Hunt the Great Hellwyrm

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Asana's eyes narrowed on the structure a moment as they drew near. His hands grasping the hilts of Vengeance and Courage. Sliding them out of his scabbard he knew full well that what ever was inside would not be happy to see them. He could taste the cooked blood in the air, which made his stomach turn a little. He had been to many body burnings including the plague but never was the stench and taste on the air so strong as it was in this former great jewel of a city.

Slowly he began to descend to the hard ground. His eyes turned towards lox for a moment, before drifting to Rand and Aramil. It seemed they had two members who maintained a hardened combat line, a spy, a disgruntled old man and a seer. Granted it was not the ideal group for fighting a cult, but you take what you get. Looking to Baros he signaled with his hand to stop approach.

Raising his other hand slowly he pointed to Rand a moment before indicating his eyes and pointing towards the temple. Meaning he wanted Rand to take a look first and then come back and report what kind of trouble they should expect. The only worry Asana had at the moment was the pyre of smoke was so visible that it may be a signal for others to find where the advanced scouting party had made camp.
 
Cultes des Infernos

Lox Regardie allowed himself to drop from that standing levitation as everyone else ceased their movement. It was becoming evident that Lox didn't speak much, 'less he was very serious or very drunk.

For now, his face was shadowed beneath the gloomy palat of black sky, and his quiet eyes reflected the soft but horrid light of those unknown torches. He was said to be a Seer, yes, but he was as clueless as the rest of these beings here.

A foot or so from his body, his Staff floated within the reach of his hand. In a motion, Regardie had snatched it and allowed the staff to rest horizontally against the small of his back.

He wasn't scared, but he was slightly anxious for movement. He could handle himself, and perhaps a few others if the need be. Let us move then, his mind was shouting. Calm, dear Lox...he told himself.
 
Rand reined-in quietly alongside the old man, his eyes drawn through the gloom to the teetering structure that was illuminated inside by the flickering of torches. The ongoing chanting brought back unpleasant memories, but also seemed to send a tingle up his spine.

Until this moment, he'd been simply going with the flow, following the general consensus because he'd had little else better to do. But now, it seemed, things were about to get quite serious. He couldn't help but draw a few unpleasant conclusions from this cults existence where all else was blasted ruin.

Either whatever had destroyed this place had allowed them to live, suggesting that they were in league with it, or that they were worshipping whatever had wrecked the place. Either way, he had to agree that they probably wouldn't exactly be overjoyed at the appearance of this erstwhile little band.

Asana drifted alongside Rand, and gestured towards the temple. It took Rand a moment to realise what he wanted. Then it twigged. Of course, the Elf would have formed some idea of how Rand made his living by now, and he was the best choice to go take a look around. With a barely supressed sigh, Rand tossed his reins to the Elf, and slid from his aging mounts back, his boots landing silently on the scorched earth.

"I'll go and take a look around" he said quietly before moving away from the group and towards the rather ominous-looking temple. As he moved silently, employing one of the skills of his illicit trade, he discreetly slipped a throwing-knife from either sleeve, the hilts nestling smoothly into his palms. The blades were dulled to prevent any unwanted glimmers or reflections, and he was quicker with these knives than most people would believe. Light willing, I won't need them!

He ghosted across the rubbled and ash, the cloying, burning stink making him wrinkle his nose, and wish he'd pulled his scarf back around his face. Barely a stone was dislodged by his stealthy passage as he neared an invitingly open doorway....
 
...Rand would see eight hooded figures stood in a circle. Each of them wore a black robe that hid their identities. Seven of them held torches and stood with their heads bowed. The eighth figure held a bloody dagger in his right hand, and before him on the ground was the form of a dead woman. She looked young, and was fairly pretty, but her naked torso was covered in blood that had poured from a cut throat. The wielder of the dagger chanted in a hellish tongue; the language of devils. The word Yeg was mentioned often as he spoke the ritual. The temple itself had been defiled. The altar to the god of the sea was as burnt as the rest of the city, but profane symbols had been scrawled upon it, as they had on the ground where the body of the girl lay.
 
