RP:The Fall of Iverfin
Part of the What Lurks Beneath Arc
Characters: Aidan, Iverfin, Ayras
Location: Shallow Cave; Frostmaw
The cave is small but secure as no wind or snow seems to drift into the sheltered area. You can see various bones and half eaten frozen limbs of different animals and creatures littering the cave floor. Clearly this cave does not only serve one creature but many in a time of need, when the winds become too strong, or simply when one is in need of a rest.
There, within this wee cave - or, at least, tiny compared to other dens scattered about Frostmaw's wilderness - is a great rift in the ground, the ground no longer littered with remains of past meals, and possibly not even a preferred habitat for creatures seeking shelter. Instead it seems to be the perch for a red-haired, metal-winged man, a man pacing back and forth quite agitatedly. "For the love of the gods," he growls, his hands curling into clawed fury, his arms bowing back as though ready to strike. "Why the hell did she go down there? Old gits never listen." Further down the rift, if one looks very closely, another red-haired figure can be seen crawling along the stone walls, descending down to a glowing, open expanse. Even from way down there she can hear the punch reverberate off the stone, and it brings a bit of a smirk to her lips. "He never did know how to check his temper," the woman chuckles to herself just before she drops out of sight, emerging from the rift into quite the underground space. She can just make out some sort of little creatures crawling about, certainly reptilian but...with six legs? They seem benign enough as they wander about, a few snacking on a sort of glowing fungus. So far, so good. No sign of those cannibalistic creatures Mr. Anxious up there mentioned.
Iverfin had heard whispers of some kind of creature in Frostmaw, and her curiosity really did get the better of her~! The elf had came near this spot with her leader before, but had never ventured into it. But the place gave her the creeps then and it gives her the creeps now. Voices are overheard, causing her to raise her cowl and step into the cave more cautiously - bow held at the ready with an arrow loosely notched in the event of a predator being present. But it just appeared to be some kind of anxious and irritable man and some other person, who dropped just out of sight there. She'd observe for a few more moments~!
Curses flow so fluently from the lingerer as to almost sound elegant. It probably helps that every single curse is in Elvish. What -doesn't- sound elegant in Elvish? "Damnit, woman, get back up here," the man grumbles, not at all willing to shout down to the woman he can no longer see. "They're down there, for-" quite the loud, bellowing roar covers the rest of what's being said, and incidentally, that very roar seems to set the redhead at ease. "Oh good. Big Daddy's awake. Maybe he's snacking on a few of those creepy bastards." Down below, however, the other redhead is not overly fond of hearing such a sound, especially not while underground. "The hell? There's -dragons- down here? He didn't say a damned thing about dragons." Forward she creeps, hoping to whatever god is eavesdropping on her mind that the source of the roar doesn't show itself. Forward through the murk of the fungal growth she goes, slowly, cautiously, eyes constantly darting about for signs of the city Ayras mentioned. Wait, what was that sound? She strains her ears trying to hear it, but it died off. Wait! There! A scream, far off in the distance. Is someone else in trouble? The rogue finds herself grinning. Someone in trouble means someone to loot.
Iverfin withdrew the arrow, placing it back into the quiver. The guy didn't seem to be doing anything that deserved a threatening pose at the moment~! But at the scream, she felt her more noble sensibilities get the better of her. Someone was in trouble. Maybe a damsel. A damsel who would totally kiss whoever rescued her~! Okay, noble sensibilities didn't last too long, but they were sort of there. With that, she cleared her throat - anticipating Ayras would turn to look at her - and gesture to the gaping hole; obviously trying to ask what was down there...
While Aidan continues towards the direction of the scream, and hopefully the sunken city, Ayras does, indeed, spin about at the sound of the cleared throat. The asking gesture causes him to loft an incredulous brow, even going so far as to snort. "Trust me, you don't want to go down there." Silver eyes go back to the great rift, a frown on his face. "I wish she would get her ass back up here. Gods damn it all, I do -not- want to go back down there." But the rogue doesn't come back up. Indeed, after another round of screams and a handful of minutes, Ayras throws up his hands and looks back at the mute woman. "Oi, if I don't come back up within an hour, run yeah? Who knows what will come up instead." And so down the hole he goes, wings spreading to allow him to hover, electricity crackling all the while. He'll have to remember not to fly down in this pit if he can avoid it.
