Iron Guard Siege Defense has started at Arx - Upper Boroughs - Seawatch North.

Planchet, a young valet, 3 Grayson Guardsmen, Alejandra, a snowy white hound arrive, following Ainsley.

Silas wields Dirge, an alaricite longsword with a faint crimson sheen.

Michael wields Brightroar the Sword of House Bisland.

Mae wields a wicked, thin-bladed dagger of whimsical design.

Late in the night... The walls are fairly quiet tonight. A small skirmish earlier that brought the attention of the Lord Commander and others of the Iron Guard, but nothing too particularly intense. Now the cool winter air blows in a light wind. Over the walls of Arx into the city, carrying with it a sickly sweet scent of decay.

Silas can be found at the ramparts, inspecting the general area and the men assigned there. He spent the earlier portion of the day primarily strategizing with his men and receiving bad news, so this was an odd respite for him. "If you're falling asleep, let me know so we can rotate you out. We need alert eyes," Silas says, projecting his voice out so they could all hear him.

"Someone should ransack those perfume shops and throw gallons of that stuff down there." Calaudrin comments from where he's staring grimly down over the side of the ramparts. The smell is getting rather disgusting. Hearing Silas' caution, he's snapped out of his contemplation and glances in his direction, nodding once. "Yeah, of coure. Sir."

Sparte is here for no reason. Yeah, no particular reason. Just slipping a leaflet here or there by the rest spots and where soldiers might relax between shifts. Stealthy like a large metal plated elephant that is absolutely and positively doing his normal duty.

Mae is likely more out of place than Sparte. Almost surely! Wandering the walls isn't particularly safe right now, but hey, her drab grey cloak and slight build offer plenty of protection! "I'm wide awake, sir," Mae reports in, as she walks right on the precipice of the wall, dangling one foot off.

Michael trails along the rampart and his nose wrinkles at Calaudrin's remark, "Yeah, not even sure it'd be considered criminal when fighting that scent." His lips turn downwards as he shudders once. The smell is enough to put anyone on edge. He casts a quick glance towards Sparte and shoots the other man a crooked grin, "We should sing at them at next sighting. I'm sure I'd be so out of tune their ears would bleed."

Silas seems less bothered by the smell than the others, but he does wrinkle his nose. "Ugh. Perfume on dead skin will just make it worse. Lavender mixed with rotting flesh?" He scratches his chin and peers over to Mae. "Careful..." He eyes the precipice Mae seems to be taunting. He glances down at Sparte, who lingers in the corner of his eye, then it goes back to Mae. "You might be able to help him with those leaflets."

"Also, no singing. Our ears will bleed, too," he quickly adds.

Are there shadows moving below in the darkness? Shapes low to the ground... Keeping away from fires that have been left below to try and keep sneak attacks from happening...

"I'm sure there's some sort of bullshit war time provision that allows us to confiscate needed goods." Not that Calaudrin would research such a thing... or would he? His attention shifts Michael's way and he grins with a snort. "I haven't heard one of you that was able to carry a tune yet." He makes an absent gesture towards Mae as she comes along the edge of the wall. "She has potential, if she doesn't fall to her death and increase the scent facto- Or /no/ singing. Boss' orders." He squints down into the darkness in between smartass remarks.

Mae pauses her antics, to eye Silas. Then she turns, and looks over the edge of the wall, down, to the insides. She leans right over the side, bending at the hips to stick her head out over the ledge. "Down there?" she asks. "But it's so far down, sir," she says. She straightens up, and looks to Silas. Then she turns and steps to the parapets, to peek over that side. She's far, far less bold, when this could net her an arrow in the face. "Uuummmm...?"

Sparte has his helmet on, so it is hard to tell, but there is probably zero shame for what he is doing. "It isn't a tune that really needs a singing voice to carry it, you know?" He tucks in another leaflet, having just one left in hand. "It was based on one sung by drunks by the docks." A clearing of his throat. "Or, you know, as I understand it." Yeah, good save there.

"I suspect perfume probably doesn't fit under needed goods," Michael offers in reply to Calaudrin. "Unless it somehow defeats them because it makes them smell better. That'd be something--if the key was disguising the smell." A vague frown follows Silas's orders about singing, "But the song Sparte wrote is brilliant. And it raises spirits." He squints into the darkness, but is distracted by Sparte's mention of the song being sung by drunks, prompting a lopsided smirk.

