Wrath of the Red Talon

[NightWind]

((LOL at your new title, by the way. I thought it said "Hobgoblin" at first. XD))

"The village is done for anyway." Strynn said bleakly as he caught a swing on his shield. He had seen villages raided, he had been the raider, and he knew the signs. "The guard has been overrun, and if any of the citizens aren't dead it's because they ran away. Listen- hardly any screams now." Still, the man felt it was his responsibility to see this fight through. "If we find a good spot we won't have to worry about our backs." The decision was suddenly made for them when a flaming arrow streaked by- apparently the raiders were wrapping their arrows with oil-soaked cloth and firing through the flames. "Damn it!" Strynn swore, plunging his sword into the heart of the last enemy in the square.
 "We can hold up in the old stone church by the edge of town. It's on a hilltop, there's only one entrance and we can practically hold it against a small army." He decided. "Unless you have a better idea, let's move. As you said, we won't have another shot." He agreed, firing a bolt at random in the direction of the arrows.

[GoblinFae]

(Thanks. It's actually a name from when I first joined. There was a mistake where someone wrote Globin instead of Goblin so I decided that I was the resident Hemoglobin. I love Hobgoblin though too ^.^ Feel free to claim it as yours for me)


"Then what is the point of fighting, you old codger? If there is nothing but our lives to defend then why do you stay? This is pointless! I am not wasting my life on martyrs like you!" Tiraris declared, pulling away from the man to try and forge her own path. The problem though was that there was only the path to the west and from there the stone church he had mentioned. There was nowhere else for her to safely run and even then her option was not a positive one.

'Men and their superior attitudes! Now is not the time Tiraris. Put him in his place later. Save your skin now!' The poison was spreading further and she knew it. Her breathing felt much more ragged and cold than it should have. This amount of physical activity was but a warmup in comparison to what the assassin was accustomed to. To be so out of breath so quickly was unheard of. She needed to get to that church and then assess the damage.

"You coming or not?" she finally growled as she took off at a job for the west gate and hopefully a shot at safety.

[NightWind]

((lol nah, there can be only one Hobgoblin, thanks anyway. You are now "the Hobgoblin" in my eyes though :mrgreen: ))

"Nobody asked you to stay," Strynn grunted, deflecting an arrow with his shield. "Though I am grateful that you have." He had positioned himself between Tiraris and the direction of the flaming projectiles, waiting with the patience only age can bring as he watched her work out for herself that there was no other way to go, at the present. "Take the lead, I'll cover our asses." He said with a small smile as she ran towards the west. The man backtracked in her direction, keeping his shield up as he stooped to pick up the last two bottles and moving his shield to intercept the shot that occasionally came too close.
  He drew back and smashed one of the bottles on the ground, lobbing another at the far wall after he sloshed some of the liquid on the one behind him. "This oughtta slow them down." He muttered, picking up his torch. Suddenly Strynn perked up and raised his shield too late, as an arrow lodged itself in his shoulder. "Fuck!" He hissed, groaning in pain as he quickly snatched the burning shaft from his body and slapped out the flame. At least the wound had cauterized itself, but that didn't change the fact that it hurt like hell. He threw down the torch and as the flames roared up, he turned and ran in the same direction as the fighting woman.
"You don't look so well." He noted as he caught up. It didn't look to be from blood loss, though she had lost a good amount it didn't seem that she should be so worn. He gritted his teeth at his injured shoulder as he drew back the arm of his crossbow, his sword being sheathed and his shield on his back. "What's the matter?"

[GoblinFae]

(YAY I love new nicknames ^.^)

Tiraris did not speak until they both were within the confines of the stone establishment and the heavy metal door was firmly bolted shut. For a brief moment she allowed her weakness to show through as she leaned heavily against a wall, her knees feeling as if they would give at a moment's notice.

"Worry about yourself old man. I saw you take that arrow. You sure it will not be the death of you?" The assassin was wheezing now for each breath, her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands as she fought to stand up straight. 'Poison, should have known. Gods above!'

[NightWind]

((Huzzah for nicknames! Also, sorry I'm late, been real down lately. Buuuuut I'm good now! :D ))

"It was only one arrow." Strynn said breathily, panting as he stooped over with his hands on his knees. 'I'm getting too old for this...' The retired soldier groaned in his mind, wiping sweat form his brow. He looked sidelong at Tiraris, seeming to struggle just to stand up with her breath coming even harder than while running. He had noticed her hand looked to be completely healed and wagered she had control of magic, or some herb or salve. Not that it seemed to be of much use to her at the moment. 'Lizards, snakes, frogs... All of which can be poisonous.' He concluded, mentally chagrined at not realizing this earlier. 'I really am getting old.'
   "And it wasn't poisoned. Which I'm wagering whatever got hold of your arm, was. Unless you can work whatever magic fixed up your hand, you look to be in need of an anti-venom." Strynn blew a small sigh as he straightened, massaging his shoulder. "There should be some here in the church. Gods willing." He added with a small chuckle.

