RP:Static Electrocution
When
2010-1-10
Characters
Dumuzi is a Lycan and seems to be a mage.
Kain is a Dwarf and seems to be a warrior.
(old)Kaval is a Feline and seems to be a mage.
Layla is a Feline and seems to be a thief.
Mahri is a Lycan and seems to be a druid.
Reece is a Avian and seems to be a illusionist.
Area
Rolling Dunes
As the burning hot sun beats down on this blasted place the dunes seem to roll up and down making journeying through this treacherous place even harder. The banks of pure yellow sand are occasionally broken by jagged outcroppings of a rock that is a deep shade of red possibly rich in iron but it could just as easily be thick stains of spilled blood. There is absolutely no shade or water here and the air seems thin and hot making it tough for some to breathe. You can identify no signs of life now suggesting that absolutely nothing can survive in this area for long.
RP
Dumuzi was at least glad the caravan was kind enough to travel at night. It was cold. Very cold, but it was better than baking in the sun. He made sure to wrap up tightly. A tiny bundle of brown riding on a pony. It was a humiliating mount, but tame enough, that just had to ride in the vanguard of the caravan. So he was one of the first to ride over a tall dune. The gentle light of the dual moons, though both were waning, cast a long shadow over his backside. Though his figure was small, the shadow was enough to cover the eight traders and their twenty pack animals that rode behind him. They payed kindly and none had come to attack the travelers. So in whole it had been rather boring, but paying, ride. Hopefully it will stay that way.
Kain was bored. He liked seeing new places, but the terrain here was bland and boring. Sand, broken only by the occasional rock or bit of scrub. Stifling a yawn, he was beginning to wonder if this job was worthwhile. Still, things could always be worse, he reminded himself.
Kaval would tend to engage himself on scouting along the boarders of his territory, as such was true for this night. Sclera void optics narrowed as keen ear perked with alertness as soft murmurs of intruders accompanied by their wretched stench wisp past the feline. On top of a dune he gandered out into the vast desert to spy upon the group. With a low growl breaking past his cracked lips he rose to the balls of his feet and bolted forward. Winds picked up as the mage manipulated a gust to upraise a small dust storm to conceal his advance to the intruders, not taking long at all to reach the filthy beings. Upon arrival to 'greet' them, the winds dissipated and the sands settled down to present the feline before Dumuzi. Speaking quickly the feline's richly accented tongue flickered a few words of warning in a disapproving tone, "I know not vat' you er' doin' en my home, but leave vith haste less came to challenge." His words were laced in a growl, the number of people causing an unsettling feeling within him as the hair on the back of his neck rose.
Dumuzi saw the dust storm a short ways away and could not help but think of where that came from so suddenly. A blink it was at the foot of their dune, another blink it disappeared to reveal the Feline. Oh well, that was strange. Rather fast too. Even more disconcerning the cat spoke that it was his territory. It generally becomes a bad situation when someone intrudes on the land of a predator. Most certainly for Dumuzi. Cats find rabbits rather delicious after all. He was deathly afraid of Felines. So the Lycan's violent shaking in fear as he stumbled around words would not be a surprising reaction, "I...um...er, we." A tiny trembling hand points behind him to the caravan that had come to a dead stop, "Cross this sand place that we stand on here. Sand. Below. Please don't hurt us." How encouraging that must be to the merchants that had hired them. What a courageous leader.
Kain steps forward and places a reassuring hand on Dumuzi's shoulder. 'We were hired ta lead this caravan. Nobody made mention 'o crossing any private property. Seems either ya don't let people know that this is yer land, or you just recently acquired the territory and news 'o your perchance hasn't reached the proper people. Although I can't imagine why anyone'd want ta own any 'o this blasted desert."
Kaval huffed a short growl at Kain's comment, "Dis, no von comes to for I stop dem or feast. Vat vill -you- do? Insult me, den flee." Tendrils of mana began to envelope and spiral about the mage's left arm. Two slender digits curled as the mana twisted up betwixt them, emitting a soft hum and faint blue tinted glow, "I say leave now, or lose men." His tone rose threateningly as he stood his ground before the group, ready to fight if necessary.
