Log: Ambush at Felwood
| Date | Title | People | Location |
| May 9, 2015 | Log: Ambush at Felwood | Kyson, Symar and Korra | Felwood |
It's not yet midday but you'd never know it out here in the felwood. With the perma-storm brewing overhead and the dense, blackened trees growing her and there, the whole place is cast in a thin veil of shadow. it's the -perfect- place to gather components, materials and such, right? Well, that's apparently what Kyson is up to today. Out with his owl, staff, and a sturdy hemp bag, he's come to help refresh Master Cesran's supplies.
A warm day, but cool in the shade-- yet it is a shade with a lingering undercurrent of malice, as a sleeping dragon brooding on dark dreams. From atop her steed, Korra keeps a quiet, restless watch on the forest; it would be unpleasant in the extreme for her charge to be stolen away by demonic greenery.
Not to mention the unfortunate implications for said charge in question.
"Not that I question the task," she says gently, eyes surveying the area. "But is this the only place to gather these herbs? They're grown in trays in the city, aren't they?"
The Fell Woods are certainly permeated with lingering malice and malaise. It is an unnatural stain of corruption that cannot yet be removed. Strange creatures hunt the woods... but they are also hunted, themselves. A large, white form pads through the dark foliage, muzzle lifted as her nose scents the air for prey.
"Presumably these are more potent, and his master surely wants the best he can get." Symar says. "So this is what your master has you do then, when you're not reading books?" It enquires of Kyson. Having met the young mage on his way into the woods, the golem asked to accompany the pair, mainly out of curiousity. It seems undisturbed by the demonic presence, but then, who can tell with a golem?
You say, "Spill -ONE- bottle of ink," Kyson explains, his voice a bit louder and more harsh than he had originally intended. The sarcastic smile still crosses his face as he glances over to Korra. "You're very kind for coming out to watch my...*umph* back." The young apprentice, now on his knees, is slowly digging up a thick, woody root while he was speaking and it doesn't seem to want to let go of its earthy nest. Up in one of the trees, his winged friend, Strig, keeps watch from above but suspiciously remains quiet and still - sleeping? "But yeah, there's *umph*...some theory that materials gathered in the wild are *ummmmph* -THWACK-" and that's when the root finally releases its hold and Kyson whacks himself in the face. "Son of a Troll!" The curse jumps out of his lips and he doesn't seem at all bothered by the others hearing it."
Korra certainly cannot tell! But her eyes were hired to watch over Kyson, not explore the particulars of golemnic emotions; her blade to protect and preserve his skin. And her saddlebags as additional cargo space, though she would never admit it. The intelligent conversation is simply icing upon the cake.
"There are legends that the woods are more dangerous, deeper in," she asides, hand resting on the pommel of her curved blade.
Stifled snerk of laughter. She politely averts her eyes from the situation-- Man vs Plant (2-1). "Enjoy the bright side, Ser Wizard. You are only digging roots for your troubles. My Master would have had me running extra rings around the campsite, chasing his horse."
"Hrm. Well then I suppose, we should be glad your master did not send us further into the woods." The golem says, its golden visage curling into the approximation of a smile when the roots tears loose and Kyson hits himself in the face. "Hmm. I suppose having a master is not necessarily ideal" It mumbles /almost/ inaudibly when Korra describes her master's likely punishment for her.
The sounds of root to face and yelled curse echo through the trees. Ears swivel towards the sound before the rest of the body turns to follow. Slow, stalking steps quicken to a loping bound through the undergrowth towards the source. More humanoids in the woods. Whatever their intentions, the results tend to be unpleasant, as often as not. As she closes, first scent, then sight confirm the sound. The large wolf slows and observe a moment before slowly striding from the undergrowth.
The young wizardling rocks back onto his heels from his kneeled position on the ground and wipes the splutterings of dirt and root bits from his face. "One," he comments and adds the root bit to the hemp sack. Who knows how many he's supposed to collect but he seems more hurt for his pride than any face-whacking. Reaching for his staff he uses it to push himself up to his feet. "I had to put down a crystaline spider a few weeks back - it was going after a small village at the edge of here. It was as clear as glass..." he shakes his head a bit and spits out the last bit of dirt. "Master Cesran -wished- I had taken back more than what I did."
