Jacobus grins at the man, "I can understand why you live out here, your dull wit must make it hard for you to cope with city life. I thank the Gods for small blessings like that."
Jacobus lunges forward hoping to take the man by surprise.
The man is indeed surprised as Jacobus' sword takes him in the stomach. He falls to the ground, bleeding badly, and looks up at Jacobus, "Mercy! It was just business! Spare my life, please!"
Jacobus stoops slightly toward his opponent on the floor. "Today's your lucky day, I never kill a man unless I have to." He then removes his weapon. Jacobus then looks around trying to determine just what is happening, spying Fyodorll he then attempts to sneak up on her and place his sword across her throat.
Jacobus leaves his fallen opponent to bleed in the corral, moving stealthily over to assist Marika.
"WATCH OUT!" Ullar's cry emerges high from the tree. The warrior, holding tight to the tree as if he was an elven Druid with tights, watches the battle from above, unable to do anything since this 'put Ullar in the sky'-spell is still active.
Oh, how he hungers for the time he fought in the Arena, where no magicks were involved. With his 6'3" the warrior, in his own experience, has not convinced the rest of the party of his abilities with his huge sword and Ullar starts cursing at himself, merely from disappointment.
Jacobus hears a warning cry from the treetops, however, and turns to see the blooded fellow has attempted to sneak up behind him. He is holding his wound with one hand and awkwardly thrusts with the other. The two exchange blows but find no purchase. Then with a quick feint, Jacobus draws the fellow into overexposing himself and skewers him between the ribs. The fellow falls with a sickening gurgle.
When the man falls Jacobus says quietly, "You should've took your chance at life my friend." He then moves to aid Asif, checking that he is still alive and stemming the bleeding. He is able to do so, and is once again amazed at the endurance of the young foreigner to pain. His injuries are severe enough to kill a lesser man, surely. Seeing that Asif has stabilized, he turns to assess the current situation.
Forte grabs Leslie's arm with his free hand, shouts, "The book!" and dashes off toward the book, avoiding the fight (he hopes) and worrying about the effects of his "cowardice" later.
The small elven woman intercepts him on his way toward the book, though, as that is where she is coming from. She slashes at him quickly, but he manages to dodge the blow. Though he masses nearly twice her size, she is of such an aspect that she will not be displaced easily.
Rhune places herself squarely in front of the larger man. Her deep purple eyes glittering like two amethysts, there are tears at the corner of her eyes, "All for a few horses that don't even belong to you," she utters between clenched teeth. As she prepares to do anything to keep the book from him and the elven witch. She is not really paying that much attention to the other battle between the woman and the other man at the moment.
Forte yells at the woman with the purple eyes, "I don't want to hurt you just give me the book!" He keeps his sword ready, though, just in case she won't listen to reason.
Her eyes glittering, "You want the book you come and get it. Sam died for it. And your boss is ready to kill for it. It obviously shows that she is wrong about the horses." Rhune utters as she glares at the big man daring him to come through her. She is not really thinking at the moment that she probably doesn't stand a chance against him, especially in her state of dress.
Xania rides forward boldly, "Why don't you pick on someone your own size," she drawls, smiling at the man wickedly even as she draws a dagger from her sleeve and makes ready to throw it.
Forte sheaths his sword and reaches for the book, clearly not overly threatened by the slight, unarmored and lightly armed women. Glaring at old purple-eyes, and saying defiantly, "He shouldn't have stolen the book.."
Xania attempts to stop the man from regaining the book. She stands next to Rhune with the pair of them blocking Forte's access to the book. Though he does not appear to wish them harm, they bar him from regaining that which their small friend lost his life obtaining.
Rhune replies to Forte's comment, "And she shouldn't have stolen the horses either or take advantage of Taras' plight. So where does that leave us? We all die because of her greed. Not only us, but Taras' family. His wife and family. Everyone. Is that what you want? Is that what you want to have on your conscience?" she utters in a tight voice.
"Like it or not, she did buy the horses from goblins. I witnessed the deal myself," Forte stammers in response. He continues to glare at this unusual woman, though his adrenaline level has begun to ebb during the conversation. And his slightly weakened glare indicates that he had become a little less sure of himself.