Dumuzi had become somewhat lost in the vernacular of the two as they contested with each other. Carefully thinking so as to decode their unusual patterns. It was mildly amusing. He really didn't like those fingers though. Does it the whole situation really have to dissolve to that kind of thing? Really? Dumuzi can't bare forth his own magic that quickly so an direct preemptive attack would be foolish. No. A different approach must be taken. Carefully the little rabbit thinks. A plan. The Feline seems powerful, but more focused on Kain's sharp retort. Dumuzi was small, tiny really. People don't notice short people so much as he had long since noticed. Taking the chance he falls back behind Kain. Pony hooves in reverse. His slightly exaggerated fear subsided as the nice big man separated them. With care he keeps his voice low in chant. Subtly he gathers his power. His hands move delicately in and out of his pack pulling out precious spell components. A finger bone, crimson dust, his own blood, licks of his own lightning magics. All being consumed in a detailed ritual. One he tries very hard to keep completely focused on. So much so that his voice and power increase sending stray bolts of lightning in static shocks to his horse. It raises as he nears the end, even leaping towards Kain. He calls out to his Fey Pact. A hand of balled energy rises towards the moons. Dumuzi's Shamanistic Summoning is so close to completion. Just a few more moments and they could end this quickly.
Kain tips his head, looking puzzled, his left hand still resting on the buttplate of his sword. "I don't think I understood ya. Sounded like ya called me a coward, but I don't think yer that stupid 's ta do that. Is ya?" he asked calmly. "If'in anyone should be runnin'. it's you spell-slinger." Shrugging at the sight of the mana around the feline's hand, he chuckled, "Kinda perdy. Kin ya pull flowers outta a hat?" Then he shot his right hand forward in a quick jab toward the feline's face. "Dunt ever judge yer opponent based on their size," he adds, doing his best to ignore the occasional sparks that stung him.
Reece ghosts over the sands, passing overhead like a silent wraith on owlish wings as he watches Dumuzi begins his summoning. Quickly the avian circles back around, landing softly a little behind the brewing conflict.
Kaval loft a slender brow as the spiteful words spewed fourth from the arrogant dolt was nulled from the feline's mind as thoughts focused to the sudden consumption of energy behind the dolt. A sharp chuckle slipped past serrated fangs which bared themselves in a wicked simper. Only then did he note the the blade's tip and laugh all the more, "Vaaat?!" It was a sudden screech which mana amplified through to create a explosive force of raw energy. The unseen burst of energy would wisp through the crowd, and to touch the bare flesh it could act as if razors were being wracked against it. Deviously, the feline aimed to cause a ruckus of confusion as the mana entwined arm was thrust within the sand. Lightening would burst fourth and channel through the ground before jutting upward. It's combination of static bolts and sand resulted in shards of jagged glass to thrust skyward. The main focal point of this attack though, was directed to the hiding Dumuzi, "I varned ye' to leave..." he whispered in a humored tone, knowing the glass would impale a good number of the group which trespassed, yet he wished that small creatures to be one of them. Not only did they invade upon the feline's territory and insult him, but one actually plotted to attack. Cowards should be the first to die.
Dumuzi had spent a lot of time in his ritual. It was a powerful one. A very mana intense one. There where rewards to using Fey pact. They are high powered beings, but fickle and more importantly very dangerous. The rituals are delicate things. They are made to appease the spirits. Give them things they want, bind them to the will of the summoner, and to keep them under control. Even attempting to interrupt them could hold various dangers. Kaval had, sadly, seen through his ruse. A pity. Dumuzi was even almost finished as the tiny shards of glass burst into the crowd. Luckily the angle of the dune on top of which the three stood spared most of the traders. For the few hit, including the Lycan, there was not a large amount of damage. Cuts abound. Small, but deep, cuts on the skin and shredded clothing. The horses and mules, more than anything, being prone to fear tried to scatter as they suffered from the attack. Dumuzi himself blinked back to reality as the power of his spell faded. Blood rain down his furred cheeks staining his clothing. A deep crimson. Yet this was not the only red on the battle field. No. Dumuzi's call had been heard. It was answered. Slowly it phased into existence on at the bottom of the dune behind Kaval. A creature of nightmare summoned from the high red moon. The Lycan spoke its name as the form came into clarity, "Ber'ak." On three long appendages of bone it stood twenty feet tall, towering over the gathered. It had not head, yet was naught more than twisted spine to which the three things that might be called legs connected and deskinned ribs holding in a bleeding red glow that oozed down the legs. As the crimson liquid meet the sand it steamed. Boiling away the sand in a deadly acid. Crudely it balanced on two of the half-coated appendages as one lifted up. The bladed tip, which had been buried, now partly covered in melting sand and red acid moves in a strike that slams down on the dune where the three have started battle.