Peering around the edge of the doorway, it's doors reduced to ash in the preceeding intense heat, Rand spyed the perfect shelter in the form of a collapsed coloumn of deep blue marble. From where he was he could only see the backs of two figures, seemingly hooded and robed. Checking that neither was looking or his way, or likely to see him in their peripheral vision, he ghosted forward, coming to a crouch behind the chest-high pile of cracked and splintered marble.

From where he knelt, he coulf peer through a gap in the rubble and see the inhabitants of the now desecreated temple. Rand guessed it was desecrated since there are few temples left that supported Human sacrifice, and the young lady sprawled on the floor was definitely what Rand would call a Human sacrifice. He felt a pang for her - he didn't know her, nor did she look like anyone he knew, but he never liked to see a woman suffer, and judging by the scuff marks in the ash on the floor and the blood spattered across the room, she had suffered before the end.

The cause of that end stood over her, chanting like a man posessed, clutching a blodied dagger in his fist. The words sounded garbled to Rand He's probably summoning something nasty thought Rand darkly. Around the naked, blood-smeared corpse stood seven other figures, each robed and hooded, keeping themselves obscured from the flickering torchlight. They all chanted in the same tongue as the knife-wielder. The only word that Rand could pick out was 'Yeg', whatever the Hells that meant.

The temples principal shrine had been blasted like everything else in this damned place, but inaddition to that, profane, arcane symbols had been scrawled over it's ruined form, just like they had across the rest of the temple, across the floor and up the walls. Whatever God was worshipped here is not gonna be happy!

Rand had seen enough. He slipped back to the doorway, and crept across the space between the temple and the others.
 
Slick and shimmery goes the Cat.

As unwisely as it was, and possibly surprising, Rand would feel a presence behind him as he crouched behind the remains of that marble pillar. The presence was quick and quiet, and a small gasp of air, barely audible came from it as Lox Regardie allowed his eyes to land on the grisly scene and heard those blasphemous words.

Shocked and horrified, and perplexed. Regardie had heard the name 'Yeg', or something like it, before. Something about snakes came to mind, but the Seer could think of nothing else, save what a disgusting feeling this entire matter set his stomach in.

"Mr. Rand!", he whispered in a hiss. Lox had been quiet, in fact, the other might not even know he had vanished as such. "I didn't want to see you go in alone, and I'm afraid my curiosity had taken the best of me..."

His tanned skin glimmered a hot golden within the reach of the morbid firelight, and Regardie pressed close to the pillar, somehow using up less room than he should and peering out again to look at the Heretics.
 
Baros stepped closer to Asana, and allowed the tip of his sword to rest upon the melted cobblestones. "I think if we have to attack, which I suspect we will, that the two of us should lead such an effort. You have the look of a palladin to you, you should be perfectly suited to this kind of work." He spoke in a hushed tone, then he stepped back and waited for Rand to return and tell them what was going on. He'd not noticed that Lox had joined Rand, but the plan remained the same as it would anyway.
 
Asana nodded slowly to Baros after he had spoken his peace. Looking back a moment to Aramil a moment he seemed a bit worried about the elderly mans safety. He could feel the smooth ground under his boot it seemed to have kept some of the heat from the attack. Turning slowly he looked to where Lox had been standing but finding him gone a look of shock over came his face.

Casting a glance to Baros he pointed to where Lox had stood but was no longer. This could be bad, very bad. Lox was a seer, or atleast seemed to be, but with his sudden disappearance it was possible he was with the enemy, by force or by his own will, either of which meant they were known to the enemy. Crouching low his twin rapiers held tightly in his hands he moved towards the temples outer wall on a similar approach to that of Rand. Although he had not taken up the profession that Rand had he was an elf, and atleast that would make him quieter than most of his fellows.

As he reached the wall he looked back to Baros and pointed to the wall on the other side of the opening. It was then he saw Rand and Lox heading back into the space between the temple and Aramil's position. Crouching low he picked up a small pebble from the cracking buildings base and threw it at Rand. It may not have been enough to knock him sideways, but it should have been enough to get his attention, before rolling down his shoulder.
 
The aged figure simply watched on, shrouded in what little mystery he could find in the shadows of his hood. He had casually slid the long oak staff from its place on his mount and now let it rest across his lap as he sat, observing the group. Not surprisingly, he didn't make any motion to head forward into what he only guessed was a building ripe with cultists all too eager to tear some interloper limb from limb. He certainly wasn't about to charge in there on horse back, swinging a blade, either.