[GoblinFae]

"I am...fine! Quit fu....fuss....fuzzing o'er...me" she growled out. The words were slow in coming forth as if her tongue had become a thick lead bar. In truth she was far from fine; her head spun like a child's top upon the floor. Around and around it went making her feel sick as a heavy numbness sunk deeper into her very bones.

With a weak grunt she collapsed to the floor against her will, her back sliding down the door as she went. For a moment she just sat there flummoxed that she was not in control of her own body. "Poishun," Tiraris slurred as her vision began to sport black dots. "Hardly. Jush a bite! Nutin' mo'e. Go a'ay."

[NightWind]

"Yep. Poison." Strynn muttered half to himself, running a hand through his hair. "I'll wager you didn't make it this far to die on me though." He continued, quickly rummaging through the church's emergency supplies. Many public buildings had them due to the area's population of poisonous creatures and plants. "Here it is... Empty." He grunted, tossing the stone flask aside exasperatedly. There was, however, an herbal mixture used to slow the effect of poisons until a proper anti-venom could be acquired. "Drink this." He instructed, mixing the powder with fresh water in a small stone cup. "It'll taste like Hell and go down like swamp water but it should hold you over until we can find a proper anti-venom." He glanced over at the assassin- from the way she kept blinking and refocusing her eyes, he guessed her vision was starting to go. "None of your hard-headed stubbornness. I'll not bury a stranger." He teased, raising the cup up to her lips.

[GoblinFae]

Despite the growing numbness and uncoordinated movements of her body, Tiraris still managed to shoot a nasty glare to where she assumed her unfortunate companion was standing. With the poison moving through her, the assassin's natural defenses to hide her suffering were quickly beginning to show.

Jerkily, she raised a hand to try and knock the cup away from herself. Her fingers grazed the cold stone surface but she no longer could determine her success as her vision left her fiery orbs. Tiraris breathed heavily, the effort alone having exhausted her.

"I will not...let you," she paused to catch her breath, each inhalation feeling as if a stone had lodged itself in her throat and closed off her airways, "poison me. Keep away!" The assassin growled out her disgust even as she forced her body into motion against its will. She was dying, but she would be damned if she was going to show weakness in front of this stranger who for all she knew could have also been the enemy.

[NightWind]

"What did I tell you about being stubborn?" The old soldier steadied his grip on the cup, her hand was shaking it but didn't have enough power to knock it from his hand or really push it far. "If you don't drink this, you're going to die." Strynn said, pausing for a moment as inspiration struck. This woman was proud, to a fault. He could use this to his advantage. "In front of a complete stranger. I was just beginning to think you were a tough one, too." He said with a shrug. "Should have known you were delicate as a tender little flower. It only goes to show you the battlefield is no place for a woman." He knew this to be not exactly true, as he had known a woman in his old mercenary band that could outfight almost any man she had ever known, but hopefully it would hit Tiraris' nerve. "To die of poison. It's almost embarrassing, really."

[GoblinFae]

Unable to control her emotions in her weakened state, Tiraris had no choice but to let her magic come to the surface. Blood-red eyes glared demonically towards the man from around heavily dilated pupils. The air around them crackled like harvest fields during a drought.

"I would not have said that...if I were you," she told him in clipped tones. She could feel the fire raging within her frail shell of a body. The heat seemed to be incinerating her from the inside out as it burned away the numb sensations that had begun to settle in. Shakily Tiraris regained some of her strength and stood once more under her own power.

Tentatively, the assassin tested the strength in her injured hand and found it stiff and sore but for now, usable. The wild magic within would only keep her functioning for so long. The poison was being kept at bay for now but it was not gone. As long as Tiraris' emotions ran high, the more dangerous her situation would become. Without the telltale symptoms there was no telling how far the poison was progressing.

"You were saying?"

[NightWind]

"Well, you probably-" suddenly he noticed the energy in the air, the heat rolling off the woman, her glowing red eyes. Startled, he fell back from his heels and sat down hard, the cup dropping to the ground and spilling its contents. Strynn stared open-mouthed somewhere between awe and unease at the change in Tiraris. "The old blood runs thick after all..." He muttered to himself. His head tilted back as he followed her movement. Granted, it was unsteadily and her legs shook, but she was standing again. 'Not exactly what I had in mind, but only a fool questions results.'

"Did I say a flower? I meant more like a deadman's daisy. A tough desert flower that appears dead during the day but stands tall and blossoms in the night. She's a hardy plant, full of surprises." He shook his head, standing and eying her warily. "So how do you feel? Will you make it through the night?"