"I could prob--" The movement outside suddenly captures his attention, cutting off his reply. He glances back to Mae and begins to move to get a better look, closer to the edge of the wall. "Actually scratch that. I think we may have guests." Sparte's penmanship will have to be investigated into later, but Michael's retort was noted.

"You'd think that..." But here Calaudrin will trail off on the perfume subject, instead he'll slowly lean over to pick up his bow from where it leans against the ramparts wall. There's a smirk thrown in the direction of the conversation on Sparte's song, sufficiently amused even if he's now fallen into silence.

Mae draws back away from the wall, when Silas confirms it's not just her imagination. "Um... so... they're outside, and we're inside, so..." She looks from Silas, to Michael, then over to Calaudrin. There's a moment of consideration. "Do you want me to spray you with perfume?" she asks. Because she can't let that one go. She's already digging around in her pack.

Shadowy figures move around below-- the sentries on the ground not yet alerted to their movements. Friend or foe? Most very likely to be foe! But what are they doing...? ((OOC: @check perception + investigation at 30))

Mae checked perception + investigation against difficulty 30, resulting in 40, 10 higher than the difficulty.

Michael checked perception + investigation against difficulty 30, resulting in 20, 10 lower than the difficulty.

Silas checked perception + investigation against difficulty 30, resulting in 32, 2 higher than the difficulty.

Calaudrin checked perception + investigation against difficulty 30, resulting in 34, 4 higher than the difficulty.

Sparte tucks away the last leaflet, staring up towards the ramparts at the mention of guests. "Well since nobody else wants to talk I suppose I'll do it." Someone is looking forward to risking his life with the scavs and bringers again. Sparte cups his hands, calling out with casual rashness. "If you're evil, vile, or any combination of the two kindly present yourself for inspection! There may be a complimentary haircut in it for you!" Why go looking for trouble when you can make it walk to you?

Sparte checked perception + investigation against difficulty 30, resulting in 26, 4 lower than the difficulty.

Silas grunts at Mae. "For now, aye." He blinks when she offers to douse Calaudrin in perfume, but he leaves that choice up to the elder guardsman. Sparte's attempt at diplomacy is given a deadpan stare, but he continues to squint and attempt to deduce what the likely-hostile shadows were up to before he barks out any orders. "Weapons at the ready, men."

Michael's eyebrows lift at Sparte's assertion towards the shadows. He can feel his lips curve into a small smile and his head shakes lightly as his fingers reach for the sword attached to his hip. He inhales a sharp breath and holds it in.

"Maybe afterwards, girl. I might need it." Calaudrin replies quietly to Mae, stifling back a huff of laughter. It's one that he continues to stifle and hold back as Sparte opens up communication with the enemies. While the younger man is talking, he's nocking an arrow and warming up the fingers of his right hand while he continues to peer into the dark. With a grunt of exasperation, he turns to Silas. "You see that? They've got ropes. You're right about having guests." Somewhere down there must be a target, time to find it.

Silas sees the ropes flailing in the dimness and spins back to the men milling about below. "They're attempting to climb. Everyone, on the wall! Spears ready!" A pause. "They're not negotiating! Get up here!" He shouts back down at Sparte. Lord Commander mode Silas is pretty straightforward.

Mae was going for her perfume, but now she's going for her blade. Her messenger bag opens, and out comes a whimsical dagger that's curvy and odd. Looks more like an art piece than something functional. It comes out, and she falls quiet, putting on a more serious face. "We can-..." She starts. Then stops, and squints. She's not looking down the wall in front of them, she's looking off a little ways, further north. "What's going on over there?" she says. "There's more, Silas!" she squeaks out.

Mae wields a wicked, thin-bladed dagger of whimsical design.

Alejandra, a snowy white hound, 3 Grayson Guardsmen, Planchet, a young valet leave, following Ainsley.

Sparte turns around and moves with a start to get up towards the ramparts. From the look of his confusion, he thought it was something on his side of the wall. During a siege, no less. Maybe his sword is sharper than he is. "Coming up!"

