Fantasy RPG Forum - Standing Trials

Posted: **Thu Dec 19, 2019 5:27 pm**

Vhalar 3rd 719

-‡- The flames had done more than merely revealed the antechambers and alcoves that had become niches in the walls and ceilings of the cavernous chamber. For after the moments of illumination and scourings of heat passed through the air, and the dismalness of the torches remaining providance of light were left, the sounds of skittering movements became alive, and were approaching from a tunnel that they had not ventured through yet.

It was this tunnel that drew the attention of the other avriel. Swords were heard being torn back from sheaths by arms still bearing the added preludes of adrenaline to muscles that were still awake from their combat that only a few were still out of breath over. The few and the youngest. Coroths own eyes narrowed at first to the notion that more arachnids were still ready to die, or attempt to get rid of such superior beings. His head was inclining towards the tunnel, as if the anticipation of combat wasn't enough, nor his ego too high that he would not get out of the way. For he was the closest one to the entryway, and only a bow in hand. A drawn breath serrated through the flesh of his nostrils as his body eagerly wove back into life's menace.

Muscles along his arms were already taut from wielding the hand-crafted makings of a bow. Arms that were ready to wield it till his fingers would bleed if he had to, or he ran out of arrows. Even now, there was a reminding sting to his finger tips from the tension of the bow string that strained at the flesh during use. The weight of sheathed blades upon his back were felt, luring his mind to wield them instead, encouraging him to get into the thick of it like the others.

"Coroth, get into position, NOW!" Words were spoken with that femininely commanding tone of authority over him. His mind wasn't one to spite such an order, he in turn spooled forth his eagerness to get into it with his blades and released them from his mind in the same moments. He made a quick bolt to get into the back of the line of avriels. A vanguard position was formed with the archers taking up a position in front of their exit if they had to put it to use. As the few remaining avriel finished their searching of the dead, gathering looted coins and ancient jewelry, they became the last to get into position.

It was as the last of these winged men fell into place. Shields being hefted up, and blades shimmering against the light of the dancing flames of torches left upon the ground around them that the sounds of the creatures began to strike a semblance of fear, if not caution into their senses. For the creatures kept getting bigger, now perhaps they were more of a quantity.

"Quick..into the corridor…bottleneck formation!" Sheihra was her name, a name that flickered through his mind in voice recognition as her orders whisked over his ears. Dismally he backed up into the corridor behind them, the torches were taken up. One of them thrown behind them, whilst more were kept at the entrance of the tunnel, for they had feared fire earlier, and their heat could ward off their pursuit. Such went through the whispering tongues of one of the avriel at the front as such a tactic passed through their sharing minds.

It was when the last torch was tossed at the opening of the entryway near to them, that the arachnid creatures began spilling into the larger chamber beyond. Coroths eyes widened in perplexion as their sheer number began scrambling over walls that had been known to provide webbing for them to pass along. Some fell abruptly as they could not grasp what they were habitually used to frollicking upon. Others spread elsewhere within the room, leaping upon the already long dead bodies to determine if they were fresh. For they knew not the occurring's in the room.

Coroths intuition kicked in, nearly simultaneously with the others. Bows began releasing arrows into the small horde that began entering the chamber. Coroth watched as they didn't really need to aim, merely fire a barrage of their remaining arrows into their number beyond to hit one of their number. They're numbers though dwindled after a short length of moments. Or so it seemed. For their attentions were elsewhere besides the tide that came to flood the chamber with a maniacle amount of spidery limbs that could easily send eerie shivers into a peasants spine.

The larger bodies of the dead spiders became feasts that they began to pile upon till they were no longer visible. The sounds of their mandibles changing the tones of their screechings were audible in the air as they began to pierce the ears of the avriels. They watched as they fought for the easier prey, the ones that were already killed. They were hungry, if not starving it seemed, and heeded not any code of helping themselves out as individuals, or even as a family. But began to fight amongst themselves over the larger spiders that were perhaps a long time hindrance to them, or perhaps even some prior authority.

A few began to make it over the dead, towards the entryway and the heat of the torches where the whizzing of arrows were emitting from. The only other sound that filled the chamber besides their own arachnal cries and piercing wales of hunger and death that they fought over. It was these that spears began to weave over the wall of held shields to kill when one got too close. The shriek drawing the attention of others nearby to feast upon it. Their minds small and now closed upon the idea of eating. It took only moments for a small pile of their dead to begin to form in front of their wall of shields. And more continued to come who could not get onto the pile that were feasting upon the mounds in the chamber beyond.

