Jun 3, 2025 4:02 pm
Corson narrowed his eyes at the dandy, readying his shield, the intricately carved rod of white birch clenched firmly in his hand.
RP Session 1: "A Hart's Errand"
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Jun 3, 2025 4:03 pm
For whatever happened next, the Sidhe was ready.
Narrowing his darker-than-night eyes at the uncooperative subject of their previous investigation, Breuddwyd simply hissed, "Tyllu amheuaeth," at the swordsman to undercut his bold approach before moving back behind the better armored Corson.
Narrowing his darker-than-night eyes at the uncooperative subject of their previous investigation, Breuddwyd simply hissed, "Tyllu amheuaeth," at the swordsman to undercut his bold approach before moving back behind the better armored Corson.
Jun 3, 2025 4:03 pm
Breuddwyd felt his spell bite home, but it barely slowed the man. With the fluid grace of a practised warrior the man swung his paired blades in a variation on the black strike used by the Brecht, slashing with the first weapon before turning and using his body to disguise a stab with the second. Corson was first in his path thanks to the sidhe's wise retreat, and though the doughty warrior was able to parry the first slash the second struck true and cruel.
Jun 3, 2025 4:04 pm
As Corson matched blades with the swift and deadly Brecht duellist, another figure emerged at the end of the lantern-lit inn hallway.
At first it may have seemed to the beleaguered defenders that another enemy had joined the battle. But as the large shape broke into a run, they saw it heft a shield with familiar heraldry – a silver hawk swooping above a black tower on a blue and green field – and the glint of a wickedly sharp war-pick coming up to strike.
"Glory, like lightning..." Lancaelad began to intone as he charged towards the signalman at full speed. He looked a frightful, but fearsome mess: he wore a soiled, commoner's cloak, and under it his quilted surcoat was stained with mud and grass as if he'd rolled down a hill. A broken crossbow bolt jutted from his shoulder, and the armour was soaked with a half-moon of dark red blood. His hair was wild and his face bruised, but his lips were locked in a snarl of purpose as he bore down on their foe.
"...should oft appear..."
Seeing the man's side-sword come away crimson from Corson's flesh, Lancaelad hurled himself forward. Shield raised to cover his head and body, his pick swung slow to sweep the man's legs out from under him. "You Brechts," Lan grunted as he felt like he had a good hook on the man's well-turned ankles. "Always swishing about with your needleswords and frilly shirts. You must be taught to fight like men!"
The signalman hit the creaking floorboards of the inn with a disdainful outlet of breath.
At first it may have seemed to the beleaguered defenders that another enemy had joined the battle. But as the large shape broke into a run, they saw it heft a shield with familiar heraldry – a silver hawk swooping above a black tower on a blue and green field – and the glint of a wickedly sharp war-pick coming up to strike.
"Glory, like lightning..." Lancaelad began to intone as he charged towards the signalman at full speed. He looked a frightful, but fearsome mess: he wore a soiled, commoner's cloak, and under it his quilted surcoat was stained with mud and grass as if he'd rolled down a hill. A broken crossbow bolt jutted from his shoulder, and the armour was soaked with a half-moon of dark red blood. His hair was wild and his face bruised, but his lips were locked in a snarl of purpose as he bore down on their foe.
"...should oft appear..."
Seeing the man's side-sword come away crimson from Corson's flesh, Lancaelad hurled himself forward. Shield raised to cover his head and body, his pick swung slow to sweep the man's legs out from under him. "You Brechts," Lan grunted as he felt like he had a good hook on the man's well-turned ankles. "Always swishing about with your needleswords and frilly shirts. You must be taught to fight like men!"
The signalman hit the creaking floorboards of the inn with a disdainful outlet of breath.
Jun 3, 2025 4:07 pm
Corson hesitated for a moment, but threw caution to the wind. Using his shield, the stalwart warrior attempted to pin the duelist to the ground!