Just as Mae makes her call the shavs below? They make their move! Half of them charge at the wall and throw up hooks tied to the rope, up onto the wall. While the other half pull out bows and start firing up at the wall defenders-- likely to cover their scaling shavmates.

Mae checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 32, resulting in 18, 14 lower than the difficulty.

Silas checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 50, resulting in 34, 16 lower than the difficulty.

Michael checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 45, resulting in 40, 5 lower than the difficulty.

Calaudrin checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 50, resulting in 17, 33 lower than the difficulty.

Sparte checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 50, resulting in 60, 10 higher than the difficulty.

Michael heeds Silas's order. He readies his sword and attempts to look at the wall. Through the darkness, he catches sight of the arrows a few beats too late, uttering a quick, "Watch o -- " yet even as the words begin to come out it's far too late, and he's catching arrows both at his armour, and into its weaker spots. His balance, entirely off, has him ambling backwards, struggling to find some semblance of stability situated in his spot on the rampart.

Silas seethes at Mae's report. "Fucking great!" Then the rain of arrows befall them and he raises his shield to block them. "Shields up!" He calls out to the men just joining them on the ramparts. "Keep yourselves protected, slaughter them when they get up here!" He's not in any state to attack, but he's hoping -someone- among them can...

    Sounds like a job for the great Sparte!

Well this is fun! Arrows start coming over the wall and effectively distract Calaudrin from shooting his own down at them. "Ow!" As one hits his helmet and bounces off, likely leaving a dent. "Aw, come on." He mutters, trying to get into a spot where he's not being whacked by dangerous flying projectiles. There's the sound of dinging metal as the arrows hit him, ruining his chances of delaying their guests.

Mae's just too busy looking that way, off to the North, where she maybe spotted another group. The arrows come, and she gives squeaks. Despite being so very graceful, there's nothing graceful about the way an arrow slashes across her shoulder, graciously cutting wool but not the leather below. Mae hits the deck, bellow down on the stones.

Sparte checked dexterity + huge wpn against difficulty 20, resulting in 54, 34 higher than the difficulty.

Sparte comes running up the stairs to the ramparts with his sword only half out. Finally yanking it free as the arrows start to strike he smacks one away from himself as he looks over the situation. The great Sparte indeed. With little hesitation or apparent concern for his self preservation, he runs right on through the rain of arrows, sword swiping aside arrows while taking half the face off of something trying to climb the wall in the same swing. "One haircut, next!"

Sparte manages to stab one of the Shav's in the face with is sword. And the man lets out a shriek of pain-- and lets go of the rope and goes tumbling back down to the ground. Meanwhile that means the other ones manage to scale up and get onto the ramparts. Six of them in total. Arrows fly up carelessly at the ramparts still-- and one of the Shavs gets stuck from its own archers, and falls off of the ramparts. The other five immediately leap to attack. OOC: Dex + dodge at 20 + dodge penalty for dodging arrows, and then dex + dodge at 15 + dodge penalty for dodging SWORDS.

Silas checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 50, resulting in 39, 11 lower than the difficulty.

Calaudrin checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 50, resulting in 14, 36 lower than the difficulty.

Mae checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 32, resulting in 42, 10 higher than the difficulty.

Sparte checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 50, resulting in 42, 8 lower than the difficulty.

Sparte checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 45, resulting in 59, 14 higher than the difficulty.

Mae checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 27, resulting in 24, 3 lower than the difficulty.

Silas checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 45, resulting in 21, 24 lower than the difficulty.

Michael has rolled a critical success!
Michael checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 45, resulting in 77, 32 higher than the difficulty.

Calaudrin checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 45, resulting in 42, 3 lower than the difficulty.

Michael checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 40, resulting in 17, 23 lower than the difficulty.

Silas squints at Sparte from beneath his raised shield. "Good work!" He moves to try to get in range to strike at the shav nearest to him, but another wave of arrows pelts his shield and a SWORD then breaches his defense while he's distracted. Much cursing abound. The alaricite-wielding Lord Commander was all but useless, for now.

Calaudrin continues to be buffeted by arrows and... was that a sword? "What the..." He cringes as one //whacks// him right upside the face before clattering to the ground. He's exceptionally glad for all that armor he's wearing right now. "Stop throwing things!!" He shouts at the attackers.