Something pale catches the warrior's eye: smooth stone, coated in mud but still a strange white. "What is--" she begins, then her breath is caught sharply. Stilled breath, cool and calm- controlled. "Magi," she announces to the others in casual voice. She shifts restlessly on her mount, one hand tightening on pommel as eyes narrow. "We have an unexpected guest." Eyeing the mammoth wolf with care, swallowing hard. Easily the size of her own mount. "How close are you to completing your tasks?"
Symar remains silent though it throws back its hood, revealing small crystalline protrusions on top of its genderless, golden skull. "I don't suppose either of you can speak with animals?" It asks quietly. It brings its hands together as if praying, keeping its black eyes on the wolf and taking a few slow steps back, to stand behind the warrior.
The wolf slows to a halt, snout and eyes panning from the mounted one and horse, to the crystalline-decorated one, and finally to the young man in blue with the sack. Then it returns to repeat as she simply watches the group, possibly warily.
The wizardling glances up to the tree where his owl is roosted and seems confused by something. Like a mental image crawling through his head that doesn't make sense is leaving an odd taste in his thoughts. The suddenly serious tone to Korra's voice draws Kyson's attention and he looks to her and then to the ... "Oh," he mutters in realization of what his familiar was trying to warn him about. "I'm not done," he offers but then adds, "...but I'm not wanting to get into a tangle yet either." Gripping the staff in his right hand, he holds it up as though it were a torch and mutters a word of magic to summon forth a ball of blue-white light at its crest. "Shirak." The carved owl-face of the staff is now lost in the bright light of the spell, driving back the veil of shadows cast by the forest around and the storm above. Though mid day, the forest seems drenched in perpetual twilight except for the bubble of light around the wizard, the warrior and the wo...er Robot. "Maybe it doesn't like light..." he mutters hopefully.
Korra keeps careful control of her horse, a chuff of breath clearing its nostrils with a quiet swirl. "Not precisely," she says with deliberate casualness. "Though I have dealt with many over time. Just... smaller." Guiding knees and a 'kik-kik'-- she maneuvers her animal between the magi and the wolf, bulk of warrior and beast between dire fangs and frail flesh-- and metal. "Worth a try," she admits, smiling faintly. "Though I would not advise waving your pretty stick threateningly. Just be calm." Quiet advice, given as she shifts her steed in place. "And make no sudden moves. Wolves are predators, and love to chase whatever flees from them. I can only imagine so much greater a version as this one is even more given to running down prey."
Glancing aside, she adds, "Ser Kyson. By your foot-- where you found the root. Is that runestone, or bone? Collect it, and perhaps it would be best that we be on our way."
"Hrm." Symar mutters. "No harm in a bit of light I suppose." Its eyes flare suddenly and red sparks leap out, crawling across its face in vaguely disturbing patterns. The golem opens its hands and spreads its arms and a shimmering humanoid of light shimmers softly into existence between its arms, stepping back and turning to face the wolf. "But whatever she mentioned" it gestures to Korra "Sounds interesting"
The wolf blinks at the sudden light, and eyes remain narrowed when they reopen. A low, rumbling growl begins, interrupted by a powerful snort. Perhaps too powerful for the glowing spot of staff as the light is snuffed as suddenly as it appeared. The growl resumes, rising in pitch and volume into something discernible. "I do not hunt you, but other creatures will. There is only one worthy chase amongst you, and horsemeat is not worth the effort."
With a nearly un-manly meep, Kyson seems surprised that his light spell was cancelled. As if things couldn't get more interesting, he was then drawn out of the internal question of 'how' the spell was canceled by the sound of a voice. Yup. The Dire Wolf just spoke. "Did anyone else just hear that...?" he asks and then clarifies, "The wolf just spoke right? I didn't imagine that..." His eyes wander around the perimeter of the small clearing - just to make sure that they're not being surrounded by a half-dozen more of the massive predators and he spies the stone that Korra mentioned. From high above his owl seems to have not taken its eyes off of the great beast but doesn't seem to be all that concerned. With stone in hand, the wizardling 'OW!' startles in a -very- unmanly squeek and drops the stone.
