There was a moment while Ahnasha was scouting ahead where Fendros paused to look over at the man he had shot. For some reason he didn't feel so apprehensive about it this time. He had a lot of time to think about the event with the drug smugglers, and while he still didn't like the prospect of killing, he couldn't help but think that in this case, these people knew the risks they were taking. Dying to a werewolf was probably how they expected to die.
The group ahead sounded large, but with their approach so far, it was still in the pack's favour. They charged, indeed the hunters looked like they were sitting down to dinner when they were fallen upon. Most of them were dressed much the same as the lookouts; furs and leathers. It was reminiscent of bandits. Or another pack, Fendros thought.
Lorag was the first to strike, Janius flung a bolt of fire to another before cutting at the man's arm and neck with an axe. Runt shot past them both straight into the next one, jumping onto him and tearing his neck open with her teeth before he could pull his sword halfway out of its scabbard. Barely a moment had passed and already half of their number had fallen. The rest armed themselves as best as they could.
Fendros picked his target as the one who had scrambled to pick up his crossbow from a table, Fendros loosed an arrow at the Breton man in a rush and landed it in his arm just before he could aim, causing him to shoot wildly up towards the ceiling. His target disabled for now, Fendros pulled out another arrow and tried to aim at an Altmer, who had reciprocated his attention. At the last moment, Fendros ducked as a shard of ice flew over his head and shattered on the wall behind him. Fendros stood and shot properly, but his arrow was slowed to ineffectiveness by a ward that the Altmer mage put up.
There was one left on the right of the room who had managed to pick up his spear, a Redguard man. He was backed against the wall by Sabine and Janius, who could not rush him without risk of being impaled. A few precious seconds passed before Janius decided to cast an arc of fire over the man to confuse and burn him. He then followed through by stepping in shield-first to deflect the spear and winding him by driving the shaft of his axe against the man's stomach, before arcing his axe around and onto the man's head. The Redguard was able to raise his spear shaft at the last moment to block Janius' blow, but Janius was able to hook his axe blade around the spear and pull it down low enough to find the man's neck. A force against his back caused Janius to spin around from his last opponent and hold his shield out in front of him. Someone had shot an arrow that deflected off his cuirass at an angle, and a bow wielding Bosmer across the room appeared responsible.
Sabine scanned around quickly, before running headlong towards a Nord wielding a two-handed battleaxe. The Nord was taken slightly off guard by Sabine's speed, even for a werewolf, but she still had to sidestep from her charge in order to avoid the arc down of the Nord's axe. She bounced back and scratched at the Nord's arm, giving him a flesh wound but evidently not stopping him, before she suffered a searing blow from her side from an Imperial's silver longsword. She jumped back a few paces to try and properly assess the situation before trying to attack again.
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Let Slip the Corgis of War
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Dear Mr Curly,
I have done little travelling lately because I have been so dreadfully weary. Can it be true as the old Ecclesiastes said; that all things lead to weariness? Surely not. Perhaps the opposite is true: that all nothings lead to weariness. I have a peculiar feeling, Curly, that I am worn out from something I haven't yet done and the more I don't do it, the more exhausted I become. How strange. Could it be something I haven't realised? Perhaps it's something I haven't said? Something I haven't finished! It must be very large and true whatever it is and a lively struggle in the doing but I look forward to it immensely. I know I need it. First, however, I must curl up in my chair and sleep deeply with the duck. Perhaps I'll dream of this thing and wake up refreshed and do it. My fond wishes to you Mr. Curly, and to all Curly Flat.
Yours sleepily,
Vasco Pyjama
xxx
P.S. Not having breakfast can make you weary. That's for sure!
Most Recent Posts
Name: Leopold Thiel
Age: 27
Race: Not even he is sure.
Gender: Male
Sexuality: "Really? It's not bloody dogs if that's what you're asking."
Class: Doctor
Appearance: A human with a dog's head and a thin coating of stiff grey fur over his body. He has a light, sinewy build.
Weapon(s): A quarterstaff, a light crossbow and a quiver of bolts. He is deceptively skilled with these weapons, but prefers to let fights come to him rather than provoking them.
Armour: Leo wears flaxen long sleeved shirt and trousers, a thick leather jerkin inset with metal rings for protection, a leather belt with a knife in a sheath and a pair of leather buckled boots. His clothing has remained simple as he maintains it himself and fashion has never been a priority for him. When it is cold, he wears a green woollen cloak with a cowl. He also carries a knapsack over his shoulders containing various supplies and belongings.