Mae pushes back up as she sees the men making it up over the wall. Her eyes go wide. This time, however, she doesn't allow herself to be totally distracted! No, she ducks out of the way of the incoming arrows, and in doing so steps too close to the men and their swords. There's yet another squeak when a blade comes her way, and she prepares for the searing pain. Only... right. She is actually wearing armor underneath that wool cloak!

Michael finally catches his balance after the first rain of arrows. With his wits about him a little more, the second arrow-assault, however, has him at the ready. He manages to get down fast enough, avoiding the hit this time. But then, he rises to his feet, and *CLINK* a sword catches his armour. He spins around, "Bright side: maybe that guy's disarmed now?" he mutters to himself as he aims to catch his balance from the hit.

Arrows are hitting Sparte now, but he is paying them no more attention than he would a particularly heavy rain. He holds his blade to the side, running down the wall towards the nearest shav. "Gloooriia!" It doesn't sound as cool as when Merek does it. Probably because Merek's voice sounds fully past puberty.

The arrows stop for now. Some cry from one of the shavs on the walls causing the archers to stop-- or perhaps to turn their arrows elsewhere. But meanwhile, another five hooks sail through the air and land onto the walls. More shavs about to be up? OOC: Attack is going to be dex + wpn skill at 25 - weapon bonus.

Sparte checked dexterity + huge wpn against difficulty 29, resulting in 36, 7 higher than the difficulty.

Michael gets a steel close helm with split visor from a double wrap sword belt made of quality leather.

Silas checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 21, resulting in 55, 34 higher than the difficulty.

Mae checked dexterity + small wpn against difficulty 20, resulting in 35, 15 higher than the difficulty.

Calaudrin checked dexterity + archery against difficulty 26, resulting in 55, 29 higher than the difficulty.

Michael checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 17, resulting in 28, 11 higher than the difficulty.

Silas with a frustrated cry, Silas -finally- gets an opening and throws his blade at the shav he was targeting. The alaricite wounds his foe through his shoulder, but the stumble following the attack causes the poor man to topple over the wall and meet his end with a sickening crunch below. Now that there were no arrows whizzing by, he feels more confident in moving, and lunges at the next bloodthirsty shav in his path.

Finally, things stop hitting Calaudrin for awhile. It's long enough for him to get his arrow nocked again and this time he aims, fires and hits one square in the chest, sending him tumbling over the wall. "That's for throwing your damn sword at me!" Just in case the guy was curious about why Cal is so upset while he plummets to death or grave injury below.

Mae got stabbed! She's still looking rather put off by the whole thing, even if the blade didn't manage to pierce her cheapish leather armor. "You..!" she starts to say to the man, but instead just gets low, ducks to one side, then comes up with that whimsical blade called 'Sweet Tooth'. And shoves it right under the shav's arm, up into the armpit, where she's rather sure he'll quickly bleed to deeth. As she stabs, there's a growl. A growl that would better suit a tiny little cat. She yanks her dagger out, and then, oh, there he goes. Over the wall.

Michael catches his balance once more, this time using that minor offset to advantage him just a little. He takes a single not-quite centred step to the edge of the wall, and swings his sword hard against one of the climbing shavs who had just reached the top. The blade cuts at the shav's neck, but before Michael can complete the cut, the shav is already falling backwards on the other side of the wall, collapsing with the echoing crunch of bones breaking when they meet the ground.

Sparte smacks one of the shavs off the side without ceremony, giving it a parting salute with a rude gesture before flipping up his visor. It shows off his rosy complection and the black smears where his eyebrows should be. "Oh? Someone should deal with those hooks, maybe."

The shavs are dealt with, but in that time five more have climbed up onto the walls. And more are below-- ten on the ropes now, all climbing up at once. Still one of the ones on the ropes is knocked loose by the Shav that Mae sends over the edge. Another-- just having gotten to the top is knocked back off of the wall by the one Calaudrin hits in the chest with his arrow. The other shavs are felled by Sparte, Silas, and Michael. Still more come climbing up. Making a push for the wall. And to the north along the wall? More... Attempting to scale down the /otherside/ of the wall now... OOC: Same attacks! No penalties for arrows this time. But you add +5 (so at 30) if you go after the ones that are further away.

