RP:A Drow and Goliath

Part of the Something Wicked Arc

Summary: Encara comes across a very naked giantess while tracking the monstrous bear that has been causing trouble around Frostmaw. As it turns out, Oline is after the very same bear and the two strike up a deal to take on the creature together. When the beast shows itself, Encara and Oline take it on with sheer strength and slippery dexterity, but are ultimately forced to flee after Oline takes a powerful hit to the head and Encara's enchanted arrows do little damage. They retreat to the City of War and Eleenin's clinic, where they come across Meilani, recovering from her recent Titans of Winter match.

Frozen Trees

Oline hadn't been out in the frigid wilderness for far too long... not since leaving the Fjaaldenreik. Her icy-white flesh, mottled in scars and burns covering most of her body, blended in well with the snow and frost gripping the forest around her. At ten feet tall, the young giantess could have been a tree... though the burgeoning femininity of her body likely made her a bit too shapely to be mistaken at more than long distance. Her motionlessness, however, might lend the illusion some credence. Which, then, seemed the more likely to come across? A naked giant standing perfectly still in the midst of a forest... or a somewhat curvaceous tree? That would be left up to anyone beholding her.

Encara is hunting, as usual. Wrapped in her thick cloak, armoured and armed to the teeth with bow in hand and two daggers sheathed at her back and hip, the half-drow prowls the woods with a deadly intent that's almost tangible. She may not have the complete trust of Frostmaw's residents, but in the years she's been haunting the City of War, the giants have been forced to (grudgingly) acknowledge her prowess in scouting, tracking, and hunting. Coupling those skills with Encara's willingness to tackle any job, they've tasked the ranger with felling large and troublesome beasts in the past. This time is no different. A great bear spotted lurking around city limits of late has already claimed the lives of several woodsmen and hunters - friends of the recently-deceased want their comrades avenged and since they're paying in gold for blood, Encara is happy to lend a hand. She's tussled with the bear once before and, knowing it's likely to be in the area, her movements are careful and silent as she slips through the trees, sharp red eyes searching the forest for any signs of the creature. Even if she wasn't being paid for this, her mind has long been made up - no matter what, she will find and destroy the enormous beast that almost took her arm. The snow is scanned for tracks, and it's as she's bent down in the shadow of a massive oak that something prompts Encara to look up and across the small clearing she's come to, where she spots… oh. She's heard plenty of giants in the tavern joke about trees shaped like -this- or -that-, but this is definitely more than just a… well-shaped tree. "Uh." Momentarily stunned into silence — a rarity, for sure — Encara quickly blinks the surprise away and adopts a scowl as she steps out from behind her cover, glancing around her. "What are you, bait?"

Oline's silver gaze shifted from where they'd been lingering for far to long on the horizon and slowly scanned their way across the forest until they settled upon the source of the voice. She didn't quite know what to make of the cloaked figure she found standing across the clearing. Not quite a woodsman... not quite a hunter... but also not entirely unlike the rangers she'd met during her time in the forests of Sage. The giantess' rounded cheeks registered no change in expression as the inner gears of her mind worked, processing the question slowly and formulating a reply. What she came up with, in the end, was a faint smile and a shrug. "Ah'm huntin' a bear..." she stated matter-of-factly. "... a big'gin. Ah'm gawnna meck a new cloak owd've it." How she intended to accomplish this stark naked and unarmed were questions that would, for the time being anyway, go unanswered. "Yer a lawng way frum ennypless nahss'n warm, smawl folk. Y'shoore y'er bunnl't up good unuff?"