Posted: **Thu Dec 19, 2019 6:02 pm**

Vhalar 3rd 719

-‡- It did not take long at all for Coroth to run out of arrows. The quivers upon his back only held around twenty each. The spider legs they had acquired were not even prepared to be used as arrows, but were put to hasted use anyways. They took a few moments longer as he had to pull the butt of it against the string, and hold it in place with notching fingers that strained not to twist the cord. For every time he tried to keep the unnotched end from sliding off from between his gripping fingers, he turned the cord inwards with his fist. And the latent end of the arrow was pulled away from the bow itself beyond. Thus, it took him a few moments to figure out how to fire them without crafting.

It was as the last of his ammo was emptied forth that the sounds of avriels grunting and wincing against the bashing of arachnids against their shields grew louder, and began to instensify the air aorund him. The arachnids were quick as they skittered into the tunnels opening to get at them. It was as well in those moments that he ended up harnessing his bow, fearing to toss it on the ground when they may be retreating in mere moments. His spear was drawn from his back, it was not a long one, but more suitable for a foot-man, and light enough for him to wield with dexterity over strength.

The spears tip was moved in over the heads of the avriels who filled the tunnel, Coroth wanted to see if there was an opening for him to put it to use. There were three lines of his kin in front of him. Shields were walled up touching the ground by the first row. A second row held shields over their heads. Whilst the third row were putting their spears to use with their advantage of reach without getting into harms way. There were only a few avriels in each line, the corridor was narrow, and provided the defense for their flanks.

It was as he approached closer with spear in chastising hands that the sound of one of the avriels near to him cursed before a smotch of webbing was shot into his face, sending him stumbling backwards. Coroth filled in his position almost hesitatingly, his spear was hefted over the line of avriel in front of him. He was quick to put his arms in front of his face to thwart any webbing that was sent his way, if any would. So as not to be a second victim. His spear meanwhile did not take but a moment to claim a target. The fangs of a spider on a mound of dead ones beneath it rose up as if about to pounce into the air.

The tip of his spear lethally was thrust towards it. It was an easy kill, one could not miss, though it did lunge into the air, being deflected by his spear that sent it into dissaray and into a wounded state on the ground below where it curled into a mass of jittering legs and cries of pain as it bled. Blood that joined the pooling tide that began drenching the soles of their boots, and feathered feet.

He felt his arms working, muscles flexing and writhing against flesh as the sharp end of the spear was sent again and again into the creatures beyond. Creatures that ran away as their numbers began to die away and pile before them. Whilst others did not even try to get in range. Some of their dead were eyed as they were pulled away, to be eaten before their very eyes just out of reach of their weapons. They were, perhaps too hungry. Or their hunger had overwhelmed them to a state that wasn't something the avriels were used to watching, or being so near to deal with. Their discipline was tested through gritting teeth and swearings at unfavored immortals.

Ferocity was heard spurring forth from their throats as anger welled within them, a rage with hatred against them that overpowered their more fragile cries and skittering of fangs and legs. At times, their exalting hollering's of rage and battle sent some of their smaller number skittering in retreat. For they were being killed, and no matter how hungry they were, they were not completely prone to dieng mindlessly.

Suddenly, another leapt through the air, and clung onto the shield nearby. Coroths eyes narrowed upon it, fear striking him for the shield bearer. Then he sent several quick thrusts into it's swell of a torso until it slid off from its grievous wounds. The wind strained upon his lungs as such repetitive use of the spear began to weigh upon his strengths, and endurings. Perhaps the others were growing tired as well. For some were panting whilst glands opened with sweat.

Suddenly, just as one spider failed, another leapt to try the attempt again, leaping through the air higher than the first, and passed by Coroths spear to cling onto his arms. The feel of it's legs prying into his arms, and the leather armor upon them sent a thrill of adrenaline through him. For the armor kept him from being pierced, or touched where it covered him. Yet, it was on him, and his arms fought to get its' grip on him loose. His spear became useless, a cry of utter overwhelming and fear of being bit or worse rushed through his lungs. Lungs that sent a rise of the light from the torches beyond to grow in size as they felt his argument against dying. They though, were not being fed enough from him to be of use..only feel and rage with him.

It was in another moment that one of the avriel nearby was not blind to his need for aid, even as he fell backwards in his pursuit of evading the creature further as its fangs pressed beyond the barrier of his blocking arms in front of him. For in the next moment, short blades were sent slicing through it's head and the exposed mouth before it could bite him. The spray of blood and gore spilling on top of him was released and slid over the leather of his cuirass to drench it in the darkening dye of its' goo.

