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Post by DarkNova50 on Aug 11, 2009 6:45:17 GMT
Terra scowled as the blight storm set in, a maelstrom of crimson ash whipping violently around them. First Valenth, then the Mudcrab from hell, and now this; luck, in whatever form it took, didn't seem to be with the group that day. She did take some solace, however, in the fact that she'd learned a spell to cure blight diseases before leaving Cyrodiil. The spell was notably more intricate than its counterpart for standard diseases, but it was good to know that if she, or any of the others, became infected, she'd be able to cure them.
Remembering the request of the elderly Redguard, however, Terra quickly tore her attention away from the unfortunate turn in weather, and towards Majulin, sitting nearby. The Dunmer's brief comments on the attire they should all be wearing, his technical way of speaking, only further reinforced what she already knew to be true; from a purely combative standpoint, he was probably one of, if not the most, disciplined individuals there. Granted, Terra was a skilled mage, and she had no doubt her own skills would be of use to the group, but it was always useful to have a warrior around, when a bit of brute force was required.
Downing the remainder of her potion and setting the bottle gently in the sand, Terra made her way towards the Dark Elf, tugging at her skirt as ash pelted uncomfortably against her legs. That ashrobe is sounding like a good idea right about now, she thought to herself. Don't know about the armour, though.
Despite the adverse conditions around them, Terra managed a gentle smile as she sat down next to the local Redoran. "Majulin, wasn't it?" she asked politely. "I don't think we've been introduced. My name's Terra," she explained with a bit of a nod. She shot an inquisitive glance at the man's wounded leg. "Do you know how you hurt that? Did you sprain it, or did you hit something?" Though she supposed the question she was asking weren't technically necessary, Terra liked to know the nature of the injury she was trying to heal. She could have simply begun healing it right away, but knowing some of the details made the process itself easier, and in the end, conserved mana, something she didn't want to waste, if she could help it.
Terra looked back up at Majulin's face, cocking her head curiously to the side.
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Post by webster52402 on Aug 11, 2009 7:47:01 GMT
His death was getting closer... Scuttling ever forward on six legs, which seemed as thick around as one of his. Complete with huge pincers that seemed like they could cleave him in half, with a single snap. Compared to his sword, which wavered and wobbled in the strong winds in an already trembling hand, it was absolutey pathetic. There was a hunger in its gleaming black eyes... A hunger that Artmer would be feeding.
As he began to whimper and shrink down, preparing for the blow that would come and slay him, an arrow whistled by to slam itself into the creature. The air was pierced by an ear splitting shriek of a scream, which caused Artmer to drop the piece of crab that he was holding and his sword both, and clap both hands to his ears. He let out a weak howl of fear and pain of his own, though compared to that of the gigantic boulder mud crab, it was nothing.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he crouched down, whimpering under his breath. The thing had been hurt, and now it would be enraged, killing him that much more painfully. He just knew it, somewhere in the back of his heart. Convinced that this would be the case, he didn't even look up or open his eyes for the longest time, until he suddenly became aware that the scuttling sounds were actually moving away from him, rather than towards him.
Sneaking a peek with one eye, he caught a blurry vision of the crab, making its way through the shifting ash towards a blurry figure that stood nearby, wielding a bow and arrow. Though he was confused for a moment as to who it was that was helping him, his mind provided the answer quickly enough: By reminding him of the way Dark Feather had done much the same thing for him on the boat against the skeleton.
She was helping him again, with the crab going after her, while he was crouched down in the sand, whimpering and crying like a little baby.
Surprisingly, his reaction wasn't guilt and depression, but outrage. He would owe her twice for this. If he just stood by, and let it attack her, she may get injured, because she tried to help him out, whne he didn't even run from the thing. Hell, his sword wasn't even in his hand at the moment. It was lying in the sand, just like he himself was...