[GoblinFae]

"I know what bloodwort is fool. I have been to the desert and survived its climate and its people. There is no need to lecture me on silly plants, or worse compare me to them," she sneered, wincing slightly as she moved her head too quickly to the side.

'Must you always be so stubborn? He was going to poison me. He was trying to help you. Hush. I told you so. He did a fine job of trapping us here. You followed. I told you to hush. You are arguing in your own mind; effectively you just told yourself to hush.'

Trying to shake off the dizziness, Tiraris began to wobble slightly about the room in hopes of finding something to distract herself with. She did not like feeling trapped and locked in here. The idea of being caged had always disturbed her even before her assassin days.

"Why so concerned, old man? You are the more likely candidate for dying anytime soon. Stop staring at me. I am not some fish you can try and price at a market. If anything you should be thinking of ways to defend this rotten pile of rocks or to escape it alive."

[NightWind]

Strynn chuckled wryly at her once again acid tone. "Well, your sunny disposition is back. I take it this means you're not going to keel over on me." The old soldier relaxed slightly; if she was going to go berserk like old Bearskin used to she more than likely would have done it by now. He would not let his guard down completely, though. Watching the woman walk about, her words made Strynn think of his own injury. 'This is going to hurt when the drink wears off...' He thought, laying a hand to his shoulder. The other wounds were minor and would heal easily, but that shoulder was beginning to stiffen. "I'll be fine. Taken worse blows in my old days."
   "As for defence, we should be fairly safe. This was not an organized troop, likely they were brigands or untrained mercenaries out for their blooding." Pausing a moment to think, he ran a hand over his salt-and-peppered hair, roughing it up as he mentally drew out defence plans. "Likely if they can't loot the church, they'll try to torch it. This building won't burn so we're safe. As for the looters, it's likely only a small group will come, the others will pillage elsewhere." The thought of these damnable thieves and murderers pillaging his village made Strynn scowl, but there was nothing he could do about it for now. "I need a drink..." He muttered, poking about the building in search of sacramental wine.

[GoblinFae]

Tiraris snorted and shook her head while muttering under her breath about how he was younger then too. "You call yourself a man of the people, their defender. Why is then that in their time of need you cower here? You allow the people to die and the village to be ransacked because of your fear, your self-preservation. You are as bad as any other man. You are weak. Maybe you will not die from that wound, but your craven running will be your fall. How can you expect to show your face when you return? That is of course, if there is anyone to return to."

[NightWind]

((Sorry I'm late- busy week. Real busy week...))

"There won't be." Strynn said bleakly. "I've seen this before... I've done this before," he murmured distantly. His eyes tightened at the memory, and he shuddered, wrenching the cork from the wine flask and draining a third of the bottle. If there was anyone left after this, they were hiding in the woods and chances were they'd be too frightened to return for two fortnight, at least. 'Maybe she's right... It's my duty to fight to my dying breath for these people's freedom.'
   "Dying here in an impossible fight serves no purpose." He said aloud, half to himself and half to Tiraris. "I am not afraid to give my life fighting for the people, but only a fool seeks his death unnecessarily." He paused a moment as he hefted the end of a stone bench, considering blocking the windows. 'Only tells them there's someone in here,' he thought, instead plopping down and quaffing another mouthful of the drink. "My life would be better served seeking those responsible and bringing them to justice. That is my duty now." He decided. A cold comfort was better than none, he supposed. "As of now, though, survival is top priority. Any ideas as far as that, or are you too busy filing your tongue?"

[GoblinFae]

(No need to apologize ever for having a life and being busy ^.^)

She disgustedly watched him shuffle about and make excuses for his choices. Tiraris had no patience or respect for men like him, men that proclaimed to know all and what was best, spent men who were much talk and drink with no actual strength in their swordarm anymore.

Fueled by his talk of duty and purpose she quickly strode over to him and snatched the bottle away from him before throwing it harshly at the wall above his head. "Your duty if you can even call it that is to your people! How dare you abandon them and leave them for dead. Vengeance serves no purpose, your purpose is to the living. Let the dead lie, there is nothing that can be done for them."

Her fists balled up tight, ready to take a swing at him that she forcefully was restraining herself from doing. "I hate men like you! You are a craven soldier. Dishonorable and unworthy of your supposed station and title of protector. If that is really your attitude then walk out of here and save me the trouble of having to fight as many of them to escape. At least your death would be good for something," she spat down at him.