Encara has seen plenty of unusual things in her time, most of them in the Underdark. She's hardly a stranger to nudity either, what with drow women and their fondness for displaying skin - it's more the size and the locale that surprise her. How the hell has she not frozen to death yet? Making a conscious effort not to look like she's staring and give the giantess any ideas, Encara takes a couple of steps closer while yanking back her hood, eyes narrowing a touch at the glare given off by the snow. "The bear is mine," the ranger snaps, though it's somehow half-hearted. She seems annoyed that someone else might be tracking her quarry, but more than that, there's a thoughtful air about her. Then she offers, "Though I suppose we could share. It's big enough, after all." And if the giantess only wants a cloak out of it, Encara can keep the gold for herself. Oline gets an unimpressed roll of the eyes at her final remark. "I might not be dumb enough to run around the woods stark naked, but I can handle the cold just fine." Even if she hates it. "How were you planning on fighting a bear like that? Are you not carrying -any- weapons? You don't -smell- like a mage," Encara continues as she circles the large woman sceptically.

Oline was normally quite a sweet, gentle thing... the barb about not being bundled up had been something of an accident. She'd not meant to say it, as such, but the suggestion that somehow she was bait had flared her adolescent temper in such a way that she'd been unable to summon the will to bite her tongue. Recognizing that this could escalate, Oline instead took a moment to focus herself and her building rage upon her prey. "Ah'm th'only weppin Ah need..." the girl stated, without so much as a hint of ego or boastfulness in her voice. "Ah'm nawt bad wid'n axe 're a club, shoore... but Ah've bin fytin' bare-fist'd foh th'last six months 'ggenst thengs a helluva lawt smahtur 'n meen'r 'enna bear. Sides... firss thin' they did whenney put me in shackles wuz t'teck mah weppinz." Then she raised her hands up from behind her back, revealing the two perfectly smooth metal manacles latched onto them. Long, broken chains hung from the hoops on their underside. "Ah'm... sorreh fer bein' rude. Gawt too yoostuh hazzin' t'kill evvryun Ah meet." she added remorsefully. "Ah'm shoore yeh kemm owd'ere prippair'd. Ah wu'un mahnd a huntin' parner..."

Encara sniffs, doubt lacing the tones of her voice when she asks, "Even a bear bigger than you?" She recalls her last encounter with the beast, how its shadow had engulfed her, its great body blocking out so much blindingly blue sky as it slashed at her with claws like swords. It's a genuine monster, but that isn't going to stop Encara - the half-drow's as sure of herself as Oline is. Her arrows only need to strike true once, after all. Eyeing the giantess' shackles and the thick chains attached, Encara tilts her head and briefly wonders how the woman got herself into such a situation in the first place… but she doesn't ask, nor does she seem bothered by the prospect of fighting alongside a (naked) potential escapee. "…Just don't try to kill me, and we'll have no problems," she mutters, before lifting her gaze to meet Oline's eyes. "I am Encara Val'thyrion. And you?" Not that there's much room for the other to reply - almost as soon as the words have left her lips, the half-drow's head jerks around at the sound of a snapping branch from further up ahead, followed by a deep, animalistic huffing of air. Encara twitches at the bear's low growl, its dark bulk emerging from the icy mist a short distance away. It doesn't seem to have noticed them yet, but that's surely about to change…

Oline's pink lips had only just begun to part and form her name when the twig cracked. "Oline," she finished quickly, then hunched down into a predatory stance. "Ah'll git raht up innit's big ugly fayuss... iffin ye thenk y'kin shoot it widdowdt puttin' an arrow in me." Her words were hushed surprisingly well for a creature her size. She didn't really wait for an answer, though. The beast growled as it caught the scent of something... likely Oline, given that she did have a rather potent, earthy scent about her. "Orrite... 'ere Ah go!" she announced, loudly, before leaping out from behind the tree and into the clearing directly in the massive bear's line of sight. She let loose a bestial warcry before charging headlong at the mammoth creature and plowing into it with her shoulder as it went to pop up onto its hind legs and let out a roar which shook the ice and snow from nearly every tree in the forest. Oline recoiled, and the bear nearly went over backwards... until suddenly it came back with a great big clawed paw and slammed it into the side of the giantess' head with enough force to send her reeling into an old frosty birch, shattering it at the trunk. Oline sat there, stunned, as the bear came back down onto all fours and lumbered closer making that monstrous bear-noise like bears do. The enormous bleeding gash it'd opened across her chest as it's claws had come down looked quite red and painful.