Personal Trinkets: A small surgeon’s kit, with required tools and materials, as well as magical components for other methods of healing. He tends to keep this kit close and in his bag most of the time as they were hard to obtain. Also, a pipe with the relevant accessories.
Short History:
Leopold tends to not elaborate on his past. What people have teased out of him over drinks is that he was the son of a sorceress and a courtier. How such a match was made is anyone's guess, but they were both human. In fact, Leo was born a human child, and changed into something resembling a dog over the space of two painful months. He became what he is by circumstances unexplained, but it occurred early in his life and defined him ever since. No wizards or wisemen could work it out or cure him. It was his very own inexplicable curse. Needless to say he was ostracised by his peers and developed a callous exterior, with layers of black humour and a sad filling. Nevertheless, he was raised with the drive for answers, eventually studying diligently into human anatomy and the techniques of healing wounds and diseases, all in search for a cure to make him normal again. In the process he became a skilled healer in many facets of the discipline, but had yet to find much in the way of clues as to his curse. Where he is not outright rejected in his travels, he has offered his services on many occasions, saving lives for coin.
Unwise leads and goose-chases in his travels had ultimately driven him to the Drakenwald in search for certain fae that might hold knowledge of his curse. It wasn't much, but it was something. It was unfortunate, then, that he had decided to wander into the edge of the wood where a group of bandits had decided to make their encampment. He ran as fast as he could into the trees, but he was noticed. His lapse in stealth resulted in him suffering an arrow through his arm. He could still run though, and run he did. He ran so fast that he thought he had lost the bandits, but too late did he realise that the bandits had intentionally broken off, not wanting to follow him too far into the cursed Drakenwald. He treated his wound as best as he could, but had neither the energy nor the resources to heal it completely. It was days upon days of wandering after that, he lost track of it all by the time he spotted a building through the trees.
Other: Despite being prickly, Leo is uncannily empathetic. He seems to read people like books.
Age: 27
Race: Not even he is sure.
Gender: Male
Sexuality: "Really? It's not bloody dogs if that's what you're asking."
Class: Doctor
Appearance: A human with a dog's head and a thin coating of stiff grey fur over his body. He has a light, sinewy build.
Weapon(s): A quarterstaff, a light crossbow and a quiver of bolts. He is deceptively skilled with these weapons, but prefers to let fights come to him rather than provoking them.
Armour: Leo wears flaxen long sleeved shirt and trousers, a thick leather jerkin inset with metal rings for protection, a leather belt with a knife in a sheath and a pair of leather buckled boots. His clothing has remained simple as he maintains it himself and fashion has never been a priority for him. When it is cold, he wears a green woollen cloak with a cowl. He also carries a knapsack over his shoulders containing various supplies and belongings.
Personal Trinkets: A small surgeon’s kit, with required tools and materials, as well as magical components for other methods of healing. He tends to keep this kit close and in his bag most of the time as they were hard to obtain. Also, a pipe with the relevant accessories.
Short History:
Leopold tends to not elaborate on his past. What people have teased out of him over drinks is that he was the son of a sorceress and a courtier. How such a match was made is anyone's guess, but they were both human. In fact, Leo was born a human child, and changed into something resembling a dog over the space of two painful months. He became what he is by circumstances unexplained, but it occurred early in his life and defined him ever since. No wizards or wisemen could work it out or cure him. It was his very own inexplicable curse. Needless to say he was ostracised by his peers and developed a callous exterior, with layers of black humour and a sad filling. Nevertheless, he was raised with the drive for answers, eventually studying diligently into human anatomy and the techniques of healing wounds and diseases, all in search for a cure to make him normal again. In the process he became a skilled healer in many facets of the discipline, but had yet to find much in the way of clues as to his curse. Where he is not outright rejected in his travels, he has offered his services on many occasions, saving lives for coin.
Unwise leads and goose-chases in his travels had ultimately driven him to the Drakenwald in search for certain fae that might hold knowledge of his curse. It wasn't much, but it was something. It was unfortunate, then, that he had decided to wander into the edge of the wood where a group of bandits had decided to make their encampment. He ran as fast as he could into the trees, but he was noticed. His lapse in stealth resulted in him suffering an arrow through his arm. He could still run though, and run he did. He ran so fast that he thought he had lost the bandits, but too late did he realise that the bandits had intentionally broken off, not wanting to follow him too far into the cursed Drakenwald. He treated his wound as best as he could, but had neither the energy nor the resources to heal it completely. It was days upon days of wandering after that, he lost track of it all by the time he spotted a building through the trees.
Other: Despite being prickly, Leo is uncannily empathetic. He seems to read people like books.