Kain rises from the ground with a crunching of glass, steam rising from his armored body. "No more mister nice Kain," he growls, half drawing his sword. Then he pauses, and rams the blade back into it's sheath. "Got a brawling competition comin' up, so maybe I'll use ya as a practice dummy instead." Glass shattered beneath his feet as he moved toward the feline, fists upraised. Figuring the spell-slinger before him was the source of the monstrosity, it seemed reasonable enough to the dwarf that pummeling the feline would remove the larger threat. But he also knew that the cat would very likely be quicker then himself, and that no mage would stand up to a fighter in a boxing style fight. No. He would have to close in and get a grip on the mage, or better yet, take the cat off of his feet. There was also the caravan to consider. Kain didn't want to see any more of them injured than nescecary (sp). "Come on, ya spell-slingin' wimp. Try 'n eat me," he taunted, then rushed forward in an attempt to either tackle or clothesline the mage.
Reece 's eyes widen in horror, barely avoiding real injury from the glass and then being beholden to the demonic hell-creature. Grabbing the reins of the first trader he can find he directs their horse back, shouting at him to lead all the men and horses which hadn't scattered away from the battle. Then, using his aching wings which until recently he couldn't have used before, he takes flight, gliding towards the creature from a safe altitude and wondering what the hell he could do to get rid of it.
Kaval cast a backwards glance towards the colossal beast which came into this realm of existence. He felt it's energy, the abomination tainting the air and poisoning the sand which belong to the feline. There was further no time to dilly dally about with that creature upon his land. Part of him wondered, if for a split moment, why these barbarians came onto his home to fight. Nevertheless, with child's play over his attention averted away from the beast to the two opposing him, remembering their faces well. Quickly, digits were plucked free from their leather gauntlet sheath, baring the feline's true weapon as matter and energy contorted within itself to form a tool of sorts for the mage. Within his grasp, slender digits of constriction groped the staff of a bone constructed scythe. Shinning in the dull moonlight the black polished double edges blade shimmered before emitting a low glow about it's tip. A simper was cast towards the dolt of a dwarf before his being de-materialized. Teleportation was a simple trick any half witted mage could conduct, yet to do so with other object was the tricky part for you'd have to know it's mana's signature to break apart each particle and resemble them properly without mishap. Upon re-forming the mage might have been noted next to the beast, bare digits curled about a rib as the mana consuming properties cursing his flesh sprung into effect. To know what such an abomination was composed of brought chills up his spine as his 'tool' absorbed surrounding energy to feed into the mage. Cactus' withered and the trees about the Oasis not far began to die because of this as it's energy was reaped away so mercilessly. All this was needed though, as Kaval went to transport the beast out of his home. It would look like dissolving snow as particles were wisped away from both Kaval and the beast. Each particle though was reassembled, though a good two miles away. It might have been an act of mercy as the mage didn't need to leave the beast unharmed during the process. He simply wished it away from his home. Still a hold of his tool, he flicked his wrist and used the remaining bit of mana stored within it to return to the dune top. A weak smile graced his lips as from within his pocked a small creature was withdrawn, "Come fourth my, Cyn." The polymorph creatures seemed to melt from the mage's palm into the sand, "I vill ask ye' vonce more, to be'gone." His breath seemed short and posture showed signs of weakness. Though, the sand would quake and up rise the polymorph within the monstrous form of a sand wyrm. Perhaps they would leave now.
Dumuzi was slumped over on his pony. The beast stirred and he saw Ber'ak forcefully removed from battle. All that for nothing. Weakness his all he felt now as he saw it happen through half closed eyes. Those moons, in their waning, weakened him leaving him with almost naught to work with after that summoning. Dumuzi slowly drifts into unconsciousness. This sight of laziness is not overlooked by the leader of the caravan. He was a bit of a pudgy, dark skinned man in off-white robes and a dusty turban. With swift words he apologies to Kaval. By now his workers had tamed the camels and mules so he set a new route. Far away from the insane Feline. The Northern pass. Not a safe place to roam, but thieves are easier to deal with than magic users.
Kain glanced over at the caravan leader and nodded. Turning back to the mage, he lowered his fists. "We didn't come here to fight, mage. Later." Turning once again, he crunched his way through the broken glass to rejoin the caravan. "Ya okay?" he asked Dumuzi. Then Bad Attitude woke fully and began trying to claw it's way out of Kain's pack. releasing the wolverine, he sighed with relief seeing that he wasn't hurt. Kain had been worried that B. A. had been hurt or killed in the battle, and was glad to see the wolverine without so much as a scratch, as it trotted along beside him.
