Deep in the woods.

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Watching the man move towards Gerran, she rushed through all her thoughts. What could she do, what could possibly distract them. Would she risk using her powers, then the thought crossed her mind. The sirens call, she could use it to distract the men. Did she want to risk getting Gerran caught in it, she had to do something quick.
Having noted where they all stood, she glanced at Gerran for a moment. Smiling, a hum of her voice started to emit. Beginning out soft, the song got louder. It was so beautiful, and elegant. As she continued to use the siren's song, she slid out of the cart. Lightly landing on her feet, her green eyes begun to glow as she started to lure those towards her.
 
Gerran was briefly distracted when Isis started to sing, but he managed to keep his thoughts his own long enough to clasp his hands to his ears and drop from the cart, then move away from the bandits using the ox for cover. As long as he needed to keep his hands on his ears he wasn't in much of a position to fight, so it would be up to Isis for the time being.
 
She sung until they were a good distance away from the cart, the trees were now going to be used for cover. Reaching for her sword, she started to unsheathe it. She stopped the sirens song, watching as they were all still dazed. Having fully unsheathed her sword, she charged at the nearest bandit. Swinging her sword swiftly, she manages to lop off the mans arm. With one more move, she thrusts the sword into the chest of the man. His scream could be hear through out the woods, as some of the more stonger minded of the men came too.
 
It was clear to Gerran when she stopped singing, as one of the archers decided to fire at him. The arrow was wayward, and didn't hit him. Unfortunately its impact resulted in a loud roar of pain from the ox. The barbed arrow was lodged in the top one of the beast's forelegs. In hindsight using the ox for cover was perhaps not the best idea, for the archer fired at Gerran again, missed and hit the ox in the gut. This would be a problem for Gerran if he survived the fight, but for the time being he had more serious matters to deal with.

"Firebolt", he said to himself quietly as he decided on his choice of actions. His orders were not to use magic unless it was a dire situation and there was no other recourse but to reveal himself as a mage. He decided this was such a situation. He concentrated and wove a magical thread, drawn from the power flowing through his veins, he used it to create one of the simplest spells he had been taught. Its effectiveness was not reduced by this simplicity though, if anything it was the opposite.

The archer's chest was struck by an arrow shaped bolt of flame that caused it to fall back to the ground; a smoking charred broken creature. Gerran had darted out from behind the ox and unleashed the spell from the tips of the first two fingers of his right hand, and the archer had not had time to evade the burning projectile. There were only two bandits left now, but they were in the trees so Gerran would need to be carefull in his approach.
 
Isis gripped her sword tightly, as she moved through the woods swiftly. Her gown flowed with her movement, it had almost shown it was hard to move in such clothing. But Isis had great expirence with fighting in garb heavier than a mere gown, her prefered armor was much much more heavier.
She saw one of the men who were left taking cover at a near by tree, he had blood splattered on him from the man Isis struck down. Licking her lips lightly, fangs begun to peek over her bottom lip. Bloodlust swarmed out from her, it touched the mans skin. He shivered at feel of such energy crawling over his skin, he had turned to look at Isis.
Sheathing her sword, she pulled a dagger out of the skirt of her gown. With the snap of her wrist, the dagger flew towards the man. Before he could dodge, or even deflect, the dagger found itself embeded in the mans neck.
Watching him begin to choke on his blood, Isis found herself at his side.
Looking about, she tried to make sure Gerran couldn't see what she was about to do. She had to fullfil her bloodlust, so she ripped the dagger out of the mans neck. Her left hand shot from herside, grabbing the mans head by his hair. Pulling his head to the side, she moved to sink her fangs into his neck. The blood begun to slide down her throat, as she drank from the mans neck.
 
Gerran didn't see her. Probably a good thing too. He'd encountered the fourth bandit, and what had Gerran cursing his luck even more was the fact that it was the helmetted one.

He jumped back at the last second and narrowly avoided being cloven in two by a horizontal axe stroke. Gerran swore, well you would too. This wouldn't be easy, all he had was a dagger, so magic it would have to be. Trying to concentrate whilst a hairy red bandit was trying to chop you like a freshly fallen tree wasn't easy, but Gerran managed to long enough to send a cloud of sparks into the bandit's eyes that stunned it momentarily. This allowed him to put some distance between them.

Time to think. He didn't have long but he might only get one chance to deal with the bandit, so he'd better chose wisely. "Ah yes. Of course." He focussed his mind, and drew out two strands of magical energy, then wove them together. Then he opened his fist and spread his fingers. A lightning bolt formed from the fingertips and instantaneously jumped the ten feet the the bandit. There was a bright flash and a second later a rumble of thunder. The bandit lay smoking upon the ground with blackened fur and a frozen shocked expression.
 