"Goblins, smogoblins. The deal was silly to begin with. Do you honestly think that horses of that caliber ever belonged to goblins? Do you honestly think that your mistress didn't know that something was wrong. No elf would have trusted a deal like that in the first place. She is simply greedy and knew that the goblins would take anything. She swindled them and she is cheating Taras out of his family's livelihood all for a few extra coins. Makes me sick that she and I are racially related. Thieving is one thing, taking advantage of others is another," she utters, though her own adrenaline is ebbing somewhat, Rhune is still sounds adamant. Her determination to keep him from the book is still there. She continues to inch forward and toward the woman and Marika. She is ready for anything.
Rhune glares at the big man in front of her. Noticing out the corner of her eye Marika's fall, "The horses are Taras'. You know that and I know that. Your mistress is a liar, thief and a murderer. Help us. I do not want to see any more friends die because of her and her greed," she utters in a very low whisper through clenched teeth. She starts to inch forward and to the side toward the woman, though if the big man in front of her makes for the book she will step back in front of it. She will not let him get it.
"So thieving is o.k.?" Fortes ask, astonished. "Well, great, she stole the horses. He stole the book. Let's call it even." He turns to leave and starts walking over to Leslie, having not paid attention to what is going on over in that portion of the fight.
Rhune sighs with great relief. She looks sideways at Xania and smiles, "At least we avoided that fight. Let's go see about Marika," she whispers to her companion. She begins to head over in that direction.
As Marika reaches the edge of the woods, she sees that the taller of the men has engaged in combat with Rhune while the smaller, an incredibly well-muscled specimen, has not budged from his position alongside the wagon. Marika mocks casting a spell, at which Fyodorll ducks back. Realizing that the spell has not taken effect, she emerges once again and clouts the stout fellow in the back of the head, "Are you deaf? I said kill her!" The massive fellow does not move in the slightest, though, merely looking back at her impassively.
"Damned dunce!" Fyodorll draws her own sword and strides down the steps of the wagon, "What have I paid you for?" She seems enraged beyond belief to see that her men in the corral have been defeated. She brings her sword up in a vicious arc, aiming at Leslie's head.
Bringing up his great sword, Leslie attempts to block her stroke. He does not take an aggressive stance, but rather just defends himself.
Marika pauses at the clearing's edge, confused. Her attempt to serve as a decoy has clearly fallen into the "entirely unsuccessful" category. But what in the name of the Lady is happening now? Xania must have had an extra spell up her sleeve, she realizes -- something to sow discord among Fyodorll's allies. She smiles to see that Ullar has managed to take refuge in a tree before the elven magician could drop him from a great height. But then she spots Asif, down and clearly in great pain, and Rhune, facing an opponent who must outweigh her three to one.
Marika glances toward the spot where she dropped her staff, but it would take too long to recover it. Instead, she sprints back toward the wagon, letting momentum be her weapon as she prepares to take Rhune's opponent in the back with a flying body slam.
Fyodorll, meanwhile, appears to have gathered her senses a bit and stops herself from attacking the mass of muscle in front of her. "Kill them and the horse you shall have!" she practically screams at Leslie. Marika is charging toward Forte from behind as he engages in argument with Rhune. Fyodorll turns her sword in that direction, slashing viciously at Marika's head. She attempts to dodge the blade, but is only partially successful. She avoids what surely would have been a killing stroke, but the flat still smashes into her left temple, dizzying and staggering her. As she blinks away the pain and the wetness she feels on her cheek, she flails madly in an attempt to defend herself, and clouts the woman's cheek with her fist, though it possessed nothing near the strength necessary to brain her.
Fyodorll is a mass of fiery temper, though, and lunges at Marika again. Her dizziness does not allow her to fully dodge the blow, and the blade slashes her neck. She falls to the ground as blood spatters the ground and the elven woman, and it continues to flow freely. Fyodorll looks with a broad smile about for another opponent.
Marika hits the ground hard, stunned. Unsure what has happened, she struggles for consciousness. Her neck hurts, and what is this in her face? Grass?
No, she realizes then, it's cobwebs. The webs that always collect in the corners of this dingy mildewed corridor in Mrs. Giacci's boarding house. She looks up defiantly into the florid face of Leonard, the drunk from the next room, daring him to hit her again.
"Dammit Leonard, you gotta help me get Mother to the temple," she shouts, her voice somewhere between a command and a desperate plea. "There's no one else here! She's burning up; she's got the Fever!"
"Then why would I wanna go near that slut," rumbles Leonard. Even from the floor, Marika can smell the sickening mixture of cheap rum and rotting teeth that is Leonard's breath. "An' what makes you think M'nerva's monks'd help that bitch anyway? She don't even pray to a real god. I've heard her through th' wall, y'know, worshippin' some foreign goddess. 'Thena or sumptin."
