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Jesse is still wading through the battle and another two Dogheads die at his blades. Rethe and Flea are still attacking but have less luck this time. There is absolute mayhem going on, the spectral hounds are still leaping to attack the Dogheads, but the dogheads are beginning to realise that the danger comes from the people rather than the hounds themselves. A few of the dogheads start to bring the combat to you and dogheads start swinging their weapons almost at random. Generally you manage to duck and dodge the swings but both Rolf and Flea take blows to their armour - startling them somewhat, if not actually causing any damage. The Dogheads are falling back, particularly before Callum and Jesse's assults, and are starting to become more prepared and defensive in their approach to the battle. Edgar sitting in his tree, is amazed at the ferocity of the battle, the changes in Callum and the near manic light glinting in the eyes of the rest of the party members .... ------------ OOC - Dogheads are now AC 8 as they are more aware of what is happening ... |
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Jesse continues to attack, and yet another dooghead dies on his swords, although this time a slash from the longsword leaves the Doghead open for a dis-embowelling with the short sword. Rethe's Scimitar flashes again, and the dog head that he was battling sinks slowly to the ground, as Rethe advances further into the Melee.... Flea stabs with her dirk again, but sticking the doghead's legs is getting more difficult now they are aware .... |
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Elsbeth dodges the doghead's attack, nimbly dancing out of the way. With a wild cry she slashes with her scimitar, a a crazed expression on her face as she strikes (AC 7, 7 points damage, total of 12 done to this doghead). |
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Rolf spins through the motion of his last, deadly swing at the doghead. But before he can recover to seek another victim, he feels the crushing blow of a doghead club. Luckily, his armor is enough to divert the blow, but it still hurt. The pain vies with the call of the hunt and far a brief moment of clarity, Rolf wonders what's gotten into them all. The dashing into the swamp, the lashing out at dogheads without thought of reason or tactic, but mere bestial need to fall upon the prey and slay it. Callum seems nearly a beast himself, looking horrible in the dimness, his flashing blade laying waste all about. And Elsbeth seems not far behind, her wild-eyed glee as her blooded blade seeks yet more to quench it's thirst. And himself, what has come over him? And yet, the song of the hunt plays in his veins still and with a sweeping of crimson tide, it washes away the moment of clarity like so much sand in the wake of the tides. Again, his lips tug into a feral glee and a shout of ecstasy tears itself from his throat. Laying eyes on the miscreant that dared strike him, Rolf gives himself to the joy of the hunt again, letting his blade sing in his hands, but the doghead manages to dodge it at the last moment. OOC: Rolled a 5, swing and a miss |
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Attack! |
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Smilo dances from foot to foot, feinting with the gnoll. Lunges and stabs. OOC: 3 more points to the same gnoll. |
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High in the branches, Edgar hunches lower still, feathered head bowed down, beak tightly shut, unmoving ... silent witness to the primeval ferocity of the battle below. |
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Callum turns from the fallen doghead leader and swings his sword round in a huge arc towards the nearest doghead, which nimbly steps back out of the swords reach. Infuriated by his miss, Callum howls and leaps forward towards the creature. |
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Mandrakes first two swings were just short of the mark, but his third attempt swung wildly as the lust for blood coursed through him. All the time though, there was a small voice, like a child crying out in a storm, too far away to be heard and so ignored. |
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