Silas checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 21, resulting in 58, 37 higher than the difficulty.

Calaudrin checked dexterity + archery against difficulty 26, resulting in 39, 13 higher than the difficulty.

Mae checked dexterity + small wpn against difficulty 25, resulting in 36, 11 higher than the difficulty.

Sparte checked dexterity + huge wpn against difficulty 18, resulting in 70, 52 higher than the difficulty.

Michael checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 22, resulting in 35, 13 higher than the difficulty.

Silas successfully embeds his blade into the side of the shav he was after. He pauses as the skewered man flails around in pain, catching sight of the others approaching northward. "Sparte, stay here with me! The rest of you get the others! We can't let them into the city!" He shouts as he finally uses his boot to push the skewered shav off his blade.

Calaudrin continues to be relieved at the lack of projectiles. He steps away from Silas and Sparte, running forward until he's within a more effective shooting range of those coming north. Arrow nocked, eye squint, arm pulling back and then release. The sharp twang of the bow rings in his ears as he moves closer once again to find another target.

Michael runs to the north, following orders. "Aye, sir!" he has already broken into a run. And just as he reaches the other side of the wall, he uses the momentum that he acquired from the sprint to run his sword through one of the shavs scaling down the wall. His blade runs through the shav. Brightroar is drawn away from the body seconds later, and Michael is turning is attention back to the next nearest shav.

Mae's eyes are wider, and she's smiling bright. This is exciting! The call comes to get the others, further up the wall. "Okay!" she calls back, all professional and military to be certain. Mae then starts to sprint, right behind Michael and Calaudrin. She dives and rolls, skillfully making sure not to cross Calaudrin's shot, then pops up just in time to stab a man as he fixes his rope to start down the other side and into the city. Right in the small of the back. Might have hit spine, there.

Sparte runs around smacking shavs like a game of whack a mole. "Every single." He swings again. "One of these shavs..." He is swinging with increasing force. "The Knights said there is always a bringer near if there are shavs fighting. Stay sharp!"

Mirari checked dexterity + alchemy against difficulty 15, resulting in 39, 24 higher than the difficulty.

Silas checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 54, resulting in 29, 25 lower than the difficulty.

Mirari has rolled a critical success!
Mirari checked dexterity + alchemy against difficulty 15, resulting in 112, 97 higher than the difficulty.

Sparte checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 99, resulting in 46, 53 lower than the difficulty.

While Michael, Mae, and Calaudrin sprint off (or fire off) to the north, where the other shavs are trying to get down over the wall? Those Shavs that were a part of the initial distraction turn onto Silas and Sparte. Two of them swinging and stabbing at the Lord Commander. One of the swords managing to get between his cuirass and greaves to cut him shallowly.

Sparte on the other hand? It's three against one, and one of the shavs manages to trip him up, and another follows it up with a might stab at his chest, bringing the sword down with ribbreaking strength.

Sparte has rolled a critical success!
Sparte checked dexterity + huge wpn against difficulty 19, resulting in 62, 43 higher than the difficulty.

Michael checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 17, resulting in 53, 36 higher than the difficulty.

Calaudrin checked dexterity + archery against difficulty 21, resulting in 51, 30 higher than the difficulty.

Mae checked dexterity + small wpn against difficulty 20, resulting in 33, 13 higher than the difficulty.

Silas checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 16, resulting in 88, 72 higher than the difficulty.

The clattering of a fight behind him could almost be enough to distract Calaudrin, but his focus is solely on the remaining three shavs trying to get down the wall. He picks one, makes that one his focus and then carefully moves into position so that he doesn't accidentally sink an arrow into either Michael /or/ Mae. Friendly fire doesn't make for good companions later on. After that's done he'll let the arrow fly free and into its target.

    That may not have been the best judgment call, but Silas seems to have banked on the idea that he and Sparte could take on more shavs than the others, and the forces between them were about equal. He hisses under his breath when two come at him at once, but the wound one of them deals is comparatively shallow to the one Silas deals him.