Brandishing his intricately carved club, the squire raised it and it seems to grow and writhe into a gnarled mass of roots ending in a clump at the end, and brought it down on the pinned man!
Brandishing his intricately carved club, the squire raised it and it seems to grow and writhe into a gnarled mass of roots ending in a clump at the end, and brought it down on the pinned man!
Jun 3, 2025 4:08 pm
Things unfolded quickly, from Tovrunn's perspective. The charging noble, whom she had spied on not 3 hours hence, now found himself pinned to the floor by the very man whom he had struck. And her betrothed, Azrai strike him, had returned by route unknown from whereabouts unknown. Though from the look of him, it seemed as though he had dragged himself through a battlefield to arrive here. She felt pity for his armorer at having to repair his mail twice in a single day. And, perhaps, for him as the arrow that pierced him was doubtlessly unpleasant.
Glancing to the stairwell whose access was blocked partially by the bed, Tovrunn moved forward, whispering words beneath her breath and tracing runes in the air. "Hold him steady, brave squire," she bid Corson as she laid a magically imbued hand on him, soft light pulsing and driving away his weariness. Looking at the man pinned to the floorboards, she nearly felt a smidge of pity for the storm that was to come breaking on his head. But her eyes laid on him for only a moment before she turned them to her betrothed. "Hold him still so that justice may be done upon him," she said, her eyes and voice cold and sharp like ice.
Glancing to the stairwell whose access was blocked partially by the bed, Tovrunn moved forward, whispering words beneath her breath and tracing runes in the air. "Hold him steady, brave squire," she bid Corson as she laid a magically imbued hand on him, soft light pulsing and driving away his weariness. Looking at the man pinned to the floorboards, she nearly felt a smidge of pity for the storm that was to come breaking on his head. But her eyes laid on him for only a moment before she turned them to her betrothed. "Hold him still so that justice may be done upon him," she said, her eyes and voice cold and sharp like ice.
Jun 3, 2025 4:09 pm
As the Roesonians piled onto the swift Brecht warrior the sound of running feet on the stair saw a mercenary with a crossbow appear behind the hurried barricade and set a nervous eye on Breuddwyd. An outraged cry from the innkeeper's chambers announced that the other stair was also being advanced upon, while up the hall another door burst open and a man in leathers with a shortsword stepped out and quickly appraised the situation.
Jun 3, 2025 4:09 pm
"Do you believe I was bluffing about the flames?" Breuddwyd called to the newly revealed mercenary, his throaty growl defiant. "How far away are your healers right now?" Stepping between past his companions, he drew his blade and ducked low in the hopes of finishing one target swiftly before the others could arrive.
In a sonorous purr as he thrust the elven sword down, he grimly added, "This one will just have to imagine the fire."
In a sonorous purr as he thrust the elven sword down, he grimly added, "This one will just have to imagine the fire."
Jun 3, 2025 4:10 pm
Grounded by the two knights, and pinned against the wall of the stair the gaudily clad warrior squirmed aside under Corson's rain of blows and Breuddwyd's own timely thrust showing barely a scratch. But instead of fighting for his feet against stronger opponents the man was like an eel, or better yet a viper, dividing flashing blows between his assailants from his back.
The man on the stair who wore blackened leathers crept forward, hearing only sounds of a fight, and levelled his crossbow at Tovrunn - the first target he saw, but the bed barricade sacrificed itself in a burst of straw mattress. His fellow up the hall ran to join the melee, vicious blade raised but Arglwyddes materialised as if from nowhere, interceding between the new attacker and Lan's exposed back with a guttural growl.
The man on the stair who wore blackened leathers crept forward, hearing only sounds of a fight, and levelled his crossbow at Tovrunn - the first target he saw, but the bed barricade sacrificed itself in a burst of straw mattress. His fellow up the hall ran to join the melee, vicious blade raised but Arglwyddes materialised as if from nowhere, interceding between the new attacker and Lan's exposed back with a guttural growl.
