye on the unmoving doll, the one that had likely done the lion's share, pun only mildly intended, of the work inside the cave. The doll Witch, Tabitha as she introduced herself, seemed mostly interested in them not prying further into the tomb itself. What did some all powerful Witch care about some forgotten tomb that had, until recently, entertained little more than corpses and their defilers? No point asking, he figured, not like the Witch would answer that question so readily. Especially given the nudges towards getting them to go back towards the camp. The daemon summoning wasn't lost on him either, he still didn't fancy himself terribly keen on the daemon being around, but he wasn't about to complain either. The moment the Witch began going on about whether or not the assembled Lions really had the means and will to defend the land and its people. Hell, long as Boss kept paying him, he'd follow orders readily enough, but it seemed that his previous thoughts on the slaughter doll were wise, as it launched forward.

Leave it to some fell blooded daemon to be that fast, armor and all, to intercept the slaughter doll. Urden dropped the torch, letting it fall to the ground as he readied his own axe, lunging forward while aiming an overhead strike straight for where the doll was going to be after the clash with the daemon. True to his original musings he planned on putting everything into this strike, either to smash the doll or create an opening for one of his allies to get a blow in. Either way he suspected letting themselves get pushed onto the backfoot would be an exercise in getting slaughtered. Still, despite the danger, the mercenary found the opportunity to bark a remark back at the Steel Princess as the Lions came to blows with the slaughter Doll the Witch had brought with her.

"This better count as hazard pay Boss!"
Urden kept the torch raised high enough to cast plenty of light. From the looks of things, the element of surprise had been put to awful good effect by someone else. He was giving the corpses a visual once over as they moved deeper, the consistent pattern of damage and slaughter on each of the cultists present. It was always the same, decapitation or a clean thrust through the chest. The consistent pattern told him it was likely a single person, and not their resident assassin. She was no doubt good, but he didn't think she was 'clear a tomb on her own' good. Plus the signal for support had indicated that this had to have occurred before she arrived as well. No, this was done by a single, highly effective killer, probably well above the majority of those present. Even among those with similar weapons and training, there would be more variance in how the killing had been done, and given the relative pacing of the dead, they had not been given much time to retreat and regroup again.

"Tell you what, our mystery guest is certainly a cut above the rest, given how little difference there's been in the cause of death."

Urden was speaking to no one in particular, mostly half muttering, half speaking out loud as he voiced his mental train of thought. Of course, the merry band of misfits would find their culprit, well, culprits. Some woman, similar age to Boss, looked like she had...doll features? Doll features, and then the Boss' comment on Witch was, indeed, not just a witch. Tonight just got far more complicated, and rather than ruminate on a being he probably wouldn't get close to without a miracle, his attention turned to the minion instead. He considered it like that since anything living had long since fled. Kept a strange posture, spiderlike, with freshly bloodied blades. There was the culprit, odds were the thing moved erratically but struck surgically, making a conventional fight a fool's errand. If he had to bet his life, and if the Witch decided to not take kindly to their presence in the end he most certainly would, best bet would be throwing everything into a single leading strike. Go on the backfoot, and the limbs and blades would probably leave anyone trying to defend in poor shape indeed. No, in this case, if it came to blows breaking it before it got in a good hit would be his best bet. Great one? No, but it was the best.

"Well, that explains the consistent precision I suppose. I get paid all the same, so I won't look this gift horse in the mouth."

Wasn't his job to do so either, and even Urden had heard of Witches and how they were big trouble whenever they decided to show up. No he would leave the Witch to the Nem's flattery or whatever the noble sand learned folks decided was a smart move. He would just keep ready in case things got weird. Well, as ready as someone could be for the unknown.
"Call it a team building exercise, never know when you'll need to jump in."

Urden found the end of the enemy satisfactory after the thrown cultist was caught mid air, and then lanced clean through. Observing each of his allies in combat spoke volumes alone about the exacting standards Boss had for each of her underlings. Still, it was convenient to have fellows with at least acceptable reflexes. Hefting the axe on his shoulder, he glanced around at the slaughter. That was what it really was, between the bait team's own efforts and the arrival of the ambush team, well, they never really stood a chance. Even if the odds had been uncertain, the unleashed magic had certainly dashed any doubt as to who would be the victor of this first stage of the fighting. True enough, Boss was quick to rally them. First with brief praise, then marching orders. Advance into the camp proper, and put them to sword, axe, and torch. Suited him fine, and he moved himself into the leading edge of the Lions as they entered the camp, ready to engage the first cultist who rushed him, or animated corpse if he was unlucky.

