The huge scaled beast roars and hisses and snaps its teeth as Aarnr and Fergus charge towards it.  The caravan drivers mostly scatter into the woods, though one decides to try to control the panic-stricken horses...

Erista, quite sensibly, turns to run, dodges frantically as she notices a rearing horse directly in her path, trips over a root, and ends up sprawled in the dirt as one of the drivers (possibly called Jed) grabs the animal's reins.  He manages to yank the horses head to one side, and the plunging hooves miss Erista by a couple of feet... 

Reaching the dragon, Aarnr slashes at it furiously with his massive sword, only to see the creature rear back, and the heavy blade misses narrowly, to cut nothing but air.  Fergus has no more success, as his scythe sweeps in a wide arc which fails to connect with anything solid.

Behind them, Ozzy's voice fills the air with song, and his companions (as well as Honil's men) start to feel their spirits lift as the music starts to fill their hearts and minds with courage.

Colwyn grins, and yells exultantly as he sends an arrow over Fergus' head, and deep into the monster's neck, eliciting a hiss of anger and pain.  A moment later, a bolt from Bilfro's crossbow, launched from his solitary redoubt, embeds itself in the things shoulder, with a similar effect on its temper.

The massive jaws lunge forward, gaping wide, then snapping closed inches from Fergus' face as the big farmer leans back to avoid them.  Then the barbed tail lashes out, and Fergus isn't fast enough to avoid that, as it strikes his arm.  He roars in agony as the creature's venom courses through his veins.

Then he roars again, but it is not pain that makes his eyes blaze, and he ignores the blood pouring down his arm as the scythe starts to swing again...

Eilieen calls out a prayer to Zadastha, and feels the power of the Goddess flow within her, even as Honil and his remaining guards send a volley of crossbow bolts whirring towards the monstrosity which stands, like some vast, hideously squamous bird, on the road.

There is a joyous bark from behind her, and she turns to see a hound with golden fur bounding out of the forest...

OOC: Probably could have gone better.  The... er... dragon hasn't managed to kill anybody yet.  Still, I live in hope.

Unfortunately everybody gets the benefit of Ozzy's song next round.  Curses!

Combatant                Init
Erista                    23
Aarnr Foultongue          16
Fergus Andarson           15
Oswald Osbourne           14
Colwyn Akbar              14
Bilfro Gabbins            12
Wyvern                    12 (AC=17)  Okay, yes, it's a wyverine wyvern.
Eilieen                    8
Honil                      5
Caravan Guards             4

Characters' Apparent Health
Aarnr Foultongue: Good
Bilfro Gabbins:   Good
Colwyn Akbar:     Good
Eilieen:          Good
Erista:           Good
Fergus Andarson:  Severe
Oswald Osbourne:  Good

Fear, strategy, common sense.  These are words for lesser men.

The cacophony of the creature's cries, the roars from Fergus, and his own not melodious bellows, serve to drive Aarnr forward in a frenzied fashion as he stabs his sword into the belly of the beast, again with more brute force than any real accuracy.

Somehow the minute crossbow has enlarged somewhat after the incident where its equally minute quarrel met the barbed dragon.  With a steady hand like that of a victim of the shakes in a barrel rolled down a even rockier hill than in the previous post the magnificent magician replaces the quarrel and aims yet again more or less in the direction of the aforesaid beast.

That would be the dragon, not him, even if ladies of the opposite gender persuasion no doubt would profess differently.  Really.

Oh, he also let fly the quarrel.

Rolling out from under the horse's hooves, Erista comes back to her feet just in time to see the Wyvern strike Fergus.  "No!" she shouts, moving a few more steps away from the thundering horse and pulling out her sling.  She whips a stone out towards the Wyvern, but shakily, and too fast, leaving her to watch in frustration as it falls to the ground well short of her target.

Ozzy watches with the archers of the group, hammering out the chords as he builds toward the thunderous and flowing solo...