Leo propped his head up, one of the patrons had approached with the poker as requested. Thank goodness. It was some fresh-faced warrior, sword on the hip. Good, that meant he might be used to the blood. He was a little hesitant though, not a good sign.
"Unpleasant? You think I wouldn't know? Hurry up, you fool!" Leo shouted to the man.
As the poker approached, Leo bared his teeth and scrunched his eyes shut. The pain was something fierce, causing him to tense up his good arm and suppress a full blown painful shout into a protracted grunt through his teeth. The man wasted no more time, thankfully. It was over before he realised. Leo lay and breathed heavily for a good half a minute. The smell was one he wished was not familiar, it was a necessary smell. His arm was so sore he could hardly feel it, but it had been saved for now. Now he just needed to bandage it, set a poultice over it ideally.
When he got the energy to open his eyes again, Leo couldn't see the man who had cauterised him. Pah, the man must have just been a closet sadist or something, didn't want to own up for saving a life. "Dwarf..." Leo mumbled to the dwarf who had been cleaning his wounds. Now that Leo was a bit more awake, he could see the he wore a leather apron and had strong looking arms, maybe a smith? It could be worse. "... I need you to dress my wound. In my bag, there are a few clean bandages left... use them... wrap them tight..." It was then that Leo realised that his shirt sleeve had been cut off to access the wound, but at least they didn't cut at his jerkin.
The dwarf, who seemed rather quiet, nodded and complied. He was rather considerate, given the circumstances. More consideration than Leo normally got. After the dwarf tied the white bandage up, Leo tried to slowly sit up and get his bearings. He was exhausted, that much was clear. The inn was indeed real, against all probability. There were a number of different kind of people scattered about the room. Scanning around, he spotted an elf man nervously thumbing at the small spear he had set on his table, a couple of women on their own table, one in leather, another in a dress, another dwarf cheerfully dressed in a cloak at the doorway, and the young warrior who helped him, who was looking rather pale back at his own table.
"Oi, you there!" Leo directed to the warrior, before waving the man over with his right hand. Leo held his head low, so tired, at least he could buy the man a drink before he passed out completely. "Get over here, I won't bite you."
"Unpleasant? You think I wouldn't know? Hurry up, you fool!" Leo shouted to the man.
As the poker approached, Leo bared his teeth and scrunched his eyes shut. The pain was something fierce, causing him to tense up his good arm and suppress a full blown painful shout into a protracted grunt through his teeth. The man wasted no more time, thankfully. It was over before he realised. Leo lay and breathed heavily for a good half a minute. The smell was one he wished was not familiar, it was a necessary smell. His arm was so sore he could hardly feel it, but it had been saved for now. Now he just needed to bandage it, set a poultice over it ideally.
When he got the energy to open his eyes again, Leo couldn't see the man who had cauterised him. Pah, the man must have just been a closet sadist or something, didn't want to own up for saving a life. "Dwarf..." Leo mumbled to the dwarf who had been cleaning his wounds. Now that Leo was a bit more awake, he could see the he wore a leather apron and had strong looking arms, maybe a smith? It could be worse. "... I need you to dress my wound. In my bag, there are a few clean bandages left... use them... wrap them tight..." It was then that Leo realised that his shirt sleeve had been cut off to access the wound, but at least they didn't cut at his jerkin.
The dwarf, who seemed rather quiet, nodded and complied. He was rather considerate, given the circumstances. More consideration than Leo normally got. After the dwarf tied the white bandage up, Leo tried to slowly sit up and get his bearings. He was exhausted, that much was clear. The inn was indeed real, against all probability. There were a number of different kind of people scattered about the room. Scanning around, he spotted an elf man nervously thumbing at the small spear he had set on his table, a couple of women on their own table, one in leather, another in a dress, another dwarf cheerfully dressed in a cloak at the doorway, and the young warrior who helped him, who was looking rather pale back at his own table.
"Oi, you there!" Leo directed to the warrior, before waving the man over with his right hand. Leo held his head low, so tired, at least he could buy the man a drink before he passed out completely. "Get over here, I won't bite you."
Taking out his bow and readying an arrow, Fendros crept through the entrance to the cave beside Ahansha. Being aware to look for them, he carefully avoided the various tripwires and other mechanisms set up to alert the occupants of intruders. He was glad for the muffle spell that Meesei had cast over them, because everything down to the smallest loose rock made a sound within the cave. I would have to be a mouse to sneak up on anything, Fendros thought.
