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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Jul 21, 2017 16:56:17 GMT -8
Last posts
/Taas/
She nodded, taking a knee next to Villon with the bandages in hand; she looked over the damage with a look of concentration and determination. It was clear she’d had to do something of the sort enough to get a system of treatment down, as she freed up her hands and stretched out the gauze: holding the roll in one hand, while wrapping a thin layer around the fingers of the other.
“Shut y’mewling, t’s only a bitty of a blast–”
Taas began to dab at the places where shrapnel had sunk through his hide tunic and into his skin. Making the wounds cleaner and more apparent, while also brushing away lingering scrap. In the end, there were only six, admittedly gnarly, shards plugged into his torso.
“–C’mon, c’mon stop it, ey? Quit squirming; gonna make things worse that way.”
She grumbled, looking sternly at the older man before huffing, and going back to cleaning the wounds.
Once that was finished, she tore off the bloody gauze and set it on her leg.
“Alright, gonna need you t’get upright for me, yeah? Here, my arms: your arms.”
She made vague circular motions for him to grab onto her, as she stooped a bit closer to his chest: her arms already starting to wrap around his and onto his back, ready to help him up.
Whether he wanted to do so with or without assistance, her position would force him to move against, or with her.
//
/The Ambusher’s Path/
The infected corpses began to sway a bit more vehemently; going so far as to make noise from their overgrown and molded maws.
There was more rustling in the bushes, as well as snarls and chanting echoed across the boughs and trunks of the Weald. Some sounded just beyond the brush, others sounded miles away…
[Nasuada/Mithra]
The bandaging process was good enough to staunch the overflow of blood, but would come a little late; the bandage would soak almost immediately, requiring the practically the whole bandage, leaving her old wounds yet untouched.
Mithra would suffer now from low blood levels; her head would be swimming, everything would feel cold and, indeed, sluggish. The most prominent sensation would be the heat pulsing from her old wounds with the Carrion Fiends.
//
/Jean/
Through grit, sweat, and tears, he finally managed to come to actual and tangible reality. His suffering was appeased only by the alleviation of Death looming over his danger-close detonation.
He looked about himself, to find regimented bandaging and field treatment of his wounds, signature to Tony who looked unnaturally fretful over him.
Jean offered a little and wounded laugh, as he reached out and patted Tony’s cheek.
“Ah, I am fine, my friend. Merci.”
With that, he rested his head in the mud.
//
/Tony/
With a sigh of relief, he let himself a moment of relaxation and rejuvination: a smile spreading over his plain features as his last comrade patted his cheek. Though, as he noted the infested’s rising activity, his face grew blank and stern once again.
He looked up to the violent band of Hamlet Mercenaries, and huffed, as he looked down to Jean.
Grunting, he slipped his hands underneath his comrade and carefully lifted the man up in his arms, mud and blood dripping from the body; the man’s silence was unnerving, but Tony had faith, as he looked over the group: hoping they realized his plight, before moving and standing beside the exit of the clearing. Hardly noticeable, but for the slightly trampled sticks and roots.
//
Nasuada slowly stood up, ushering Mithra to do the same. Exhaustion and a sickness plagued her, but it would not kill her yet.
“Is he able to walk?” She asked Taas, but not focusing on her. She was focused on Tony with a worn expression, one that had an understanding vibe to it.
——
Mithra tried to rise, failing once… Twice… Until the third time she finally got up. She clutched her glaive and stared at the fungal corpses with fear, the noises of the Weald adding to it. She just wanted to leave, to heal and maybe even leave this place.
==
Villon did not speak in the process of his bloodied garments and exposed skin being cleansed. The ringing, the toiling of the bell that called yonder, seemed to fluctuate on occasion, from a high pitch toll… to a toll from the deepest depths of the void, calling out, to reach out and yank him down violently. His vision was still blurred, fighting to remain conscious. He was only a man afterall, no matter the bulk or size, the body had its limits. Altogether, his body was vastly numbed, especially in his legs. Yet, either by sheer willpower, or just through his mind over-exaggerating the numbness (which probably wasn’t the case), Villon managed to stand.
Slowly, in pained sway and a throw of his arm over Taas’s shoulder; the executioner managed to rise, despite his grevious injuries. Fresh blood seeped from the sharpnel wounds that impaled his chest, along the varying wounds from past times amounting. Faint tremors in his legs, and the paleness in his skin, indicated his body was failing to manage due to blood draining from his system as time went on. Thankfully the bandages seemed to have helped clot the blood, but any intense movements such as running or fighting would lead to the clotted blood to open up the wounds once again.
“I-I won’t fall, not ye-yet… got a job.. to do, to get you back!”