"It's the same thing; it's just names," the little girl protests. "Even Brother Augustine said so!" She glares up at the drunk in desperate frustration. "If you don't help me, Leonard, I'm gonna tell Gina that you got the clap!"
"What?" Leonard kicks her hard in the ribs. "Whaddaya know about that, ya little whore? What are you, six years old and you're talkin' like that?"
"I'm nine," Marika spits defiantly. "And I'm old enough to slit your throat next time you're passed out drunk, unless you help me get Mother to the temple right now!"
She struggles to stand, but her head is spinning, and her limbs are numb. The pain in her neck is burning, agonizing, and she falls back to the dank floor. It feels oddly soft. A strange thought drifts through her mind -- "But it didn't happen this way; I stood up and he hit me again. But then Mrs. Giacci got home and..." Wait, what on Earth did that mean, she wonders. She tries to focus on Leonard's face again, tries to speak, but the corridor is going dark and her voice makes no sound. Bewildered and ashamed, Marika sinks into darkness, knowing that she's taken too long, that it's too late...
Xania laughs a low husky laugh. Seeing Rhune seems to have the situation well in hand, she turns her horse and rides for the bitch that just hacked down Marika. She's going to try to use the horse and her riding skills to knock the woman down.
As she approaches, Xania smiles at the reluctant fighters, still playing with the dagger. "Look, you threw in with a real winner. You gentlemen seem nice enough. Help us out here." Though her smile is seductive in quality, it never reaches her eye. And she keeps looking toward Marika, quite worried about the other woman.
Fyodorll seems enraged even further that Forte has returned to her without killing Rhune or Xania. She looks up at the returning fighter and the women following him in desperation.
Seeing this turn of events, Leslie's mind again speeds into what action it can. He is clearly in hot water with his employer for letting things degenerate this far, and witnessing her hot temper and questionable moral fiber, his future employment prospects with her seem skimpy at best. He was also reluctant to attack this ragged band, who seemed to want nothing else than be elsewhere... This was not the kind of fighting he relished.
Sighing, and with premonition weighing heavily on his heart, he moves behind Fyodorll, raises his sword, and brings it down on the back of her head, hilt first, in hopes of merely knocking her out, and not bashing her brains out. He will deal with the consequences of his actions later.... he always has.
Leslie misses slightly, instead crashing into the back of her neck, but his strength is enough to make that a harsh blow. The much smaller woman crashes to the ground, stunned. Forte moves up and grabs her, seizing her weapon. She regains her senses quickly, but has no idea how to deal with this new threat. Her voice softens, and a deep throaty sensuality emerges, "I will give you anything, anything! Just stay loyal to me now and kill these women. I can do things for you that you cannot dream of. All the horses, my business, myself, all yours! Please!" she urges the two large men.
Meanwhile, Rhune has managed to stabilize Marika, who seemed very close to death. Both she and Asif do not appear to be stable enough to ride or be carried on horseback, though.
Ullar, however, is not in such good condition. Leslie's stunning blow to Fyodorll appears to have nullified her spell, and Ullar's full weight now hangs upon the branches, more than twenty feet up in the air. For now, he seems safe enough, but he fears that an attempt to climb down might result in quite a fall.
Jacobus counts 24 of the white horses that Taras spoke of along with eight other nice specimens of riding horses. Two larger horses roam among them, most likely the horses of the two massive bodyguards. The four leather-clad men are all quite dead, and though several of the horses bear minor injuries, all appear fit to travel.
You all hear a sound coming from the ground behind Taras' horse, and he jumps up to find the battle over with. "What happened?" he queries with a facade of strength. However, the injuries sustained in his fall from the horse seem to have added to the injuries of last night and taken their toll. He appears to be in quite bad shape, only walking about through force of will.
Asif groans under the administrations of Jacobus but is unable to fight through the cloud of pain to speak any words. He appears to be in pretty bad shape, but should recover with rest.
Rhune sighs but is still pleased that her companion will not die, at least at this moment. But a new question arises, how to get her and Asif back to the village without further endangering their lives? Oh well, for now this will have to do. There is still much to do. She quickly looks up to see what is happening with the woman and the two guards.