Despite being ready for an attack, nothing came. What struck him as the most odd was the silence. Other than the Lions, there was no noise. They had not dallied long enough to warrant a counter ambush being that ready for them, and they did not strike him as disciplined enough to hold pure silence that readily even if a counter attack was already prepared. It was just nothing except any mutterings among the Lions, their movements, and nothing. Experience was practically screaming all sorts of things weren't right about this, and the Nem began chattering along about the unlikely nature of miracles, after the Boss had commented on this not being right. Seemed like they were in agreement, though, and Urden would source a torch to take point, lifting it to illuminate further ahead of them. It only cast more light on the fresh blood, and he spoke plainly enough in response to the chatter so far. He was actually inclined to agree with the mage, though not for the same reasons.

"Sounds like the smart bet is on the necromancer got desperate, pooled all the meat and magic they had on hand into a last roll of the dice. Probably did just well enough to make something nasty, which just makes our lives that much more interesting. I'll lead, be ready to move when the nasty rotting mess comes barreling out at us."

The faces unsettled him, frankly, but Urden wasn't paid to quiver in his boots or wax philosophical about whatever ugly business was waiting inside. No, he was paid to go hack it to bloody pieces, swing by bloody swing if need be. So, he would take the lead once everyone was ready, or was countermanded by Boss.
Urden was keeping up his pace, engaging each enemy foolish, or unfortunate, enough to end up in his way as he worked through anyone opposed to the Lion's that he could reach. Each swing, step, and movement was preserving momentum as much as he could, wanting to avoid giving openings in enemy's guards. This worked especially well for those that lacked defensive tools like shields, even wielding two weapons was hardly capable of meeting the brute force exerted by a two handed axe designed for just this work. One managed to deflect past a swing, aiming a thrust for the mercenary's ribcage, though a step away averted most of the damage, though he still bleed as readily as anyone else. Snarling, he feinted a swing, and swung low, sweeping the legs out from underneath the offending man and bringing the spiked end of his axe down, puncturing through chain and puncturing vital organs. The din of the fighting was going strong, which meant it was still time to work, and he looked up to see a sturdier looking goon approach, kite shield and arming sword in hand. This should be interesting.

The cultist charged, shield raised, and the mercenary met the shield charge with a heavy handed, almost reckless swing aiming to slam the shield to the side, specifically towards the opponents sword arm to interfere with the impending follow up attack. Splinters flew as the blow damaged the shield, though did not break it, and rather than try and recover against the strike, rolled with it, turning into a fast swipe at Urden's side. A backwards duck caught the strike on his pauldron, deflecting enough to only nick his cheek. Bringing the axe around again, this time he deliberately hooked it against the edge and wrenched sideways, opening up the guard and grabbing the sword arm by the wrist as the cultist went to punish the forced opening. Struggling back and forth for a moment, Urden headbutted the man, the crack resounding clearly to anyone nearby, and sent the cultist staggering back.

A blind swing was aimed at chest height, but Urden had something else in mind, already low enough to avoid the sword swing. Slamming into the man, the mercenary lifted the winded opponent in a running grapple, finding himself charging right towards the Lamia, and grinned as he used the momentum to hurl the shield bearing cultist forward, creating an opening as he shouted an alert towards.... Valmyra, if his memory worked right. Still, the opening would hopefully be ample for a finishing blow, given the unorthodox move.

"Lamia, heads up!"

@AzureKnight
Urden backstepped from an oncoming attack, the blade whizzing close by his chest as he ducked into the opening the swing with, bringing his knee up briskly into the offender's groin, dropping him to his knees for a second blow to send the offending cultist backwards onto their back. An overhead swing would cleanly dispatch the enemy, standing up in time to see the ambush team roll in and begin properly slaughtering the cultists. Music to his ears, as was the sounds of ribs breaking after one hell of a tail whip, but that was a compliment to pay later. Oh no, for now he was working through the enemies one at a time, aiming to disorientate before killing. Each swing aimed to either create an opening or put down an enemy, working through any cult fool within hacking range. Still, he kept his back to allies, no sense getting surrounded without a good reason.
"You'd think, important as they are, they'd be made better..."