A black gloved hand snaked out of the sagging cloth of his robes just long enough to lightly pat the mane of his horse, soft whispers assuring the creature as he awaited the return of Lox and Rand, or the charge of Asana and Baros. Neither, it seemed would rouse him from his current spot.
 
Baros creapt forward to where Asana motioned. He was not normally one for sneaking. He preffered a face to face confrontation, but his boots were of soft leather, so they made little noise as he moved forward. His sword he kept behind the wall, in case its faint red sheen gave him away to the cultists. Then he waited.
 
Oh dear...

(I was waiting for Rand to post, but, I'll toss one in.)

Lox Regardie was somewhat of a seer, but he was a bit more than that definition. He was now very curious to why this cult was here, and why it had either arrived after the devastation or survived it. This struck him that the two were somehow connected.

Perhaps a bit of scrying on the mind could help? It was worth a shot! Regardie was no telepath, but he could wrap certain magics to his favor, and this was exactly what he did.

Detect Thoughts was a smaller end spell, and its effect for him allowed him to hear the jumbled thoughts of those around him as if he were in a crowded room. The deeper the thoughts, the more muffled. It lasted about 30 or so seconds, so Lox wasn't entirely hopeful it would mean anything.
 
The eight men were in the grasp of religious fervor. They were convinced that the destruction of the town was an omen that their God, Yeg was going to return to power. They had come here to what they thought was a site filled with his power, in order to worship him.
 
Asana looked to Baros and nodded slowly as Rand seemed to have moved out of the main frey of where the fighting would occur. As Asanas hands tightened on the hilts of his Dual rapiers, Vengeance slowly started to give off a reddish aura, while Courage was being wrapped in what looked like a lightning bolt. He was working himself up for battle. He had lost sight of where Lox was and that was a worry for him, but more so the thought of accidentally killing him if he was in the way.

Inching closer to the cracked hole of a door way into the defiled place of worship he could glanced to Rands form wondering how many people he should be expecting to be coming at him from inside. He knew the fighting would commence soon, it was either that or a retreat, and of the two he preferred fighting.
 
Ever the withdrawn member of the party, the aged figure simply remained upon his mount, away from the others. He was watching the events unfold from the scouting spot they'd taken up earlier. Lightly patting the neck of his horse, he waited rather patiently for the fighting to erupt.

An odd thing occured though for Lox when he activated the Detect Thoughts spell. The many echoed thoughts of those around him did not contain those of the old man. Instead a faint almost sinister lashing of wind could be heard and in that torrent were Lox's own muffled thoughts, delivered in Lox's own voice back to him. It would seem that the old man at least posessed some defense, and perhaps a greater knowledge of telepathy. Though, perhaps Lox would not even notice that among all the crowded voices, Aramil's was not present.
 
http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/11.01/images/FF.gaming.2.jpg

(Pictures are better then a physical Description)

A knight, in shinning armor no less, charged in from the left of the cultist circle with the war cry,""For king and country!" He then tried to ram his shield into the nearest one, the cultist clutching the dagger, and tried to follow through with a horizontal slash while the man was off balance.
 
With all the chanting, magical appearing, and tossing of pebbles, Rand felt quite put-upon. Lox's sudden appearance, and his gentle whispering in his ear had almost earned the seer a knife in the gut, but Rand wasn't some green purse-snatcher on his first outing. He didn't reply to Lox, instead staying focused on the rather more dangerous spectacle of the cultists before him. He also gave little heed to the pebble tossed by Asana, although it's gentle skittering across the flagstones did produce a wince from Rand. Elf or not, if he gives me away, i'll have his bloody ears! he thought, with no real malice.

Asana's attempt to draw his attention did give him an urge to check behind him. After all, last time he looked, the Elf had been a fair distance away... Rand suppressed a rather aggressive curse as his eyes fell not only on the Elf, his wings drawn close, but also the damned spellsword, both a lot closer than they should have been. From the set of their faces, and bared blades in their hands, it was quite clear to Rand what they intended. And he for one had no plans to be stuck between the two of them and the soon-to-be-slaughtered cultists!

