The Raid of The Broken Blade Keep

[Azrael]

31 Ymiden 719 | Azrael Blackfire | Bastard's Grove

Thank the Immortals for that damn bard. Azrael thought when he heard the familiar but somewhat more menacing voice shouting out from behind the trio left to kill him. He tightened his grip on his sword and began to surge forward when his breath caught in his throat and he began to cough painfully. His eyes began to glow and orange-red hue and his face began to revert to it's original appearance. It was a vain attempt to try and stop the pain in his throat by physically changing it... but the pain remained.

Fortunately the trio of Limpy, Sir No-Grip, and Lazy Arm were all injured and not at all confident they'd be able to kill the Avriel who'd apparently dispatched of their roof forces. Lazy Arm, who had dropped his shield in the time since due to the arrow protruding from his left shoulder and making his shield arm limp, weakly raised his short sword towards Kalortah. When the Avriel reached Lazy Arm he could expect a swift downward slash towards the bird's shoulder and a very slow reaction time.

Meanwhile Limpy and Sir No-Grip were in retreat and naturally one was more successful than the other in that regard. Limpy stumbled and fell over a table while sir No-Grip reached Azrael. He hadn't intended to reach the assassin, he was just trying to escape the mad Avriel who was attacking them but when he did reach Azrael, the assassin sheathed his short sword in Sir No-Grip's neck. This gave Limpy time to rise and prepare himself. Limpy still had his buckler shield and bastard sword.

Limpy moved slowly forward to Azrael who parried the first blow well but when he swung and his sword collided with Limpy's shield it sent a wave of pain through Azrael's arm and ribs. To be fair, with the cut on his leg Azrael wasn't walking so perfectly either. He stumbled backwards, shuttering somewhat in pain and Limpy tried to advance only for a similar pain in his leg to slow him. Limpy thrust his bastard sword out to try and impale the assassin but Azrael managed a parry which sent another uncomfortable shiver through his body. Luckily his strike seemed to set Limpy off balance so Azrael drove his short sword forward. Limpy moved his shied in to block the strike but he was too slow and only knocked the blade aside a few inches so that rather than pierce his heart, it pierced his lung.

Limpy gasped a gargling gasp and coughed blood as he fell to the ground, dying. Azrael on the other hand, fell over onto the floor- alive but very much uncomfortable.

[Kalortah]

Adrenaline was running low as Kalortah entered the fray against the men on the lowest floor. This meant his fatigue from all that he’d been doing was beginning to catch up to him. So when Lazy-arm attacked his shoulder, it was all he could do to ignore the blow, and barely was able to get his own saber up for a deflection.

The blade was deflected, but grazed a cut into his left arm. The avriel cursed wordlessly at that. Although his body was mostly drained of energy, there was still some spirit of battle left in him. He binded his sword with the other man’s, holding it against the ground. Then, with his right wing-tip blade of his valance, sent it across the man’s neck with a quick buffet. This drew blood from Lazy-arm’s throat, and the man fell gargling to the ground.

Kalortah followed him there, collapsing on all fours, exhausted for all the effort he’d expended, all while bearing armor. His lungs burned as he panted, trying to catch his breath.

”Is… is this it? What more do we have to do? I tell you, Ger, we need a breather after all of that. Flying is thirsty work.” Kalortah coughed as he bent over the ground, and slowly rose to his feet. With another glance toward the treasure hunter, he quirked a weary brow, ”We are done, aren’t we? What exactly did we come here for again?”

Kalortah didn’t know if he had much more fight left in him, before they’d have to rest. Or else he’d have to ditch the armor. Nevertheless, it’d been a good venture.

[Azrael]

31 Ymiden 719 | Azrael Blackfire | Bastard's Grove

"It's alright to call me, Azrael." Azrael replied from where he was laying on the floor. It felt more comfortable than standing for sure and it definitely beat fighting. After a few trills, Azrael mustered the strength to sit upright, sending a strange burning sensation through his abdomen. He pushed himself onto his feet using aching arms and stood uncomfortably looking around. He gestured to the body of Sandor lying on the floor. "I was worried he might survive and send more people after me but..." Azrael's voice trailed off but the point should have been clear. The deception didn't matter because Sandor was dead. All of the Broken Blade mercenaries were dead. Azrael grabbed a cloth from one of the tables to wipe the lingering blood off his weapons as best he could, then he began to slowly limp around, collecting arrows to refill his quiver before picking up his bow again.

Azrael stumbled about the great hall once again, collecting two tin cups. He offered one to Kalortah and then returned to his circling around the room while he looked for something for the two of them to drink. "I thought there would be more of them. Guess not though. You want a drink here or should we head back to Yaralon? I'm buying, you earned it." Azrael's words came out with a slight wheezing to them. He was in pain, but he'd heal given time. Syroa had assured him of that. All he could really think about at the moment- despite the pain he felt, was how relieved he was that he'd invited the singing bard to join him. "How did it go on the roof?"