Urden took an aimed swing at the base of one such effigy, hacking it down with well placed strikes, and smashing them to pieces with a mix of stomps and axe blows. He was pacing himself as he worked, not wanting to exhaust himself before the fighting even started, and a whistle raised the sixth sense in the back of his head. That was too well timed to be anything but the sound of an alert. Maybe if it hadn't been in immediate response to the desecration of the effigies it would have been more believable as a birdsong or whatever nature people might call it. Still, by the time he was done with the next effigy, the necromancer's lackies finally decided to reveal themselves, going to surround them. Normally that might be a problem, but in this case that just made it harder for them to react to the impending ambush. Hefting his axe, and eyeing the nearest of the skull masked warriors. Scare tactics, useful against anyone who wasn't professional enough to keep moral, armor looked like a mix of leather and metal depending, not enough metal to warrant opening with the spike of his axe.

"Right, time to earn my coin, come have a go if you think you have a chance. Each of your heads is worth the same to me."

Urden made his move on the nearest of the masked goons, meeting the opening strike with a sideways swipe, using the axehead to bat the sword thrust away, snapping the other end upwards to crack the masked warrior alongside the head, to stun and create an extra opening. A second fast strike with the axe blade rended leather armor and dug deep into the side of the enemy. Ripping the axe clear, he roared as he brought the axe around and down, splitting the head of the masked warrior, and the mask too, sending the now corpse crashing to the ground. One down, plenty to go, and the mercenary would turn to meet the next threat, ready to adapt to the situation at hand. Otherwise, right now it was a good old fashioned brawl, the kind that ended with a lot of bloody, messy kills. Even better, the more attention he gathered, the more off guard the goons would be when the time came to be ambushed.
"Annoying the rich and privileged is an amusing past time if your bored, plus you can learn a lot from someone who's annoyed."

Urden found some amusement in the rebuttal and pouting remarks, though frankly, if someone got so foul tempered over a mistaken name, well, was it really that much of a consideration to even afford them? Still, the lamia's general depressive state over getting a name wrong spoke plenty of volume in and of itself about her temperament, at the very least spoke volumes about concern over not alienating herself from others, enough so that such a minor misstep could leave her in a poor mood indeed. But hell, who was he to judge, up until this job he had considered himself lucky to get any sort of recognition beyond merc or sellsword. Or, sellaxe in his case? Nah, didn't have the same ring to it, not really. He felt some pull to offer genuine advice instead of just poking fun and mockery alone, so after she also made the decision to go where she was ordered instead of simply picking for herself, he did offer one bit of earnest food for thought.

"Chin up though, anyone worth the time won't get so blindly irate over getting a name wrong. If they do, well, not exactly the kind of company worth keeping with skin that thin."




The worst part of a job like this was the waiting. Urden shared the sentiment with many soldiers, he knew that much, but whatever gods felt like listening was it tedious. Fighting was usually quick and brutal, celebrations too short and often too dry for his tastes, but all the waiting could drive someone mad. Wait for everyone to be in position, wait for the signal, wait for the enemy to strike, wait wait wait. Hurry up and bloody wait. He was with the group baiting the necromancer and goons into an ill advised, fanatical attack on the would be 'do gooders' trying to put down a vile practice without proper manpower and a blatant lack of self preservation. He was the hired muscle there to show a lack of coordination, near as he understood the plan. Granted, plans meant a whole lot when they didn't go off right, but he still got to put some, frankly, hideously designed effigies down hard enough to return to their base components. That was a win in his book if nothing else. Even better, an axe worked wonders for demolition in this case, and he shouldered it, taking comfort and confidence in its familiar weight and balance.

"Right, give the word and let's start smashing these ugly things to pieces."

@AzureKnight@VitaVitaAR
"And here I thought this evening was going to be boring..."

Urden wasn't much of one to comment on tactics and grand strategy, mostly since he wasn't paid to in this case, but the disagreements and discussion seemed to have led to a new plan. New plan was simple enough. One group, smash the idols and bait the corpse defilers into coming out to play a game of catch the vandal. Then the other group would come down on them like the wrath of the gods, if one put sufficient gravitas into such things. Figure they cared so much, they could have intervened already, but he wasn't about to spark a religious debate before heading off to battle. No, seemed like the Lions were being given a chance to pick their roles with final discretion to the Boss herself. Not a bad way to pick out companion's dispositions in regards to conflict, which gave him plenty to consider since others had chimed in so far before him.