No one's gonna take me alive
 The time has come to make things right
 You and I must fight for our rights
 You and I must fight to survive

 No one's gonna take me alive
 The time has come to make things right
 You and I must fight for our rights
 You and I must fight to survive.

---

COURAGE +1 bonus. Just keep singing 'Muse / Knight of Cydonia'.

Her doggie is here, and charging into the fray.  Eilieen has other concerns.  Fergus is injured, and such spines on beasts oft carry toxins; her friend could be dying, even now.

The priestess bursts into a run, heading straight for Fergus.  And the Wyvaat.

The doggie joins her, though his target is more the beast than her ally.

OOC - Full movement to reach Fergus, not much else I can do.  Doggie will Charge attack if it can, going for the Wyvaat.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:18, Tue 21 Oct 2014.

Fergus is angry.  Well... that's probably an understatement.  Roaring fit to terrify Aarnr, he puts all of his strength and bulk behind the scythe, as he drives it in a flashing arc at the monster's scaly neck.

The impact is as loud as a falling tree...

OOC: Hit roll: 30.  Critical: 19.  Damage: 56.  Fergus banned for unnecessary roughness.

Colwyn raises his bow again and aims carefully at the dragon's head.  Then he curses, and yelps as the bow string snaps, and one end of it whips across his cheek, leaving a thin streak of red, incongruously bright against the grime.

"Nadgers!"

Ozzy's song continues to fill the air, and lend courage to his allies.

Erista quickly recovers from her near miss with the horse, and sends a sling stone flying in, approximately, the general direction of the wyvern.  But only approximately... the stone strikes the surface of the road and comes to an abrupt halt.

Colwyn prepares an arrow, and howls in pain as the bowstring breaks and opens up his cheek, while Bilfro sends a crossbow bolt thunking into the trunk of a particularly vicious looking tree...

Aarnr is, meanwhile, just getting into his stride.  He drives his heavy sword through the wyvern's scaly hide, and is rewarded by the sight and stench of the thing's foul smelling blood.  The monster staggers for an instant...

... and in that instant, Fergus, almost senseless with rage, swings his scythe.  The steel blade cuts deep, through scale and flesh and bone, and beheads the beast in a welter of vile ichor.

Silence makes every effort to descend, but is prevented from doing so by the howls and screams of the victorious Aarnr and Fergus as they continue to hack at the lifeless body of their fallen foe.  The creature's head lays on its side, some distance off, staring at the sky with one glassy eye, the other, presumably, being equally busy staring at the ground.

Eilieen and her golden dog slow down as they approach Fergus and Aarnr who, it must be said, still appear to be spoiling for a fight...

Honil relaxes, lowering his crossbow, "Stand down lads, victory is ours this day, and the beast will terrorise no more travellers on this stretch of road."  His men start to lower their own weapons, and one goes to fetch the drivers back.

OOC: Well, that escalated quickly.

"Ayup." Colwyn says, blood trickling down his face as he peers at the fallen dragon which lays, unmoving, in the middle of the road, "That were goin' better than what I were expectin'."  Then his mind adds as a caution, 'lessin' it's only playin' dead.

Though even his mind, wary and suspicious though it can be, is forced to admit that laying on the ground with your head some distance from your neck is probably taking the old "playing dead" ruse a tad too far.  Just a tad.

He drops his arrow back into the quiver and studies his bow (technically just a stick at the moment).  He has a spare bowstring somewhere, so he should be able to repair the weapon once they're moving again.

Talking of which...

Honil steps a little closer to the dragon, "We'll need to move that devil out of the road before we can continue on our way."

Eventually even Aarnr realises that the dragon has stopped moving and the rain of blows upon the beheaded corpse slowly come to a halt, leaving the priest puffing and panting amidst the gore, leaning on his bloodied blade.

Aarnr surveys the scene noting the beast's head lying a ways off and grins at Fergus.  "Thou are a feisty flirt-gill !" he congratulates his friend. "Now ... tooth or claw ?  Which do ye think will make the best trophy ?  I reckon a fobbin' tooth will do me."