    And it turns out it will be the last wound they manage to deal to him. He cleaves through one shav head like knife through a ripe melon, shoving it through his eyesocket, before whirling to throw him at his friend. The other shav stumbles in surprise, before he is run through and kicked off the wall. He rams his shield into another and slashes his throat out.

No one gets down! Not that Mae wouldn't zipline down after whoever slipped past! But she doesn't need to. No, she's fast enough to get to the next shav, and deliver a quick slash with her silly rainbow dagger. Of course, Mae is very short! So, ya know. Calaudrin can mostly shoot right over her head.

Michael twists around hard as the blade meets shav flesh, cutting through the nearest neck with a splatter of blood. A vague glance is given to the hilt of Brightroar, silent acknowledgment and thanks before twisting around in a near pirouette to continue towards the next shav.

Blood coughs out Sparte mouth, staining his teeth even as he gets a wild grin. The fight just went to another level for him. With a twist of the blade he slams a shav upside the head with the blade before thrusting it into the chest of a second. He then GRABS the stunned shav by one arm, spinning them one and using them to bodily slam into the third shav and carry them both tumbling back off into the darkness. Drawing his sword back out of the one he impaled, he steps up to the ramparts breathing heavily and shouts into the darkness. "We are the Iron Guard!" He swipes his sword through the air, shouting again. "This is our city, these are our walls, and you are NOT! WELCOME! HERE!"

Yeah, the teenager is yelling at the darkness. He probably thinks the uneven pitch in his voice is intimidating or something.

Well the Shavs on the wall are taken care of rather quick right? The skirmish is over quicklike...

Except, well, there on the wall a pair of long, clawed fingers and a larger-than-average body is being pulled up onto the wall. A Bringer there. Growling as it comes up this week.

Rumor spreads about an attempt on the life of Duchess Belladonna Pravus at the Ward of the Lyceum by a group of Bringers. Tales of archers on the rooftops raining arrows on civilians, and people turning on each other are sung by bards, along with the story of the survival of the Duchess thanks to the intervention of a group of brave heroes. Among those named are Princess Reese Grayson, Alrec Magaldi, Mathias Coaldus, Lord Tobias Telmar, Lord Ywaine Telmar and Orathy Culler. Word at the Hundred Cities also is that the duchess valiantly managed to keep the crowd on the streets from a full panic, while ensuring the wounded received prompt aid. The attempt by the Bringers was a failure, but with such a blatant yet coordinate attack it's become obvious that truly, nobody is safe as long as the enemy hides within us.

Silas simply stares at Sparte as he begins to shout, not breathing quite as heavily but likely coated in just as much shav blood. On Sparte, it was hard to tell if he was bleeding or if he was doused in the blood of his enemies. "You alright, guardsman?" He inquires warily before turning to face the Bringer hauling itself upon the rampart. "Huh. Looks like you were right..." He murmurs. He raises his blade again and advances.

He stares over his shoulder at Sparte and his shouting with big eyes before turning back and seeing a bringer coming up over the wall. "How many of these things are there?" Calaudrin mutters from his position between the two swordsmen behind him and the others in front of him. "I hope someone has a magic lantern or some fire or..." Something. More annoyed muttering to mask what's probably fear as he gets another arrow ready.

Michael's eyes flit to the Bringer scaling the wall. His lips part and his head shakes. With a sharp inhale he quietly notes, "Well, looks like we have an opportunity to try the perfume theory--" But even as he says the words, he's moving to intercept the Bringer, blade in hand.

Mae spots the claws. Her eyes go wide. She starts to back away, and then quickly looks around. Options... options... Becuase, yeah, no. No holy fire coming from her! She quickly sheathes her dagger in her belt, then moves to grab one of the ropes and grappling hooks. She's got a plan! ... Maybe.

"Turn your perfume into a fiery cocktail!" Calaudrin calls to the girl who's way too close for his liking. "I've got matches!" Somewhere. If he can find them in time.

Sparte sees the bringer, charging in at a flanking angle from Silas. His blood stained teeth are hidden from view as he snaps the visor back down with one hand, raising up his sword in a ready angle to engage. "When they handed out ears in hell you must've been getting your nails done."

Mirari checked dexterity + small wpn against difficulty 15, resulting in 61, 46 higher than the difficulty.

