The Drachensturm

[Pyralithia]

Archer, blue

Lithia frowned a bit as her plan was refuted proving her inexpierence with real battles, since her time away from Burgundia she'd become quite adapt at swordplay and honed her archery skills even further but she only had to use them a few times. Only one time did she have to use them in such dire straits, and it wasnt an event she would soon forget. A bit lost in her thoughts she vaguely paid attention to others opinions but was only brought back when Dillan's hand clasped hers putting pressure against the bandage. Blinking in surprise she looks over at him with a small smile to show her ever protective friend that she was alright. "Now mon cheri surprotecteur (my overprotective darling - French) when would I ever let someone carry me over a simple cut? I'm not the same little gal you use to protect back in l'école primaire (grade school - French) Dill. But your concern warms me more than you know." She says softly, her eyes warm but confident.

When he rolled away she reached back retrieving her longbow and laying it across her lap, ready to snatch at a moments notice, her quiver laid across her back with a sum of 22 arrows, hopefully it would be enough. At the mention of her "title" she looks up at Dillan with a slight twitch, he knew she didnt like being addressed so formally but he was ever the stubborn brute. "Yes I am most familiar with it." She states calmly. When Dillan turned to leave but looked back at her she frowned her brow creasing in worry at the look in his eyes 'What was wrong? Was he that worried over her? Of course he was....' Her eyes followed his movements as he retrieved an arrow from her quiver grasping it as he faced her.

"In battle, we use it to determine who lives and dies." Those words brought her memory to the forefront of her mind and she mentally flinched but didnt betray it to Dillan, he didnt need to know, at least not yet. A slow smile comes to her lips as she holds the arrow securely, his hands warm against hers felt much nicer than she expected. But all too soon they were gone, "You worry far too much Dillan, I will prove to you how I have grown since our last parting. Please be safe, I will let lose my wrath on any who harm you, count on that cheri." Her voice starts off hushed and confident but ends determined and fiery, a light in her (now) green eyes that wouldnt go out without a fight.

Watching her most trusted friend depart she waited until he was completely out of sight before pushing herself to her feet though Lithia remained partially hunched down so she didnt get spotted by a bandit below. "I'm going to move a few feet over here to get a better shot. I'll let you know when the signal is sent." With that she takes her bow and walks over about a meter away from the group, sliding in between 2 large boulders that would make for decent cover if the enemy had an archer in their midst as well. Leaning against the side of one boulder she takes the arrow Dillan had just given back to her and nocks it but kept the string lose while she waited for his whistle, from her position the enemy would have a hard time seeing her but the others would be able too just fine.

~~~~~~~~~

Pyrelithia was watching the enemies below studying their movements and weapons, memorizing the weak points in their armor. When her ear perked up as the cat whistle sounded from somewhere below. Her expression turned serious her grip tightening on her bow. Waving at the others she calls out "Adalwolf is in place! Prepare for battle!" Just loud enough for the group to hear​

​

 

[MrDubWubs]

Ahhh finally it's time to fight! *Ullr said with a whisper yet sounded quite loud. His cocky smile spread on his face yet again. He swings his axes once more in a circle fashion then holds them tight ready to throw one at a targeted bandit. It was one he was planning to kill the entire time of waiting. The way he moved just ticked Ullr off. If this kill was taken from him he would be even more pissed. He blinks thinking if him or others would die during the fight. It would be a shame but shit happens and in these times he would simply pay his respects for the fight and leave them be*

 

[Big Goblin Bastard]

Killian rather enjoyed the week long journey to their destination. Queen Star was a wonderful horse to ride on through the weeks and even allowed those who were too tired or injured to ride the strong mare. He even attended those who suffered injury during the trip. He only joked about being a mystic though to explain his pointy hat, not exactly lying but tried to put on a tone that would give the imprssion that he was joking. Maybe it would lead people off and never even consider in actuality that he is a mystic...maybe?


Killian was in the midst of eating a piece of jerky when they reached their destination and became utterly lost in his head as he thought about what they would find within the vast halls of an underground vault or something of the sort but was shaken out of that day-dream when he heard about the bandits. He looked around quickly at the rest of the group, seeing some prepare for battle and got off his horse, putting his back down to fish out his crossbow, a rather finely crafted weapon loaded with a steel tipped bolt designed to really penetrate armor.

