Kalortah stood over the bloodied corpse of the man for a few moments. He stood for a few moments, before the voice booming from below made him realize, he was going to have company! It sounded like at least three sentries rushing to the roof. The avriel would have to think quick, and make his decision.
Kalortah looked over the marksman he’d killed, and the bloodied saber in his hand. Without too much more time spent considering the situation, he shook the blood from the blade and sheathed it. This done, he rummaged through the marksman’s gear, finding at least three satchels full of quarrels, about three quivers, sixty projectiles in all. They were made of metal, and would fall well.
This gave Kalortah a wicked if foolhardy idea. While he’d need training to actually
use a crossbow, he could very simply drop the missiles en mass upon the sentries rushing to the roof. He’d only need to gain some altitude.
So without another thought, he slung these quivers over his shoulder, and ran to the edge of the roof, leaping into the air to take flight. His powerful wings carried him upward on a stray wind, and it didn’t take him long to reach a few hundred feet over the scene. He kept spiraling upward, climbing the air like a ladder until he could just about see the tiny figures of men emerging onto the roof of the keep.
Then, it was time.
Kalortah took a handful of the iron quarrels from one of the quivers. His eyes adjusted to the wind currents, trying to determine how the improvised darts might fall. In another moment, he was dropping the darts down upon the roof.
Leopold emerged onto the roof, and took a quick look around. “The fuck is this?! They killed our marksman, but how? Where did the attacker go?!”
Mills looked all around, trying to figure that out for himself. He approached the dead body of the crossbowman, and knelt over him. “He’s dead alright, slash wounds… But how did they get away.”
Strauss meanwhile had his eyes on every shadow, looking for a potential attacker crawling out of every crevice and nook and cranny. His eyes darted, but then, as a whistling sound filled the air, he gulped.
The whistling began as a distraction at the periphery of one’s hearing. Something distant, perhaps the wind. Then, it began changing pitch, until it reached a critical mass.
Clank, click, clink!
The quarrels began falling on the roof.
Leopold moved forward, to check the site where one of these missiles had fallen. He furrowed his brow, inspecting the broken missile as it lay on the surface of the roof. His look of curiosity turned to incredulity, as another dozen whistling quarrels descended on the rooftop, peppering the very spot where they’d fallen.
Including one that hit Leopold right in the top of his skull. Several more entered his body like a pin cushion.
Mills looked over his shoulder, “The fuck you looking at Leo? Get over hear and check this body!”
But Leopold didn’t answer, but merely tipped over, falling to the ground, dead. His blood made a pool under him as the moments turned.
Mills stood up straight at that, and then to Strauss, “Get out! Back in! They’ve got fliers, they’ve got fliers! Go go go!”
With that said, Mills ran for the trapdoor leading back into the keep. Strauss was frozen in place, holding his shield over his head.
Kalortah meanwhile was getting the hang of dropping missiles on land-walkers. It didn’t take all that much skill, but often enough his missiles missed the roof entirely. Yet the more he threw, the more that actually met a mark.
So, as he saw them beginning to notice him, he began dropping the quarrels more recklessly, and widespread. Flying wider circles around the roof to drop the quarrels down on it. He emptied the last of them, and then drew his saber.
Another round of whistling darts filled the air, Mills had his hand on the latch of the trapdoor, when they fell on him. This time the hit wasn’t very lucky on part of the flier, and hit him in non-vital points. Several piercing the hide of his back, and one more in his hand, pinning it to the trapdoor.
“Ahhh fuck!” He shouted, “Strauss, Strauss, help me?!”
But Strauss was busy cowering underneath his shield, venturing a look above from time to time, but for the most part attempting to duck his head into the sand.
“Fucking coward!” Mills winced as his free hand grabbed for the iron quarrel, trying to worry it free of the wood beneath, and free of his hand. He groaned for a few moments, and was about to free his hand, when the sound of a blade slicing through the air sounded.
Shink!
Mill’s eyes went wide, as he realized he’d been stabbed in the back while vulnerable. “Fucking… Coward!” Were his last words, as he fell upon the trap door.
Kalortah had landed beside him, and shook the blood free of his blade before turning to face the remaining warrior on the roof. The avriel was tired, and hadn’t anticipated how much energy it’d take to do all that he had. Usually flying came as second nature to him, but all of this ancillary activity of dropping darts, dive-slashing the bandits, and fighting had taken a lot out of him.
But the remaining shield-bearing bandit didn’t need to know of his weakness.
Kalortah squinted at him, and held his saber in front of him threateningly. Strauss stood up, holding his shield up and his club. Kalortah could see his hand shivering in its grip of the waepon. He would seek to use that to his advantage.
”My advice, is to drop those toys and run knave!” With that said, Kalortah began charging, spreading his impressive wings, valanced by cobalt and steel feathers.
Strauss’s eyes widened, as he threw down his club, but kept the grip on his shield. He didn’t have time to release it. But that worked in Kalortah’s favor.
Strauss ran away, backpedaling but keeping his shield up and in the way of any incoming attacks. Kalortah was on him in moments, taking a flying leap over toward him. He chopped at the shield, hacking at the surface and edges. Barely any damage was done, given Kalortah’s lack of arm strength and lack of skill. But the attack had the intended effect, in that it intimidated Strauss backward.
At the last moment, as Kalortah drove him back toward the edge of the tower, he bent his legs at the knee, and paused a moment. Strauss, who’d been holding his shield frantically fending off attacks, chanced to look over the shield. Just in time to see Kalortah rushing forward, taking off into the air and pushing him off the tower in the process.
Strauss’s screams filled the air as he fell from the roof. Meanwhile, Kalortah perched over it, looking at the scene in the courtyard. He wondered how Azrael might be doing about now, and if he should finally make his way into those claustrophobic halls…