Silas checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 80, resulting in 35, 45 lower than the difficulty.

Mirari checked dexterity + small wpn against difficulty 15, resulting in 57, 42 higher than the difficulty.

Sparte checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 76, resulting in 51, 25 lower than the difficulty.

Silas checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 40, resulting in 51, 11 higher than the difficulty.

Michael checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 40, resulting in 54, 14 higher than the difficulty.

Sparte checked dexterity + huge wpn against difficulty 40, resulting in 52, 12 higher than the difficulty.

Silas checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 31, resulting in 58, 27 higher than the difficulty.

Michael checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 32, resulting in 76, 44 higher than the difficulty.

Calaudrin checked dexterity + archery against difficulty 36, resulting in 40, 4 higher than the difficulty.

Mae checked dexterity + athletics against difficulty 30, resulting in 67, 37 higher than the difficulty.

The bringer turns toward Silas and Sparte both. Its clawed hands lifting and slashing, and swiping at the two of them. Getting Silas in the face, and slashing across his neck and shoulder. Splattering blood.

Silas and Sparte fearlessly charge forward! While Michael, wisely, moves to simply intercept. Sadly, Silas isn't quick enough to dodge the incoming swipe, and his head whips hard to the side as he's swiped. It impedes his incoming charge somewhat - but only *somewhat*... "Oh you MOTHERFUCKER--!"

Mae is NOT getting near that thing. Nope! But that doesn't mean she's not going to contribute. "Michael, lean left!" she calls, as the lovely please-don't-hurt-his-face lord goes charging in. Mae has that grappling hook in hand. She gives a few quick twirls and then fires it out, at least ten or so feet away from the Bringer, and lands it masterfully, giving a firm tug to hook the monster's shoulder. It might just be Mae's used one of these things before! Whatever the case, soon as it's secure, she's dropping low to tie it off on one of the dying shav's legs. "Stay still," she curses at the man, as he twitches and bleeds.

"...Ow." Calaudrin remarks as the creature swipes Silas right in the face. Since his talent isn't with a sword, he stays backed up some distance and fires off his bow again. There's a curious look shot towards Mae as she ties the bringer off to one of the dying shav's.

Michael heeds Mae's instruction, leaning left as he runs and then slides forward to strike the Bringer's side hard. When the hook tugs at the Bringer's shoulder, he cringes slightly--silently thankful that Mae's aim stayed true. The cringe, however, gets an over exaggeration when the same cringe.

Sparte clangs against the bringer with his blade, not having enough force in the blade after having been banged around by the claws in turn. For a change he isn't shouting crazy things at the bringer, so, maybe take that as a win.

Mirari checked dexterity + small wpn against difficulty 15, resulting in 81, 66 higher than the difficulty.

Sparte checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 99, resulting in 82, 17 lower than the difficulty.

Mirari checked dexterity + small wpn against difficulty 15, resulting in 66, 51 higher than the difficulty.

Michael checked dexterity + dodge against difficulty 83, resulting in 26, 57 lower than the difficulty.

The Bringer gets stabbed, and then /hooked/. It snarls and turns and tries to charge toward Mae. On the way its arm swings and rakes down over Michael's chest and shoulders. Attempting to rend the man's flesh, while going for Mae.

The movement is instinctive, Sparte moving in the same direction as the bringer as it charges towards Mae. As the clawed hands close in for what looks to be a brutal strike, Sparte slams into the Bringer's claws, scratches marring his armor and foiling the strike. Huffing, Sparte inposes himself between them while shifting his large blade into a downward grip. "I didn't say I was done yet, coward."

Silas wheels around when he's done slashing at the Bringer. The sudden hooking of the monster catches him off guard, but he's quick to attempt to take advantage of the confusion. While Sparte parts from his side to shield Mae, Silas goes in for another stab, hoping to impale the creature in one of it's legs and hinder its movement even further. The blood now streaming down the side of his face threatens to get into his eye, but he remains focused.

Calaudrin checked dexterity + archery against difficulty 36, resulting in 42, 6 higher than the difficulty.

Michael checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 32, resulting in 52, 20 higher than the difficulty.