Iverfin was simply made even more curious by such a cryptic comment~! Okay, it wasn't too cryptic but it was still a little mysterious. Like women. Or mysterious people. The elf waited for a few minutes, before deciding it would probably be pretty interesting to go exploring with them~! The elf adjusted her gloves, beginning to scale down the rift carefully. The spider-grip gloves kept her attached to the wall without fear of falling. She scaled down slowly, noticing a distinct stench seemed to permeate the air as she delved deeper. It smelt like death. And poop. But mostly death~!
Poop indeed. "Yuck." Of all the places to land, Ayras managed to land in a six-legged lizard crap pile. "Now I really will never forgive this woman," he grumbles as he uses one of the luminescent fungi as a cleaning tool. While Ayras is busy with his boot, Aidan's managed to reach the edge of the ancient city, and like any true rogue her eyes light up at the sight of such a wealth of potential treasure. "Oh-ho-ho, no wonder he didn't want me coming down here! He just wanted all this to himself!" Poor, poor ignorant Aidan. She just doesn't know. Perhaps by coincidence, perhaps by some sort of design, as soon as Aidan sets foot on the streets of Durgoth there comes another round of screams...no, not screams. Screeches. That puts a hesitance in the rogue's steps, her face scrunching a bit as she starts to ponder the truth of Ayras' warning. Of course, if she hadn't started getting lost in her own mind, she might have noticed the shadows flitting by around her.
Iverfin, unlike Ayras, noticed the pile of poop. She wasn't too far from the bottom at this point. The elf brought her knees up a little bit before propelling herself right off the wall and to the other side, gloved fingers gripping onto the wall as she regained her balance. The elf then dropped with relative quiet to the ground, eyeing Ayras for a moment. Those sounds... The sounds didn't sound like a scream. It wasn't something in distress, at least. The elf slowly removed a Son - singing so quietly upon release - as she made her way further in to the abandoned city. Unlike Aidan, she was a little more proficient in spotting those movements... Those shadows flickering and moving. She certainly couldn't determine what it was, whether it was her imagination or not. But she was getting the feeling that something wasn't right here...
A screech sounds much closer than the previous ones, Ayras' head snapping up as the horrific sound he's been surrounded by for months sounds off so clearly. "Son of a whore," he curses, foregoing the cleaning of his boot to head towards the city. He doesn't bother with his weapon, not yet. It will make far too much noise as it extracts itself. He does, however, adopt a stance far easier to launch into an attack from. Closer...just a bit closer and he'll be able to swoop in and get Aidan the hell out of there. But no, it's too late. "SKREEEEEEEEE!" It reverberates off the buildings, off the walls of the cavern, even off Ayras' own metal appendages. It's a sound Aidan is not soon to forget when she looks up to spot the source, a disgusting, twisted creature with wings that can only be described as gimpy. Another calls out behind the rogue, setting the vampire a-twirling around to find another pair behind her. More and more sound off, some farther away, some far too close for comfort. Crap. She should have listened to Ayras. Maybe he's right. Maybe old people -don't- listen. Ever.
Iverfin's tapered ears twitched at the sound, wondering what sort of creature could even create such a sound~! The elf already had one Son withdrawn, so she was combat ready. But Aidan appeared to be... Well, in a bad position. There were two behind her and more around the city - how many were there~? How many still lurked in the shadows, unseen and waiting in silence for the wrong step? Iverfin knew she could not simply stand aside and watch the situation unfold. Battle called to her: the yearning to spill blood screamed within her. The elf took a quick step forward, a flick of the wrist to send the Son into the neck of the nearest creature, while her hand reached for the base of the neck of the other one - blade that was hidden in her vambrace ejecting and crushing into the grey matter hidden in the skull. But there were more, so many more - she could hear it, all sounding off to say 'I'm here, I'm over there, we're coming for you - we're coming for you, dinner'. She could hold her own, she thought. So the elf speedily undid the other vambrace on her wrist and tossed it Aidan's way. Once tossed, she withdrew the second Son and gave them a threatening little twirl.