He wasn't helped up, as another spider followed suit, and they had to contend with the remaining spiders who were eager enough to die such deaths. He had little choice but to hastily get back onto his feet. His spear became slippery in hands that were drenched in the gore. He managed to get onto his knees through heavily panting breaths and was about to rise when another spider lunged through the air and smacked into his spear as he was hefting it forwards to put it back into use. The spear was yanked out of his hands as the spider fell behind him. His hands, empty of a weapon, were quick to grasp at the hilts sheathed at the quiver behind him.

The steel of a sword was drawn free with adrenaline paced beatings of his heart. A heart that hammered in his chest with a trembling anxiety as he feared death, and the wounds that came before it. The fear that drew a blade he was not so versed to use. It though was sent in a slicing motion from behind him in its underhanded grip. A grip that was followed through with a stabbing down effort to finish it off as its legs were scattered across the floor, or at least a few of them that were hit.

A fierce rage filled the air as he finished its maimed state of being off. Echoing against the cavernous walls as if to tell it to try it again, then turned to face the chamber where it could come from in another body. His chest was felt boiling with rage and fierce muscles that quaked against flesh as he bellowed for them to come at him. For he began to love the way death was exhilarating his nerves, his mind, and the spirit that quaked along with the others in the tunnel.

Posted: **Thu Dec 19, 2019 6:06 pm**

Vhalar 3rd 719

-‡- For some reason, perhaps it was luck, the spiders ceased leaping upon their shields, ceased coming towards them all together. The flames of the torches beyond them at the mouth of the entrance were dancing more vividly, more angrily, mirroring Coroths menace and rage of battle. Though they were still short in size, and not large enough to do more than cause a passing burn to the arachnids that passed by them.

Coroth became puzzled in that brief moment. As if his own roar was the cause of their retreat. Though as his plaintively aware eyes fiercely searched for at least one more spider to leap onto him and die, he began to notice that there were not that many of them left. Even now, as the assault seemed to be over, as the dying ones still trembled, and cried in small whining noises as their blood left their penetrated wounds. Even then, as the carcasses of the large arachnids from earlier were revealed, for there was no small horde covering them up in feasting. Much of their bodies had been eaten away, revealing not much left but residue of blood and the weavings of their skeletal ligaments and other gore that one had to have a science in to recognize.

Breaths were teaming up within him, slowly calming down as he stood there, at the ready, though now disappointed as the threshold became deserted, and the fight was over. A few cursings were sent through the corridor, echoing after the retreating threat. Goading them to come at the avriels again, seemingly unheard in passing moments. Even Coroth cursed downwards, as if scolding his luck that it was over instead. In another bating breath, he became grateful he was still alive.

The line of avriel loosened then, and he gathered up his spear after sheathing his bloodied sword. Breaths were still passing notoriously through his nostrils as his body had become more worked up than normal through such fighting. For his life had been on the line, and his rage had filled him so thoroughly to leave him enthralling in the growth of his strength and abilities with his blades against the threat of death.

"You think were winning yet?" One of the other archers offered with a curious question, afraid still himself, for he was not nearly as bloody as Coroth, or had even been attacked in such a way.

Posted: **Tue Dec 31, 2019 5:29 am**

"Do you think we're winning yet?" The young soldier said next to Coroth, taking his eyes off of the enemy for but a moment. "I do, I feel strong, powerful putting these crea..." His voice was interrupted by a sharp sound, that resembled a twine stretched over so much leather. Then there was popping, and ripping. The young avriel man split in twain, covering Coroth's face in his blood, momentarily blinding him.

The rest of the avriel, fared only slightly better. The woman that commanded their unit called for a retreat, "Fall back! Too many, too many! Avriel fly!" The order given, she led the way out of the cavern. About half of the unit followed behind her, many of them falling to the sword-like pincers that had rent asunder the man who'd declared victory.

This left Coroth. If he tried to move, he would find his legs tripped up by a bit of strong webbing.

A purring tsk sounded from behind him, and then a monstrous yet feminine voice, "Oh do stay, young one. Just a moment?"

He would feel the spider web dragging him back, and with each foot he scraped against the cavern floor, more webbing wrapped its way up his feet, his legs, until they reached his hips. Then he saw her. Shining red eyes, a crown of pincers and arachnid teeth, and eight long legs that ended in sword-like appendages. She had the torso of a woman, to be sure, but her lower half was entirely arachnid.

Red eyes shone with dark malice as she pulled him into an embrace. If he brought any weapon to bear against her, she was sweep it aside easily. "So, you enjoy slaughtering my children. How much of their blood do you think you may have spilled this day?"