Retracting her fangs, she let the mans body drop to the ground. Licking her lips, she wipes the corners of her mouth. Walking from behind the trees, she made her way to Gerran. Her eyes focusing on the smoking body lying at his feet, she smoothed her hands down the green skirt of her gown. Stepping over the body, she looks him in the eyes. Her's glowing slightly, she felt much better after feeding upon the scum that dared to mess things up. "What now?" Looking about, she spotted the bodies of those who fell.
 
"We have a problem. Well I have a problem. We have only just met so it is hardly your problem." Gerran replied and walked over to the ox. It was quite badly wounded, and although its wounds were not life threatening, pulling a cart was out of the question. He bent down next to the wounds, and pulled out the arrows. To do so he had to cut into the leg to remove the arrow heads. When the arrows were out, he used alittle magic to cauterise the wounds and stop the ox bleeding to death.

The ox was visibly in pain, but it was already partially unconcious from the initial wounds, so Gerran was able to work quickly. "I once had to do this to remove a thorny branch from a sheep, although I didn't have any magic to use then. Who'd have thought my old life as a shepherd would have relevance now."
 
Watching him removes the arrows from the ox, she watched as he use his magic to cauterise the wounds. Now how was he to pull the wagon, the beast was obviously in too much pain. "Well now that you have such skills, what are you to do now? How will you get this cart to your destination?" She could have continued to ask more questions, but she had to think of something.
(Sorry if it's short..)
 
"Well it isn't really carrying bales of straw. I cannot use my magic to move it, I am not that powerful, so I need to see if I can persuade the cargo to move itself."

Gerran sprang to his feet and walked around to the back of the cart. He pulled the small bales of straw from the top of the cart and threw the to the side of the road. Then he took a moment to concentrate. It did not take much power to dispel the glamour, and a few moments later the cart had within it, what appeared to be a large suit of armour, covered in runic symbols.
 
While he went to the back of the cart, she just stood there. Watching as bales of straw was thrown to the side of the rode, her green eyes following them as they hit the ground. She closed her eyes, as she focused on the feel of his power. Looking down at her gown, it was definately not traveling closes. Walking 10 feet from the front of the wagon, she just closed her eyes. Concentrating on knocking down her metaphysical barriers once more, her power seeming to was out from her body. Lightning seems to scatter throughout the sky, a bolt slamming down on top of her. The flash seemed to wash out everything, then it was gone. She no longer wore the green celtic gown, but silver and green armor.
dawn5.jpg
 
Gerran was too busy looking over the runes, trying to work out how to work the golem. He looked up in surprise at the flash and then the sight of her in a suit of armour that made him think of nothing close to protection upon a battlefield. He shrugged. He wouldn't have worn it, but he doubted he would have even fit in it, not to mention how ridiculous he would have looked.

"Do you think you could pass me the bag on the front seat?" He called to her.
 
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Nodding her head, she moved back towards the cart. Her armor had a sound of it's own, each step she took the sun glimmered off of her armor. Reaching the side of the cart, she reaches to pick up the bag. Walking towards him with it in her arms, she stops next to him. Holding the bag out to him, she just smiles at him. "Here you go"
 
"Thanks." Gerran said and took the bag from her. From it he removed a leather bound book with 'Gailan Aracana; a general understanding' written upon the cover. Then he put the bag on the back of the cart next to the golem.

"I must say I've never seen armour like that before. Its certainly flattering." He smiled and opened the book. He turned to a chapter on runes about two thirds of the way through and started to scan read through it.
 
A new Arrival

Pale white eyes narrow behind narrow slits in the drow's skull like helm as he crouches low on his perch, high in the canopy of the dense forest. Black Adamantine alloy armor clings to his agile form, perfectly crafted to allow for maximum maneuverability, and still protect well enough to deflect melee attacks in vital areas. long, white hair hangs low down his back, nearly covering his sheathed bastard sword. Long pointed ears protrude through holes in his helm, twitching slightly, quickly seperating the various noises while his highly attuned brain identifies and memorizes each one.
Peering down over a small trail, the drow quickly picks up a profound scent and realizes that it was recently traveled. Electrical pulses within the Elocator's mind begins to pulsate rapidly while rushing to the dark elf's optical nerves as Kel'han begins to focus hard on the trail. Almost instantly his vision shifts, picking up heat signatures recently left behind. A small grin sweeps across his hidden face as he quickly drops from his crouched position on his limb. He lands, rolling to absorb the fall, and comming up quickly, situating the blade upon his back, the drow begins the stalk. not knowing what threat lies ahead, Kel'han moved silently, and with caution.
 
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