Crouching even lower than he was already - his knees were now brushing his chin - he turned briefly to Lox "I'm getting out of there way" he gestured to Baros and Asana with one of his bared knives "You could do a lot worse than following me!". With that, he headed away from the cultists, ghosting across the scattered rubble, keeping out of sight.

He came to a stop just outside the temples former outer wall, enough of which remained for him to stand up, then looked back to the others. Any moment now things were going to get messy. He hefted the blades in his hands, ready to toss them, and shifted his hip, feeling the familiar and reassuring weight of his sabre there.


*OOC: Sorry for my acsences boyos! I have been a busy little chap, what with sound-engineering school concerts, gigs, rehearsals, Xmas shopping, etc, etc! But you can all relax, because i'm back, and we can start chopping up cultists!*
 
With Rand out of the way, and the seer no doubt magically propelling himself out also, Baros nodded to Asana and then prepared to move in. He wouldn't bellow a warcry, or charge in so that every cultist was ready. That kind of approach had a tendency to end badly. He gestured to Asana to go right towards the knife wielder, and that he would go left to block the cultists from leaving, then just to get the point across he ran a finger over his neck in a throat cutting gesture.

Then the newcomer took Baros' plan and tore it apart. The newcomer killed the cult leader, who with a dagger was unable to defend himself against the powerful sword strokes.

Baros swore, and then moved to join the battle. If he didn't act now it was possible that the other cultists would escape. "Pyrious" he said and the sword in his hand suddenly burst into flames. It took the cultist nearest to him a second to turn, but that meant that instead of a single clean stroke to the back of the neck, the cultist crumpled to the ground as Baros pulled his sword from a gaping cauterised gash in the side of its upper body.
 
Asana turned looking into the room as Baros bolted inside he knew where he needed to go but there was a knight in there now, and it seemed he was not on the side of the cultists. Turning quickly on the Ball of his foot he turned and caught a cultist through the throat with his Rapier Vengeance, while Courage remained outstreached towards his back.

Asana knew full well the plan had been completely destroyed by the emergence of the new guy, but at this point that was of little consequence what was needed was the defeat of the cultists and quickly. As Asana moved from his last Cultist he turned looking at the remaining five.

Licking his lips he Yelled " Baros, Left ! " Before looking to their shinny friend it was unknown his intentions or reasons he had shown up but it was evident he had some skill. " Shinny Human Right! " He yelled as he held both his swords forward aiming among the middle of the group of disorganized cultists. It seemed as if there was lighting transferring between his blades as he looked at the middle. A Low level spell would at least kill one or two of them and the others would be least. He waited to release the spell as he continued focusing on his targets hoping Baros and their shiny friend would have understood his yells.
 
The lightning bolt hit the knight and electricity surged through his iron armor. He let out a yell of something not human and his helmet fell off to the ground. His face had the paleness of death and his eyes were completely empty. The undead are a single minded and vengeful lot to be true. This knight rose from his grave out of sheer rage at the cultist who murdered him and his beloved wife, then defiled the temple of their god. Now with their killer brought to justice(the cultists with the knife) his spirit leaves this plane and his body falls to the floor an empty and cold shell.
 
The aged figure had managed to trot his horse slowly to the outter husk of buildings that the battle was taking place in. He certainly wasn't interested in getting his hands 'dirty' and maintained what he thought a safe distance, while waiting for the others. Had he noticed one of the cultists has slipped away and was creeping up behind him with a dagger, he'd have been more inclined to spur the horse than stay and battle.

Luckily, Aramil had no need for either action. His horse suddenly bucking, the old figure flinging forward like a rag-doll as the hind legs kicked up and into the face of the cultist. It took a moment for the old figure to calm his horse into steadying and allowing him to slide from the saddle and over to the unconscious cultist. Beneath his hood a grin crept in the shadows, as he quickly hobbled to his saddlebags, withdrawing a long, sturdy rope. Aramil wasted no time binding the unconscious cultists wrists tightly behind his back, the rope fastening tightly to his bound ankles as well.

Once more the weary figure managed to drag himself back into the saddle with entirely too much effort, littered with grunts and groans. With the cultist bound, and not significantly hurt, he hoped perhaps now they could get some of the answers many of the party sought. With that in mind, he waited for the others to arrive, so they could begin the 'interrogation'. He only hoped perhaps some of the other cultists survived long enough to provide some information as well.
 
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