She didn't seem angered, or dismayed by her words. Each little 'child' to her was but a pawn, a piece to be maneuvered. Yet many had died in this cavern, and her domains suffered for it. However small the blow, it was a blow indeed. "Mmm... You look strong." She caressed his chest, and he found himself paralyzed by her mere gaze. Entirely helpless. "So healthy too..." Her eyes flickered, as she appeared to have a thought. Then she smiled at him, her fangs dripping with venom. "I can make use of you, yes? Your life, the lives of my children, and.... that delicious slave waiting for you at home?" Sintra licked her lips at the thought of making meals out them all. Yet there were needs greater than hunger. She'd lost numbers, and influence in this area today because of Coroth's unit. "You will do a service for me, or perhaps my children will pay a visit to that humble abode of yours? Just as I said, three lives, for three lives." She was being generous of course, as was Sintra's wont, to appear magnanimous when she had her fangs around her victim's neck. "Three infants, stolen from the Nest Keepers. Bring them to my servants, the spiders. Oh don't worry, no harm will come to those babes, if such troubles you. But you must repay the losses you have inflicted with a gift in kind."

She drew her sword-like leg across his cheek, dragging against the skin of his face. Not scarring, or biting into his flesh yet,but sampling his taste. "You will do this, bring the children before me, or you will bear my curse and my lasting hatred. If you do this task, I will allow your unit to continue its slaughter of this den of children, until it is finished. Let it not be said that I'm not generous."

"What will you say, Coroth, will you do me this favor?" Coroth would find the paralysis lifted, allowing him to speak at least, if not move anything else. However he answered, whether in the affirmative or not, he would find himself freed of her grasp, the feeling returned to his arms, legs, and core. His equipment was all nearby. But Sintra had vanished.

It seemed he had a task if he wished to undertake it. Sintra would be watching how he proceeded with interest.

!	Message from: Pig Boy
	FIrst thing, you need to date this thread. Date and arc. Every thread, even if they're continuations of others, need to be dated. There you go, my one-off mod-bomb. Feel free to write your reaction to all of this in your next post. When you're done, I'll give you your review rewards with a bit extra thrown in for your patience and cooperation.

Posted: **Wed Jan 01, 2020 6:53 pm**

-‡- Things suddenly took a turn, in directions that became unperceivable. There was only one of them who had a high enough of a perception to catch someone, or something sneaking up on them. But did it come from behind them? Or on the other side of their shield wall. All they could comprehend was that they were dying, and there was only one exit, the way they came from.

The commanding Avriels voice rose up in just that, a direct and near trembling voice attempting to give them the command to flee reached Coroths ears as the sound of their wings unfolding from the wall of shields and blades brushed by him in their expandings. Feathers were seen bellowing into the air where one or more wings had been cut through in the process of killing the avriels who had invaded the cavernous abode of the arachnids.

The sounds of the dying filled his senses in the few moments it took for their opponent to pass into their midst. For the opponent had many legs, compared to the avriels. And she was most skilled in their lethal use and precision. They did not expect the immortal to appear out of nowhere, or even to appear at all. Yet she did, and after a few breaths, Coroth found himself hindered from joining them in their flight. Legs bound In leather bindings of armor were wrapped about by webbing, webbing that was felt tightening higher and higher upwards till his movement to flee was completely prohibited.
He would have flown himself away, but the cavernous corridor was too narrow to truly give him that freedom. A deathtrap for many avriel who relied on such a means of movement, perhaps a reason why the spiders had thrived here for so long. No avriel wanted to risk entering an area where their wings could not be used. Where the attribute that allowed them to be superior to so many other races, was no longer of use.

It was when there were a handful of dead avriel warriors on the ground around him, bleeding profusely to the point where thin streams of blood began to weave along the stone floor at his feet. The dark crimson blood glimmered reflectively before the sauntering attention of the torches still nearby. Torches that portrayed who, or what he was dealing with. An entity unfamiliar to him, yet was now most feared for what she was capable of.

In moments following, she spoke to him, yet he found his voice as paralyzed as the rest of himself, or perhaps it was his fear of her and how she had killed so many of his kin that had stripped him of any confidence in being able to do a thing. Yet, she didn't kill him, but captured him instead. Who was he to argue if he was not to die like the others?

It was in those moments that perhaps his mind came in and out of focus. That perhaps the webbing had some ethereal influence on his conscience for in another moment, he no longer wore his gear, and he was being seduced by this mutated woman. Coroth was too filled with fear, and loathing for the blood that had coated his feet below, and still trickled soakingly at his soles.