Encara snorts under her breath, though it isn't with amusement. "If I was going to put an arrow in you, I'd have done it before now." That said, she's quick to move as soon as Oline does, strafing off to the left in an attempt to circle round the back of the great beast while her new comrade draws its focus in a headlong rush. The creature is easily twelve feet tall when standing on its hind legs and built like a living battering ram, having spent the past few weeks dining on Frostmaw's citizens - to be honest, it looks like it eats -other- bears. With the way Oline slams into the bear, Encara almost believes her to have bested it, but then lets out a sharp curse when the monster recovers and hits back, hard. It's quite a sight to watch a frost giant be sent stumbling like that, but the ranger doesn't waste a moment to take it in. "Oline!" In a flash, an arrow is drawn from the quiver at her hip and nocked to the bowstring, a half-second taken to aim it at the bear's head as it advances upon the downed giantess before she lets the projectile fly. To her fury, the arrow snaps like a twig when it hits the side of the bear's face, but it's effective enough to catch the attention of the beast and it turns away from Oline, giving the woman a brief reprieve while it charges Encara instead. The half-drow's prepared for the advance, however, bow drawn and another arrow aimed. She whispers a series of words, a short incantation, and the arrow's tip ignites with a simple, fiery enchantment - Encara leaps backward while firing at the bear's face again, putting herself out of immediate danger and allowing the resulting shockwave from the explosive blast to send her back further. Unfortunately, the flames don't seem to have done a whole lot of damage, and the bear looks more angry than ever as it bursts out of the smoke, singed but intact with spittle flying from its wide open jaws as it bellows a deafening roar.

Oline must have gotten up somewhere in the flurry of whipping snow accompanied by the bear's charge, because one moment she was on the ground bleeding profusely and the next she came barreling into the side of the bear as if the mountain itself had come crashing down. All of her considerable weight rammed full-tilt into the broadside of the bear, surely enough to knock it off it's feet and send it on a new devastating course through the ice-coated trees all around. Oline, eyes narrowed and all the joviality and gentleness gone from her face, looked little more than a wild animal herself as she screamed in some foreign language at the beast. She thumped her bare chest with her fist, hand coming away bloody, and hurled herself at the bear again. This time, she grappled it. Her surprisingly-strong arms seeking out it's neck, yanking it this way and that as it flailed angrily against her. Oline didn't look like a big, hulking brute... but she was certainly giving the bear a run for it's money. Frothing at the mouth, it gnashed at her face more than once, even caught her in the cheek, but it just couldn't seem to wrestle itself free of her grip as she tightened harder. It became obvious after almost a minute of this that neither she nor the bear were going to break this deadlock. At least not until Oline's bloodrage cooled.

Encara might be tall for one of her own kind, but in this battle of titans she's feeling comparatively small, her bones delicate and her body breakable. Luckily, she's still a quick and canny enough thing that she's able to dodge out of the bear's path, though Oline is also a welcome sight right at that moment. As the two wrestle for dominance, feet making deep troughs in the snow, Encara weaves into the fray around their legs, spinning with bow in hand - the long, vicious blades embedded in each limb slice through the fur and flesh of the bear's right leg, prompting a howl of pain and another nasty bite at Oline's face. Encara follows up with a daring leap onto the creature's body, a dagger driven into its back serving as a makeshift grip so she can pull herself up - she's on the bear's shoulder and reaching for another arrow to shoot into its skull when the beast jerks back, head-butting the ranger and sending her tumbling, winded, back to the ground. She twists her body in a desperate attempt to land on her feet but even from such a height, there isn't enough time, and Encara lets out a hiss as she comes down badly on one ankle and sprains it. Above, Oline and the bear are still wrestling, so the half-drow scrambles and limps to the side before one of them manages to step on her.