After extracting a suitable fang in a manner that simultaneously brings the invention of dentistry much closer yet would terrify any potential patients, the priest will assist in dragging the body clear of the wagon-tracks, with due respect for such a might foe.

"Looks like it nicked thee," Aarnr points out to Fergus as he spots the blood pouring from his friend's wound.  "Froggin' thing missed me," he adds disappointedly.

"Nicked me?" Fergus says, curiously, and looks at his arm, where the blood still flows, "It did, didn't it?  Don't reckon it'll do it again."

His manner is strange, now that the rage is burning itself out.  He seems dazed, almost, and a little unsteady on his feet.  "Won't do it again."  He plants the butt end of the scythe in a rut, and leans on the weapon, as if it were a walking staff.

"Should make a fine scar," Aarnr agrees generously, trying not to show his jealousy.

"Here," Eilieen calls, hurrying to Fergus' side.  "Let me look at that - it could be envenomed!"  Gripping his arm, she urges him to sit while seeking out her healing kit.  "I need to look at that..."

Quickly, she begins examining the wound and applying poultices without regard for any objections Fergus might have.

The doggie remains, for the moment, sitting down beside her with its tail slapping the ground as it wags.

OOC - Using the Heal Skill to attempt to deal with any poison!  Should I roll?

Ozzy sighs. It all ended so quickly, he hadn't even had a chance to play through the thundering lute solo at the end of the song. " Wow, that went quick." he says. Upon hearing the suggestion to clear the carcass from the road, Ozzy jumps up and says, " Dibs on the tail! That poison is worth its weight in gold to the right buyer!" pulling on his gloves and yanking the dagger from his belt, he approaches the 'Wyvatt' to carve off the bulbous tail portion holding the poison gland of the monster.

"The dragon hit me with his tail." Fergus says, perhaps unnecessarily, "He won't do it again.  He's learned his lesson."  Fergus is rambling as he sits in the road and lets Eilieen treat his wound.  His reaction suggests that the wound is, indeed, filled with venom of some description.

As does the spreading patch of blackened skin.

Ozzy returns with his grisly trophy.

Meanwhile, the drivers have come back, and Honil concentrates on getting the caravan ready to move onward again.

Fergus lets out a yell of pain, as Eilieen squeezes his arm to force the poison out of the wound, then wraps it tightly with a poultice, held in place by the cleanest piece of cloth she can find.

Fergus, his face now more like its natural complexion, gets shakily to his feet...

Since he had a decisively helping hand in defeating the dragon he warned everyone about, Bilfro has somehow managed to return to his spot inside the wagon rather than underneath it, seeing as the issue he spotted earlier with the wagon is all taken care of -- all while doing up close, personal battle with a dragon as large as a three story mansion, of course.

Poison.  Something to be avoided at all cost.  Indeed, at such a cost that he has absolutely no knowledge about it whatsoever.  Safer that way, accidents do happen, after all.

Especially to him, as he is evidently cursed.  And blessed, in so many more ways, his personality included.

"Zadastha's heart," Eilieen whispers.  "That was a close one, indeed.  Fergus, if you feel anything change about this injury, for the worse, you must not be stoic about it.  This is no normal injury - there are toxins within it, and should I not have treated it properly, it could kill you.  Please, please let me know if aught goes awry."

With that, she holds her hand out over the wound and focuses her will.  "Lady of Love, grant this wounded heart a safe release from his pain," she quietly chants, the space between her palm and the wound flaring with a pinkish glow.

OOC - Cure light wounds!  Heals 4 + 5 for Eilieen's 'level' (modified for Healing Granted Power, or whatever they're called now :).

Perhaps not surprisingly, Aarnr knows a thing or two about the treatment of poisons (he does hail from a festering swamp, after all), though is surprised to learn Fergus has fallen victim to such an insidious and invidious ill.

