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Post by rosallora on Jun 5, 2019 18:08:59 GMT -8
GRAB LIFE BY THE HORNS
"Ay ay ay!" An older gentleman, a scarecrow-built and scraggly bearded individual who looked as much salt of the earth as one man could, is suddenly in on the attention. He jumps over the fence himself, showing a spry alacrity that does not before his age. "Awh SHIT! AWH SHIT KEEP ON RUNNIN' BOYS! GO GO GO! DON'T YOU GO SHOOTIN' TIRANO, I GOTTA GET THAT HUNK A MEAT TO STUD! RUN! WE'VE GOTTA GET 'IM BACK!" His legs pump quickly, a coil of rope around his shoulder his only equipment. He presses the straw hat studded with flowers down to the crown of his head, heedless of any perceived danger as he too runs towards the rank of the Warrens. |
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Post by Capster on Jun 5, 2019 18:18:45 GMT -8
Sarak looked over and called back. "TIRANO COULD FUCKIN KILL SOMEONE." He sighed and quickly called back. "How the fuck are we gonna get him to calm down or get him down? Tire him out!" He more calmly yelled over to the older gentleman as they all ran to corner the bull. Sarak unnocking his arrow and slinging the bow over his shoulder as he ran with the group of people he barely knew.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Jun 5, 2019 18:28:53 GMT -8
/Arnulf/
He was huffing and puffing too hard to shout out at the men who'd chosen to run after the bull. Instead, his thoughts were solely on putting one foot in front of the other as fast as he could... but even then, he was making up the rear of the posse. He did have time to contemplate how asshat stupid he was for leaving his stall and meats unattended, but he could always find another stag to slay... there weren't even half many Sarak's around.
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Post by EloHim on Jun 5, 2019 18:43:46 GMT -8
/Volundr/
To him running like this was not uncommonб but the bloody bull didn't make it any easier for him. His stamina was not infinite and if they dont stop soon this will end in him completely running out of any air. He was conserving as much as he could by not talking for once. That bull was sure not chatty either.
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Post by rosallora on Jun 5, 2019 19:52:33 GMT -8
Antioch is quick on the draw but he isn't as young as he used to be, that's for sure. The four men tramp into the Warrens like it's absolutely nothing - no torches, no food, no shovels, just four men with dicked up brains and the desperation to get a bull back.
"Tirano ain't no monster, sonny! He's a good thing when he ain't worked up! He's just- well, he's worked up is all!" Antioch keeps up his pace, still scrunching his straw hat to the top of his head. There's the distant sound of bull - the sound of hooves, specifically. "Thought it'd be a good lil' bit a exercise for him! Nuh uh! Not so!"
Upcoming in the path is a rather large fallen log, branches sticking out and shingled in moss.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Jun 5, 2019 20:04:50 GMT -8
/Arnulf/
In his Youth, he knew he'd run circles round these young dogs... But here, he was panting like an old hound. The bastard of the litter; it was fitting, he supposed, that he was working up such a sweat. It wasn't his job to be pretty and pose for the nobles, it wasn't his job to do fair battle on the wargrounds.
As the roots were trampled underfoot, and trees passed him by, that lazy log set in the midst of the path was set before him and he only just recognized how close it was from his pensive stupor to skid to a half halt and vault over it; he still lost a fair bit of time slowing down but he was still moving. His mind immediately went to thinking about loosing an arrow to hobble the bull, but thought better of it until he was closer.
With some deep sniffs, he tried to keep aligned with the Bull's path... Like hunting an oversized fox, he supposed.
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Post by Capster on Jun 5, 2019 20:09:13 GMT -8
"I am sure-" Sarak paused as he quickly identified the large log in front of them. "He is a wonderful bull but how the fuck are we gonna calm him down enough to just walk him back." He says before he quickly made his attempt to jump over and on-top of the log. The one issue came to fruition when he landed. His foot went straight through a section of rotten wood, into the log itself. Sarak toppled over but kept himself from seriously injuring himself. He just was...stuck. "Go try and cut em off I'll catch up!" Sarak called as he went to attempt to free his leg.
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Post by EloHim on Jun 6, 2019 5:32:25 GMT -8
/Volundr/
He got around quite fine. A run trough the forest was a familiar hurdle for a Viking, leaving in a region with an abundance of trees and mountains... It was a childhood game for him, competing with other boys and girls about who would be the first to make it to the edge of the woods and back to the village.
So fallen logs were not even acknowledged by him as he jumped over one with ease, leaving one poor sod stuck behind. The other two held up so far which was good - he dreaded the potential of catching up to the bull alone.
