Tag Team Hunt

The mists have come again, rolling down the mountain and covering the forest in a thick, damp blanket. The trails are slowly drying, but many are thick with mud. In a few places, numerous Goblin footprints can be seen. They mostly follow the path in both directions. Heavy things have been dragged about, leaving long gouges in the mud.

Murder's camp, at first, appears to have been abandoned. The fire is out, cold for at least a day. Many personal belongings have vanished, and even the leanto seems unused.

There is a set of footfalls, heavy, languid as a figure ambles through the muddy tails. A shiny silver sith-makari, their face having the last dredges of gold paint on his face, and one of their bared arms having been bandaged up tightly. Skielstregar hums tunelessly, going through the familiar paths. Time to make a stop, and check up on a friend.

He breaks into the camp. "Warrior Murder, Skielsstregar is..." he starts to announce, but it dies off. "... Murder?"

Quirking his head at the sight, he enters, looking down at the gouges and gobbo feet. The sith leans down, face near the ground as he takes a deep inhale, then looks about the space, using both nose and gut feeling as he follows the to and fro foot prints. "Murder?"

It does not take too long for Skiel to spot it, the point where her ... and they are hers... footprints seem to vanish.

That's when a pair of eyes open in the mud... then a broad grin of bright, pointy teeth appears. "Skiel! Is everything okay?" The Gobbo looks around, and pulls herself free of the mud, slowly standing up. "We can't stay here. There are bad things about!"

It was strange, he could basically smell the gobber. But.. where? Skiel's face was near the ground, searching, not unlike a canine before he's face to face with a broad grin. "Ack!" he yelp, jumping back and stumbling back onto his rear with a thud.

Malefic lands beside him, rumbling a barely contained laughter.

"W-Wha-" he stammers, himself and the bandage on his arm spattered with mud. "What bad thingsss? Are there enemiesss near?" he asks quickly, starting to get on edge.

"Werewolves.", she says quietly, glancing around. "They are apparently rampaging around the countryside. Get this, they are even attacking animals... for no reason except to kill them. People may starve if this is happening."

Skielstregar swiftly gets back up, him reaching for Malefic. "Thisss one hasss recently returned from fighting their leader, and others fight the pack. There... are some that may have escaped..." he murmurs, casting his gaze out to the forest line. "That isss part of the reason why this one roams."

"It's why I moved all my stuff out of camp. I didn't want people coming to visit and being endangered. I'm gonna fight them." The Gobbo peers at Skiel's arm, gesturing at the bandaging. "Are you okay, though? Maybe you might heal up a bit more? Uhm... I hear that they are really tough, and uh... silver kills them? Do they regenerate?"

Skiel's scaled brows furrow. "Fight them with group. Not alone. One bite can spell disaster, turn you into one. But their leader isss dead, and many of the pack are dead."

He looks down at his arm. "Sssa, thisss one isss fine. Mended as much as magic can, now nature tendssss to it. Do not worry, it wasss no bite, it wasss a sword."

Malefic's jagged crack down the blade splits to rumble deeply. "Silver, they are weak to. Obscuring the moon assists. Though, I did not feel skin knit back upon taking a nibble. Their savagery and aggression is to be cautioned."

"Please tell me that fire works to kill them?", she wonders of the two, looking from Skiel to Malefic and back again. "For then I have the upper hand. If not fire, what works best?"

"And I do worry. May I hunt with you, then? I worry also for Ous and Sedev. New friends. Good friends, like you, Skiel."

Skiel shrugs. "Thisss one froze sssome, ice worked. Thisss one thinksss fire will work. They can be killed, they are just tough. And you mussst sssee Shamanss from Eluna after fighting them to be safe from turning into... one of them." He shudders.

The makari tilts his head. "Thisss one doesss not see why not. You can come with thisss one on the patrol, if you wissh. But, ah, thiss doesss not know of these people. What do you worry for them."

Murder shrugs her shoulders, "Just as I worry for you. People I care for. I should be doing the fighting, not them. If I can't even protect my friends, then what am I good for?"

Skielstregar chuffs, a gout of cold air going over Murder. "Ssso you think thisss one should not be doing the fighting, their Warrior duty?" he asks in a rumble, slightly amused.

The Goblin shivers at the blast of cold air. "I do care for you, ya jerk. That's cold! But no, you can hold your own, you're scary strong. I would still be upset if you got badly hurt, though. My friends can fight, I.. just want to protect them."

She crosses her arms. "It is one thing I will give Alexandria. It is generally safer there."

Skiel rumbles a chuckle at the reaction, him leaning against Malefic. "It isss thisss one'sss duty to get badly hurt, and to protect life. If you feel so inclined to keep them safe, then merely be with them. Thiss one appreciates your kindness."