Oline's bloodlust is potent, but it burns hot and fast... and this fight is taking much too long for her to last on pure rage alone. Summoning all of the strength she can manage, Oline braces her legs and uses her arm-grip around the bear's neck to fling it off into a dip in the forest. Falling back, she risks a moment to kneel down and check on Encara's well being before their monstrous quarry has an opportunity to recover. "Are yeh orrite?" she grunts tiredly, a hand held to her bloodied breast. It does nothing to stop the blood puddling out between her fingers. "Ah cu'und gidda grip onnit... bastuh'ds helluva strong'n. Fytes lahk'a demon, idduz." She offered a hand up to Encara, if she needed it, and shook her head. "Yeh still good fer th'fyte... 're d'yeh thenk we owtuh regroup 'n try aggen lay-tuh?"

Encara huffs a breath, momentarily forgetting to disguise her admiration as Oline practically tosses the bear away from them. She hears it land, feels the ground quake beneath her unsteady feet, and that's all she needs for the anger to return at full force. The half-drow snarls as she tests her ankle, finding it too weak to take her weight, but gives Oline a curt nod. "I'm fine, but I can't manoeuvre like this," she replies with a gesture to her leg. The very thought of fleeing is enough to make her blood boil, but Encara knows when it's foolish to continue fighting a losing battle. "I can't take a hit like you - we should fall back for now." Her eyes linger on the giantess' own wounds before she nods again, decisively. The bear is grunting in the background, already beginning to recover. "Let's get out of here." It almost hurts to say the words, but Encara knows this is not over - it won't be until that monster is lying dead at her feet.

Oline nodded in agreement, scooping up a big handful of snow and pressing it to her wound. "Raht... th'fuggen theng en't herd th'lastuv us, tho!" she snarled over her shoulder in the bears direction, then stood and started to move off. She paused a few steps later to turn and check on whether or not Encara could keep up. She didn't imagine that the stand-offish ranger would appreciate being offered a piggy-back ride... but if the need were apparent, she also wasn't going to hesitate to simply pick her up and make a full-on sprint. Angry bears were a lot like angry berserkers... surprisingly fast. At a full sprint, a normal-sized bear could outrun most land-based predators. A colossal bear capable of feeding upon the giants of Frostmaw? Oline didn't even know where to begin assessing the dangers of that.

The Frosty Herb and Armor

Encara would normally respond with brutal violence to being grabbed in any form, let alone picked up entirely. However, with her ankle slowing her down and the bear starting to find its feet again, she's forced to swallow her pride and allow the giantess to carry her away from the scene when it becomes obvious she won't be able to match Oline's pace on her own. Rather than be manhandled like baggage or held against a bleeding, naked breast, the ranger convinces (half-threatens) Oline to let her ride on her shoulder instead - from her perch, she keeps a sharp eye out behind them as they race back to the city, but the bear does not follow. The pair attract a good bit of attention as they make their way through Frostmaw's streets, though Encara's certain it's less to do with her hitching a ride and more to do with Oline's complete lack of attire. She slides back to the ground when they arrive at the healing tent - the shaman, Eleenin, gives her a tired look when she enters that gets a bemused frown in response, while an assistant quickly comes rushing out from the back room with an armful of blankets and fresh clothing for Oline to cover herself with. "I'm fine, tend to her," Encara grumbles to the healer, leaning against the counter in an effort to hide her sprain.

Oline's bleeding had stopped by the time the ice melted away, leaving a rather red and irritable-looking proto-scab in its wake. To the blankets being offered the young giantess would shrug, taking only one and wrapping it around her shoulders like a cloak. "Ah'll be fyuhn too..." she grunted softly, more from exertion than annoyance. When the assistant gives her a confused look at the refusal of the clothing, she gestures to the myriad of scars covering her body and gives him... or was it her?... a broad grin. "D'yeh rilla thenk Ah gawt ennyuv theez widdow't d'stroyin' whuddevuh Ah wuz wearin'?" she asked mirthfully, the chuckle in her voice even if she couldn't quite get up the air to force it out properly. "B'sahds... how'dyeh evvuh git tuffin'd up t'tha elemenz iffin' y'ent nevvuh s'pozed t'wem. En't no wunduh th'Gyunts o'Frostylend en't gawt no Buzzerkuhs lahk me. They gawt'a stay ull toasty-waruhm inney'z frocks' 'n shet." Oline's silvery gaze took a moment to appraise the shop, then slid back to Encara as she considered the ranger once more. "Ah'd pick Mizz En-kahrruh 'ere affore enny've em."