Leslie misses slightly, instead crashing into the back of her neck, but his strength is enough to make that a harsh blow. The much smaller woman crashes to the ground, stunned. Forte moves up and grabs her, seizing her weapon. She regains her senses quickly, but has no idea how to deal with this new threat. Her voice softens, and a deep throaty sensuality emerges, "I will give you anything, anything! Just stay loyal to me now and kill these women. I can do things for you that you cannot dream of. All the horses, my business, myself, all yours! Please!" she urges the two large men.
"I'd just as soon sleep with a banshee," Forte retorts. "These woman did nothing until *you* attacked them."
Forte continues to hold Fyodorll, pinning her arms behind her back, while the party searches her. If she makes any attempt to speak (spell cast), he clamps a hand over her mouth.
Fyodorll attempts to defend herself from Forte's accusation, but finds his meaty hand over her mouth before she can do so.
Seeing the one knock the woman down, Rhune smiles. Maybe they will help them now. She quickly returns to the book and grabbing it runs with it to her horse where she puts in the saddle bag. She then returns to Xania, the two men and the woman. She is still rather angry with the woman, which increases as she catches the last of what she said to the men. Looking up at the man that she faced just a moment ago, "See, even now her greed will not tell her that she has lost. She has no honor." To the woman, "If you had not been so greedy none of this would have happened. You and I both know that the horses were never the rightful property of the goblins. It is people like you that give us a bad name among the humans. Surrender now and we might let you live, continue this insane fight and you will die," she says to the woman in elvish.
Fyodorll mumbles helplessly behind Forte's palm.
Looking back to the big man, "Help us. We do not have much time. Our friend is still in the tree and in danger and our two friends are very hurt," Rhune says in a soft voice still trying to sway to their side. She has her sword out and is standing just out of weapon reach of the big man. She is standing lightly on the balls of her feet ready to move at moments notice into any type of action.
Forte responds: "Put your sword away...unless you mean to kill my former employer. You have nothing to fear from me. Where is the nearest place to get help for your hurt friends? And perhaps a pile of dead guards will soften your friend's landing," Forte says with a twinkle in his eye, as he looks at the warrior still caught in the tree.
Xania smiles at Forte. "I don't know that there is a best place. We shall have to look for it. I am Xania Sqeulaiche," she adds.
Rhune smiles at his words and sheaths her sword, "Thank you," she replies. turning to face both of them. "I am Rhune Morthaine, this is Xania, Jacobus. Ullar is the one in the tree. Asif and Marika are our two hurt companions and this is Taras." Then pointing to Sam's body, "That was Sam. He was a very good, if erratic friend," she says sadly
"I am Forte," the tall bodyguard responds. "I appear to have gotten involved with some unsavory folks."
"It happens," says Xania, trying to hold back a slight smirk.
Rhune looks around, "If you mean her, then yes I would say so. If you mean us, then I would say no. We are not unsavory sort. Just rather determined," she chuckles lightly.
"Determined to do what?" queries the former bodyguard. "I mean, now that you've got the horses back, there's no need to be so determined." Forte pauses a few seconds. "Is there?"
"No I suppose not. But we can talk about other things later. Right now I just want to have a bath, get some food, get some new clothes and sleep for a week," she says with a weary smile.
The shorter and bulkier of the men interjects, "And I am called Leslie, Miss Rhune, Leslie LeCroix." He looks Rhune over, smiling, and adds, "That's a fetching outfit, Rhune. You wear it well..." his eyes twinkle merrily, and he seems to have come to terms with the events that have transpired, and is ready to get on with life.
She blushes at his words, "Thank you." She replies softly as she pulls the cloak around her tighter. She is about 4'2" with curly silver hair and deep, purple eyes. She is slight but looks very wiry. The outfit she is wearing, almost looks to be a leather tunic, linen pants and a linen tunic. It is now torn in several places revealing a great deal of her slight charms. She is also without a doubt elven. Her accent is also French.
Jacobus grins at the compliment that is passed to Rhune, "Be careful my friend, these ladies seem to steal the hearts of men, and rarely do they return them." Jacobus' eyes move to Xania and he laughs.
"You wound me," Xania says to Jacobus, "I have never stolen them, they were always given freely and I merely borrowed them for a time."
Xania nods to Leslie too, marking his name in her memory. "Rhune, would you like to borrow my cloak?" she asks.
She looks over at Xania, "Thank you, but Asif already gave me his to wear. Said he would be honored if I did," she says lightly fingering the material of the cloak.
"Just making sure," Xania smiles back.