Layla (having found the desert for the first time ever previously in the day) woke up with a start. She had found the desert closer to nightfall, and decided to take a nap in the nice warm sands. However, the nap had turned into more of a slumber. And now, she awoke with a slight shiver. Where was she? Looking all around, the twelve year old studied her surroundings and found.... Sand. Just sand. And lots of it. Where had her foot prints gone? The plan had been to follow the footprints back to the edge of the desert, but she could see them no where. Mewing quietly, the kitten-child stood up and shook the sand from her clothes. Another small mew was given as she pondered what to do, and without any real idea of where she was, she began walking. Some hour or so later, she thought she spotted something off in the distance. People perhaps, though it was hard to tell from how far away they were. Being lost in the desert only left her with one option, and that was to approach the distance group seeking help. Layla could only hope they were not a malicious group.
Dumuzi slept peacefully under the watchful eye of the caravan leader who was ready to rip him a new one the second he woke up. Time past and the stars turned as they carried on, but not before long. Those with sharper eyes saw the dot of the lost little Feline. In their minds it was a raider scout. They liked to do that kind of thing. Send the smallest and weakest to scout before striking. It was almost verified as one after another more dots appeared on the edge of the sandy world, but for some reason they were approaching from a different direction. Trickery indeed. The situation tensions as an attack is expected at any moment.
Dumuzi :: Yellow eyes looked from under a black turban. They looked greedly at the fat, rich caravan that seems to so willingly walk into their trap. He was just a Lieutenant to the leader. Nothing special. Yet his saw them first and came up with the plan. What an ingenious plan it was too! Oh his family was going to eat all this month. In merriment he watched the vanguard of the traders, of which was one rather nasty looking Dwarven Warrior, ride right over his trap. The first part was sprung. Those first few crossed an invisible line where it was no longer solid sand, but was in actuality a liquidy mush that sank the hooves and legs of their horses quickly downwards. Threatening to trap them in a suffocating tomb of sand. As the animals set off sounds of alarm the second part was launched. Hidden just below the surface of the sands where a half-dozen men. Like the rising dead they popped out, grabbing traders by their legs, yanking them off horses, running them through with twisted blades, and generally springing forth to set off panic in the caravan.
Kain rather wished he'd been riding a horse, rather than walking, when one foot suddenly sank far deeper then it should have. Pinwheeling his arms as he flung himself backwards, to keep from becoming fully stuck in the sinking sand, he grumbled as he noted individuals popping up out of the sand and attacking the caravan. "Damn it," he exclaimed, grabbing his stuck leg and yanking up, still trying to fall backwards. "Get 'em Bad Attitude! Tear 'em up and che... Whoa!" he barks, as he suddenly frees himself and drops backwards with a clatter. "Oooh," he groans, looking up at the stars.
Mahri , being in the middle of caravan, didn't have a very good view of what was going on ahead. Glancing over her shoulder to get an idea of what was going on behind, a curse slips past when another line of raiders cuts of any possible retreat. Oh well, it's a good day to fight. Or night. The lycan's right hand slips to the dagger that's always strapped to her thigh, the silver blade glinting menacingly in the pale light of moons and stars as it's drawn and readied. A commotion grabs her attention then, when six desert-dressed men force their way towards her position. Members of the caravan find themselves pulled off horses and flung to the ground. Not her though. Horses didn't care for Mahri nor she them. As one gets too close, the leering look he gives the once-pack-alpha hints at thoughts that have nothing to do with the money to be gotten with the sale of her weapon. Silver-gray eyes meet mud-brown in open challenge. Of course, the male's too stupid to do otherwise and accepts it with a nod. His curved blade is drawn, easily three times the size of her own but she isn't the least intimidated. Crouching and balancing on the balls of her feet, the lycan prepares to earn her protection fee.
Dumuzi :: In glee the main raiders cheered. It would take the twelve of them a while to ride around the quicksand, but the treasure held by the caravan was well worth it. The Dwarf was on his back like some turtle. All that was left was that strange animal, a woman, and merchants. Easy pickings. Their cheer was echoed by the six in the middle of battle. One closer to the back slashes his saber over the flank of a trader's horse. Cold steel tears apart the horse's skin, splitting apart muscles in a spray of crimson. The leg gives way taking the owner with it. In an attempt to escape his ankle is caught on a spur. It twist him between the falling beast and the ground. An audible crunch is heard as leg and hip are crush. Still alive he can do nothing as the thief tears the gold bangles off the man's wrist the easy way, by cutting off his hand. This brigand now turns to tiny pony and the still sleeping Dumuzi near the front. His back is very close to the now upside down Kain.