Villon coughed weakly, blood speckling his palm as he covered his mouth, then returning to hold his chest after he was done. Yet… the odd, protective aura seemed to flow back into Villon if the lines of his tone were anything to go by, which indicated a sense of pride, and care. A father, even without children, still shelters those he cares for, even if they aren’t offspring to begin with.
“Death c-can… wait.”
==
/Taas/ "Aaaah there we go- Ah, See, right... Alright, here..." She comforted the larger man, her muscles were hardened like iron cord, but thankfully, the cushions of her gambesons and leather were surprisingly accomodating. Her scent of old woody pine and salt was evermore apparent, almost overpowering the overwhelming scent of sulphur and coppery blood. With Villon now set about her, she finished wrapping up the bandages around the man's chest; doing her best from the awkward angle, but she managed regardless. She held sympathy for the man, yet there was a steadiness about her, a worrying degree of it in truth: there was no question in her capacity to carry Villon, only how many men like him she'd carried. And how many lived. "... There, tighter than'na peach, not as sweet but... well, we can work on that when you get me back, yeah?" She chuckled, her voice harsher, raspier than before as her neck strained, her muscles burned from the fighting and transforming... Indeed, she could still feel her joints loose or tight in certain areas where the bone had not set back rightly. She looked on towards Nasuada and Mithra, nodding as she looked to Tony and Jean, forcing her legs onwards to follow them. // /Jean/ He could do little more than look miserable, as he seemed ripe to vomit his guts out; if they didn't spill out from the countless holes in him. His previously boyish charm all but burned to cinder with the blitz detonation so danger close. However, he managed to stay conscious; if but for a little Frenchly rural song, muttering it listlessly as Tony led on. // /Tony/ With a tactile look over of Mithra and Nasuada, spying them all capable of moving; thus, his honor and dignity satisfied. If they fell behind as he pressed on, it was their own fault for not being strong enough. His ear was quirked to the wind, and occasionally twitched as a sound echoed through the wood, but he forced himself to stumble behind Jean's song, his own voice somehow managing to sound worse than Jean's. If but in the droning, borish way he spoke. Regardless, with little more than a simple jerk of his head, instructing them to follow, he slipped into the brushwood trail... // |
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Jul 24, 2017 12:58:17 GMT -8
Mithra groaned as she moved forward, her gait full of stumbling like a drunkard, her wounds burning with every step threatening to bring her down. She used her weapon as a walking stick to try and help her move, but it was punishing. She jumped slightly in surprise as Nasuada moved her arm around the woman's neck so she could lean on her for support.
She stared down at the shorter woman, a look of confusion plain on her face, but she didn't mind the help. "Tha-" Before the first word was finished she was cut off by Nasuda.
--------
Nasuada could see the barbarian wouldn't be able to walk by herself, she could see that she was possibly going to collapse without help. "God damnit." She said, and without further thought moved to help the woman albeit a little grudgingly.
She could see what the woman was about to say and she cut it off before Mithra could even start. "Shut it, just focus on moving. I don't want the death of us to be you." She said harshly, focusing on moving forward and following the others.
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Post by relentless on Aug 2, 2017 13:55:31 GMT -8
"Aargh.. ye-yah? Le-let's h-hope they have sum booze in that pigshite hospital place, ya?"
Villon murmured weakly as he pressed a weak hand against his leather tunic whilst the other was wrapped around Taas's back for support. He hobbled slowly, every movement caused a snap of pain to shoot through him, but it wasn't the worst... thankfully.
His axe was gripped in that weak hand that was currently held against his chest. The iron and the oak shaft held close, and awkwardly, as if he were bearing a small child in his arms.
"W-we... we gotta go..."
Villon rasped with a building worry, looking over toward the corpses as they passed them.
"I-I won't let you go down... not a-after we sp-spent a good couple days lookin' for ya... sides', you've got better legs th-than me to get along to the 'am-le-let!"
