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Calaethis Dragonsbane · 04-30-2006, 07:40 PM

And so battle was joined…

….and played out thusly…

The four bandits armed with their swords and their daggers closed the final distance between the fleeing Eruwin, Nivram and Zakaria…

They had reached them in the shortest span of time – so sudden in fact that their charge met them before Nivram could draw his daggers; true, he had loosened them and perhaps, in the long run, it would change the outcome of the battle in his favour – or at least, enabling him to survive – but for now, he was unarmed. (Unless of course, one takes fists and feet into account as being “weapons”, that is)

Luckily however, Zakaria had appeared in miraculous timing – so incredible in fact that it would prove the turning point that saved their lives. Eruwin had long since blacked out even before the warrior-mage noble had stepped out of seemingly nowhere to intervene.

The bandits were not fazed by Zakaria in the slightest; as murderous as his own eyes were; so were they filled with bloodlust and rage. Their own eyes were filled with the ecstasy and thrill of the hunt; their own sanity (if indeed they ever had any) long gone, as was their humanity. Without regard for themselves, they threw themselves onto the warrior-mage; three of them dropping their swords as they hurled themselves against him in a physical embrace as they tackled him to the ground face up; stabbing and slashing as they did. Zakaria had no chance to get a sophisticated or complex spell off – even prepared with his magic, it would take time and the most he could possibly summon would be his Fiery Blaze or perhaps, if he was fortunate Searing Touch. His darkness spells would take time – time he did not have and would not likely have an effect before he was interrupted.

~~~

However, having no armour with which to defend against; the daggers slashed and sunk in – but for all that only two of the bandits were bodily atop him. They had caused a half dozen cuts with their wild slashing across his torso – not fatal, not yet – for it was to be the piercing damage that was the most lethal…

When Zakaria slammed into the ground with the weight of two others atop of his chest; it momentarily stunned him, the back of his head cracking against the dirt with a loud thud. Only the most thick-headed and experienced of veterans would have been able to recover instantly; but Zakaria was not one of them; he was not a brawler; he was a self-acclaimed assassin – a man who used magic, stealth and guile to eliminate his targets; a man who used finesse, not brute force. In this instance, although it had served him well in the past – it failed him now…

The bandits knew a mage when they saw one – they also knew that a mage could not concentrate on his spells if he was in an intense amount of pain. Now looming over the five-foot nine mage both bandits set their daggers to impale; stabbing down into his through his palms and pinning his hands slightly past his shoulders and the left tucked between his collarbone, and the right slightly below that.

Unfortunately for the two them, Zakaria had released his magicks as the blades struck; instantly beginning an incineration process to not just one, but the both of them. Time seemed to slow for the dark and mysterious Zakaria; echoes of his haunted past flashing before his eyes in the blazing fires that consumed first the bandits’ skin and clothes, melting one into the other as each became a human torch; a blistering beacon of scorching light and then their muscle and skeletons; the faint scent of charring, singeing flesh hanging in the air between his nostrils. The twin images before his eyes was brilliant even as they burned him - and soon nothing remained of either of them; except for their daggers and burnt-out skeletal fingers still clutching their weapons.

Zakaria did not emerge unscathed however; he was bleeding internally from the dagger trapped under his collarbone for it had pierced his lung. Had he been shot by a bolt or arrow; the term would have been “lung-shot”. No one survived from that – no one… unless magical healing was applied within moments before he drowned to death in his own fluids. There was still time.

The blast of his unleashed magicks’ had also not gone unpunished; in such close proximity to the warrior-mage the searing flame from his own fire had burnt him severely… and while they were not as fatal as the wounds the now dust-bandit remains had suffered, they were serious enough to scar him permanently. His chest was covered in what felt like a single large blister; but thankfully, no other part of his body had been seared by the fire. It was tragic but battle wounds happened – even if he was healed by the magic life-saving energies that only a healer truly possessed – even if his lungs were dried – the damage to his body was severe. It would take days of magical healing to restore his health and the skin; the soft tissue seared to white – but even if a healer was willing; the scars would remain. Forever.

~~~

Meanwhile, as this epic battle between the two bandits and Zakaria played out – the third bandit who had since risen to his feet charged Nivram and engaged him in mortal combat to the death. Only one would survive. However, this brief pause of the bandit regaining his feet bought Nivram all the time he needed to draw his daggers fully and prepare. It would be a foolhardy shot at best to fling it at the man, for it would deny him drawing another quickly…

Depending on Nivram’s choices; it will affect the outcome of Zakaria’s lifespan and that of not only his own, but also of Eruwin. If Nivram guards against the bandit, he will meet him head on in a clash; as the daggers of either player will resound sharply against the other’s guard. The undeniable ring of steel against steel (or indeed, whatever metal that Nivram’s daggers are) will be heard throughout the forest and reach the ears of those in camp – to those who are alert to such things. It will of course, take them a bit of time to charge to the rescue and join the battle – if that is their intention.

However, by the time they do – the fifth bandit, the archer will have arrived on the scene, his bow notched and ready. Should Nivram dispatch the bandit with a fling of his dagger(an exceedingly lucky strike if it does work), or should he finish him quickly in melee combat, he may have a chance to stop the archer before he arrives to notch his bow – and perhaps, even save Zakaria’s life. At best, Zak has perhaps, two minutes to live – possibly three if he is exceedingly lucky.

His gambit and heroic charge does however, save the lives of both Nivram and Eruwin – so his appearance was not in vain and should be remembered when the dust settles.