Korra stares at the great wolf, uncertain whether to be insulted or simply surprised-- talking wolf! "We were travelling no furhter than the forest's edge," she says after a moment's consternation. Bringing her fist to her breast, she bows at the waist. "Our apologies for disturbing you in your chosen territory. I would have brought--" She cuts herself off, cheeks pinkening. "Well, I am sure we would have asked first." The 'meep' neartly steals her attention from the Dire before her, but she steels her composure, watching cautiously. "Unless there is reason to remain, we will be on our way." She pauses, grimacing. "Thank you for not eating Breeze. I should be distraught if matters became so... heated."
The golem blinks as the light fades and the wolf speaks. "If you say so" it says. It seems at something of a loss. When Kyson drops the stone it blinks. "Is something wrong?" It enquires, walking over. "And when you say 'others'" It says, "What do you-" It pauses and looks at Korra. "Oh. Is that what should be done? You will have to tell me about what to do when one meets talking wolves." Its head tilts slightly. "I am most interested in learning the proper etiquette "
"Whatever you seek, you should find it quickly and leave," The wolf confirms. After a brief pause, her head tilts in thought. "Or you could remain and draw out the unnatural and corrupted that I hunt."
Kyson rubs his hand as best he can while still holding his now dormant staff. There's a red welt on his hand as though he's been stung by something when he reached for the stone. "I don't know - something bit me I think," he offers and then looks down to the ground to see if he could identify whatever it was that didn't want to be grabbed. At the wolf's instruction he glances around the clearing and his sack with only one root. "So you're going to go hunt something...away from here?" he querries and then adds, "Good...yes, go off" he waves his hand dismissively towards the deeper parts of the forest away from where they stand, "...and find that um...unnatural corruption." Either brave or stupid, the apprentice is -not- leaving without filling the bag as he was told to do. "We'll watch over this place and let you know if anything like that shows up."
Korra grits her teeth, out of sight of Kyson. "Likely you will be able to hear of it through the sounds of ringing steel and squealing voices." She very carefully does *not* look at Kyson; she might lose her composure completely. She exhales carefully, reaching down to brush the neck of her mount, fingers curving through the fur. "If you wish to remain in case we do draw something, I would appreciate it. If not, I do not wish to interrupt your hunt." She stares for a few seconds, shivering with another sharp exhale. "...why did no one warn that wolves were so large...!"
It was a -nearly- manly Meep.
Dire Wolf looks to Kyson. "Why would I go elsewhere when your stumbling will draw every humanoid-eating predator within earshot? I will not go far, and wait for my prey to come to me..." The wolf dips her muzzle to Korra, who seems to know more of The Truth than others, before turning to pad back into the undergrowth.
Kyson waits a few moments to let the large wolf to move away before letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Stars and stones," he exclaims and bends over a little to catch his breath. "Thought that was going to be... bad." He looks up to Korra and tries to offer his best, lop-sided smile "Ok, you're hired...for whatever you want. Just keep doing what you do..." With that he reaches down to grab the sack at his feet and then remembers the stone. "Oh...where'd it go?" he asks and spies it near Symar's uh...feet. "There it is - can you grab it?"
� "Well. I'm not sure wolves are usually that large..." The golem muses. "This looks interesting" It gazes at the stone for a few moments before reaching for its sleeve. After a few sharp tugs, the rough stitches tear and a piece of cloth comes loose. Symar carefully kneels, and attempts to slip the cloth under the stone and wrap it up in the cloth. "I'm sure this will be of some interest." It says.
Korra exhales softly, glad for padding and armor to hide the silent shaking. "It would also be bad to let my charges be eaten by the locals," she says nonchalantly, squeezing the grip of her weapon silently. Ah yes, much, much drinking tonight.... "Though I will have to ask your Master Cesran if he has a book on animals. The Vast does not have such beasts as that, even the smaller ones."
The stone is partially caked in mud and dirt as though it burried about as deep s the roots of the clawfoot plant that Kyson was digging up. One corner of the stone appears to have a grove or two cut into its surface but it's difficult to see now that it's been partially wrapped in cloth. Kyson, still nursing the 'sting' walks over to another point in the clearing, away from where the wolf was, and looks for more of the telltale bulb which easily identifies the roots he needs. "Go out to the forest, he said..." he starts to comment in a mocking one. "...Get me a sack of Clawfoot...shouldn't take you too long, he said..."