[NightWind]

"Oy! That's going to- I was-" He sputtered indignantly before wincing as the bottle sailed over his head, crashing to the wall behind him. "You just wasted all that booze!" He protested loudly, cut off by her tirade. His eyes narrowed as he listened to her rant before he surged to his feet, standing face-to-face with the black-clad assassin.
   "Not 'vengeance'. Justice," Strynn hissed. "Vengeance is pointless, self-centered and hate-fueled foolishness that only continues the cycle of needless killing. A life for a life is no fair trade at all. I will bring justice to these bastards not because they wronged me personally, but because they destroyed the peace. They are a threat. They must be dealt with for the safety of all.
   "As for the 'living', let me tell you something, my lady," he continued with sarcasm dripping from his tone, "If there are any living it's because they have already fled, or because they were raped and left for dead in the streets, and that's if someone didn't stick a spear in them just to watch them bleed. It is not 'craven' to know when to fight and when to withdraw and plan a counter-strike. Should my death have given the people a chance I would have gladly given my life. Losing it after it is apparent that we have been overrun is foolish and has no meaning besides maybe your so-called 'honor' or the empty quest for glory."

[GoblinFae]

"Who are you to judge?" she hissed quietly, her voice echoing some in the cold stone structure they had chosen as refuge. Her eyes were turning colder, her head lowering in anger causing shadows to make the red orbs appear black. "It is craven to play judge and jury of the lives you claim to protect. Who are you to decide when it is hopeless? When to leave the rest to die and suffer? Although I guess I should be thanking you," she spat, "because man like you are the only reason I even have a job. You, sir are pathetic!"

Her breath came evenly through her flaring nostrils. Every muscle in her body was tensed for attack. Tiraris wanted nothing more than rip the life from the man's body with her bare hands. He was already close to provoking her further and she would not be opposed to the fight. There was no respect in her for him. In fact, she was sure she would enjoy this act of primal tussling. It was a rarity for her to desire such things. She did not kill meaninglessly or for the joy of it. But, then again not everyone incited such a rage and hatred in her as this man did.

"At least am not afraid of death like you are old man. But you see, people like you, old dogs like you that continue to serve past their time always end up the same. They die alone and forgotten, cowards in cold places as they let jaded views drive them away from the heat of battle that now scorches their very bones. I hope you like the silence you hear in here. It will be your only companion in the end, mark me words fool."

[NightWind]

"I know it's hopeless because I've razed villages before!" Strynn shouted, finally losing his temper with the greenhorn. "I have marched, and fought, and murdered for money and fame and slaughtered every single man, woman and child that did not flee for their very lives! Everyone who is not dead is gone, the others are beyond my help. The only thing, the ONLY possible thing I can do to help them now is make their killers answer to the law! You are the one that's pathetic, little girl, with your high-and-mighty words and your presumptuous facade of understanding."
   The old man narrowed his eyes as he sighed, gritting his teeth in aggravation. Damn the young blood! It was like talking to a wall, no matter what he said or how he reasoned with her Tiraris would not seem to understand. "I have told you time and again I do not fear death, only a foolish end for a pointless cause in the heat of passion. And you can not possibly know anything of 'serving past one's time', but maybe you'll have some idea when you dry out behind the ears!"
   Strynn was furious, his alcohol-induced temper flaring at this woman's audacity. To come to his village, tell him how to do his duty! How to protect his people! His drunk was at the point where, with the adrenaline and exercise of combat, he was beginning to feel unpleasant- that wine would have warded off his spiraling come-down. Left alone there would soon only be nausea, dizziness, and the shakiness of withdrawal setting on to remind him of his pleasant drunken haze.

   "And you wasted the booze!"

[GoblinFae]

At first it started as a soft rumble deep within her chest, but soon crescendoed into a full-bodied laugh. Tiraris threw her head back, long crimson hair brushing past her shoulders as the pale column of her throat was exposed. On and on she laughed until there was no more breath left in her body to continue. The sound slowly tapered off into silence.

"Little girl am I? Last I knew little girls did not do the things I do," she commented darkly, with an almost maniacal gleam in her eyes. "Little girls sit at home with their needlepoint and darn socks. They certainly do not go around spilling the blood of their fellow little girls in the manner which I do. But, as you say it is a good thing I have not served past my prime. I would hate to become as crippled and useless as you. A man who is so desperate for drink that he would drink the dregs of the congregation's supposed sacramental wine, certainly too weak and pathetic to be worth the time to fight. Everyone knows the priests keep the good stuff to themselves. They would not dare waste it on poor unfortunate souls such as yourself and your people," she chuckled, mockingly.

The heat flowing within the assassin's veins was taking a new course. The angry was dissipating in the thrill for a fight. Her body practically hummed with the sheer raw power that was raring to escape. Part of her, the more wild nature of every human was beginning to yearn for the dance of sword and shadow. Her blood was singing in her ears, telling her to continue with her goading. Tiraris had on doubt that she could escape this hellhole when the time came, but that did not mean her companion had to join her. His cavalier attitude and superiority complex annoyed her, it only seemed fair to knock him down a notch, or two, or three.

'He has it coming,' she thinks even as her muscles tighten in preparation to spring. If he was going to attack, she would be ready.