Jun 4, 2025 3:15 am
The slam of a door, the silken growl of Breuddwyn's elven war-hound – as his companions piled on the floored Brecht with enspelled staves and narrow swords. Lancaelad's head snapped to the side. His eyes widened as he saw the man barrelling out of the room he had passed being harried by the snapping jaws and fierce play of the dog. There were too damn many of the ruffians, coming from too many angles – this inn was bound to become a slaughterhouse if they tarried.
"...to... to... few men's ruin..." he continued his poetic invocation, but there was an audible crack of fear in his voice. The young knight hefted his crow's bill and swung it down at the Brecht, an unsportsmanlike and unsatisfactory blow considering the foe was so thoroughly pinned and surrounded.
"This is no bastion - we cannot hold here long," he said, turning and raising his shield to meet the sellsword that had fought past Arglewyddes and was moving to strike him.
"...to... to... few men's ruin..." he continued his poetic invocation, but there was an audible crack of fear in his voice. The young knight hefted his crow's bill and swung it down at the Brecht, an unsportsmanlike and unsatisfactory blow considering the foe was so thoroughly pinned and surrounded.
"This is no bastion - we cannot hold here long," he said, turning and raising his shield to meet the sellsword that had fought past Arglewyddes and was moving to strike him.
Jun 4, 2025 3:16 am
Corson looked at Lancaelad. "Yes, this is untenable, at best. Let us rectify that."
The squire locked his gnarled, writhing club, grapevining the Brecht duelist's arm and dragging him along the floor. When he got to the barricade, Corson heaved using his hip as a fulcrum in an attempt to throw his assailant into their opponents below!
The squire locked his gnarled, writhing club, grapevining the Brecht duelist's arm and dragging him along the floor. When he got to the barricade, Corson heaved using his hip as a fulcrum in an attempt to throw his assailant into their opponents below!
Jun 4, 2025 3:17 am
"Courage, my love," Tovrunn uttered as she pulled her starlight-infused crystal from beneath her tunic. "Our strength has not left us yet."
Light shown out once again, and as it had that very morn the Druid's skin rippled away to reveal the clear night sky. A crossbow bolt whistled by her, but she paid it no heed. Arrows made of moonlight very much like it now hung suspended about her arms. Drawing one as though it were nocked at the string of an invisible bow, Tovrunn loosed the first of many at the sole remaining foe in the hallway.
The door she stood by, however, drew her attention. From the commotion in the room beyond, more assailants were arriving by way of the proprietress's quarters. "Breuddwyd! The door!" she called, popping the corks of the two water skins she kept strapped behind her shoulder blades. Pulling the water forth, she bade the liquid to fill the cracks and tumblers and latches of the innkeepers door, counting on her mystically inclined sidhe companion to recognize what she was doing.
Light shown out once again, and as it had that very morn the Druid's skin rippled away to reveal the clear night sky. A crossbow bolt whistled by her, but she paid it no heed. Arrows made of moonlight very much like it now hung suspended about her arms. Drawing one as though it were nocked at the string of an invisible bow, Tovrunn loosed the first of many at the sole remaining foe in the hallway.
The door she stood by, however, drew her attention. From the commotion in the room beyond, more assailants were arriving by way of the proprietress's quarters. "Breuddwyd! The door!" she called, popping the corks of the two water skins she kept strapped behind her shoulder blades. Pulling the water forth, she bade the liquid to fill the cracks and tumblers and latches of the innkeepers door, counting on her mystically inclined sidhe companion to recognize what she was doing.
Jun 4, 2025 3:18 am
Pinned to the pitted floor under Corson's shield, their ambusher proved he was only a little less dangerous and the man hadn't had the fraught battle or tense flight that they had. He was sharp where Corson and Lancaelad were growing dull and anxious as the day wore thin. There was only one thing for it - the man couldn't be left at their backs.