He then noticed Kateline who had gotten injured during the trip and the fact that she was unarmed. He looked down at his belt and went straight to her, unstrapping his long dagger and handed to her. "You should take this so you won't be defenseless" He said to her, leaving her there with the dagger but held his crossbow ready. A little special thing about the crossbow was that the string was also wrapped in a bit of metal and with a bit of electrical energy to produce magnetism, it allows him to load the crossbow with a bit more ease.

 

[Reaper Jack]

Lilia listened quietly and intently to the others converse, discussing their plans for battle, most were capable; however Ullr worried her, he seemed far to gung-ho about the whole thing, it was almost as if he was asking to have a limb or two removed, he was almost certainly underestimating the potential strength of their opponents.

She continued to listen to the others, eventually deciding on a plan to use.

"Richter. I think it's safest if we go with your plan. Go get into position, we'll move up as far as we can without being spotted and wait for the signal. Just to clarify, go over again exactly what your plan is, so no one misunderstands."

She waited for him to reply, she approved of his action, a simple flanking manoeuvre would be what was most likely to work here.

@WarriorHeart

 

[Undivided Belakor]

"Form your line!" Andrew said, pacing Falkrir up and down the space where he wanted the fighters...maybe after this, they would be his fighters. His brothers and sisters at arms. He had always seen those who fought beside him as such - more dear even than his own family. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, eh? The Northman thought, his eyes slowly scanning over to the bandits. They were ragged and disorganised, hardly worth the trouble of a proper battle plan...which is why the Drachensturm would win.

He spun his waraxe in his hand, his mail backed gloves softly clinking with the motion. His breath sounded like a dragon within his helmet, and he could hear his heart beating like a drum - getting slowly faster and faster, adrenaline already sloshing through his veins to bring red fury across his eyes and into his heart. Falkrir pawed at the salty coastal ground, lowering his head, ready for the charge; the big horse was trained for this. He wanted to be in the thick of the blood and fighting, like every horse of his line for five thousand years had been.

Again, Andrew turned to look at his companions. They were all new faces still, hardly known properly, but with time he thought he would become their friend, unless they died today in the sea wind, blood simply watering the dirt and gently fading into the ocean's blue depths through years of trickling through soil and evaporating into the clouds.

Ullr was brash and impatient, the big man hardly able to contain his battle lust - a bad trait unless you had similar minds around you. If you simply charged into every fight then you would be outmanoeuvred and crushed to pulp when you fought a competent enemy. A berserker was useful, but he had to be able to understand and follow commands until he was in the thick of the fighting.

Falkrir paced past the axeman, heavy brown eyes looking down at the berserker. "Hold steady, warrior. Don't lose your head"

Lilia, he knew, fought with a style he had never felt fitted him. He could always find himself using his axe to crack skulls, but he never danced around his foe - he either killed them with his first strike or used his shield to knock them off balance and away, leaving them exposed and defenceless to another attack. The bastard sword she used would fit the same thing, but he was trained to split skulls through heavy steel helmets, and that required a lot of strength, and a lot of solid footing.

"If the worst happens, Lady Lilia, you get your arse out of here and back to Avalon - this isn't a ship, and if it sinks you don't need to go down with it" Rumbled the scotsman as his horse brought him back over to where the archers and his leader was.

Cora was young, and Andrew worried that asking her to fight was too much - asking anyone who'd not fought before to dive immediately into battle was sometimes too much. Training was always important and he'd learned that at Saint Mungo's Academy when he was back home, squiring for Sir Augustus Bartholomew. The old bastard hadn't let up for ten years, till Andrew was sixteen. Old Augustus had knighted the young Northman himself on the training field, his stately nose broken from a final bout and both covered in many bruises.

His only words to her were to 'aim true' - he had no idea what to say that didn't sound like utter bullshite but he did prefer to say something.

The only other people who really caught his attention in these last few moments before battle were Dillian and Pyrelithia. The man had nearly snarled at the knight around the fire when he'd even looked at the girl...that wasn't a good trait. Bonds of friendship and trust were important between the people in a group, but utter protectiveness? Possessiveness even? It simply set Andy on edge.


Shaking his head clear of his thoughts, he let loose a loud shout and wheeled Falkrir, the big horse snorting and pawing at the dirt "Forward! Right into them, and leave none to live!" Kicking at the horse's flanks, he set him to a quick gallop, heavy hooves thundering on the coastal dirt, letting up puffs of dirt. "Cha togar m' fhearg gun dìoladh!" The knight roared, spinning his axe in his hand, eyes narrowed beneath pot helm. As he rounded the small outcrop of rock that seperated the bandits from the rest, he found them ready there.