Aidan has the ability to do with her eyes what the...things can only do with their ears; watch Iverfin's rather spectacular and timely entrance upon the scene. It seems everyone present just stops to watch the violent burst with something akin to awe. Well, except for Ayras. He's busy trying to have panels of his arm shift silently. No such luck. Once those plates start to move the sound brings the mutants back to themselves. Screeches abound, some angry, some crying out possibly in warning, but none of them comforting to hear. The tossed vambrace is caught surprisingly deftly by the woman who just moments before had been too preoccupied to see moving shadows, the thing quickly strapped to her arm and tested. Tested on the move, too, so it takes a few tries for Aidan to get the hang of how it works. But in the end she has the blade sliding free easily enough for the time being, as well as a long, thin dagger hitherto forgotten about finally in her hand. It's a good thing she's got those weapons now, as a quintet of the strange, winged creatures assault her, clawing and tearing at her. Retaliation isn't elegant, but when three of the damnable things fall after the woman flails around she can't help but feel that it was at least effective. Ayras, for his part, finally has a rather long, yet surprisingly thin for its size, sword extracted from his arm and is wading into the melee like a man trying to hack through a tangle of vines. A few of the mutants seem to recognize his scent, because six break off from fighting Iverfin to swarm the man. That's not to say the lycanthrope is safe, however. Even as the trio began to fight other mutants arrived on the scene, and oh how they hate the scent of their own kind having been spilled. With more great shrieks they enter the fray, and skinny as they are, they are certainly hungry.
Iverfin was a lithe woman, a woman who enjoyed honing her skills of parkour whenever the chance presented itself. It made combat flexible at the best of times. That said, those creatures were hungry and Iverfin was, indeed, far from safe. The Sons were twirled in a threatening manner, before she advanced into the fray. The creatures actually had some pretty sharp claws~! Or talons. It was difficult to tell, with the strength and ferocity of those nails. The elf's eyes weren't adjusting perfectly to the dark, often one from the back swiped at her leg - causing her to awkwardly bend; twirl; turn; pivot and slide about in order to retain what fluidity she had. Eyes cast between her two fellow combatants, understanding that if she wanted to survive - working alone or losing these two, might not be to her benefit. The Sons were blackened with the blood of the mutants, the very scent of it repulsive.
Aidan is quick to bash and cut her way to Ayras, not even necessarily killing the creatures she gets past. All she cares about is having something bigger than a dagger between her and death. Ayras, however, seems to be thinking along the lines of Iverfin, his sword cutting a swathe through the birdmen to venture closer to Iverfin. They're only feet from the lycan woman when more of the damned things flood forward. The odds of survival just keep shrinking, don't they? Ayras and Aidan, they just can't make anymore headway and, indeed, get pushed back. Cuts and scrapes litter their bodies, but at least they're still standing...mostly. Ayras, having the most experience with the bastards out of the trio, certainly manages to keep his feet, but Aidan finds herself knocked to her knees more than once by the sheer strength of the things. Iverfin, though, the poor dear, she's got the worst of it. Thanks to saving Aidan's stupid self, she's facing the brunt of the attack as swarm after swarm keeps coming. Just how many mutants are in here, indeed. They don't seem to ever end. Then again, it's a city. Regardless of how many there are, the things have Ayras and Aidan drastically separated from Iverfin, and they take advantage of this by converging on Iverfin. Bashing and clawing hands keep coming in, landing minor hits, major hits, but the coup d'etat, so to speak, is a mouth that seems to come out of no where, sinking horribly gross teeth into flesh, ripping skin, meat, and blood vessels away from their host. For the pair of vampires, this comes as a huge break, the smell of blood drawing assailants away from them to get in at the meal that's sure to be provided. Ayras, strange murderer that he is, doesn't seem to like this fact very much, a bestial growl rumbling from deep in his chest as he...well...-throws- Aidan out of the fight. Literally. Up and over the heads of the birdmen, using his vampiric strength to fling her right out of the city. Where he goes after that, Aidan can't see. Probably to 'rescue' Iverfin. Sentimental git.