[ 05-03-2006, 05:04 AM: Message edited by: Calaethis Dragonsbane ]

04-30-2006, 07:40 PM	#42
Calaethis Dragonsbane Legion Symbol Join Date: May 29, 2002 Location: Somewhere in between Age: 40 Posts: 7,029	And so battle was joined… ….and played out thusly… The four bandits armed with their swords and their daggers closed the final distance between the fleeing Eruwin, Nivram and Zakaria… They had reached them in the shortest span of time – so sudden in fact that their charge met them before Nivram could draw his daggers; true, he had loosened them and perhaps, in the long run, it would change the outcome of the battle in his favour – or at least, enabling him to survive – but for now, he was unarmed. (Unless of course, one takes fists and feet into account as being “weapons”, that is) Luckily however, Zakaria had appeared in miraculous timing – so incredible in fact that it would prove the turning point that saved their lives. Eruwin had long since blacked out even before the warrior-mage noble had stepped out of seemingly nowhere to intervene. The bandits were not fazed by Zakaria in the slightest; as murderous as his own eyes were; so were they filled with bloodlust and rage. Their own eyes were filled with the ecstasy and thrill of the hunt; their own sanity (if indeed they ever had any) long gone, as was their humanity. Without regard for themselves, they threw themselves onto the warrior-mage; three of them dropping their swords as they hurled themselves against him in a physical embrace as they tackled him to the ground face up; stabbing and slashing as they did. Zakaria had no chance to get a sophisticated or complex spell off – even prepared with his magic, it would take time and the most he could possibly summon would be his Fiery Blaze or perhaps, if he was fortunate Searing Touch. His darkness spells would take time – time he did not have and would not likely have an effect before he was interrupted. ~~~ However, having no armour with which to defend against; the daggers slashed and sunk in – but for all that only two of the bandits were bodily atop him. They had caused a half dozen cuts with their wild slashing across his torso – not fatal, not yet – for it was to be the piercing damage that was the most lethal… When Zakaria slammed into the ground with the weight of two others atop of his chest; it momentarily stunned him, the back of his head cracking against the dirt with a loud thud. Only the most thick-headed and experienced of veterans would have been able to recover instantly; but Zakaria was not one of them; he was not a brawler; he was a self-acclaimed assassin – a man who used magic, stealth and guile to eliminate his targets; a man who used finesse, not brute force. In this instance, although it had served him well in the past – it failed him now… The bandits knew a mage when they saw one – they also knew that a mage could not concentrate on his spells if he was in an intense amount of pain. Now looming over the five-foot nine mage both bandits set their daggers to impale; stabbing down into his through his palms and pinning his hands slightly past his shoulders and the left tucked between his collarbone, and the right slightly below that. Unfortunately for the two them, Zakaria had released his magicks as the blades struck; instantly beginning an incineration process to not just one, but the both of them. Time seemed to slow for the dark and mysterious Zakaria; echoes of his haunted past flashing before his eyes in the blazing fires that consumed first the bandits’ skin and clothes, melting one into the other as each became a human torch; a blistering beacon of scorching light and then their muscle and skeletons; the faint scent of charring, singeing flesh hanging in the air between his nostrils. The twin images before his eyes was brilliant even as they burned him - and soon nothing remained of either of them; except for their daggers and burnt-out skeletal fingers still clutching their weapons. Zakaria did not emerge unscathed however; he was bleeding internally from the dagger trapped under his collarbone for it had pierced his lung. Had he been shot by a bolt or arrow; the term would have been “lung-shot”. No one survived from that – no one… unless magical healing was applied within moments before he drowned to death in his own fluids. There was still time. The blast of his unleashed magicks’ had also not gone unpunished; in such close proximity to the warrior-mage the searing flame from his own fire had burnt him severely… and while they were not as fatal as the wounds the now dust-bandit remains had suffered, they were serious enough to scar him permanently. His chest was covered in what felt like a single large blister; but thankfully, no other part of his body had been seared by the fire. It was tragic but battle wounds happened – even if he was healed by the magic life-saving energies that only a healer truly possessed – even if his lungs were dried – the damage to his body was severe. It would take days of magical healing to restore his health and the skin; the soft tissue seared to white – but even if a healer was willing; the scars would remain. Forever. ~~~ Meanwhile, as this epic battle between the two bandits and Zakaria played out – the third bandit who had since risen to his feet charged Nivram and engaged him in mortal combat to the death. Only one would survive. However, this brief pause of the bandit regaining his feet bought Nivram all the time he needed to draw his daggers fully and prepare. It would be a foolhardy shot at best to fling it at the man, for it would deny him drawing another quickly… Depending on Nivram’s choices; it will affect the outcome of Zakaria’s lifespan and that of not only his own, but also of Eruwin. If Nivram guards against the bandit, he will meet him head on in a clash; as the daggers of either player will resound sharply against the other’s guard. The undeniable ring of steel against steel (or indeed, whatever metal that Nivram’s daggers are) will be heard throughout the forest and reach the ears of those in camp – to those who are alert to such things. It will of course, take them a bit of time to charge to the rescue and join the battle – if that is their intention. However, by the time they do – the fifth bandit, the archer will have arrived on the scene, his bow notched and ready. Should Nivram dispatch the bandit with a fling of his dagger(an exceedingly lucky strike if it does work), or should he finish him quickly in melee combat, he may have a chance to stop the archer before he arrives to notch his bow – and perhaps, even save Zakaria’s life. At best, Zak has perhaps, two minutes to live – possibly three if he is exceedingly lucky. His gambit and heroic charge does however, save the lives of both Nivram and Eruwin – so his appearance was not in vain and should be remembered when the dust settles. [ 05-03-2006, 05:04 AM: Message edited by: Calaethis Dragonsbane ]