Villon pips up a bit, a slight rasp of humor escaping his bloodied lips as they hobbled forward with the rest of the wounded spirits.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Aug 10, 2017 8:21:40 GMT -8
/Taas/ She grit her teeth, almost audibly grinding as she hobbled onwards to the path Tony had extracted to; the possibility of escaping this woody hell was something of a miracle. It had felt as though years had dragged them through the ringer of this place on their first bout. Hauling Villon was the most immediate example of such trials; what a thing to do to survive a blast. She supposed presuming his survival was a mistake, as she pulled him into the brush at last and began their exfiltration. "Ye-yeah... Alright, ya fuck. Take me home." Nasuada had gotten out of this relatively unscathed, though... whether the wounds she bore were on the surface or deeper within... She'd noted a slightly pallor hue to her umber skin, something burgeoning on the starts of sickness. Mithra, on the other hand... If Taas could, she would have tried to carry her out of these woods too; though with only two arms, the effort would be futile what with her current occupation with Villon. Part of her wanted to swear them off for coming back, but she couldn't do that... She knew she couldn't have gotten out of the woods on her own, no matter how much of herself she lost to her inner demons. She'd have to talk to them about it too... Later, in the Hamlet. If they didn't die before then, that is. // /Ambusher’s Path/ [Exiting The Weald [[AFTER TWO YEARS]] : Taas (recovered), Villon, Mithra, Nasuada, Jean, Tony |WOUNDS| Taas : -One broken floating rib, assorted stressed ribs == Villon : Severely wounded -Two gouges from Carrion-Fiend talons along the right side of the abdomen. Clotted. Bandaged. Untreated. -Assorted shrapnel wounds across torso and lower face. Minor bleeding. Bandaged. Untreated. == Mithra : -Three deep gashes from Carrion-Fiend talons along her back -One .46 caliber/ 11.6mm mine` ball shot to the stomach. Assorted shredded internals, bleeding. Bandaged. Untreated. == Tris/Nasuada -Inhalation of Poisonous spores : Beginning stages of a Fever : light coughing, overheating, light-headedness. == Jean -Assorted heavy shrapnel wounds across torso, face, and neck. Bandaged. Untreated. Tony -Some back pains -Dark-Magick scarring and bruising along legs, arms, and torso. == |END WOUNDS| |LOOT| Taas -One long-necked Mandolin == Tris/Nasuada -One Blood Ruby : The gem appears to be glistening, and wet. Holding the red crystal, it clings to bare skin and sucks on it, akin to dry-ice or salt. : 1.8k Gold average sell price |END LOOT| |OBJECTIVES| -Find Taas (0G)  -Find Stolen Relics (1,000G) -Return Stolen Relics (1,000G)  -Find Bandit Camp (500G) -Destroy Bandit Camp and Presence on the Old Road (2,000G) Speak with the Heir to claim your rewards. Due to the longevity of this mission, prices have been adjusted to accommodate potentially missed expeditions. Experience is duelly adjusted. Raise the following heroes to Rank 3 Taas, Tris/Nasuada, Mithra, and Villon |END OBJECTIVES| |CONCLUSION| The party makes its way along the Old Road, following Tony and Jean, before leading them to the Hamlet. The Abbey Relics remain in the Weald for future recovery. Contact me if you wish to do so. The Deserter's Camp is available to be looted or investigated in the future. Contact me if you wish to do so. Tag your response with |CONCLUSION| and your agreement to the preceding statements. If anything is unclear or if you wish to discuss things OOC, put it within the confines of |CONCLUSION| |END CONCLUSION| |
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Aug 10, 2017 10:49:54 GMT -8
Mithra was pained, she was hurt so much....but the thought of finally completing a worthy mission and saving a friend boosted her morale considerably. Taas was safe, and Mithra had found she was even a beast not fully human. Something she would want to talk about when she had the chance. Her only hate was that she would be stuck in the Sanitarium for who knows how long healing like always. And the fact they would have to return to retrieve what they had been really sent to get gave her a sense of foreboding. The journey would not be over for her, not yet.
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Nasuada could feel it, but she wouldn't believe it, she kept making excuses it was the over use of magic making her feel this way. She didn't want to think she was sick, the thought of doctors and nurses taking care of her irked her own selfish pride. But, if they could cure it faster than she could figure out what the sickness was she would do it. She doubted Villon would make it, but for once she would keep her mouth shut and let the others feel what hope they can.
Though, another more pressing matter was being concerned on. Obitus had left a mark on her, even if he didn't mean to. Her magic was what someone would say is doused, a flame of power brought low. Her magic and herself would need time to recover before her usefulness was regained.
|CONCLUSION|
I agree with the preceding statement.
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Post by relentless on Aug 10, 2017 12:01:13 GMT -8
Defeated. Broken. Yet he still breathed, and so did his comrades. A victory nevertheless, despite his failures of observation and due protection of the others. A thought he would hold heavy, but that's nothing a drink wouldn't take care of. He slugged on, accompanied the saved, and as of recent, the saviour. Taas, if that were her real name, the deathly grey wolf who didn't care where the blood came from when she was in that form. But as a human, she made Villon smile. A bold, courageous and iron willed soul. A friend.
A companion against the darkest shadows.
Yet these thoughts soon faded, as the edges of the hamlet were just in sight... his pouches empty, and with only a few gold pieces to get him a drink or two. Perhaps this would be a good way to get sober, or to starve.
But that didn't matter now.
He lived, growing closer to this darkest estate after such a long, and grueling expedition. But it was one of adventure, mystery, horror and excitement. Something he hadn't felt in a long time. Though those sensations were awashed, as the same bitter personality fell over him once again to drown him out.
-Conclusion:
I agree.
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