<IMAGE> http://imgur.com/7IDgzVU
"Lovely." Symar says, and begins rooting through the nearby rotting leaves and grass. It also pulls its hood back up again. "I think this might be one..." It says, grasping a plant and pulling. And pulling again, harder. "I can see now that the name is indeed apt." It remarks, and keeps pulling until the plant finally leaps out of the earth. Overbalancing due to its malformed arms, Symar only just manages to catch itself before landing on its bottom.
Korra spares half-an-ear to the explanation from Kyson, tilting her head quizzically. "Shouldn't you have brought a spade then?" she asks, glancing over. "For roots that grip that much at least...." She chews on the idea for a few seconds, finally shaking her head as she watches Symar over extend. "Mmmph. I think I would rather be doing sprint-laps," she murmurs, turning her attentions back to the forest. "Less chance of falling down in that."
Kyson repeats, sarcastically, "Spilled...one...bottle of ink." With that he walks back to continue looking for the bulbs amongst the brush and then calls back. "It will be a...~learning experience~" the apprentice mocks in a sing-song tone of voice. With his hands being generally tied up with gathering the roots, he walks back to where Korra and her horse have positioned themselves and holds his staff out to the air. "Jartham, hold this." Though no one else is present a seemingly invisible force reaches out to grasp the wizard's staff and hold it for him. New trick?
Symar notes the 'trick'. "Nice" It responds, searching for more of the roots. "Now if I could just find a bunch of these all together..." It looks around but doesn't seem to find any such cluster. Spotting a lone plant, it approaches and begins pulling. This time, when the plant comes loose, Symar doesn't fall though some red sparks leap across its face.
"Who---?" Korra turns her gaze back sharply, searching for this 'Jartham'.... finally settling on the staff simply hovering by itself in midair. "Ser Magus," she says warningly. "You should tell me about these things before you go surprising me with them. Please." She glances back at the hovering staff, shivering as she tears her gaze to the outer forest. "I would like to know if there is a ghostly invisible manservant hovering about unexpectedly!" Pattern of collection now-- plant tugged, red sparks, human grunt-- saddlebag. And occasionally a ghostly butler in the midst of a haunted forest. Shiver.
Tricks. They can sometimes get laughs, and this one seems to. From the treeline to the north comes odd sounds of ... snickering? Giggling? That's what they sound closest to.
"I have to maintain that my aura of mystique and allure of arcane might," Kyson calls back while trying to yank out the third root of a clawfoot plant. This time he doesn't smack himself in the face but he does stumble back a few steps. "That's three..." he adds and looks around as though he only caught the half edge of the sound of the 'snickering'. "Hey,' he turns to Korra and levels an accusatory finger, "You try pulling these things out and look good doing it. I -dare- ya..."
The golem pauses upon hearing the laughter and rises to its full height. Once more its palms come together and it scans the treeline. "Well." It murmurs. When Kyson begins his tirade it turns and glances at him. "I believe we have company of some sort." It remarks. "In a haunted, tainted forest." It adds.
The horsewoman twists in her saddle, giving Kyson a wry smile of mirth. "But I was only hired to keep watch over and protect you," she chides over-sweetly. "Besides, I don't seem to be the one needing exercise. Remember-- pull with the hips, not with the back." Dark eyes gleam merrily, but it is a brightness that fades quickly. "Another wolf?" she asks Symar, eyes trailing back to the forest's edge. "I just thought that was Kyson tittering to himself."
The snickering continues and is joined by rustling of dry twigs and half-dead leaves. Some growling joins it, so it could be a wolf. Possibly wolves as it now sounds like there are multiple voices. Several furred forms trot out of the dim and into sight. Three, in fact.
At first glance, they might be taken for wolves, but they are not as large as the previous one, nor are they white. If they are wolves, they look deformed: their heads are shorter, jaws larger, and many portions of their spotted pelts are mangy, shedding, or missing altogether.
<SOUNDTRACK> https://youtu.be/8VGJGXMUhmc
Kyson backs away from the edge of the clearing, closing quickly upon Korra and her mount. "Jatham, staff!" he calls and the invisible presence tosses the carved stick at its master who catches it - sort of. Oh, it's in his hand but it's not like it was the best catch imagined. Slinging the sack of roots to the ground, he turns outward and lights up his staff with the same word of magic he used before, "Shirak!"