Merchant was haggling with Ms. Daggers over poisons and such. Not much use for those in his line of work, if an axe to the torso didn't kill, you kept on trying. Still, can't fault the planning ahead. A mortal stab wound is already hard enough to focus past, add in something nasty chewing through you and its even worse. He hadn't done much shopping as of yet, he didn't need supplies and was frugal with his coin, not frittering it away on niceties and luxuries beyond boozing in taverns and alehouses. Every man had his vice, though on the war path he was cautious to drink, never knew when trouble would come knocking. Or tearing through a tent flap, screaming bloody murder. Since the Merchant was intent on coming along, well, that made the bait team that much more appetizing, and that was before the smashing of ritual idols was factored in. Whoever was on the bait and raid team would have a real good time, he might just wager.

'Hector', as the Lamia had so keenly gotten wrong, was next to chime in. Volunteered for ambush duty, figured. Cavalry types were all the same, regardless of the mount. Had the coin for arms, armor, and supplies to maintain that much of a standing, they always went for the glorious charge, the route and shattering of groups. Paid better too, but he couldn't ride a donkey to save his life, let alone the bloody big bird. No leave the whole 'noble art' of riding to those who could afford to armor both themselves and their steeds, replacing those had to get expensive quickly. Still, having bird man and his pet pigeon in the wings, pun intended, wasn't going to be unwelcome. Especially if something unexpectedly nasty decides to come barreling down on them. Still, he leaned over to the Lamia who had gotten Roger's name wrong, metaphorically ribbing her over the misstep.

"Y'know, since you mentioned it, Roger really does look like a 'Hector', doesn't he? Maybe you should go suggest it as a permanent change? Might just make his week."

The Boy Wonder tasked Istvan with gathering who he wanted for a raiding party, and then deferred to staying in his usual 'ward'. Typical, sending out the competent ones to do the heavy lifting, and then sitting back. Well, not quite sitting back, no one had that luxury, but tasking others before they had a chance to chime in, just rude really. At least pay the poor sod before barking orders. As for Sharp Ears, well, what a surprise the wood elf chose the ambush party. Terse and to the point though, credit where credit was due there. That he could work with, and long as he didn't offend ol' Sharpy there too much he'd be fine. Might want to see how he shoots first though, but they'd have plenty of time for that in the coming battle. He spoke up finally, as casual and relaxed as ever.

"Put me where you want me Boss, I ain't got a preference. No sense mucking up that grand strategy you got brewing in that head of yours, eh?"

@AzureKnight @VitaVitaAR
"So they aren't using the corpses in raids. If I was a betting man, I'd wager they are throwing bodies at whatever they are looking for. Dead don't get tired, far as I assume."

Urden was considering the brief so far, and the plan was quite the simple one, which left little to go wrong. Bait an ambush from the necromancer's minions, slaughter enough of them to route, and pursue them into whatever camp and holes they hid in. From there? Butcher them all, ideally with the necromancer long dead to an assassin's blade. Sounded like a good night's work to him, regardless of the damn fool nature of bringing a merchant along. It would end up selling the illusion of not being a trap, after all, who would bring a merchant along for an intended assault? Still, back with the archers was safe, plenty of time to run if things went truly sideways. Well, least as far as those short legs could manage. Reasonable enough plan, hell, if it all went smoothly he'd get his pay today without having to hack apart the too many corpses, into enough pieces they stopped fighting back. He knew he would be in the frontline crush of the fight, which suited him just fine. No hazard pay would be present, not with work like this, but it was the best place to find it all the same.

"So, any chance we'll have a rough idea where their attack will come from Boss? I figure we'll want the vanguard folks like me ready and waiting to meet the raid with extreme violence."

Odds were they would have a fair spread of the best of the best throughout the lead elements, to hold the line against the raid as it came in on the bait convoy, but Urden had a feeling there would be need for his special brand of axe work. Holding long enough for the ambush to play out proper was what would be needed. The mercenary had gotten back on his feet to look over the map and plan, speaking to the princess in a fairly cavalier manner compared to some, though he always addressed his employers as Boss, it was just the nature of things. At the moment he hadn't much else to say to the others present so far, fortunately the merchant wasn't going to need an escort. That would have been an easy job though, stand back and hack down anything lucky enough to get close to the archers and merchant. Wouldn't have gotten him anywhere quick though, all the more reason to stay at the front where he worked best. Still, that all depended on what the Princess had to say.
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