Kain growls, rolling back and pumping his feet at the brigand in front of him, sending him sprawling forward into the sinking sand while Kain got to his feet and drew his sword. "It's killin' time," he roared, still pumped up from the encounter with the mage, and pissed about nearly falling into the trap. Charging forward, he slashed one open, spilling his intestines, while plowing full-tilt into another with his shoulder. Bad Attitude pounced at the wounded man, ripping and tearing his way through the spilled innards as he bit and clawed the screaming man. Kain, meanwhile, was occupied with pinning the man he tackled to the sand with his sword, before sending a gauntleted fist into the face of a third, shattering his face, and sending blood spurting. Spinning, Kain dropped a heavy elbow, as the other man tried pulling the blade from his ribs so he could get up and flee, but Kain's elbow crashing down onto his throat ended that quickly. Getting to his feet, Kain yanked the blade free in an underhand grip, stomped the dying man, then spun and snapped his blade up and out, severing the top third of the other man's head off. Flipping the blade back to an overhand grip, he flicked the blood and brain matter from the sword, as he looked for his next opponent. "Come get some,' he shouted, eyeing the group riding around the sinking sand to join the battle.
Layla studied the group carefully. Only fleeting snatches of the clamor reached her ears, but she was able to smell the blood very clearly. Nose wrinkling at the intense, copper smell she had learned to associate with blood, the child did her best to ignore the scent. Instead, her bright green eyes jumped from figure to figure. A dwarf, some severed attackers. A mutt was seemingly holding her own against one of the attacking group. Layla could only hope that the attacker would succeed. One less mutt in Hollow would be nothing but good news. And then.... There was what appeared to be a large rabbit, seemingly dead and held upon the back of the horse. No doubt, the rabbit was simply a meal in waiting. Her mouth watered at the thoughts of a prey already killed for her, and thoughts of nicking it once the fight was over began to form. But, the daunting presence of one of the larger attackers threatened her plans as he drew closer to the horse. She could not believe her eyes. Was he really planning to snatch what she was going to snatch? It couldn't be allowed. Still squatting in the sand, Layla reached her left hand over to her right arm. Tugging slightly at her sleeve, she whispers. "Wake up. I said wake up. Therre is a job to be done." Her tongue rolled over the letter 'r', producing a purr. "Come on, that's it." A shadow slinked out from up her sleeve, settling onto the sand. "Good then, now. See that nasty man overr therre? Yes that one, the extrra grross smelling one. Go and coverr his eyes so that he might be a bit blind." The silent shadow familiar began to do as it's master instructed. Speeding off across the sands in the darkness, it would aim to cloud the eyes once it reached the area.
Mahri put all else out of her mind except her present opponent. While she had readied herself, he charged with a battle cry meant to intimidate. It didn't work. She merely waited until the burly man was nearly upon her with scimitar raised and ready to knock the flat against her wrist. After all, a woman was more valuable, and entertaining, alive than she was dead. He, however, would never get the chance to find out. Quick reflexes have Mahri leaning to her left, knife hand thrust upward and twisted as soon as it sank into meaty flesh. Crimson coats her half-gloved hand as she jerks the silver blade free, allowing the swarthy fellow to fall forward. Snapping her head up and wiping the dagger clean on the leather of her pant leg, two other thugs are noted. Mostly because they hesitate to approach her. Quite suddenly, or it seems so, she darts a quick glance around in search of the odd rabbit-man who'd started this expedition..and held the purse.
Dumuzi :: The last thug found himself blind. Night's pale light stolen from him. In confusion he whips his sword around wildly hitting nothing. About he stumbles around trying to find something. The sounds of his friends being killed in battle set his imagination on fire. They where all around him! He was next! He would die without ever seeing his wife and kids again. Slowly they would die of hunger and starvation. It was then his thoughts became true. He had ventured too close to the quicksand. Although the riders had managed to escape at the cost of their horses, he had no such luck. In fear he lashes out as the quicksand takes hold of his feet causing him to fall. More and more he struggles, sinking deeper. Maddening screams. A gasp for breath becomes a mouth full of sand. Panic and fear race around his mind until nothing. The stillness of the slow suffocating death overtakes the raider.