Iverfin tried. She really did try, but she knew a little bit into the fight that things were quickly going downhill. Ayras could not reach her - a house divided cannot stand, and this... well, this was torn apart. The elf felt teeth sink into what exposed pieces of flesh were there - the tip and lobe of an ear gone but more so, a bastard creature had the audacity to bite her throat. That was the final straw. The elf could not roar or scream out her fury, but she wanted to. She spat blood out onto her attackers, before raising her blades to swing down at two creatures at a time; leg kicking out to strike one away from her and get distance from the immediate attackers. But she knew. She knew it was a losing game - there were too many of them. Iverfin knew that time was the only issue left. And so, the words of her grandfather echoed in her mind, 'everything will be all right'. A shaky exhale was emitted, she didn't wish to admit defeat. And so... And so the rage billowed through her. Swords were dropped as the elf near exploded into this horrible hybrid of wolf and woman, blackened fingernails that worked as claws with teeth that were oversized and vicious. A look was cast to Ayras, before she cannonballed into the creatures - savage growls of her own to match theirs. The look was a simple message: go.
Something about a humanoid wolf seems to enrage these strange birdmen. Maybe it's the fact that their meal is being denied for a time longer. The screeches abound, a deafening cacophony of sound that nearly splits Ayras' head open. All of it combined is enough to get Ayras to heed Iverfin's look, the warrior backtracking and cutting through as many of the mutants as he can as he strives to get back to Aidan. "Let's get the hell out of here," he hisses in her ear when he reaches her, dragging the weaker vampire with him towards the fissure that leads out. Only a moment is spared for a lamenting glance back towards the fallen city and the woman who is surely sacrificing herself at that very moment so a pair of bloodsuckers can get out of this hellhole.
Iverfin was glad that the man left. As she clawed and chewed her way through the ravenous horde of flesh-eaters, it was possible a tear rolled down a darkened and bloodied cheek. Oh, she would never have said it but she was afraid. But dying in combat... dying in combat was something to soothe her soul. The creatures hissed as they felt the lycan weaken; her determination and grit giving out. They circled, waiting. Waiting, waiting. The food could come to them. The elf's clawed fingertips touched the gold band wrapped around her arm, gifted to her by her leader in recognition of her first duel success. The screeching rose to a victorious chorus, the she-beast chuffing as she eyed them warily. They would descend upon her at any moment. She inhaled sharply, taking a few last swings before they swarmed and overwhelmed her. Luckily - or not so luckily - the lycan meat was unpleasant to them. She would be left a torn and bloodied dead mess. But at least... preserved. Sacrifice. Her last good and selfless deed. She was certain, in her last thoughts, it would have made that certain woman proud of her.
Aidan waits at the edge of the chasm, though Ayras is happy to put as much distance between the fallen city and himself as possible the moment they're out. Aidan can't do that. Murderer she may be, both by nature and by choice, but she refuses to leave that woman's body down there. So she waits until the noise dies away, until she thinks the avians have departed, then she crawls back down the hole. Now that she knows they're there, she moves far quieter this time around, calling on her training and inherent stealth capabilities to slink from hole to city, from city edge to...scimitars. The rogue hesitates at first, but in the end she scoops the swords up, slipping them into her belt. The lycan certainly won't be using them, and at least this way the things won't waste away to time. They'll be used proper-like. On she goes again, moving as silent as a ghost to where the remains of Iverfin lay, chewed and torn, and she almost lets out a sob at the sight. At least she doesn't mutilate her marks, but then the mutants are no better than animals, she supposes. She scoops up the body, holding it together as best she can, and carries it back to the rift. Climbing back up is difficult with the body, but she manages. Once outside the mouth of the shallow cave the vampire goes about digging. With her hands no less. Screw going back to town for a shovel. As she lays the body in the hole, though, she bites her lip. All that good gear going to waste. Blast it all, she's already going to hell, anyways, why not. She strips off the useful bits, leaving behind the mundane, and only then does she continue to bury the poor lycan. She deserves that much for saving Aidan's ass. At least, she does to Aidan's mind.