A Shattered Sortie, a Vaunt against Virú

[Samson Option 9652]

 

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Ectoplasm camouflaged as lichen & black ichor ran like sap. The canopy cloaked the three soldiers of the Sepulchre in an extra layer of greens and greys, the understory of elms & poplars with shrubbery beneath obscured them from view on the forking paths that wound vein-like between Virú & Tirglas. Zilzibin held up a stiff open palm to Galbatorix & Gorkus as a man sauntered into view, nonchalant in gait and whimsical in daydreaming. As he crossed in front of the Taunttongue, all manners of hands sprung for him with tree branches snapping and ferns breaking underfoot like a trapdoor spider had leapt out.

 

The man yelled out as Galbatorix yanked him sideways and worked a web of hempen rope around and around him binding his arms to his torso. Soon after, a woman too became ensnared after she arrived in response to the first's outcry. Gorkus hoisted both prisoners together, bracing their backs together, and hushed them.

 

"You will answer me quickly, quietly, and without lie," Zilzibin began, crouching until the ebonywood mask lain over his graven head emerged from the manifold darkness of nightfall, treecover, and eldritch umbra.

 

"Are either of you magi?" the Taunttongue asked laconically, dismissively raising and lowering coils of hair dressing both of their ears. The man and the woman shook their heads.

 

"Are there any elves or magi that you know of behind those walls," he then asked, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder towards the city of Virú. They craned their heads as tightly as they could, though neither could look to the other. Then a cry petitioned the captors and drove the captives to struggle.

 

"Release them!" a woman bade the three of the Sepulchre. "Darcy, Kamo, we will sally forth to save you!" Zilzibin paused before turning, holding his forefinger and middle finger together in a motion to Galbatorix & Gorkus before entreating with the gallant woman approaching.

 

"Darcy & Kamo are under arrest by the Imperium Inquisition, their charges will be lain before them in the capitol," Zilzibin began, lawyerly & mockingly measured.

 

"For what crimes-," the third Virúnese complained before the paleknight cut her off, "Do you wish to take their places and learn of the crimes, I will agree to an exchange."

 

Darcy & Kamo rocked back and forth, half in struggle and half in protest to their being exchanged. "You may make a formal reply sent to the Imperial Inquisitorial Office for further information on the case," Gorkus said in jest to the pair in his custody.

 

"Very well, release my citizens & I will go with you! I am not the heir to Virú, but to her military. I do not take this kindly!" the petitioner announced.

 

"Inti, we didn't do anything! We should be fine, right?" Darcy cried out. Inti stepped forward, sheathing her weapon. Zilzibin motioned Galbatorix & Gorkus to undo the binds on Darcy & Kamo; they sprang away as soon as the paleknight laid hands on their replacement. Zilzibin worked Inti's hands behind her back and bound her in the same manner as the previous two captives.

"Run back to your city lest we change our mind," Galbatorix barked. The Taunttongue's head lifted to see arrayed before him & his soldiers a growing sortie from the city. He grinned with a wickedness that inspired courage in Galbatorix & Gorkus and stepped beside his new captive, Inti Pachakutiq.

 

"I will read the crimes of Darcy & Kamo of Virú, all may stand to be present and to hear them," the Taunttongue exclaimed in a booming voice before replacing the ebonywood mask he wore with an identical one. The sortie had come out as a mob, with all manners of weapons, accoutrements, & ordnances, and raised fist and voice in protest. The cacophony of disputations, of weapons unsheathing and clashing against shields, of daring bravado against the captors grew. Galbatorix & Gorkus readied themselves as some of the sortie leapt on the balls of their feet with excitement while some prepared to charge. The sortie swelled like a storm surge rearing to rush, then-

 

"The crimes are thusly," Zilzibin began, before his graven mouth drew itself lips that parted as if a tongue lolled out arrogantly yet no tongue could be seen. The morale of the sortie utterly shattered, many of the soldiers and town rabble jumped & reeled backwards and recoiled in terror that caused eyes to roll backwards and some of them to scratch at their armor & clothes furiously. Get it off me! They are stinging me! Its crawling all over! Some of the soldiers & townspeople fled tearing at their clothing, dashing the contents of their canteens against themselves, exhorted each other to bat at their bodies while they retreated.