The first he bore down on barely knew what was coming - the axe smashing into his nasal helm and splashing blood and grey matter all around, a cavernous rent splitting the bandit's skull like a ripe melon. He fell like a sack of potatoes, a death rattle gurgling from his throat. "C'mere 'n get some ya dozy bastards!" The knight yelled at the rest, wheeling his horse and riding back towards the rest of the group.

The bandits would be following.

 

[Reaper Jack]

Lilia sighed.

"Or not."

Discipline, that's something these people need clearly; out of everyone though, Andrew should have been disciplined...maybe she'd just underestimated his lust for battle. Like a typical knight, all he wanted to do was charge straight in and without orders; to crack his opponent's skulls open and revel in the glory.

Glory, what bullshit. There is no glory, the battlefield is Hell itself, you can't dress it up with sugar and rainbows. There is no hope on a battlefield, only utter and meaningless despair, a crime called victory, paid for by the damnation of the defeated. But these dazzling, glorified knights have always kept people from recognising this, blinding the people with their legends, keeping them from seeing the inner evil of what they do. Human nature never changes.

All that was why she took no glory, she was about surviving. Nothing more. Though perhaps one day, with the help of others, like these she had recruited, she'd be able to do something, she'd be able to change things, in her heart that was ultimately what she wished for. But it was a long way off yet.

She stood at the very edge of the rocky outcrop as Andrew drew the bandits back towards them. Without warning, a horn sounded from behind him, and another thirty bandits poured out from the cave entrance. Congratulations, now we won't be picking them off one-by-one she thought sarcastically. Knights never realised the value of subterfuge.

@Undivided Belakor

@EVERYONE

 

[Laurioshock]

Cora was nervous, more than nervous now. She was beginning to get scared. She had told herself she had no time for such trivial feelings. Yet now here grasping her bow and an arrow, stanced and ready to fight, did it all become real. They were about to go running in and fight head to head with a bunch of bandits. This was exactly the sort of thing she had been avoiding all her life. She was out of her element. She was skill in few things, fighting was not one of them. Archery yes, but that was hunting for food. Small animals such as rabits, deer...not people. Taking the life of an animal was surivial for food. But to take a shot at another human being, it didn't feel right. It felt like a crime.

With Andrew telling them what to do, Cora hesitantly looked around everyone else, looks like they had no choice now he had shouted out to the world that they were there. There was no sneaking up on the bandits now. It was a head on battle.

"O--okay. I shall ready myself."

Cora took her position in haste now, not wanting the bandits to be upon them before she was ready. Though she was definitely not ready to shoot an arrow at anyone, she may not have a choice though.

Moving up onto higher ground, or as high as she could go she took her stance. Readying her bow and arrow, grasping it and drawing back the bowstring by her chin she kept her site on the bandits, ready to strike if she had to. Her heart pounding in her chest, adrenaline running through her veins.

Cora was stuggling to keep calm, she wasn't a fighter yet here she was in the midst of a new battle. This wasn't the good start she wanted for her adventure. But there was no going back now.

 

[MrDubWubs]

AHH! You bastard! I wanted that one!! *He was mad now and it fueled his lust to fight. He hoped over a rock ready to take on what comes at him. He thought three at once would be fine but anymore than that he would flee from the fight.* Come on you bandit assholes!

 

[Reaper Jack]

The bandits close in on the rocks where the group is hiding; of the thirty-seven who were alive, two are dead, leaving thirty-five. Five rush Ullr, armed with maces and one with a short sword, while six, armed mostly with crude spears except for a single bowman, go after Andrew, the remainder have yet to arrive, but will be on top of you in short order.

 

[Laurioshock]

Cora was shocked at the sight of so many Bandits. Now it was an even worse idea that Andrew had revealed there location, rather than pick them off one by one. They were so very out numbered and now Cora was officially scared. Most were armed and heading right towards everyone. Cora had limited arrows, she could not afford to miss a shot, though she had good aim she was under pressure and the fear of her imminent death on her mind. Though it might not happen, that did not stop her fear of it happening cloud her mind.

Cora caught sight of another archer within the enemy bandits. It would be in her best interests to get rid of him first. He had the advantage also of a long range shot. It would not bode well for those on the ground. Not only that but if she could she would like to get a hold of his arrows, they would come in handy to her. It would, if she could get to them provide her with a little more ammunition.

Getting a sight on the man in question she aimed, taking into account the breeze of the shore and how it would effect her arrow. Her heart pounding at what she was about to do, she was about to shoot someone, with an arrow. Potentially a fatal shot. But if she didn't, there was more chance of others getting hurt by him. Better this man than any of her team. She didn't want to kill anyone, but she didn't want to die. She wasn't going to run cowardly, not this time.