By the time they saw their first enemies, they had yet to be spotted. Before joining Ahansha to aim for the lookouts, Fendros quickly took out the marksmanship potion that Runt had prepared and drank it down. It tasted of truffles and juniper, rich, but not the worst concoction he had ever had. Within a moment, he felt a sharpness in his mind, a new sureness. It made his hands steadier and his aim more confident as he pulled back an arrow and directed it to the hunter lookout on the left. He didn't know how long the potion would last, but he would take no chances in this pivotal point.
"3... 2... 1..." Fendros whispered almost silently. The lookouts craned their heads to the small sound ahead, but couldn't discern it before Fendros loosed his arrow straight into the neck of his target. With a shocked look, the hunter choked and slumped off his chair onto the ground. Hopefully the fall did not cause too much sound.
By the time they saw their first enemies, they had yet to be spotted. Before joining Ahansha to aim for the lookouts, Fendros quickly took out the marksmanship potion that Runt had prepared and drank it down. It tasted of truffles and juniper, rich, but not the worst concoction he had ever had. Within a moment, he felt a sharpness in his mind, a new sureness. It made his hands steadier and his aim more confident as he pulled back an arrow and directed it to the hunter lookout on the left. He didn't know how long the potion would last, but he would take no chances in this pivotal point.
"3... 2... 1..." Fendros whispered almost silently. The lookouts craned their heads to the small sound ahead, but couldn't discern it before Fendros loosed his arrow straight into the neck of his target. With a shocked look, the hunter choked and slumped off his chair onto the ground. Hopefully the fall did not cause too much sound.
Forsythe said
*hands trembling* Dat GTD Orion in your sig Muttonhawk. *greets the kindred spirit*
:D This rotating sig is getting more shoutouts than I thought. Hello there fellow Alpha 1!
It was all blurry, why does it have to be all blurry? Why did his eyes have to put some kind of artistic skew on the repetitive and gloomy forest? Did they get bored? Leopold's idle musings were something that he had tried to keep himself sane with. Quips against the various pains and aches as if they were spoiled children somehow made him feel a little better about his situation. That is, until the forest finds another reason for him to become bitter, such as the inconsequential light-brown shape that quickly turned into a tree root as his sluggish feet tripped over it. Leo opened his eyes angrily while lying prone. He was convinced that this was the epicentre of everything in the world that was out to get him at this point.
The symptom of the day was dehydration. He'd been lucky enough to find a clear stream several days ago, but the one he found this morning had obviously been still for too long, and had something in it which his stomach rejected. For the entire rest of the day his coordination was suffering and his eyes remained unfocussed. It didn't help that he hadn't anything to eat for an even longer time. Foraging was proving as successful as finding a way out of this hellhole. He could barely bother hunting. He tried to get up and winced as weight was put on his left arm. He couldn't let the wound open again, not with how little water he had. If he lost any more blood, he would faint and might not wake up.
How many days has it been? Leopold tried to remember in vain as he continued on. If only he could find some game to shoot, some water to drink, he could regain his energies and properly heal his wound. The only thing he could manage in this state was a spell that kept it from festering and a few dirty sutures, but it would take something stronger to disinfect it properly. "A spirit. A spirit to drink after pouring some on my wound..." he grumbled through a dry throat, "why the hell aren't there more inns in the for-"
Leopold halted in his tracks, his mouth open slightly. He had a look about him of utter disbelief. "No... Surely not." A short distance ahead, as if by some cruel trick, Leo spotted a large building in the distance. The sign out the front indicated that it was an inn. An inn, in a clearing, in the middle of a cursed forest. Leo was certain that the lack of water and food had finally got to his brain. He took one step, then another, then another, until he began to walk with a purpose again. He no longer cared that it was probably a trick of the mind. If he was going to give up all hope, he would give up what hope he had fabricated in his dying moments. As he got faster, his arm began to hurt again, he held it to his chest as he strode. He could notice his breathing becoming more tired and desperate. He was so lost in it that he broke into a jog as his second and final wind came over him. He was angry that it would come to his. He was furious that he was going to die starved and lost. After how far he had gone, he wanted to look the grim reaper in the face and punch his bony jaw off for the lack of justice in the world.
The jog quickened into a stumbling run when he reached the clearing. The staff was more weight than needed, he threw it down onto the path. Snarling and gnashing his teeth, he felt his wound start to bleed again. He was close to the door of the inn now, its details blurred around him, if being a little clearer right in the centre of his vision. He burst through the door, it felt so real that he could feel the cool of the doorknob, the hardness of the wood. The door gave way to the scent of home, of cooking, of stale drink and smoke. Fuzzy outlines of people beheld him, but he wasn't bothered. He spotted a bar and stomped towards it. He could hear pattering of blood dripping on the floor as he marched with bared teeth. One of the people was in his way, with his right hand he shoved the stranger to one side and proceeded to the bar. Slamming his palm onto the bar top, Leo's eyes darted around with his head angled forward and his back slouched, he was still breathing and bleeding heavily. The black dried blood that had soaked into his shirt was being revitalised with new blood. "A spirit! I need a spirit!" he shouted between breaths, "Any other bar... would be more forthcoming... when a man... has a wound to disinfect!"