Encara can't help a slightly skewed grin upon catching sight of the assistant's expression, which is equal parts befuddlement and awe, when Oline refuses the offered clothing - the woman quickly retreats into the back of the clinic with only a glance and raised eyebrows towards her boss, while Encara barks a short, coarse laugh. "This is your normal look, then? Naked?" She shakes her head almost in disbelief, but she partly understands the reason for it; the necessity for freedom of movement in battle is something the drow learn well, for those who don't are soon killed. Meeting Oline's gaze, Encara purses her lips at the giantess' comment. "Just Encara is fine. You don't like clothes, I don't like being called 'miss,'" the half-drow snorts, but she seems quite pleased by the sentiment behind the words, all the same. Eleenin interrupts with a cough and a pointed look that the ranger wishes she could ignore, but she knows he'll just keep pestering her. "Sprained my ankle, that's -it-. If you want to stick a leaf on it for good measure, fine, but I don't -need- any treatment."

Meilani would be asleep in one of many beds within the tent, placed next to a window. She was laying face down, completely nude beneath the thin sheet which allows the death singer's curves to be seen. She awakens her the voices of other, but is intoxicated by the herbs given to her to ease the pain, and her sight is somewhat blurry. "New people, it was getting boring here." She utters in her hot blooded accent, groaning as she twist her body some, reaching a hand over to reach for her wounded rear. "I hope that doesn't scar too bad."

Oline's words came out harsh, but it was easy to tell from her expression it was meant in jest as she asked, "Aye, iddiz. Yeh gawt a prollum widd'at? Dun tell meh y'ent evvuh sennuh nekkid laydee afore. Emm'Ah gawnna hafta worreh bowdt yeh starin'ad m'ahss neckstahm we go affuh tha bear?" Just in case it wasn't obvious by her smirk, the chortle of laughter to follow hopefully conveyed humor. "Enkahrruh... gawtcha. Ah'm juss Oline... yer juss Enkahrruh. S'eezy enuff t'remembuh." Her eyes trailed down to the half-drow's ankle, a sigh forming upon her lips. "Juss pudd'a liddul snow onnit... s'good'z new." That, it seemed, was the giantess' solution to everything. She might have even offered some other less-than-helpful advice if it weren't for the sudden outburst from a nearby patient. "S'nawt rilla th'kinna pless wun gows t'be ennuhtayn'd, izzit?"

Encara, at Eleenin's insistence, grumpily limps after the healer to a vacant chair and sinks down into it. Leaning her bow against a shelf and making sure to keep the weapon close, she allows the man to do what he can for her injury, if only because she'd like to be back on her feet as soon as possible. Sitting still like this without the full use of her legs— it makes her feel uncomfortable, vulnerable even. Eyebrows raised at Oline, the half-drow says, "I've seen plenty, believe me. It's not my fault you're so damn big though." A faint grin curves the corners of her lips, the words meant in jest, before she tilts her head in the direction of a new voice. She has to crane her neck a bit to see over Eleenin's shoulder, but there's a spark of amusement in Encara's eye when she spots the high elf in the nearby bed. "What happened to you?" she calls, brows going up again when the woman shifts her body and almost exposes her chest in the process. To Oline's remark she offers a shrug and a whispered, "I'm entertained, at least."