With a mighty heave Corson sent the warrior up against the wall, and even as one of the blades found his flesh the adherent to the Green manhandled his foe to their hurried barricade and pitched him over it. The warrior tumbled like a carnival acrobat (though truth be told more heavily) as he flew down the inn's narrow stair, but couldn't arrest his momentum until they turned to the left where another of the mercenaries was emerging. With a flash of irritation the Brecht snatched the crossbow off the surprised mercenary (he must have left his in the inn room), and took aim at Corson who was scarcely visible at the top of the stair, and the fellow who'd already fired followed suit.
The first bolt, aimed in frustration thudded harmlessly into the bedframe, but the second was on the mark and cut a painful gash across the knight's clavicle even as he ducked below cover.
Upstairs the unshaven, wiry men who was waylaid by Arglwyddes had fought forward into reach of Lancaelad, and even as he did another figure emerged from the room he'd been in. The innkeeper had said the inn was full - how many of their fellow guests were also enemies?
With a mighty heave Corson sent the warrior up against the wall, and even as one of the blades found his flesh the adherent to the Green manhandled his foe to their hurried barricade and pitched him over it. The warrior tumbled like a carnival acrobat (though truth be told more heavily) as he flew down the inn's narrow stair, but couldn't arrest his momentum until they turned to the left where another of the mercenaries was emerging. With a flash of irritation the Brecht snatched the crossbow off the surprised mercenary (he must have left his in the inn room), and took aim at Corson who was scarcely visible at the top of the stair, and the fellow who'd already fired followed suit.
The first bolt, aimed in frustration thudded harmlessly into the bedframe, but the second was on the mark and cut a painful gash across the knight's clavicle even as he ducked below cover.
Upstairs the unshaven, wiry men who was waylaid by Arglwyddes had fought forward into reach of Lancaelad, and even as he did another figure emerged from the room he'd been in. The innkeeper had said the inn was full - how many of their fellow guests were also enemies?
Jun 4, 2025 3:19 am
Seeing the wisdom in Tovrunn's elemental improvisation, Breuddwyd swiftly fixed his attention momentarily on the door jamb she had doused and reached out to the fat droplets suffusing the grain. Envisioning the result that would be most advantageous, he raised loose fingers that curled from fluid movement into a rigid fist to emulate water flashfreezing into ice.
Then he glanced past Lancaelad to the most visible mercenary, realizing that Arglwyddes could not restrain the man for long, though brave be her efforts. This was going to get ugly.
"Methiant arwrol," he hissed to take some of the starch out of the nearest sellsword's stride. The Sidhe toyed with the amber talisman beneath his shirt as he pointed at the approaching enemy. "This one next."
Then he glanced past Lancaelad to the most visible mercenary, realizing that Arglwyddes could not restrain the man for long, though brave be her efforts. This was going to get ugly.
"Methiant arwrol," he hissed to take some of the starch out of the nearest sellsword's stride. The Sidhe toyed with the amber talisman beneath his shirt as he pointed at the approaching enemy. "This one next."
Jun 4, 2025 3:19 am
Pulling back around the corner, Corson moved quickly to recover his shield and strap it to his arm, his wounds becoming evident in his movements. The stoic warrior, however, just grimaced through the pain.
Jun 4, 2025 3:21 am
Lan flushed, his bruised cheeks mottling as Tovrunn's words reached his ears over the clamour of battle. To be told to hold his manhood by a woman, his intended fiance, no less! He heard the rustle of cloth and grunt of effort from behind him, and spared a glance to see the Brecht go roughly down the stairs at Corson's hand... a ploy he had tried himself against the imposter-guard atop Bardenhold's battlements, to less success. Hissing bitterly through clenched teeth, ego as bruised as his body, he snapped his gaze back to the hired killer struggling to reach him.
Lan used the shield raised high to protect his head and breast as a screen as he hefted his weapon to the left, then flicked the shield aside and uncoiled his arm and shoulder (ignoring the pain of tearing flesh around the bolt burrowed into it, or rather pushing through it with mule-headed stubbornness), bringing the crow's bill around in a devastating half-circle.