It was then the Leo felt a stinging on his hand where he had hit it against the bar top. He raised it and looked at it as it throbbed with pain. This place was real... this place...
Leo's legs gave out from under him and he collapsed. Barely conscious, he stared up at the ceiling. Perhaps his mind wouldn't let him die without hope. With a sense of peace, his world turned spun and turned black.
Moments passed. A sharp pain ran through Leo's arm. In response, he scrunched his eyes and yelped in pain. Too weak to react further, he slowly opened his eyes and tried to regain his faculties. He still felt delirious, the hallucination of the inn wasn't helping at all. They seemed to have propped him onto a table, judging by the ceiling being closer and the texture of the surface he lay on. His wounded left arm felt cold. He lolled his head to one side and saw a greying dwarf man dabbing at it with a red-stained cloth. In the dwarf's other hand, he held a green bottle of what Leo could only assume to be an alcoholic spirit, though it might have been a potion of healing liquid if he was lucky. As the man noticed him wake, he put down the bottle and grabbed a water skin from nearby. Awkwardly, he held it to Leo's mouth to try and get him to drink. Leo, too tired to be annoyed at the dwarf's inability to understand how he would drink with a dog's head, forced his good arm up to grab the nozzle of the water skin and poured the contents into his mouth. It was clean, heavenly water. He didn't think he would ever taste something so wonderful again in his life. This hallucination was indeed forgiving. He drank so fast that he ended up coughing a small amount, spilling water either side of his face and aggravating his wound with the movement.
As the cool water wet his throat, Leo's senses started to come back to him. He found the strength to raise his head enough to get a better look at his arm. The dwarf was probably just in the process of cleaning it when he awoke, not much time had passed. Leo handed the water skin back, but did not let go when the man reached to take it. "You... listen..." Leo mumbled, "Put your blasted poker in the fireplace I see over there." Leo nodded his head towards the fireplace down his vision at the end of the room, "... once it's been there for... oh, you're cleaning my wound already, you should know what to do... burn the wound closed! Both sides. I can't..." Leo stopped to swallow, "I can't bleed for much longer..."
The symptom of the day was dehydration. He'd been lucky enough to find a clear stream several days ago, but the one he found this morning had obviously been still for too long, and had something in it which his stomach rejected. For the entire rest of the day his coordination was suffering and his eyes remained unfocussed. It didn't help that he hadn't anything to eat for an even longer time. Foraging was proving as successful as finding a way out of this hellhole. He could barely bother hunting. He tried to get up and winced as weight was put on his left arm. He couldn't let the wound open again, not with how little water he had. If he lost any more blood, he would faint and might not wake up.
How many days has it been? Leopold tried to remember in vain as he continued on. If only he could find some game to shoot, some water to drink, he could regain his energies and properly heal his wound. The only thing he could manage in this state was a spell that kept it from festering and a few dirty sutures, but it would take something stronger to disinfect it properly. "A spirit. A spirit to drink after pouring some on my wound..." he grumbled through a dry throat, "why the hell aren't there more inns in the for-"
Leopold halted in his tracks, his mouth open slightly. He had a look about him of utter disbelief. "No... Surely not." A short distance ahead, as if by some cruel trick, Leo spotted a large building in the distance. The sign out the front indicated that it was an inn. An inn, in a clearing, in the middle of a cursed forest. Leo was certain that the lack of water and food had finally got to his brain. He took one step, then another, then another, until he began to walk with a purpose again. He no longer cared that it was probably a trick of the mind. If he was going to give up all hope, he would give up what hope he had fabricated in his dying moments. As he got faster, his arm began to hurt again, he held it to his chest as he strode. He could notice his breathing becoming more tired and desperate. He was so lost in it that he broke into a jog as his second and final wind came over him. He was angry that it would come to his. He was furious that he was going to die starved and lost. After how far he had gone, he wanted to look the grim reaper in the face and punch his bony jaw off for the lack of justice in the world.