Korra grimaces, an instinctive rection. Her horse shies back a step, snorting before she brings it back to control. This time she does not pause at simply gripping the haft of her weapon; metal gleams as iron shifts free, curved edge sharp in the twilight forest gloom and the magelights. "Back!" she warns, twisting upon her mount, dropping her shield into place. "You are not welcome here!"
"Hmm. I do not think these are wolves." Symar remarks as its unfolds its hands and throws back its hood. Its pupils begin glowing more strongly and sparks pour across its face, outlining a strange visage for a brief moment before the sparks sink back into the face. "I should have brought my weapons..." It says, seemingly regretfully. Four lights flare into existence at a murmur of a dissonant word. The lights are bloody red in colour and begin circling Symar slowly as the crystals on its head turn red and black.
The trio of creatures answer the sudden light with a switch from laughter to snarling. Drool drips from slavering jaws as the small pack advances steadily towards the well-lit food. Sure, some of it looks less fleshy, but they can use more iron in their diet.
Korra readies her blade, knees guiding her horse as quick eyes chase from one to another. "Come to the tasty horsewoman," she croons quietly. "Much horseflesh to chew on. Nothing at all stringy like Ser Magi...."
The wizardling is holding his staff across his chest with both hands, as the creatures advance he reaches out with of them and calls upon his magic to conjure two darts of blue-white magic that leap from his fingertips, arc across the distance between him and the 'somethings' before burning into their flesh.
The trio spreads out before they lunge in at the group. Ed snaps at the Kyson that zapped him. Shenzi bites at the golem. Banzai goes for the horsewoman.
One is slashed and her jaws deflected. The other two chomp down on Kyson and Symar and attempt to pull them to the ground for feasting. Luckily, both robed figures stay on their feet.
Symar slams its hands together. They twist into vicious black claws, even as an eagle explodes into existence and starts clawing at the creature that just attacked it.
Breeze's hooves strike divots from the earth, the woman on its back shrieking acry. Full-throated and eager, Korra takes perfect advantage of her height to sweep down a vicious slash on the first of the beasts, leaving a ragged rent in along its torso. "Be valiant!" she cries out, "I'm coming!" Again the rearing hooves; again the flash of steel on the air. This time, the arc of bright steel is matched by the primal (and very final) pounding of steel-shod hooves. The mangy beast is smashed into the earth, dead and buried beneath the horse's greater weight. With a whirl of her steed, Korra moves-- to take the second of the monsters under blade.
Pain flashes through kyson's mind as one of the hyenas clamps down on the back of his thigh, attempting to trip him. Backing up from the attacking beast, Kyson lets fly two more of the slender bolts of arcane magic which flash from his fingertips and sizzle into the creature's flesh. Unfortunately it does not kill it. Injured and angry, Kyson is in rough shape.
Ed is missing a fair chunk of his face, but this just lets more of his teeth show through. Teeth that he sinks into Kyson again, and this time he doesn't let go, pulling Kyson down to the ground. Symar is also bit again by the undamaged, but still mad and hungry Banzai.
Symar hisses and slashes down with both claws. One misses and it instead gouges the ground but the other catches the creature in the side. The eagle claws ineffectually. Then it strikes with its beak and catches a piece of ear.
Seeing her charge fall under the beast's slavering jaws, Korra howl out another fierce cry. Too close for her horse's hooves to prove of use, she arcs her blade in an up-and-down, simple, skull-cleaving cut. And cut it does-- skullcase and brainmatter explodes with a splintering crunch, and a sickening gush of blood and grey matter hooze from behind the sword's slice-- two inches below the eyes, as she wrenches her weapon back. "Symar!" she calls, wheeling her horse about for the next assailant. "Coming!"
The second bite out of the apprentice nearly did him in. Blood loss, a second bite - he was more than 'just rough'. Having a break from harm thanks to Korra's attack, Kyson pulls a small blue vial from his pocket and pops the lid open with the edge of his thumb. Up-ending the container into his mouth he swallows it quickly and feels the rush of healing course through him. The wounds seal but they're far from removed.
Symars claws come crashing down either side of the creature as red sparks rush across its body. It huffs, face contorted into an ugly scowl. The eagle takes the opportunity to open up nasty gashes on the creature's head.
