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ChrysAn-Hasst had been busy trying to evaluate which one of the apparently many rogs rapidly approaching them to tackle with first when the sudden noise of the collapse forced him to pay attention. Detecting the cause of it once his head was turned around was horrifyingly easy. It was the moment when the Skayleigh instantaneously regretted having gone for the rather short bajonets instead of his crossbow. The latter item would have made employing a quick and much more efficient approach literally aiming for the troll's head much more easier. Now he found himself thinking about trying to jump at the ugly creature's neck and gut the hell out of it, but again this thought was interrupted by a roar. A were-roar. How cute! And not really surprising after all if one had listened closely. Still it was an impressive sight, almost the height of himself. Maybe it was best if Ursaren dealt with that troll why they busied themselves keeping the trash off of him.
That didn't change much about his own problems though. While the Skayleigh combined the enormity of a monstrous heap of muscle with the aspect of being lithe and thereby could theoretically be considered a very dangeorus combination of his own, he couldn't add a real soldier's experience to the equation. Despite the ongoing conflict on the Kaelic island this wasn't exactly a tradition among his family. They were woodcutters, even though quite prominent ones.
Several things happened at the same time then. It took An-Hasst almost as much additional time to realize what Alice had done as the woman's action had given to him until the Rogs had come very uncomfortably close to him. Still he found this to be very benign effect as slower enemies were better enemies in general. He wasn't so sure about what this other, new woman was pulling off though. Even in masses: To what degree where ordinary flies capable of killing an armored Rog ? Weren't it the maggots who did all the trick with eating the dead bodies ? And weren't they doing this at a speed far too slow for a combat, even in masses ? If he approached those affected by this... goo... They'd disturb his sight as well!
So far he had seen more people dealing with some fancy magic than with anything actually lethal. It only meant that he and the others would have to deal with more of the really ugly stuff. He turned his view to Settionne and the filth-in-a-jar woman. Whatever the priest was doing it didn't look like it was putting up a good defense fight for him. The small man had apparently opted for hiding behind everyone else, but what if the rogs would make use of the maze of streets and rubble and a portion of them went around them ? The moment they'd be surrounded by them the concept of 'behind everyone else' would cease to exist, so better to make one's stand closer to the two.
It was a slow and fighting 'retreat' though. The first rog slammed his serrated blade onto the Skayleigh's thick wooden armor. There wasn't as much as a splinter, but the danger was that one time the creature, despite all its blind savagery, would find the right way of lifting them and ramming the point into the leather below them. Neither was An-Hasst currently really aware of this bit of his mostly theoretical knowledge, nor had he much of an opportunity to take counter-measures. He was far too busy with trying to make the best out of the bajonets and land hits where there appeared to be weak areas, an effort which quickly covered his armor in blood and his face in speckles of it. Frankly he quickly developed into something with striking similarity to the Rogs: A ferocious humanoid who basically was going berzerk, pushing his physical prowess up to the point where he just literally jumped at his enemy, kicked and weighed him down onto the floor with his armored feet and bashed his head until he could hear a -- at this point eeriely satisfying -- cracking noise.
Of course that didn't stop the next Rog from coming for him. In fact he did so while the Skayleigh was executing the last bit of his maneuver during which the cracking noise occured. An-Hasst's enormous height now acted against him as the Rog could hardly do anything else than letting his ugly blade push its point along the back portion of his armor in a very sharp angle. The sturdy leather slowed its approach, but still a surge of pain emanated from somewhere close to his shoulder. Those members of the party close to the location would possibly would be able to hear a very angry scream distinguishable from those of the Rogs. Enfuriated the Skayleigh twisted around, one of his arms now almost dangling from his shoulder, but the other one hitting the Rog's neck from the side. The blade cut into it, disrupting the blood flow and making his enemy slowly descend onto the ground. Still he'd probably have to get out of here very soon...
@POOHEAD189@The Fated Fallen@Sypherkhode822@Banana@BCTheEntity
That didn't change much about his own problems though. While the Skayleigh combined the enormity of a monstrous heap of muscle with the aspect of being lithe and thereby could theoretically be considered a very dangeorus combination of his own, he couldn't add a real soldier's experience to the equation. Despite the ongoing conflict on the Kaelic island this wasn't exactly a tradition among his family. They were woodcutters, even though quite prominent ones.
Several things happened at the same time then. It took An-Hasst almost as much additional time to realize what Alice had done as the woman's action had given to him until the Rogs had come very uncomfortably close to him. Still he found this to be very benign effect as slower enemies were better enemies in general. He wasn't so sure about what this other, new woman was pulling off though. Even in masses: To what degree where ordinary flies capable of killing an armored Rog ? Weren't it the maggots who did all the trick with eating the dead bodies ? And weren't they doing this at a speed far too slow for a combat, even in masses ? If he approached those affected by this... goo... They'd disturb his sight as well!
So far he had seen more people dealing with some fancy magic than with anything actually lethal. It only meant that he and the others would have to deal with more of the really ugly stuff. He turned his view to Settionne and the filth-in-a-jar woman. Whatever the priest was doing it didn't look like it was putting up a good defense fight for him. The small man had apparently opted for hiding behind everyone else, but what if the rogs would make use of the maze of streets and rubble and a portion of them went around them ? The moment they'd be surrounded by them the concept of 'behind everyone else' would cease to exist, so better to make one's stand closer to the two.
It was a slow and fighting 'retreat' though. The first rog slammed his serrated blade onto the Skayleigh's thick wooden armor. There wasn't as much as a splinter, but the danger was that one time the creature, despite all its blind savagery, would find the right way of lifting them and ramming the point into the leather below them. Neither was An-Hasst currently really aware of this bit of his mostly theoretical knowledge, nor had he much of an opportunity to take counter-measures. He was far too busy with trying to make the best out of the bajonets and land hits where there appeared to be weak areas, an effort which quickly covered his armor in blood and his face in speckles of it. Frankly he quickly developed into something with striking similarity to the Rogs: A ferocious humanoid who basically was going berzerk, pushing his physical prowess up to the point where he just literally jumped at his enemy, kicked and weighed him down onto the floor with his armored feet and bashed his head until he could hear a -- at this point eeriely satisfying -- cracking noise.
Of course that didn't stop the next Rog from coming for him. In fact he did so while the Skayleigh was executing the last bit of his maneuver during which the cracking noise occured. An-Hasst's enormous height now acted against him as the Rog could hardly do anything else than letting his ugly blade push its point along the back portion of his armor in a very sharp angle. The sturdy leather slowed its approach, but still a surge of pain emanated from somewhere close to his shoulder. Those members of the party close to the location would possibly would be able to hear a very angry scream distinguishable from those of the Rogs. Enfuriated the Skayleigh twisted around, one of his arms now almost dangling from his shoulder, but the other one hitting the Rog's neck from the side. The blade cut into it, disrupting the blood flow and making his enemy slowly descend onto the ground. Still he'd probably have to get out of here very soon...
@POOHEAD189@The Fated Fallen@Sypherkhode822@Banana@BCTheEntity