So with that she realised the bowstring, sending the arrow careering towards the enemy archer down below. As she did she drew another arrow and readied herself once more with haste. She had no time to be slow. This was life and death.



@Reaper Jack

 

[Reaper Jack]

Cora was shocked at the sight of so many Bandits. Now it was an even worse idea that Andrew had revealed there location, rather than pick them off one by one. They were so very out numbered and now Cora was officially scared. Most were armed and heading right towards everyone. Cora had limited arrows, she could not afford to miss a shot, though she had good aim she was under pressure and the fear of her imminent death on her mind. Though it might not happen, that did not stop her fear of it happening cloud her mind.

Cora caught sight of another archer within the enemy bandits. It would be in her best interests to get rid of him first. He had the advantage also of a long range shot. It would not bode well for those on the ground. Not only that but if she could she would like to get a hold of his arrows, they would come in handy to her. It would, if she could get to them provide her with a little more ammunition.

Getting a sight on the man in question she aimed, taking into account the breeze of the shore and how it would effect her arrow. Her heart pounding at what she was about to do, she was about to shoot someone, with an arrow. Potentially a fatal shot. But if she didn't, there was more chance of others getting hurt by him. Better this man than any of her team. She didn't want to kill anyone, but she didn't want to die. She wasn't going to run cowardly, not this time.

So with that she realised the bowstring, sending the arrow careering towards the enemy archer down below. As she did she drew another arrow and readied herself once more with haste. She had no time to be slow. This was life and death.

@Reaper Jack

The arrow slices through the air without fault, falling fast on it's target. It pierces the archer's throat, ripping a chunk of flesh out from the side of his neck, he falls down onto the sand backwards, his eyes glazed over and in shock, his mouth bubbling frothy blood as he goes through his last, horrendous moments on this Earth, he falls quiet, his chest no longer moving. He is dead.

 

[MrDubWubs]

Gah! You cheatin bastard! Fight like a man and take me on one on one! *He states this throwing an axe at ones body. It wouldn't kill him if it hit, but sure as hell would stop him for a bit. He clenched his hand into a fist and clenched the axe in his other hand. He quickly prepares to fight hoping that his axe hit it's intended target. If not he would run to get it*

 

[Reaper Jack]

Gah! You cheatin bastard! Fight like a man and take me on one on one! *He states this throwing an axe at ones body. It wouldn't kill him if it hit, but sure as hell would stop him for a bit. He clenched his hand into a fist and clenched the axe in his other hand. He quickly prepares to fight hoping that his axe hit it's intended target. If not he would run to get it*

The axe thuds into the bandit's chest handle first, winding him. You are however, still surrounded by four more angry ass bandits baying for your blood, and now you've lost an axe, better hope someone decides to come to your rescue eh?

 

[MrDubWubs]

The axe thuds into the bandit's chest handle first, winding him. You are however, still surrounded by four more angry ass bandits baying for your blood, and now you've lost an axe, better hope someone decides to come to your rescue eh?

A little help!!*Ullr says with a growl and his cocky smile still on his face. He quickly scanned the others around him. Either some one needs to shoot one with an arrow or he could die. He quickly aims a punch at the one with the sword. If he hits his face he wouldn't be able to see anymore due to the spiked gloves. As well as if it hurt he would take his sword to fight. Before all this he swung his axe spinning him in a circle to make the others back away so he had time to strike the sword weilder*

 

[Reaper Jack]

*Ullr growls quickly scanning the others. Either some one needs to shoot one with an arrow or he could die. He quickly aims a punch at the one with the sword. If he hits his face he wouldn't be able to see anymore due to the spiked gloves. As well as if it hurt he would take his sword to fight. Before all this he swung his axe spinning him in a circle to make the others back away so he had time to strike the sword weilder*

The bandits approach cautiously, their weapons not quite long enough to attack you as you swing wildly with your axe. The sword-wielder is taken off-guard as you punch him, not expecting a pugilist-style attack from a man wielding arms; his nose crunches under the blow, breaking instantly; the sword falling from his now slack grip.

 

[Laurioshock]

The arrow slices through the air without fault, falling fast on it's target. It pierces the archer's throat, ripping a chunk of flesh out from the side of his neck, he falls down onto the sand backwards, his eyes glazed over and in shock, his mouth bubbling frothy blood as he goes through his last, horrendous moments on this Earth, he falls quiet, his chest no longer moving. He is dead.