Silas checked dexterity + medium wpn against difficulty 31, resulting in 42, 11 higher than the difficulty.

Michael thuds tot he ground, meeting it hard as the claws of the Bringer scratch loudly against the metal of his armour. His head pounds against the ground, drawing a loud groan as dust displaces beneath him, rattling his head hard. Before he has a chance to roll back to his feet, claw meets flesh, catching the few vulnerabilities in the armour, and pooling red beneath the metal Michael wears while eliciting a loud snarl form the. He twists on the ground, rolling over and catching the Bringer's legs as he does so, and bringing himself back to his feet. "Fuck you," he spits blood on the ground.

Calaudrin is forced to change position as all of the chaos goes down. He runs low to the ground and finds a spot to perch that's to the side of Sparte and Mae. He draws an arrow back and after a few moments, aims his next shot at the creature's face. Might as well go for the eyes or the mouth, whatever ends up being most convienent.

His attack strikes true, embedding itself in the leg of the creature, though it does not hinder the Bringer as much as Silas would like. He twists his alaricite blade out of the monster as it flounders and the other attacks descend upon it!

Mae's eyes go wide as the thing actually notices her, and surely, the hook. There's an animal-like flight instinct taking over, and she debates her options. Jump off the wall? Roll between it's legs? Oh, Gods! But there's a flash of metal, and that horrible swipe is so masterfully handled. "Oh!" Mae says, aloud. She stares at Sparte - well, his back - for just a moment, then reality returns to her. Right, need to move! And so she does! She grabs that near dead shav, she hauls it up in her arms (woman must be hiding muscles under all those layers!) and then she tosses the shav. There will be a few seconds of free fall, as the rope uncoils, and then - SNAP!... to goes tight, all that falling weight jerking against that nasty monster.

The Bringer swipes out attempting to claw one last time at Silas but-- the rope goes taut and the Bringer falls backward. Being pulled right off of the wall.... When it hits the ground? It bursts into dust on impact. A cloud of it falling over the other bodies littered below.

Sparte watches the Bringer lean, tilt, fall, and looks over the wall to flip up his visor as it turns to dust. "Huh... Well if you pull yourself together we'll have another go!" He shakes his head, giving Mae a thumbs up. "Good thinking."

Michael spits blood again as Mae rigs the trap to make the Bringer fall on the other side. He rubs the back of his neck and side-glances Silas, "I feel like this deserves a drink." Pause. "And a song," there's a hopeful lilt to his voice as his gaze shifts towards Sparte and he adds, "But maybe after seeing the mercies." And then he adds. "I still think just singing might've dusted him." He lifts his chin and nods towards Mae, "That was awesome."

"Tired of these things showing up, attacking and turning into dust. I hope they fertilize the ground at least." Calaudrin mutters before finally getting up from a bended knee. He wanders towards the three wounded men. "Alright, who needs a shoulder to the nearest clinic or Mercy?" And that's the role he'll provide, helping people limp away!

Silas stands and grumbles, wiping the blood from his face. It's true, he probably won't get a scar, but it was going to scare some people for a bit when he returns to the Barrack. "Good work, men. And women." He nods sagely to Michael. "I'm definitely having a drink or two. And maybe a few dozen stitches." He is exaggerating. His gives Sparte a thorough once over. "Get yourself to the House of Solace, guardsman."

Silas also mentally takes note of Mae's creativity!

Sparte checked willpower against difficulty 15, resulting in 29, 14 higher than the difficulty.

Mae watches, so very hopeful, as the line goes slack. Fortunately, the others are there to properly knock the thing off balance. It catches, and over it goes! Her eyes light up, and then she presses up on the parapets to lean over and watch. Smash! Dust! "Woah..." she says. She blinks a few times, then drops back down. She turns to look about, and then plants eyes on Sparte. She takes two quick hops to the man, then jumps up, and wraps her arms about his neck, and pulls herself up to close that foot height disadvantage she has. She hauls herself up, by Sparte's neck, until she can lean in and press a hard kiss to his lips. She kisses, then draws back. "My hero!" she beams. And then it occurs to the small woman that Sparte almost died a lot tonight. "Oh! Gods!" she drops. "Oh, I'm so sorry! We... um.. Mercies! We gotta get you...!"