He bobs his head. "That isss why thisss one essscortsss many between Wilderness Pointe and Alexandria."

"Well, from now on I will do so too. But we should first hunt the escaped werewolves. That is the fastest way to protect people, remove as much of the threat as possible, right?"

Skiel rumbles a roil in his chest in agreement. "Though-" he holds up a finger, "-we know not where they went. Many of their numbersss were ssslain or surrendered, ssso we are looking for a pine cone in a leaf stack. Ssso, it isss bessst to patrol, and check on the people that live in thessse woodsss."

"Are they likely to be on their own, if they scattered to the wind? Maybe I can stay out here then, and instead be a beacon of safety?" Murder starts to pick off some of the frozen pieces of mud. "Ooh, do it again! Do the cold again!"

Skielstregar shakes his head. "No. Better to be in pairs," he informs. "Find dead game that isss mauled. Follow tracks. Ssslay."

He blinks at Murder, but he shrugs and inhales. Not very deeply, but enough to make the temperature drop so much that frost develops as he exhales a large plume of chill.

Murder squeaks and laughs, turning around so that both sides are covered. She starts to pick and brush more of the mud off, the pieces falling off like mud-scales. "So pairs.. find mauled game... track and slay."

Skielstregar is amused at Murder as she gets the mud off. He bobs his head, pulling Malefic up and across his shoulders as she rests his arms across its haft. "Ssssa. Do you wisssh to gather your thingsss and come with? Thisss only is fairly early on their trek."

The Gobbo takes off running, disappearing behind her camp. There are banging and dragging noises, and eventually she returns. Sword strapped to her back, her backpack jammed full of so many things. "Okay! Let's do it!"

Skielstregar grins, him holding out a hand to the side, a tinge of black ichor dripping from his fingers as Murder returns. "Would you like a steed?" he asks. "To make our search faster?"

Murder blinks at Skiel, and grins. She puts two fingers in her mouth, and inhales deeply. The whistle is sharp, loud and high-pitched. Crossing her arms, she looks around, listening.

"WILFRED!" She whistles again. And there's an answering howl. Several minutes go by, and soon the sound of something running can be heard.

Then a black, four-legged form is seen. "Heeey puppy, come!" The worg runs right at Murder, and knocks her down, licking the Gobbo's face.

Skielstregar blinks at the whistling, him looking about and- tenses slightly at the howl. And he almost gets Malefic to bear, the but the weapon refuses to budge. "Watch," the weapon rumbles.

And out pops- a... worg? "Erm... Murder, that's-" and its licking Murder! "Murder! It's eating you-!"

Malefic pulls back, keeping Skiel from lurching forward. "Observe."

He stares on a moment overlong before blinking and rubbing his neck. "That isss... well, the People have swiftclawsss. Erm, nice to meet you Wilfred."

He shakes his head, inhales deeply, "Voarexautha!" he growls, the ichor on his hand dripping to form a rapidly growing puddle. He reaches down, grabbing the edge of it and ripping it open further.

There's an echoing whinny, and trotting out of the inky abyss of necromancy is the eerie, black haired horse with crimson eyes, trails of inky wafting from its hooffalls.

Without waiting, Skiel hops up onto the already brit and bridled steed, him patting their side. "Thisss one isss ready!"

GAME: Skielstregar casts Mount. Caster Level: 10 DC: 14

The worg lets up, leaving Murder to get up, while he checks out the new mount. Wilfred rumbles, sniffing at Skiel and the horse. The Gobbo groans, "Such a rough pup." She snaps her fingers, and Wilfred goes to her again, sniffing at her hands, and licking her face. Slipping to his side, Murder climbs up onto the worg's back. She crouches low over his shoulders. "Ready when you are!"

Skielstregar chuckles. The makari and steed smelling... not that good, probably rancid to an animal. "Yesss... worgsss usually aren't... domesssticated."

He shakes his head, slots Malefic into their holding spot on the side, and he points forth. "Then we ride!"

He whips the reins, and they take off into the woods without a singular whinny. Hoof beats nothing more than echoes.

The Worg darts forward, following the horse with a relative ease.

"He's not domesticated. We just have an understanding, and we work together.", the Goblin explains. "See... I stole him from a dream and made him real. And I wanted to keep him. We've gone on a few journeys together, and gotten to know one another. He's still wild, but... he listens. Usually."

Skiel and Voarexautha are rather in sync as the latter trots at a fast pace, the makari looking about as they go. "Thiss one sssees," he says a bit loudly over the echoing hooves. "Dreamsss. Ah, thisss one dealt with them for a while, they don't like them much when they get too real."

He shakes his head, and gestures down a path as he turns his steed that way. "Anywho, thissss way, there isss a sssmall bluff too look over."

-End pose-