[Kalortah]

"Good glory, I'm glad this is over. I don't think my wings can take anymore." Kalortah said, as he rose to his feet. He looked thoughtfully around at the mercenary's handiwork. It seemed he'd done some good damage on his own, and even without the aid of wings or a killer voice. Kalortah was actually impressed! Rare enough for one that wasn't an avriel to achieve that, but kudos where it was due.

He nodded at Azrael's offer of a drink. "That sounds good. I haven't tried that famous purple whiskey that Yaralon is so famous for yet."

The avriel bard shook of the remaining blood off of his wing tips and sword, and then sheathed the sword in its scabbard. "It went... actually fairly easily on the roof, until I started tiring. As soon as I surprised the lone sentry on the roof, I let out a huge screeching battlecry, that must've gotten attention from the lower floors. So after the man on the roof was disposed of, I took to the air. Why you humans never think to look over your head when rushing into an ambush, I'll never understand. Anyway, the sentry had bolts on him which I took into the air, and began dropping them on the men. It took all 64 or so bolts to drop before I hit all three of the men who came to the top.

Kalortah quirked a brow at the mercenary, tapping his foot and crossing his arms, "It seems you've done fairly well down here as well. I must admit I'm impressed with how you managed without the ability to fly, or scream at people to set them off balance, but to each their own..."

[Azrael]

31 Ymiden 719 | Azrael Blackfire | Bastard's Grove

"You haven't tried the purple whiskey yet? Well we shall have to remedy that shortly." Azrael replied confidently before giving a pained cough accompanied by a heave or two. He'd definitely need to see someone about the pain in his ribs but it was his throat- which felt as if it was on fire, that hurt him the most. Kalortah's tale of combat on the roof was entertaining for Azrael to say the least. He had the most strange image in his head of Kal flapping his wings and dropping crossbow bolts which probably was less graceful than it really had been but that was where Azrael's mind went.

"I think it's just panic. Give us enough time and we look up eventually.." Azrael said when Kalortah questioned why humans never looked up. Azrael couldn't deny that when he was in a fight he generally thought of the problems in front of and around him but he didn't think of the dangers above often enough. He'd have to pay more attention to that in the future. When Kal assessed Azrael's work down below, Azrael gave a slight shrug. "I was doing fine with my bow until they got close. Then the big one snuck up on me- I was distracted," Azrael interrupted himself to explain how the largest of the mercenaries got the drop on him "but nobody seems to think about this." Azrael flicked his wrist back and his father's spring-loaded dagger popped out of the gauntlet it was concealed in. Then Azrael pressed it back in and looked around for anything of value to loot though he didn't see much value left.

"Alright, see anything you want lying around or do you wanna head out? I heard there were some cool rocks in Emea, we could pick up some of those on the way?" Azrael offered. He had to admit that the mercenary company had been a bust as far as treasure went.

[Kalortah]

Kalortah began by smiling, a weary smile but a smile nonetheless, at the offer of purple whiskey. He listened politely as Azrael went through his recounting of the battle below the keep. All told, he didn’t have much to say, other than to show Kalortah his secret weapon, a spring-loaded knife in his sleeve. The avriel nodded appreciatively, clapping his hands at the trick.

But then, the conversation took a rather uncouth turn, in Kalortah’s opinion, when Azrael invited Kalortah to a scavenger hunt. For rocks. In Emea.

”Hrmph, I’m not much of one for scrounging pieces of dirt out of some hellish landscape. But feel free! I won’t ask for a share myself. I’ve no need of those things.”

He ruffled his wings, clanking the valance together uncomfortably. ”While you’re busy collecting rocks, I’ll just go off toward the exit, wherever that might be. I’ll meet you in the same place, how’s that? I’ve had enough of dirt and blood and grime for the life of me.”

Having said this, Kalortah took his leave of the assassin, and moved off toward the horizon, back towards Bastard’s Grove. Once he got a good distance away, the wind was favorable and he was beginning to get his energy back, he took to the skies, catching the wind on his wings and flying off into the sunset.

He’d meet Azrael sure enough in the tavern, where they could boast of their feats in relative safety. Hopefully none of the Yari would want to duel them after hearing what they did.

[Praetorum]

Review Pending

[Doran]

Azrael:

Knowledge:
Blades x 6
Endurance x 3
Discipline x 2
Ranged x 2

Loot: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: Cut in the side of his leg, bruises on his back. Since this was so long ago, Azrael is fine again though.
Renown: 15, for a successful raid.
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: In the review request you stated that Azrael had Novice Blades. What he did, didn't really seem like Novice level to me though. You are Competent now though which is better!
Points: 15

Kalortah:

Knowledge:
Intimidation x 6
Thrown Combat x 1
Singing x 5
Flying x 1

Loot: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: Cut in his left arm. Healed by now.
Renown: 15, for a successful raid.
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.
Points: 15

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Comments: I liked that you wrote about your preparations. That is an important aspect of a raid!

The action in this thread was well-written and enjoyable to read.

Dropping the missiles upon the roof was quite a clever idea!

Kal should have tried to be a little more stealthy though!

Anyway, great job, and enjoy your rewards!