Initiative 15
Happy Hunting Grounds
20897
THREADID
129
POSTS
121 - 129
DISPLAYED
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The statue begins to move, attempting to strike at the Lost from surprise. However, all three manage to see the movement in time to react, though Lou's reflexes are a touch slower than the others. Anya and Degnar both see their attacker coming before he makes it the few steps from the pedestal to the group.
As the Draconic edged forward, she held back her earlier frustration at having lost the Satyr. Held back but did not let it go completely. She wanted the chance to focus the anger, to deal enough devastating damage to draw blood, or break bone or-
Or crumble statues.
She had not been expecting a statue, but the Draconic this time vowed to act quicker and allow not escape. Her fingers splayed, the bronze talons glinting against the bright rays of her mantle and the flickering of the flames against her skin. The first hit was powerful, her muscles bunched as she exerted enough effort to try and inflict serious injury.
The second attack came swiftly on the tails of the first, and her bronze fangs were bared with a deadly intent. In the semi-darkness of the museum, her eyes narrowed into slits. The savage Draconic wanted to feel the crunch of the statue against her fingers; and as she attacked it with all then force she could muster she just managed to hold back a laugh. Whether the attack succeeded to her expectations or not, she relished the exhilaration of the battle.
The last attack lacked the ferocity of the second, as she flicked her fingers toward the statue enemy; but maybe the Draconic was just aiming to add insult to injury.
-3 Glamour for MotTB x3, possible Body Blow off first and second strikes
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As the Satyr makes a desperate leap, Anya blurs into motion. Degnar can smell the blood as she strikes, the air suddenly full of the scent. The first strike lands as he leaps, claws meeting flesh. The second catches him in the air as well as he flies past the draconic. A vicious twist of her claws turns the Satyr's momentum against him and nothing he can attempt will prevent the fatal strike. The third a final blow is, at least in comparison, not so much a blow as it is a flourished finish on the end of a masterpiece painting.
And then with a sudden, violent thud, the Lost attacker hits the ground and all the beauty and grace of the moments before flees in the face of simple, visceral truth. The man lies still on the floor, lifeless eyes staring up at nothing; goat-like, rectangular pupils already beginning to dilate in death. Curling horns frame the goat-man's face, though one is recently chipped in the fall against the marble floor. His backswept legs sprawl in random directions as a pool of blood rapidly flows out onto smooth floor beneath him. The stillness of the hall of statues seems, at least for a moment, even more stark in comparison to the violent burst of motion that proceeded this man's death.
Anya please roll 3 dice to avoid Clarity loss for "Killing another changeling."
Out of combat rounds, please feel free to post in any order.
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As the satyr's body hit the ground, Degnar put his bow away since there was no longer a need for it. He moved swiftly towards Anya and the dead satyr, inspecting the corpse for a moment before turning towards her. "It is done then," he said to the Draconic, giving her a single nod. "We need to hurry out of here though, and take the body with us." After all, it was possible they may have triggered some alarm system, so it was definitely better to not leave the dead satyr behind.
Anya watched the Satyr crumble under her violent, concentrated assault with a rapt expression on her face. Her yellow eyes remained narrowed, her taloned fingers maintained the semi-balled state, her body primed for further attack. She wanted to be damned sure the Satyr would not rise again and, for her, the coppery scent of the blood that filled her nostrils was not enough.
The dark, primal nature of the Draconic was pleased with how events had gone. It reveled in the sensation of the Satyr's warm blood trickling from talon to finger. The scent of blood hearkened back to the days of Arcadia, of the cave and offerings, of food.
Her stomach lurched with warring feelings of desire and revulsion at the act committed and, as Degnar pronounced the task done, she turned away to study the preferable face of the winter archer. The urge to lick her talons was tempting, but instead she crouched to wipe the deadly bronze points against any unsullied part of the statue she could find. It might not work, but Anya felt the better for it.
It had been necessary to kill him; but even the Fairest had not anticipated her onslaught being quite so catastrophic.
"Agreed. Let's waste no more time," she stated resolutely.
It needed to be done. There... was no other way.
You liked it.
The thoughts did not help overmuch.
Lou watched, stunned and amazed at Anya's execution of the Satyr.
He had no words.
"Hmm... Yeah, let's go, " he said as he began examined the shredded, meaty, corpse. The scent of the blood rushed him all at once, evoking visceral memories of his time in Arcadia. Lou, more out of curiosity and a need to help out, approached what was left of the Satyr, lifted it up, and threw it over a shoulder. "Into the thorns, then?"
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Degnar nodded in response to Lou's question, glad that the Draconic had opted for carrying the satyr himself. "Yes, to the thorns," he replied in his usual monotone voice. "And then, to the market." With those words, the Darkling slung his bow onto his back, since there was no longer a need to have it ready. He began to walk back in the direction they had come from, not wishing to spend anymore time in that place.
Swift : do you want us to continue on this thread? Or would you like the trip to the Fleshmarket and all that jazz be handled on a separate one?
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I'd like to wrap this up and do the Fleshmarket as a separate scene.
With the saber cat's dealth with already, the three Lost manage to make their way back to the Hedgegate without any further difficulty. The path back is unchanged from before. Perhaps it is good fortune, but more likely this trod has been traveled many times and become more intransient than some. They eventually come to the fateful fork in the road that they first did on their journey. One leads back to Sacramento. The other, into deep shadows and the Fleshmarket....
Great scene everyone! I'll let you each decide if you want to continue on to the Fleshmarket with Degnar, or if you'd say your goodbyes and let him finish this grizzly business on his own. Degnar if you'd like to start a new thread for that scene, please feel free, otherwise I'll get one started in a couple days :-) .
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