The gambit worked perfectly, and the six-inch beak of blued steel dug into the ribs of the enemy with a greenstick crackle of bone and a pop of ruptured lung.
"...BUT TO ALL MEN'S FEAR!" he finished he recitation with a triumphant bellow, secretly as a surprised as anyone by his success.
Lan used the shield raised high to protect his head and breast as a screen as he hefted his weapon to the left, then flicked the shield aside and uncoiled his arm and shoulder (ignoring the pain of tearing flesh around the bolt burrowed into it, or rather pushing through it with mule-headed stubbornness), bringing the crow's bill around in a devastating half-circle.
The gambit worked perfectly, and the six-inch beak of blued steel dug into the ribs of the enemy with a greenstick crackle of bone and a pop of ruptured lung.
"...BUT TO ALL MEN'S FEAR!" he finished he recitation with a triumphant bellow, secretly as a surprised as anyone by his success.
Jun 4, 2025 3:22 am
"WELL STRUCK!" Tovrunn shouted as Lancaelad landed a mighty blow ok their enemy's chest. Stepping forward, Tovrunn pulled another luminous arrow and loosed it at the man whose appearance was justly timed. "You are mighty, my beloved!"
Looking behind her, she snapped fire to life and made her way to the short wall, tossing it down almost casually amongst the two enemies standing there before retreating to her fiance's side. "Take care, Green Squire," she cautioned. "I've not the magicks to heal you any longer."
Looking behind her, she snapped fire to life and made her way to the short wall, tossing it down almost casually amongst the two enemies standing there before retreating to her fiance's side. "Take care, Green Squire," she cautioned. "I've not the magicks to heal you any longer."
Jun 4, 2025 3:22 am
With the attacker Arglwyddes had harried swiftly falling to Lancaelad's steel, Breuddwyd risked a peek over the side to fasten the dread misfortune of his magic elsewhere. Better to finish each threat quickly and completely.
"Newid safleoedd," he whispered, assigning the same sort of curse upon the arbalist he saw there. He followed that with the words and gestures to release a fiery bolt just after. "Adain dân."
Then he ducked low behind the barricade, hoping to avoid the appearance of any fresh holes in his Sidhelien head.
"Newid safleoedd," he whispered, assigning the same sort of curse upon the arbalist he saw there. He followed that with the words and gestures to release a fiery bolt just after. "Adain dân."
Then he ducked low behind the barricade, hoping to avoid the appearance of any fresh holes in his Sidhelien head.
Jun 4, 2025 3:24 am
Breuddwyd's spell burst on the soot-blackened leathers of the crossbowman on the stair, startling him but failing to ignite. Mebhaighl was a capricious energy, and there was neither time nor use for cursing ill fortune. Not when their pursuers seemed to keep coming. Even from his vantage the grim spellwielder could see another enemy peeking around the base of the stair. It seemed that they'd diverted as many bodies as they could to the rear of the inn.
At the sound of a cry the sidhe turned to see the increasingly-familiar shining outline of Tovrunn fell one of the already-wounded warriors up the corridor, leaving just a single foe blocking their way for the moment.
There was a crash and the sound of breaking crockery beyond the ice-sealed door, then a frustrated grunt. But guessing at what was happening in the proprietress' personal quarters was moot since enemies were advancing on their own barricade. Denied both Green Knight and sidhe for a target the Brecht and the man with the now-scorched armour loosed their bolts at Tovrunn instead, but the space between bed and arch proved too tight and the bolts thudded harmlessly into the timbers above. Even as they did Breuddwyd heard the garish warrior bark "break it down" and he felt the barricade at his back judder violently at a heavy blow.
Left with the choice of taking cover or closing for battle, the mercenary in the hall chose to take advantage of Lancaelad's bottleneck by charging the increasingly ragged knight with his blade ready. The knightly deftly wove around a flurry of downward blows, before catching the upward slash on his armoured wrist and turning it aside with effortless ease.