The jog quickened into a stumbling run when he reached the clearing. The staff was more weight than needed, he threw it down onto the path. Snarling and gnashing his teeth, he felt his wound start to bleed again. He was close to the door of the inn now, its details blurred around him, if being a little clearer right in the centre of his vision. He burst through the door, it felt so real that he could feel the cool of the doorknob, the hardness of the wood. The door gave way to the scent of home, of cooking, of stale drink and smoke. Fuzzy outlines of people beheld him, but he wasn't bothered. He spotted a bar and stomped towards it. He could hear pattering of blood dripping on the floor as he marched with bared teeth. One of the people was in his way, with his right hand he shoved the stranger to one side and proceeded to the bar. Slamming his palm onto the bar top, Leo's eyes darted around with his head angled forward and his back slouched, he was still breathing and bleeding heavily. The black dried blood that had soaked into his shirt was being revitalised with new blood. "A spirit! I need a spirit!" he shouted between breaths, "Any other bar... would be more forthcoming... when a man... has a wound to disinfect!"
It was then the Leo felt a stinging on his hand where he had hit it against the bar top. He raised it and looked at it as it throbbed with pain. This place was real... this place...
Leo's legs gave out from under him and he collapsed. Barely conscious, he stared up at the ceiling. Perhaps his mind wouldn't let him die without hope. With a sense of peace, his world turned spun and turned black.
Moments passed. A sharp pain ran through Leo's arm. In response, he scrunched his eyes and yelped in pain. Too weak to react further, he slowly opened his eyes and tried to regain his faculties. He still felt delirious, the hallucination of the inn wasn't helping at all. They seemed to have propped him onto a table, judging by the ceiling being closer and the texture of the surface he lay on. His wounded left arm felt cold. He lolled his head to one side and saw a greying dwarf man dabbing at it with a red-stained cloth. In the dwarf's other hand, he held a green bottle of what Leo could only assume to be an alcoholic spirit, though it might have been a potion of healing liquid if he was lucky. As the man noticed him wake, he put down the bottle and grabbed a water skin from nearby. Awkwardly, he held it to Leo's mouth to try and get him to drink. Leo, too tired to be annoyed at the dwarf's inability to understand how he would drink with a dog's head, forced his good arm up to grab the nozzle of the water skin and poured the contents into his mouth. It was clean, heavenly water. He didn't think he would ever taste something so wonderful again in his life. This hallucination was indeed forgiving. He drank so fast that he ended up coughing a small amount, spilling water either side of his face and aggravating his wound with the movement.
As the cool water wet his throat, Leo's senses started to come back to him. He found the strength to raise his head enough to get a better look at his arm. The dwarf was probably just in the process of cleaning it when he awoke, not much time had passed. Leo handed the water skin back, but did not let go when the man reached to take it. "You... listen..." Leo mumbled, "Put your blasted poker in the fireplace I see over there." Leo nodded his head towards the fireplace down his vision at the end of the room, "... once it's been there for... oh, you're cleaning my wound already, you should know what to do... burn the wound closed! Both sides. I can't..." Leo stopped to swallow, "I can't bleed for much longer..."
Thank you!
Ok, so I accidentally an entire CS. It's a little off-beat, but if you guys have room, do you mind if I hop in?
Name: Leopold Thiel
Age: 27
Race: Not even he is sure.
Gender: Male
Sexuality: "Really? It's not bloody dogs if that's what you're asking."
Class: Doctor
Appearance: A human with a dog's head and a thin coating of stiff grey fur over his body. He has a light, sinewy build.
Weapon(s): A quarterstaff, a light crossbow and a quiver of bolts. He is deceptively skilled with these weapons, but prefers to let fights come to him rather than provoking them.
Armour: Leo wears flaxen long sleeved shirt and trousers, a thick leather jerkin inset with metal rings for protection, a leather belt with a knife in a sheath and a pair of leather buckled boots. His clothing has remained simple as he maintains it himself and fashion has never been a priority for him. When it is cold, he wears a green woollen cloak with a cowl. He also carries a knapsack over his shoulders containing various supplies and belongings.
Personal Trinkets: A small surgeon’s kit, with required tools and materials, as well as magical components for other methods of healing. He tends to keep this kit close and in his bag most of the time as they were hard to obtain. Also, a pipe with the relevant accessories.