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Post by rosallora on Jun 6, 2019 5:51:04 GMT -8
Antioch, despite being a man of a considerable age, was not one to be cowed by an occasional obstacle. With a quick holler he jumps, digging the tines of his pitchfork into the wood to leverage his job, gangly limbs akimbo and sailing over poor Sarak. "You're gonna miss all the fun, boy! Just drift left, we'll get 'em circlin' on that way! Keep up!" He yips, calling to the other two. "Now we head 'im on left! Run him around the other way, gettem goin' left an' out! Slowin' him down ain't gonna be a cakewalk! Better to tire him, yeah!" Antioch puffs next to Arnulf, a man who seems to be of similar age.
They all run together, the stink of the Warrens starting to set in full. The sound of the bull was still audible, and yet, there were other sounds about as well.
Antioch looks about as they run through a clearing, his expression twisting slightly at the smell and the sound. "Yanno, I don't quite like the look of this..." Sarak, slow but close behind, hears something particular: the snorting, and squealing, of pigs.
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Post by EloHim on Jun 6, 2019 6:47:05 GMT -8
Volundr is unstoppable in his running, oblivious to all noises but the sound of bull's roaring.His back was protected, his hammer was nearby so he had nothing to worry about, right? Sure! He'll get that bull and get the money. And get himself a strong drink.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Jun 6, 2019 7:24:40 GMT -8
/Arnulf/
With his heart pumping in his ears, he could barely acknowledge the farmer running beside him with a grunt and nod behind his own sweaty blonde brow, where his dirty strands clung to his face with grease only just washed. It seemed he might have to visit a bath sooner or later.
That said, piggish noises and odours were beyond him as he focused simply on sprinting on, veering slightly left as the Farmer commanded; he'd corraled horses and wolves before, a bull ought not be too different, so he hoped...
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Post by Capster on Jun 6, 2019 7:29:39 GMT -8
Sarak listened to what the farmer said and then began to hear the squealing. A sudden sense of terror hit him as he quickly unstrapped his dagger in its sheath. "Drift left...Drift left." He muttered to himself quickly as he began to use the pommel on the dagger to punch the wood out to free his foot. He quickly pulled himself away and began to run back, drifting left and attempting to catch up to the rest of the group, following the old man's instructions.
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Post by rosallora on Jun 6, 2019 7:36:25 GMT -8
The warrens weren't the safest place in the world on the best of days. On others, it was deadly as sin. Over the heads of Antioch, Volundr, and Arnulf, a spear flies, its solid metal body burying into the soil ahead of them. There's a squeal from behind, a pig charging into view, its flesh melded and reformed against a series of metal plates and curves. It bursts out of the brush just ahead of Sarak, fury erupting from its snout.
Antioch keeps running despite the spear. "THEY AIN'T KILLIN WHAT THEY CAN'T CATCH!" Upon passing the spear he attempts to yank it from the ground for himself, but ends up with a handful of grime instead. With a grimace, he wipes it off on his pants. "TEE-RAAAAAAA-NO! TEE-RAAAAA NO! YOU GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE, THIS AIN'T WORTH IT FOR MUCH LONGER!"
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Post by Capster on Jun 6, 2019 8:02:54 GMT -8
Sarak stopped and made eye contact with the pig. "...The FUCK IS WRONG WITH THIS TOWN!!!" He yelled before quickly and instinctively slipping his bow off of his shoulders, and knocking and drawing with his solid motion as he began to move. He let the arrow soar, watching the black and red fetched feather bury itself into the angry pig's body.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Jun 6, 2019 9:06:25 GMT -8
/Arnulf/
He'd only bolted after the Bull because of Sarak, so it would be rather unjust of him to trundle on after the Bull when Sarak was in trouble; heedless of Antioch's howling about the bull, he stomped his good leg into the mud to brake his momentum. The motion made him skid for a bit, but his hands moved as his torso twisted and nocked an arrow; his wolfish eyes already set on his target. The swine, only just reacting to the arrow Sarak had loosed... Arnulf was still wobbly on his feet, but he knew the sound of an arrow oft sent animals to scatter, or wince at least; so he set his eyes upon the core of the beast and loosed the arrow half-drawn.
With a silent thrum, the fletching hissed over his fingers and snapped out down range, even drawn so halfly, it flew quickly and cut through the meat of the Swine's ribs. A glancing shot, but the broadhead had caught enough to warrant a sizeable cut.
He didn't wait to steady himself, instead he started on to close the distance between himself and the swine.
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