strangetrip | Inn-world Combat: The Dread Reign

At the crest of the mountain, Coc'zac sat atop Nazu's head looking through a glass that Hotor held to his eye. Vokva sat beside them, little more than a pile of bones atop a pile of rocks, and Hafur paced behind them, holding the troops in check. They milled in the pre-dawn gloom, skeletons, wights, zombies, wraiths, and all manner of undead creatures. Periodically, Nazu swept the space behind them with their tail bowling over anyone who'd gotten too close.

The first pinpoint of light had Coc'zac's teeth chattering with excitement in his disembodied head. Today was the day he'd been planning for. Soon, soon the Inn and its occupants would be his. Nazu unleashed a heavy sigh tinged with poison and necrosis. Fortunately the troops were all dead already, and Coc'zac didn't have anything in the way of arms to hit them with.

It fell to Hafur to gesture the troops forward as punctuation to Coc'zac's 'rousing' speech, and together they crept through the portal, avoiding its fizzing and popping edges demarcated in what would be neon blue, if they could still see in color. They couldn't properly hear either, but they were aware of the noise and the danger it marked.

Once they were all through, the advance scouts, four bands of skeleton archers swept quietly as they could through the shadows to take up position around the main buildings, prepared to pick off anyone who exited--for example for a pre-sun jog. And once they'd settled into wary, silent waiting, occasionally interrupted by the pop of a joint or the clatter of toe bones on stone, the next wave rolled in finding shadows to hide in until the residents emerged with the wights taking point.The bone naga and three flameskulls slipped through the lobby doors and stealthed toward the offices, assuming to find the command center there.

It wasn't long before the invaders caught the notice of the residents, and then shouts began to echo through the grey light and journals filled with messages and reminders of siege plans. Several strongly worded messages urged the kids and those without weapons or fighting skills to head for the Temple where the Hallow spell would protect them from unholy undead things.

And so the battle for the Madonna Inn began...

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He sounded neutral enough. His face, however, looked a bit stunned. Illyana had just long enough to note that fact before two more undead engaged them, either of them swinging a spiked club or thrusting their own ancient, brittle sword.

"Hn," she huffed in answer, slashing the elbow joint of the skeleton holding the club. The club fell to the ground, bony hand jerking around its grasp of the weapon as it tried fruitlessly to raise it again. More irritating was the remainder of the skeleton, gnashing its teeth and empty hand for her face. Those were met with a steel-clad fist as she twisted and snapped a jab with her armored arm. The other skeleton holding the rusted sword swung wildly for Hathaway.

"Have you not found a weapon yet?" He certainly didn't carry himself as if he intended to fight these foes with exceptional unarmed prowess.

He ducked the wild swing and parried not too badly with the bones he held.

There was a joke there about being armed with... arms but he didn't have time to make it so he just shot her an arched brow as he dropped to avoid another swing of the sword and grabbed for the club.

When he stood back up he took a fairly wild swing of his own, as though with a cricket bat and appreciated the crunch it made.

"What in God's name are these things?"

"Undead," she replied to the question with what seemed to her to be an obvious answer, sweeping a few sharp bone shards from her long hair. "What a given god's name has to do with them is debatable. But it would appear to be a coordinated attack led by a handful of commanders."

The obvious answer was not exactly what he'd been looking for, but it was an answer to his question.

"I was taking first aid supplies to the temple," he gestured to the pack he was wearing as well as a carry all he'd dropped when h'd been attacked. "In case people can't get back to the clinic."

"That almost sounds like a good idea. Except for going alone and unarmed while undead are attacking us." The spirit of the gesture had perhaps been noble. But they hardly needed another corpse just now, noble or otherwise.

Illyana bent and picked up the fallen bag, offering it back to him.

“The people with weapons were otherwise occupied,” and a good thing too by the looks of things. He took the bag and swung it over a shoulder. “And the remaining weaponry seemed like it might require training I don’t have. Seemed safer to leave my hands free in that instance.”

"'Safer' would have been waiting for an opportune moment. Such as when one of the people with weapons and teleporting capabilities is tired of conversing with you when she could be getting you directly to the Temple." She arched her eyebrows at him. "If you're ready."

Edited 2018-09-17 16:32 (UTC)

"Is anyone ever really ready to be teleported?" His brow arched back at hers and he sort of shuffled his feet in preparation.

"At least I'm not drunk this time."

"I am. In general." One of her glowing disks flared wide and bright beneath their feet, glowing as it rent time and space around them.

In the next moment, they were standing just beyond the temple's front entrance, in the entryway. The doors had been propped open to receive any residents seeking sanctuary, which appeared to be unaccountably stupid on first glance. One would imagine that any undead could charge in as easily as any living individual. But a small pack of undead, upon sensing these two warm-bodied arrivals, flung themselves towards them in a frenzy - and were forced back by a holy barrier set resolutely in place, shining warm and golden in resistance to their unliving violence.

"Prepared," Illyana added conversationally, after a glance to assure herself the undead weren't a concern. "Not drunk."

Edited 2018-09-21 20:16 (UTC)

He was absolutely never going to get used to teleportation, or whatever she might call that.

But it did make travel faster.

"Handy," Hathaway murmured as their would be attackers were forced into retreat and then arched a sardonic brow at Yana. "You too. I'm not saying I wouldn't have extricated myself and gotten here eventually without help, but it is appreciated."

Also, it's entirely possible he wouldn't have extricated himself etc.

"Mn-hmm," her hum sounded entirely unconvinced, though she did look privately amused. Hathaway had unexpectedly begun to grow on her. His humor was dry, his manner was deliberate and he wasn't an idiot, taking his chances with hordes of undead on the loose notwithstanding. But under the circumstances, she may well have done the same.

"Try not to get eaten while I'm gone," was her advice, already calling herself another portal.

She was growing on him too, probably for the best as he assumed Kitty would just make them like each other my sheer will if they didn't do it on their own.

"Well now you're just sucking the fun out of it," of course now that he was here he wasn't going anywhere unless someone just outside the protective spell needed help.

He wasn't stupid.

"'Fun' isn't my area of expertise," she agreed as the glowing portal expanded midair to such a size that she could walk directly through it. Illyana tipped her head, fingers around her Soulsword shifting as it pulsed brighter with a sympathetic flex of magical energy that was reflected in her eyes. "Or perhaps my idea of fun is different than yours," she flashed him a cutting smile.

Then she was gone, the portal that received her dilating to a pinprick in space and time before winking out altogether.

"No doubt it's quite different," he muttered to himself once she was gone. And then he found the nearest injured person and moved to help.

Inn-world Combat: The Dread Reign

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