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Hammer Time; [p] Brahms; Sanctus
Topic Started: Thu Jan 22, 2015 9:38 pm (2,024 Views)
Rithyk
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I wonder if spiders are any good to eat? Rithyk prodded his most recent kill - a spider the size of a large dog - and watched it fall over. He hadn't intended to kill the spider. He hadn't had any desire really to tangle with them at all really, but one of them had popped out of the ground at him and...

Well...

Now he was tired. And hungry. And a bit scratched up - he really had to buy a helmet from somewhere. He didn't like this business with his head being exposed. His armor - fantastic stuff, despite the fact he was a shiny target when he sun hit him - was taking care of the scratches, though he had to pick out the tiny hairs the spider had shot at him on his own. He was lucky he hadn't taken one in the eye.

With a last look back at the spider, he ventured deeper into the forest. The trees were dark, almost menacing, and were hung thickly with cobwebs. The air still smelled of the nearby swamp - fetid and sulfurous. The ground squished unpleasantly underfoot. Rithyk drew his sword again and tightened his shield, just in case. The road under him was wide enough for a rider and a horse, but not much else.

Rithyk had been attempting to skirt the swamps when he'd found his way into this place. Being a firm believer in the leading hand of the divine and the halfling suspicion that it was unlucky to retrace your steps, he'd decided to keep going forward. He was rather curious as to where he was though.

With a predictability Rithyk had come to rely on, he eventually passed a sign that had been nailed to a tree. Somebody with a sick sense of humor and had written:

WELCOME TO SPIDERHAUNT WOODS
I'd turn back if I were you


"Where were you a mile ago?" he demanded of the sign, not really expecting an answer.
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Sanctus Ignis
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Jasper paced through the fetid, stinking swamp and let out a snort. Azrael felt his disgust, and was glad that he did not have to trudge through the mire on foot. Though to be fair, being as high up as he was wasn't that much better - he had been slapped in the face by so much damp, rotting foliage he had acquired a moldy green tint to his face. Azrael spat his displeasure, then consulted the map his agent had drawn him. Quite clearly it was absolute fantasy. The man that had drawn it had never been to the woods before, that much was certain. He balled it up and it too arced out into the swap. He kicked Jasper on and together they moved through the swamp.

An hour later the ground began to get firmer. The going was easier and the air became cleaner, more healthy. Azrael breathed a sigh of relief, he was more that done with wandering around the stinking cesspool. The trees here were thickly hung with cobwebs, but that was far more preferable to the dank, rotting leaves. The creature he had come here to hunt was not present, no sign, no track or trace of him anywhere. It didn't matter, Azrael didn't care about the Xenos scum any more. The creature would live to fight another day, just so long as the Inquisitor got to have a hot bath to wash away the filth. Jasper let out another dissatisfied snort.
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Brahms
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It was time to hunt. Brahms had left the hauntwood marsh to visit his surrounding area. Well, his timing could not be even more perfect if he wanted to. Beside the smell of rotting corpses in spiderwebs, there was one animal smell and two humanoids in clad in metal. The werepyre had an extraordinary scent. One had to give him that. Shapeshifting into a wolf to lead his pack. All of them were faster and larger then most wolves, but of course, the raging wolf was something all together. His wolf form was as big as a worg, his red eyes had the malice and the wits of one. They all started to run inbetween the trees and cobwebs. Soon they'd reach their preys. It should taste better then arachnoid's blood.
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Rithyk
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Rithyk had gone about another quarter mile or so before spotting the man on the horse. He was an older fellow, with a bushy beard and liberally smeared in...something. Rithyk was going to assume it was camouflage. It has to be camouflage. I mean, why else would you have the stuff all over you?

Now the only question was: was he friend or foe?

Ah, when I have ever worried about that? He stuck his sword into the ground and waved, giving a sharp whistle. "Ho, rider!" He was short, so he was hard to see, despite being shiny from the waist up.

Belatedly, it occurred to Rithyk, if it was camouflage, it wasn't about to make any friends.

Oh, if it was camouflage, it sucks and somebody should call him out on it.
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