Short History:
Leopold tends to not elaborate on his past. What people have teased out of him over drinks is that he was the son of a sorceress and a courtier. How such a match was made is anyone's guess, but they were both human. In fact, Leo was born a human child, and changed into something resembling a dog over the space of two painful months. He became what he is by circumstances unexplained, but it occurred early in his life and defined him ever since. No wizards or wisemen could work it out or cure him. It was his very own inexplicable curse. Needless to say he was ostracised by his peers and developed a callous exterior, with layers of black humour and a sad filling. Nevertheless, he was raised with the drive for answers, eventually studying diligently into human anatomy and the techniques of healing wounds and diseases, all in search for a cure to make him normal again. In the process he became a skilled healer in many facets of the discipline, but had yet to find much in the way of clues as to his curse. Where he is not outright rejected in his travels, he has offered his services on many occasions, saving lives for coin.
Unwise leads and goose-chases in his travels had ultimately driven him to the Drakenwald in search for certain fae that might hold knowledge of his curse. It wasn't much, but it was something. It was unfortunate, then, that he had decided to wander into the edge of the wood where a group of bandits had decided to make their encampment. He ran as fast as he could into the trees, but he was noticed. His lapse in stealth resulted in him suffering an arrow through his arm. He could still run though, and run he did. He ran so fast that he thought he had lost the bandits, but too late did he realise that the bandits had intentionally broken off, not wanting to follow him too far into the cursed Drakenwald. He treated his wound as best as he could, but had neither the energy nor the resources to heal it completely. It was days upon days of wandering after that, he lost track of it all by the time he spotted a building through the trees.
Other: Despite being prickly, Leo is uncannily empathetic. He seems to read people like books.
Name: Leopold Thiel
Age: 27
Race: Not even he is sure.
Gender: Male
Sexuality: "Really? It's not bloody dogs if that's what you're asking."
Class: Doctor
Appearance: A human with a dog's head and a thin coating of stiff grey fur over his body. He has a light, sinewy build.
Weapon(s): A quarterstaff, a light crossbow and a quiver of bolts. He is deceptively skilled with these weapons, but prefers to let fights come to him rather than provoking them.
Armour: Leo wears flaxen long sleeved shirt and trousers, a thick leather jerkin inset with metal rings for protection, a leather belt with a knife in a sheath and a pair of leather buckled boots. His clothing has remained simple as he maintains it himself and fashion has never been a priority for him. When it is cold, he wears a green woollen cloak with a cowl. He also carries a knapsack over his shoulders containing various supplies and belongings.
Personal Trinkets: A small surgeon’s kit, with required tools and materials, as well as magical components for other methods of healing. He tends to keep this kit close and in his bag most of the time as they were hard to obtain. Also, a pipe with the relevant accessories.
Short History:
Leopold tends to not elaborate on his past. What people have teased out of him over drinks is that he was the son of a sorceress and a courtier. How such a match was made is anyone's guess, but they were both human. In fact, Leo was born a human child, and changed into something resembling a dog over the space of two painful months. He became what he is by circumstances unexplained, but it occurred early in his life and defined him ever since. No wizards or wisemen could work it out or cure him. It was his very own inexplicable curse. Needless to say he was ostracised by his peers and developed a callous exterior, with layers of black humour and a sad filling. Nevertheless, he was raised with the drive for answers, eventually studying diligently into human anatomy and the techniques of healing wounds and diseases, all in search for a cure to make him normal again. In the process he became a skilled healer in many facets of the discipline, but had yet to find much in the way of clues as to his curse. Where he is not outright rejected in his travels, he has offered his services on many occasions, saving lives for coin.
Unwise leads and goose-chases in his travels had ultimately driven him to the Drakenwald in search for certain fae that might hold knowledge of his curse. It wasn't much, but it was something. It was unfortunate, then, that he had decided to wander into the edge of the wood where a group of bandits had decided to make their encampment. He ran as fast as he could into the trees, but he was noticed. His lapse in stealth resulted in him suffering an arrow through his arm. He could still run though, and run he did. He ran so fast that he thought he had lost the bandits, but too late did he realise that the bandits had intentionally broken off, not wanting to follow him too far into the cursed Drakenwald. He treated his wound as best as he could, but had neither the energy nor the resources to heal it completely. It was days upon days of wandering after that, he lost track of it all by the time he spotted a building through the trees.
Other: Despite being prickly, Leo is uncannily empathetic. He seems to read people like books.
Upon Meesei expressing her concerns about the circumstances of the ambush, the approach became that little bit more tense. It got Fendros thinking, though. They couldn't be omniscient, these hunters. They had to get the message across and set up the ambush in advance. Come to think of it, how long did Ahnasha say that the Khajiit was talked in circles? If the madman was simply stalling for time, for nightfall in particular, as well as giving a map location, perhaps the ambush on the rival pack was more premeditated than previously thought. It was a chilling thought for Fendros that if it weren't for the rival pack, his pack may have fallen into the same trap if the system of informants did indeed stretch that far.