At the sound of a cry the sidhe turned to see the increasingly-familiar shining outline of Tovrunn fell one of the already-wounded warriors up the corridor, leaving just a single foe blocking their way for the moment.
There was a crash and the sound of breaking crockery beyond the ice-sealed door, then a frustrated grunt. But guessing at what was happening in the proprietress' personal quarters was moot since enemies were advancing on their own barricade. Denied both Green Knight and sidhe for a target the Brecht and the man with the now-scorched armour loosed their bolts at Tovrunn instead, but the space between bed and arch proved too tight and the bolts thudded harmlessly into the timbers above. Even as they did Breuddwyd heard the garish warrior bark "break it down" and he felt the barricade at his back judder violently at a heavy blow.
Left with the choice of taking cover or closing for battle, the mercenary in the hall chose to take advantage of Lancaelad's bottleneck by charging the increasingly ragged knight with his blade ready. The knightly deftly wove around a flurry of downward blows, before catching the upward slash on his armoured wrist and turning it aside with effortless ease.
Jun 4, 2025 6:05 am
It was hard to forget the sound of a man's lifeforce exiting his body via a puncture in his flank – the wet, fleshy whistle of breath escaping; the pink foam of aerated blood that stained the floor as he fell. Lancaelad wrenched his crow's bill from the man's collapsed form, his bolt-pierced shoulder groaning in complaint.
It was hard to forget the sound, but easy to overlook it in the moment as the trembling thrill of battle filled his veins, the thudding relief of having won another heartbeat of time, the surging clamour of proving himself better than this rabble.
The knight's cheeks flushed with more than anger and hot blood as he heard Tovrunn's call of approval. Measuring the distance as the next enemy approached, he risked a glance back at the Rjurik woman. "And you are..."
His tongue caught like a rabbit in a trap, and his eyes widened in awe as he beheld the sight of her for a few moments too long. Her skin, burnished the blue-black of night's cloak, glimmering with intricate and ominous patterns of diamond stars. "...radiant," he finished breathlessly, before the clank of steel and creak of leather reminded him of the enemy at hand. He barely turned back in time to avoid the strikes raining down on him and parry what could have been a cut to open his belly, feeling the force of it bruise his forearm.
"You cannot win, churl," he spat, using his shield to push close to the mercenary, close enough to smell the rot of his teeth and spit to fleck each other's face as they struggled. Lan tried to swing his crow's bill but the warrior shoved against his arm, making the blow go wide. On the backswing, Lan managed to clip him with the back of the head rather than the bill, scraping a red gouge in the mercenary's upper leg. "You can only fall, or flee!"
It was hard to forget the sound, but easy to overlook it in the moment as the trembling thrill of battle filled his veins, the thudding relief of having won another heartbeat of time, the surging clamour of proving himself better than this rabble.
The knight's cheeks flushed with more than anger and hot blood as he heard Tovrunn's call of approval. Measuring the distance as the next enemy approached, he risked a glance back at the Rjurik woman. "And you are..."
His tongue caught like a rabbit in a trap, and his eyes widened in awe as he beheld the sight of her for a few moments too long. Her skin, burnished the blue-black of night's cloak, glimmering with intricate and ominous patterns of diamond stars. "...radiant," he finished breathlessly, before the clank of steel and creak of leather reminded him of the enemy at hand. He barely turned back in time to avoid the strikes raining down on him and parry what could have been a cut to open his belly, feeling the force of it bruise his forearm.
"You cannot win, churl," he spat, using his shield to push close to the mercenary, close enough to smell the rot of his teeth and spit to fleck each other's face as they struggled. Lan tried to swing his crow's bill but the warrior shoved against his arm, making the blow go wide. On the backswing, Lan managed to clip him with the back of the head rather than the bill, scraping a red gouge in the mercenary's upper leg. "You can only fall, or flee!"
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