 

"What happened?" Inti muttered in defeat before Zilzibin hoisted her up and braced his shoulder against her back. Galbatorix, Gorkus, & Zilzibin inched their way into a copse of trees as the few who withstood the curse cast by the paleknight reorganized themselves. At the head of the reduced sortie stood Awicha Paqar, bearing a spear dedicated to Votar, and she commanded the remnants to approach the soldiers of the Sepulchre. One of the soldiers faded into obscurity while another loaded a crossbow. 

 

"Do you think me moved? Mine soul has been returned in a greater form," Zilzibin taunted as Awicha approached the trio forming a rough testudo among the copse of poplars. Awicha, with her compatriots at her back, charged and drove the spear towards Zilzibin's throat. In a shower of menhirous stone chipped away, the Hyspian saw the Taunttongue arrogantly stare into her eyes as he drove his own menhir-spear into her chest. Gorkus launched abyssflame and Galbatorix caved the brave leader's shoulder in with the blunt end of his warhammer.

 

"Don't touch her! Don't touch my mother! Manam Imapas, Malla, Tompos, Mierda!" Inti cried out as she helplessly dangled in Zilzibin's grip, suffering the sight before her as a human shield for the paleknight.

 

A flaming bolt whirred through the trees and struck Gorkus in the leg, the flames seemed to be swallowed up and extinguished then by the abyss-blessed sculpting of his own form. The Iron Boar mocked the lady Darona who stared aghast from behind the iron sights of her arbalest.

 

"I am Gorkus, First of Kryndomere's Knights, emissary of Doom!" Gorkus yelled in a frenzy as he bit the edge of his shield to spite the arbalester's failure.

 

Ser Mauricio emerged from obscurity again and attempted to duel Galbatorix with the latter outmatching his melee with his Blackbone Pike. The Virúnese knight, through rune and roaming invisibly, tested the mettle of the great darkstalker and found himself at disadvantage each time. He faded into obscurity once more after Galbatorix broke his stance with a prod and jab of his pike.

 

"Cowards, why have three against one. If you were His disciple, you would know that he honors combat as well," Mauricio jeered as he became undecipherable from his surroundings.

 

"Chameleon-knight, do not speak to us about cowardice, go change your colors," Zilzibin replied in equal measure and a dismissive gesture with his chin.

 

"Ser Mauricio de Chameleon-Knight, we shall make sure his name spreads across the lands. His fame for disappearing like the ghost in de middle of combat," Gorkus added with a haughty roll of his shoulders. Galbatorix mimicked preparing to throw his pike like a javelin towards Darona, his feign broke her spirit and caused her to retreat in turn.

 

Galbatorix, Gorkus, & Zilzibin receded deeper into the weald then, leaving the slain for the routed to double-back in order to shroud, inter, & bury. The last detail of the Sepulchre-soldiers that the Virúnese saw from their battlements was the kicking feet of Inti Pachakutiq. One scout who bravely took on the task of retracing their steps, Joelina de Trastamara, returned quickly thereafter to report seeing the menhir-knight march solemnly into the sea.

 

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Kudos to everyone involved in this combat from all sides, from everyone being laidback and letting cool heads prevail and ensuring a fun interaction for all including, but not limited to @Flynnigan, @resurectionist, @Larso, @MrGarden, @KamoDOughdoe, @Dbird2, @Eliseth,@AechQQ, @Perkins

 

[Perkins 167]

"The Black Marshal does not disappoint in his hunts."

A Lich-Uruk speaks from the bounds of his Fortress, 'The Iron Boar' eager to taste battle again , under the command of such mighty being.

 

[Sr_Dimentio 586]

Joka, a jester ghoul that was around, not in the kidnapping per se, just making the child of the hostage cry after throwing a cake at her face, giggled as he covered his mouth "Hee hee... That was funny..." He nodded at his own muttered words as he remember the cake attack.