The priest dutifully inspects Eilieen's poultice, nose wrinkling in disgust that it is not nearly smelly enough, but since he lacks the right kind of mud to improve upon that, contents himself with echoing her kind warning, less kindly.

"I'll froggin' kill ye if thou die, thou barnacle !"

The wounded Fergus, seeming a little better now, is helped into the cart, where he is instructed to rest for a while.  This situation, naturally, leaving Aarnr to drive the vehicle.

The dead monster moved from the road, and it's tail and head safely in the cart with Fergus, the highway is clear for traffic once more.  There is a brief surge of activity, and the caravan sets forth again, making its way eastward while the sun slides down the sky to the west.

Eventually, in the last glow of twilight, the caravan emerges from the forest to find a great wall, topped with torches, just ahead.  The road runs directly towards it, and through a large gate, which stands open (though guarded).  Beyond the wall, buildings can be seen reaching up towards the darkening sky.

The evening air carries the cries of hawkers and street vendors over the wall, along with the all the other sounds of a populous city.

The caravan moves on, past the wall, and in to Bard's Gate.

Honil waits as the caravan passes within and asks the party, "Is there anything you need help with?  I can direct you to a reputable inn, or to merchants that I know to be reasonably honest."
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:41, Sun 02 Nov 2014.

Hooray!  A city!

A real, honest to goodness city, with clothiers, inns, and possibly baths!  Good ones!  And food, oh, variety in the food.  Eilieen draws in a deep breath, ignoring the scent of dung in favor of savouring the aromas rising from some of the vending carts.

Possibly best not to look too closely at what they're cooking, but the smells...!

"Both would be appreciated, Sir Honil," she eagerly replies.  "It would be nice to have some word of where we might safely spend some of our hard-earned, hard-won coin."

The business of haggling and dickering, Aarnr will leave to those best suited for such endeavours, and while safe is a relative term, around the barbarian and soft beds and perfumed baths are for fops and dandies, the prospect of food and drink is very appealing.

These city guards seem fat and lazy - how else to explain the lack of challenge as he passed their gates ?  Though perhaps the severed head and tail of the dragon upon the cart has them quaking in their shiny boots ?!!  Bah !  Aarnr dismisses them from his considerations - such men are not worth killing.

Ozzy asks Honil, " Would you know a nice apothecary I could visit?" he holds his grisly wrapped trophy of the wveryn's tail like a small baby in his arms, doing his best to avoid the nasty black poison already staining the sack. " You want for anything bro?" Ozzy asks Aarnr, looking up at him as a little brother naturally would, " I mean, ...other than another fight?" He planned on selling the tail and buying himself a nice hot bath and a new suit of clothing. He had rinsed off the Orc stink, but it never really went away.

"Ale," Aarnr replies, his broad grins at that 'apothecary' perhaps betraying a slight misunderstanding.  The priest is vaguely aware that people have been giving him coin from the various sources from which it's been acquired, but has no concept of the value, or indeed of needing anything other than a drink.

Honil nods cheerfully at the suggestions and requests.  "The Tradeway runs along this side of the city, inside the walls.  If you follow it, which is easy enough as it is nice and broad, you'll come to a market square, of sorts.  You can't miss it, the town hall stands at the north end.  Most of the traders will likely be closing down for the day, but there are a couple of decent inns around the square.  An apothecary too, as I recall, and that might still be open."

"I would suggest that you stay at The Full Moons tonight, and deal with the traders when they reopen for business in the morning.  Most of the trade establishments are honest enough, and the city watch keep them that way.  The same goes for the market traders.  Street vendors... well, those you take your chances with."

Standing a little way off from Honil, Colwyn sniffs at the air and smiles at the scents of the city.  Bard's Gate.  Famed far and wide for its cosmopolitan ways (though he has to say that being "cosmopolitan" doesn't make the air smell much better than any other city).

Still, it's a city.  He feels right at home already...