Dumuzi covers his sensitive ears at the screams. A piercing shriek that pulls him out of dreamland. Blinking eyes reveal a world of blood and battle. What had happened here? More importantly who was being buried alive? Sharply the world started coming into focus. They had to be raiders. The party had stopped the immediate threat but more were coming. He had to do something quick. Twelve all together in close grouping. Perfect for him. Carefully he runs the flat side of a sharp crystal knife over the back of his ears all the while chanting with his squeaky little voice. Each pass of the small knife sparks more brightly, growing in power. By the tenth stroke the sparks start leaping onto his pony. It is then he pulls the crystal away, the lightning chaining between him and it like a giant spider, and aims it directly at the charging men. Thunder booms as the energy is released through the clear knife. White lightning streaks in a wide bolt straight across the quicksand to the thugs. It hits the first squarely in the chest, blasting him with pure energy and sending him flying backwards. Lightning never just hits one. Madly it chains to another and another. The energy racks through their frail bodies destroying six and wounding a seventh of the raiders before ending and plunging the briefly bright area back into darkness.
Kain waits ready as the mounted raiders close in, then leans forward, with a leg canted out at an angle behind him. "Go!" he barked. Moments later, the blood-soaked wolverine raced up his leg, across his back, and pounced from his shoulder onto the nearest raider. Grinning, Kain turned his attention to the next. Lowering his shoulder, he charged. Nearly reaching the rider, he thrust up with his blade, half a heartbeat before he plowed into the front flank to the horse. Horse, rider, and dwarf crashed to the ground in a mess of flesh and steel. Disentangling himself, he turned his full attention to the wounded rider. Using his fists, as his sword was missing at the moment, he pummeled the man's face into a bloody mush, then looked about for his weapon. Picking it up, he looked over at Bad Attitude, and said "Chow time." The wolverine instantly began eating the mortally wounded man.
Layla tilted her head to the side, her long, black curls tumbling with the action. How curious the scene was, with so many of the attackers being thwarted. They must have been weak, considering no more than a mere mutt, and a dwarf half their size, were taking them out with ease. What a shame, perhaps she could not nick that rabbit after all... As she sat musing over her loss, something rather startled her. The rabbit, it got up and moved! It did not just move, but rather, created a bunch of sparks. She missed the lightning attack, too focused on the curious creature. Sniffing the air, she attempted to get a better scent for it. The mass amount of blood from the dead and dieing clogged her nose, causing the poor child to blanch in disgust. Meanwhile, her shadow familiar disentangled itself from the bandit that it had wrapped itself about previously. The shadow darted back towards the horse and rabbitwere, where it circled about them cautiously. A few seconds, and it was darting off, retreating to it's master so that it might once more rest inside her sleeve.
Mahri isn't worried about what the dwarf is doing, though the satisfying sounds of his own battle bring a brief smile to the lycan's face. Spinning about, the sudden blinding light causes her to raise an arm to shield her eyes that brief moment it took for more to get roasted and fall. The moment she lowers that protective arm, the right is drawing back to send her only weapon sailing through the air and into the back of a charging renegade. Kain, if he notices the slowly folding body behind him, could be grateful at some point. Not that she expects it. Leaving the blade where it is, sand kicks up under her feet as she races towards the rabbit-man and his horse, the beast shying away at the predator's scent. She doesn't get far before finding herself landing rather heavily into the shifting sands, tackled from the side. Fetid breath washes across her cheek as rather..descriptive and creative words are whispered harshly into her ear. "I don' t'ink so, ye bloody pig." Wiggling an arm free, the point of her elbow somehow manages to crack a cheekbone, soon followed by a palm to the nose, sending bone and cartilage into gray-matter.
Dumuzi calmed to quick, shallow pants that racked his tiny frame. The back of his saddle served as a good place to rest allowing him to catch his breath. His magic again proved itself very potent, but at a price. At least he was feeling better than those worthless bandits that now found themselves rather dead after Kain and Mahri finished them off. They had earned their pay and mostly protected the caravan. Well save for a rider or four and some horses. However without the adventurers serving as guards they would all be dead. A fact that Dumuzi knew the trade leader would forget at the end of the journey when it came time to pay them. The fat bastard sneered as he gathered his men together to set out again and Dumuzi knew he would take every chance to wiggle out of his end of the deal, even after they saved his hide. Somehow he would squeeze enough profit out to make it worth wild. With that in mind he, after taking a moment to loot the broken bodies of the fallen raiders, took the reins of his pony and followed the caravan to the end of their trip.