The shot was perfect, it went through the man like a knife through butter. Her heart plummeted. What had she done...She'd just killed a man, in cold blood. Now he way laying on the sand, bleeding out, staining the battle field with red. First blood spilled and it was on her hands.

Her hands trembled as she looked upon what she had just done. So much blood, it was a gruesome sight at that. But his arrows were now hers for the taking. That is if they managed to fight off the rest and continue with the job without dying.

She had killed one man of many. She had counted thirty--no it was more than that. A big fight for a band of men and women so small. Of which most could not fight.

Steading herself she aimed her bow and awaiting arrow, moving it along the amount of bandits. Waiting, she only had six arrows left. Each shot would need to count. They would be used for only those who really deserved such a fate, to keep those safe below who were overpowered. She just hoped it would be enough.

She was now a murderer. Her mind unable to erase what she had just seen, what she had just done. Seeing a man drop dead by her doing. It was scaring.
She had not intended for this new job to make herself into a killer, she didn't expect such.
Though people always say, expect the unexpected.

First kill is always the worst, It'll get easier. She thought to herself.

Gazing over the battle field she saw one man Ullr she believe his name to be in particular with many a bandit upon him. At least four maybe five. It weilded an axe but there were to many for just him. If Cora could get a shot on one of them, even just to wound them it might make it easier on him.

Aiming her shot in his direction she looked over though that surrounded him, picking out her target. They were all close together, she may be able to graze one or maybe two with one shot. Nothing was certain, but she could try and at least help him out.
Pulling the bowstring taught she took aim at one of the bandits surronding him, taking a moment to line herself correctly before letting the sharp arrow fly once more towards a bandit.

She was right, the second shot was easier than the first, but it didn't make her feel any less sick about what she was going.

@MrDubWubs

 

[Reaper Jack]

The shot was perfect, it went through the man like a knife through butter. Her heart plummeted. What had she done...She'd just killed a man, in cold blood. Now he way laying on the sand, bleeding out, staining the battle field with red. First blood spilled and it was on her hands.

Her hands trembled as she looked upon what she had just done. So much blood, it was a gruesome sight at that. But his arrows were now hers for the taking. That is if they managed to fight off the rest and continue with the job without dying.

She had killed one man of many. She had counted thirty--no it was more than that. A big fight for a band of men and women so small. Of which most could not fight.

Steading herself she aimed her bow and awaiting arrow, moving it along the amount of bandits. Waiting, she only had six arrows left. Each shot would need to count. They would be used for only those who really deserved such a fate, to keep those safe below who were overpowered. She just hoped it would be enough.

She was now a murderer. Her mind unable to erase what she had just seen, what she had just done. Seeing a man drop dead by her doing. It was scaring.

She had not intended for this new job to make herself into a killer, she didn't expect such.

Though people always say, expect the unexpected.

First kill is always the worst, It'll get easier. She thought to herself.

Gazing over the battle field she saw one man Ullr she believe his name to be in particular with many a bandit upon him. At least four maybe five. It weilded an axe but there were to many for just him. If Cora could get a shot on one of them, even just to wound them it might make it easier on him.

Aiming her shot in his direction she looked over though that surrounded him, picking out her target. They were all close together, she may be able to graze one or maybe two with one shot. Nothing was certain, but she could try and at least help him out.

Pulling the bowstring taught she took aim at one of the bandits surronding him, taking a moment to line herself correctly before letting the sharp arrow fly once more towards a bandit.

She was right, the second shot was easier than the first, but it didn't make her feel any less sick about what she was going.

@MrDubWubs

The arrow flies through the air, whistling in it's wake; it embeds itself in the arm of one of the mace-wielders, causing him to cry out in shock, dropping the mace and staggering backwards, his face contorted with rage and pain. "Motherfucker! Which one of you shits was that! Gnnhhn!"

 

[WarriorHeart]

The Wolf Hunts, orange

Dillan sat in wait after making his signal. He had been in his fair share of scraps but was far from a seasoned warrior. He had known men who had been in hundreds of battles which made the few dozen Dillan had survived seem paltry. He watched the knight ride down and smash the head of one of the seven. The rest immediately charged after Andrew. It was then that Dillan decided to creep from his hiding place. He moved quickly but softly over towards the cave entrance before charging. He did not want good peripheral vision to give him away.