Runt silently complied and handed her belongings to Meesei, before stripping down quickly and lowering her chin to her chest. It took a scrunch of her eyes before her posture hunched and her anatomy started to snap and morph into her wolf form. Her wolf's compact build struck Fendros as probably more suited to a confined space than most any other pack member's beast form. Though breathing and holding herself differently, Runt's beady eyes seemed to carry over to this form.
"This looks too easy," Fendros thought aloud, "they wouldn't just let us walk in the front door."
Janius chimed in, "of course, there's going to be traps situated around the entrance, or at least something to alert them if there is someone walking in. We can't just wait around, though."
Fendros looked to one side and crossed his arms, thinking. "Might we..." Fendros raised a finger, paused, then shook his head "no, never mind. Trying to draw them out would be too risky."
"If we sneak up, try to maintain the element of surprise, that'll be our best chance in my opinion." Janius continued, "if at all possible, I don't want to be fighting them on their terms. That's all I have to say."
Runt silently complied and handed her belongings to Meesei, before stripping down quickly and lowering her chin to her chest. It took a scrunch of her eyes before her posture hunched and her anatomy started to snap and morph into her wolf form. Her wolf's compact build struck Fendros as probably more suited to a confined space than most any other pack member's beast form. Though breathing and holding herself differently, Runt's beady eyes seemed to carry over to this form.
"This looks too easy," Fendros thought aloud, "they wouldn't just let us walk in the front door."
Janius chimed in, "of course, there's going to be traps situated around the entrance, or at least something to alert them if there is someone walking in. We can't just wait around, though."
Fendros looked to one side and crossed his arms, thinking. "Might we..." Fendros raised a finger, paused, then shook his head "no, never mind. Trying to draw them out would be too risky."
"If we sneak up, try to maintain the element of surprise, that'll be our best chance in my opinion." Janius continued, "if at all possible, I don't want to be fighting them on their terms. That's all I have to say."
Fendros had expected there to be a trap. Like any good trap, it came out of nowhere. Fire, frost, arrows, ropes, rolling logs, none of it was quite as terrifying as what it wrought; a seven-strong pack of werewolves in such a position of hopelessness. It was almost too much to bear, but he tried his best not to let it bother him. Hearing words exchanged beside him, Fendros took note that even Ahnasha could not stand the sight of it. Fendros put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her and silently prayed that the hunters didn't have a similar gambit while they would follow them. Janius glared on silently, not giving away whether he was angered or calculating, likely both. Runt was the same as ever.
"We're in their territory now, everyone keep an eye out for traps." Janius reminded them almost needlessly.
"I can hardly make the hunters out against that light," Fendros said, "how many of them are there?"
With the ambush quickly over, Fendros observed the hunters begin to collect their arrows and haul the corpses back, tying their arms and legs to wooden poles as if they were deer. Judging by the shapes of their weapons, it looked like they used crossbows predominantly. Must be faster to aim and fire than a bow and arrow, Fendros thought, I'd bet the arrowheads are silver as well. When the hunting party had packed up and started moving out, the pack crept behind them to follow. Fendros kept his eyes in as many places as he could as they progressed, but predominantly on the ground for tripwires, pressure plates, magic runes and other traps. The scent they got from the ambush sight was distinct to track the hunters, but as they progressed it got weaker, as if it was being masked by the scent of the flora around them. If they weren't already looking for the hunters, they would likely have not been able to even notice their smell had they come across their trail by coincidence. "Water and crushed plants," Runt explained quietly, "they are pouring it over their tracks."
"We're in their territory now, everyone keep an eye out for traps." Janius reminded them almost needlessly.
"I can hardly make the hunters out against that light," Fendros said, "how many of them are there?"
With the ambush quickly over, Fendros observed the hunters begin to collect their arrows and haul the corpses back, tying their arms and legs to wooden poles as if they were deer. Judging by the shapes of their weapons, it looked like they used crossbows predominantly. Must be faster to aim and fire than a bow and arrow, Fendros thought, I'd bet the arrowheads are silver as well. When the hunting party had packed up and started moving out, the pack crept behind them to follow. Fendros kept his eyes in as many places as he could as they progressed, but predominantly on the ground for tripwires, pressure plates, magic runes and other traps. The scent they got from the ambush sight was distinct to track the hunters, but as they progressed it got weaker, as if it was being masked by the scent of the flora around them. If they weren't already looking for the hunters, they would likely have not been able to even notice their smell had they come across their trail by coincidence. "Water and crushed plants," Runt explained quietly, "they are pouring it over their tracks."
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