Meilani being in a daze, she cracks a grin to Oline's speaking, barely able to understand, if at all. She bursts into laugher as she raises her left leg. The sharp intense pain puts an end to the death singer's laughter with a short scream of agony. Dropping her face to her pillow, she shouts into it, muffling the sound. Laying with all limbs laying lifelessly to the bed, she turns her head to face the other's, lifting her eyes to find Encara. "I fell and a spike went through my butt." She laughs at her situation loudly, lazily lifting her arm to the small table beside her bed to a tea of herbs given to her by the healers. "You should really try the tea here, it's AMAZING!" She chuckles while taking a small sip before her head flops to the pillow once more. "What you here for?"

Oline failed to completely stifle a giggle at Encara's comment. She could't quite put her finger on why, but she found herself rather fond of the ascerbic half-drow. It was a fondness she couldn't entirely chalk up to the shared hunt... but it was something, and it was nagging at her from the back of her mind. A memory, perhaps... one of the ones she'd blocked out, lest her rage become an uncontrollable tempest. Yes, she thought, perhaps that was it. Encara reminded her of someone she'd known, if only for a brief time. Most acquaintenceships in the arena were brief. She was content to remain quiet and pensive, now... restraining her thoughts... reeling in her anger. It had taken lots of practice to control her rage once she'd re-attained her freedom. Times like these, small moments of levity and amusement, were cherished for their calming influence on the maelstrom of her mind. "Tha' sownz lahk it'd 'urt..." she mused under her breath, remembering the elfish woman's momentary (and highly rude) appearance at the tavern not too long ago. "... koodn'ta appen't ta uh nahss'uh purssin, huh?"

Encara might've felt sympathy for Meilani if they knew one another better, but as it stands, she finds herself rather ambivalent about the woman's pain. She's not quite enjoying it, as some of her kind might — an elf's cries of suffering are music to a drow's ears, and all that — but the ranger almost feels a little bad for her, too. "I guess I'll spare you an arrow through it as well," she answers with a teasing wink, remembering her own threats in the tavern the other day. Ignoring the comment about the tea, Encara goes on to explain, with a gesture of the hand to Oline, "We were hunting a great bear. I landed badly and sprained my ankle, but that's it - the bastard's worse off than we are. He'll be limping for the rest of his life… which won't be long." One of the healer's assistants appears to take the high elf's hint and offers Encara and Oline a cup of herbal tea each, to which Encara, with a wary glance across at Meilani's current addled state, declines stiffly, "No offence, but I'd rather die."

Meilani bursts into laughter as Oline speak, pointing a shaky and wobbly finger to the giantess. "I need a translator to speak to you." She jests as the arm flops to the bed. Encara draws the high elf's attention and a frown. Lifting herself some she tries to focus her vision, narrowing the blurry shapes of the the drow into one solid being for a moment or two. "The mud elf!?" She flops her head once more. "Oh the irony." She laughs. "Unlike your bear, I won't be limping for the rest of my life. It's my butt that's hurt, not my leg." With the pain revealing tea of herb begins to kick in, the death singer turns to reach to her rear with her hand, grapping her injuried cheek with a firm squeeze. "Good thing my butt's big, only got the meat." With half closed eyes, Meilani sits up on her stomach some, wrapping some of the sheet to her front to hide melon size breasts. "I've broken many of bones in my dance lessons. Even performed with a broken ankle."

Encara fights the pressing urge to roll her eyes. "-Encara-. 'Mud elf' is getting old." After a thoughtful moment, she snatches the tea from out of the assistant's hands and gets to her feet, bow slung over her back and cup held carefully. Limping over to Meilani's bedside, the grumpy half-drow deposits the fresh herbal drink on the woman's table while giving her a vague look. "Lying around like that doesn't suit you, though I suppose it explains your ass." Her gaze drifts briefly down to said big butt, before Encara turns away and heads for the exit as steadily as she can, calling back to Meilani, "Can't say you didn't deserve it, but get better soon, elf." Passing Oline as she leaves, the drow offers a wave and, "We'll hunt him again soon. This time he won't leave alive." Then she's gone, ducking out of the tent into the snow.