The words that came to his ears were attuned to, yet he knew not how to answer her, or whether he would be capable of doing so. For his voice was stuck within his lungs, lungs that could scarcely breath let alone be used to produce a vocal utterance.

It was when she was done with him, and giving him a choice to do her bidding, or lose at least his slave girl to her doings that he questioned himself. What were the other 2 lives that would be lost. His no doubt was the only other one that came to mind. The most important of the three. He thus, told himself with a mutterance through his next breath.

"I seem to have little choice in the favor to be done. "

It was when he felt himself no longer stricken with the weight of underminding fear, that he felt himself able to move again. Yet, she was no longer there. His eyes darted around him to assure himself she wasn't out of sight behind him, but she was releivingly gone. He reached up towards his face as he felt a warm trickle trail along his cheek. A sting came from his flesh above his cheek as he touched at his face. Then more pain along the path that perhaps her sharpened legs had touched upon whilst he had been paralyzed, and perhaps unable to feel her touch in those moments, and the pain of opening flesh.

Attempting to be fully aware of his surroundings, he gathered his belongings, and reequipped himself as hastily as he could so he could follow the other avriels out of the cavern. Though how long had he been left behind? It took time to harness his armor onto himself, with hastily fidgeting fingers from being drowned in fear. Alone with the distant chitter of the spiders far away, in the distant tunnel that they had not ventured into yet. Lurking in the darkness, unseen, but heard, as if toying with him. They had won, they goaded him, taunted him, for their savior had arrived and killed them off at the peek of their victory.

The torches remained vigil in their watch the opening of the corridor into the chamber beyond. They revealed to him that none of the arachnid sought to approach him as they danced slowly in the air from the ground. When he was through standing in the midst of the dead avriel, an angered, hateful cringe was upon his face, for his flesh was felt healing, and a path of blood had been staunched by a cloth that was cut away from one of the dead on the floor below to wrap about his head, and the wound.

One of the torches would be taken up, as well as a few of the weapons of the dead which he knew would be honored if he kept them from becoming dust in these caverns. With such he took his leave, a hastening pace drawing at his breaths. When he was far enough down the corridor, he heard the sound of the chittering reaching the dead avriel, and the sounds of them feasting upon their bodies echoing along the walls to his ears. Causing him all the more reason to speed up, and reach the others.

Posted: **Tue Jan 07, 2020 9:04 am**

Coroth

Experience: 15

Knowledge:

Combat :Ranged -Bow: Don't pull too tightly on cord to grip arrow, it'll cause the other end to come off bow
Combat :Ranged -Bow Using the bow endlessly will cause your fingers to bleed.
Combat : Polearm - Spear: The lightness of a spear can allow you to make several consecutive stabs.
Tactic: Close quarters will require a sword, spears are too long for everything.
Strength: Strength grows faster with adrenaline in you.
Endurance: Continual fighting will put you out of breath.
Running: Spider Infestation (1/3)
Running: Spider Infestation (2/3)
Running: Spider Infestation (3/3)
Flying: Spider Infestation (1/2)
Flying: Spider Infestation (2/2)

Renown: 15 for surviving Sintra's Fury and receiving a task.

Skill Usage: Appropriate to level, maybe pushing it at times but you're part of a unit of soldiers so...

Loot/Losses: Some scrap equipment: 1 set of weapon of Average quality.

Injuries/Conditions: Laceration along his face over his eye.

Consequences: A task from Sintra that must be completed by the end of the season, or she will appear again to curse Coroth. (Capture three babes from the Nest Keepers, and give them to her servants, the spiders.)

Comments: Your style is wordy, that's for sure. But not a bad thing. However, at times I feel it might help readability to use more word economy.

Coroth is an interesting Avriel though, to react with such bravery in the face of near certain doom. Thankfully, Sintra wasn't hungry for him today, but just wanted a bit of respect for her kind in return for slaughtering the nest of her children. But man did they do some damage before Sintra arrived!

Enjoy the rewards.

If you have any concerns about this review, please PM me about them.

Fantasy RPG Forum - Standing Trials

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-‡- Spider infestation III -‡- (Mature) (Graded)

Re: -‡- Spider infestation IIl -‡- (Mature)

Re: -‡- Spider infestation IIl -‡- (Mature)

Re: -‡- Spider infestation III -‡- (Mature)

Re: -‡- Spider infestation III -‡- (Mature)

Re: -‡- Spider infestation III -‡- (Mature)