Korra weaves her mount over towards the final cackling beast. Steel gleams as she raises it again; again it descends with a final, heart-stopping chop. This blow splits the beast's head utterly in twain, and Korra shivers with the rush of battle as she slides her weapon back. "Time to head back to the city," she announces. "If your Master needs more of the herbs, I will come free of charge. But *this* foray is ended, now!" Blood still hot, she rakes the forest with her gaze, as though daring another challenger to appear. "I am not dragging a dead carcass back for explanation!"
Symar groans and stumbles back. Its hands shiver and slowly assume their normal appearance again as the eagle vanishes in a puff of smoke. It says a sentence in a nasty, dissonant language. Then the golem pushes itself into a standing position and grabs one of the carcasses, heaving it onto one shoulder. "I think we should. Now, let us get a move on..." Its voice is much more montone now that it's speaking normally.
Kyson digs through his shoulder bag for a cloth of some kind to tear up into a bandage. "Anyone else hurt?" he calls to the others, still on the ground and not yet able to look up and around to the warrior or to the wo...golem. Finally able to bind the wounds on his legs and side, he reaches for his staff and slowly, painfully, starts to push himself up to his feet. Stubborn this one. Once to his feet he takes a few steps and realizes that walking all the way back to town isn't going to be an option.
Korra sparing a last look around, caution warring with an eagerness for combat. "Not I," she answers, glancing to the magus with a grimace. "Though you look torn to pieces." Her movements are quick, sure-- sheathing her sword, she dismounts in a quick, fluid motion. "This forest is too dangerous to go creaking through at your rate," she continues, kneeling down to offer her hands. "You're riding. Let me help."
The golem says "Well... lets get moving." It leaks dark smoke from its leg and midriff. "And I really wonder what that stone is." It adjusts the weight on its back and begins heading back out of the dark forest. It flexes its fingers a few times and adds "Next time I'm definetly bringing my weapons." It frowns. "What did you say the name of that Artificer golem was Kyson? Stirling? I really will need to talk to him about getting myself fixed..."
A repeat of motion in the sparse foliage precedes the large white wolf returning to the clearing. The sounds and scents of combat, blood, and death are an easy draw.
Kyson lets out a mostly-manly yelp of pain as he tries to get up into the saddle of Korra's horse. Oh yeah - that's a pain that's going to linger; the bite sunk into his left calf and though it's not gushing blood at the moment, the potion's effects aren't -that- good. "Jatham...the bag," he calls and the not-so-visible force reaches down to pick up the hemp bag of roots and carries it over to the wizard who's slumped over the saddle and holding onto the horn for dear life. Accepting the bag he slides the strap over the horn and lets Korra figure out the rest.
Korra is (apparently) well-versed in carrying wounded men (manly or otherwise) upon her horse. "As the Immortal Master Sun did say..." She pauses, glaring at the bloody rag on Kyson's leg, frowning heavily. "...Be prepared." She shakes her head, eyes curving to the White Wolf. Pausing, breath hot. Then, she shrugs, climbing up onto Breeze's saddle. "We found some of your beasts," she explains. "Or they found us. We have you to thank for so small a number, yes?"
Dire Wolf licks remnants of blood from her muzzle. "I caught most of the corrupted pack. Some fled. Some of those made it here." As is obvious.
Kyson holds onto his staff while slumped forward on the horse. He's not really strong enough to have a lengthy conversation but glances over to the wolf and nods or slumps further. The owl, watching up from its perch in the trees high above, jumps into the air and flies back to towards the city - perhaps to alert his master or others.
Symar examines the wolf briefly before moving onwards, corpse still resting on its back. "Well." it mutters "I'm glad there weren't any more or I don't think I or the apprentice would be in dire straits indeed." Its joints creak audibly as it moves onward.
Korra glances towards Symar, grimacing anew. Hoping he can keep pace, at least until beyond the Felwood itself; then, to switch places with the Constructed. "I would not have fulfilled my charge without you," she adds, turning back to the giant wolf. "I owe you a debt. Though I cannot repay it now, I do not forget what I owe." She saddles up behind Kyson, raising her hand in salute. "Fortune in your hunting, until we meet again."
Dire Wolf dips her muzzle to the group who survived their venture into the Felwood. Not entirely intact, but they survived.