As he stood next to the cave's wall, a horn blew and the sound of dozens of angry voices rose from deep within. Dillan turned around and heard the stomp of boots and the clash of steel. He knew the party could not handle a massive group. There were several skilled fighters but being the first encounter no one knew the strengths of one another and the idea of fighting a huge group just didn't appeal to Dillan. He lifted his mace quickly to the lantern next to him smashing it to pieces and spilling the flaming oil all over the gear stacked along the cave's wall. Crates and packs quickly began to burn bright and hot. Dillan scampered off to the side as he saw several men emerging on the other side of the flames. He hid until what he thought was seventeen made it out onto the field before the fire covered the entire entrance. Choked cries and angry curses flickered in between the roaring flames.

Dillan rushed out feeling confident no one would be coming from behind and chased down the last group to exit the cave. Axe in his right hand, mace in his left; he quickly caught one man and swung the mace from left to right trying to sweep the man's feet. Dillan had used this move before. His axe would find a soft spot either lethal or debilitating once the bandit would slow, stop or fall.

 

[Laurioshock]

The arrow flies through the air, whistling in it's wake; it embeds itself in the arm of one of the mace-wielders, causing him to cry out in shock, dropping the mace and staggering backwards, his face contorted with rage and pain. "Motherfucker! Which one of you shits was that! Gnnhhn!"

Seeing her arrow take shot and embed into a badits arm, she was almost relived she didn't kill him. Then again, he was alive and was still capable of killing. She was another arrow down unfortunately, but her shot had given Ullr the time to take action against the now staggering man. It gave him a small window of oppertunity to take some of them out while he was dazed.
Cora was proud that she was able to help in some way, but on the other hand disgraced at herself from having to make herself into a killer. Yes it was in aid of everyone's life. But she took someones life, snuffed it out as if it were nothing. That wasn't right in her book. Yet she felt it better him to die than her or anyone on her team. They needed everyone they could get.

Ducking down into the long grass, she peered through to the battle ongoing below. She didn't want to risk being seen. She needed to keep quiet and do what she could. If she was seen she was sure they'd come after her, then how was she going to protect herself? She was an asset to them from up here, doing what little she could.

Drawing another arrow from the quiver she readied herself, but paused. Keeping hidden for now, just until she needed to take another shot. Five goes left. She was hoping it would be enough to get them though this battle. If not, she might have to try her luck in going to reteieve those from the fallen archer or her own arrows she had already shot.

 

[Reaper Jack]

Dillan sat in wait after making his signal. He had been in his fair share of scraps but was far from a seasoned warrior. He had known men who had been in hundreds of battles which made the few dozen Dillan had survived seem paltry. He watched the knight ride down and smash the head of one of the seven. The rest immediately charged after Andrew. It was then that Dillan decided to creep from his hiding place. He moved quickly but softly over towards the cave entrance before charging. He did not want good peripheral vision to give him away. As he stood next to the cave's wall, a horn blew and the sound of dozens of angry voices rose from deep within. Dillan turned around and heard the stomp of boots and the clash of steel. He knew the party could not handle a massive group. There were several skilled fighters but being the first encounter no one knew the strengths of one another and the idea of fighting a huge group just didn't appeal to Dillan. He lifted his mace quickly to the lantern next to him smashing it to pieces and spilling the flaming oil all over the gear stacked along the cave's wall. Crates and packs quickly began to burn bright and hot. Dillan scampered off to the side as he saw several men emerging on the other side of the flames. He hid until what he thought was seventeen made it out onto the field before the fire covered the entire entrance. Choked cries and angry curses flickered in between the roaring flames. Dillan rushed out feeling confident no one would be coming from behind and chased down the last group to exit the cave. Axe in his right hand, mace in his left; he quickly caught one man and swung the mace from left to right trying to sweep the man's feet. Dillan had used this move before. His axe would find a soft spot either lethal or debilitating once the bandit would slow, stop or fall.[/fieldset]

The flaming oil cascaded down upon the bandits as they left the cave; around twenty were already beyond it's reach, however, nine bandits in total, were not.

Their screams pierced the ears of all those who could hear; writhing in pure agony as their flesh melted and peeled backwards from their newly-blackened bones. Six died within seconds, the three survivors however, were in far more of a pitiable state; they crawled across the sand with one arm or two, their legs half charred and cooked, the smell of still burning human flesh and skin pervading the air; they groaned in agony, just barely audible, little more than moving chunks of melted meat.

Dillan caught the man's legs with his mace, toppling him down to the sand below, he dropped his weapon, a longbow, and begged for mercy.

"Please! Don't kill me!"