Snatching up the blade with one hand, he rose out of his crouch, with a hoarse cry. He couldn't just sit by while Dark Feather was attacked. Though he couldn't do much... Certainly not as much damage as she had done with that arrow to the eye... He had to try.
Rushing over to one of the creature's thick legs, now that it was turned to one side, he brought the longsword that he had claimed earlier over his head, both hands reaching up to grip the hilt tight. Though he held it awkwardly, and he wouldn't be quite as effective in this as he would like, he still brought it down in a awkwardly placed, but forceful downward chop. If anything, he was hoping to be an annoyance, so that Dark Feather could either get another shot in or withdraw...
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Post by Vicorva on Aug 11, 2009 8:08:53 GMT
OOC: Lol, we're the two least combative characters in the group, and we keep getting attacked on our own... IC:
The leg was one of the weakest points on a crab, and there was an audible crack! as Artmer chopped it, not just cutting the leg, but by the sounds of it, shattering it. Not as good as a warrior might have done, but a fortunate blow nonetheless.
Dark blinked as the creature recoiled, and a shiver ran down her spine. If Artmer hadn't chopped at it, it might have grabbed her by now, and she did not fancy being between those bloated pincers.
The mudcrab screamed again and turned towards him, reaching out with its sharp, sharp pincers, but Dark-Feather had taken aim by now, shooting a hole clear through the face once again, making the mudcrab scuttle backwards, scrabbling at its face in surprise. Come on... she urged herself. Faster... Another arrow followed, this one piercing straight through the mudcrab's mouth.
It looked on death's door now, but it scuttled towards Artmer, who was nearest, once again, determined to at least take a piece out of him, but it was struggling very slowly now, its mind not working clearly and its leg broken.
EDIT: Added slightly more depth to this rubbishy post. :/
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Post by Vrek on Aug 11, 2009 8:55:44 GMT
OOC: "as webster chopped it"? You're getting slow, IN. Also, I'm fairly sure that crabs are invertebrates.
IC: I'm losing my focus. Reese thought grimly, watching Artmer run off. Probably after the Argonian girl, whom had somehow run off in the short time that he was preoccupied fetching his tools. Back in his day, he would never have let a crucial happening like that go by without his notice. Perhaps Maborel was right, and it was about time he settled into the Priory.
As if to accentuate his self defeating thoughts, the wind whipped around him, bringing in a storm of Blight. He didn't notice that coming either. At last his lifetime of discipline take over as he realized that they lost the two young ones behind the red wall.
He quickly set about, giving Cyrus a light kick to stir him, though most likely he was already woken by the storm. The chased after the Orc, grabbing his arm to slow him. "Hold on a second. We need to wait for Terra and Majulin." He shouted over the storm, and started a coughing fit as the dust blew into his open mouth. After a few solid moments of coughing, he continued. "If we go off now, his leg will cause us more trouble then if we handle it now."
He started back, copying Babur and pulling his shirt over his mouth. Once he reached distance to speak with the mage and the warrior, he yelled over the wind, "Could you try to hurry up, we need to go after the two kids."
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Post by Chaos 303030 on Aug 11, 2009 10:18:05 GMT
Cyrus quickly rose up, looking around. It was made quickly apparent to him that during his light nap, a nap that was sheltered from the wind by the ditch he had carved out, a blight storm had kicked up. It was also made apparent that two of their own had run off; likely before the blight hit, since no person in their right minds would walk into one of Vvardenfel's famed blight storms unprotected. He took a head count, seeing who left and who remained around the fire. He made a mental note to himself about the missing members.
So...it's the Argonian Archer and the Dunmer...eh...villager? I suppose thats a good classification for him... He scratched his chin and watched everyone begin to mobilize for a search. Well...not the worst losses we might have suffered. Suppose I should pitch in now. He heaved himself to his feet, shielding his face from the blight as best he could. Having a shirt would really have helped him out in a situation like this, but then again, he hadn't expected this harsh of a storm so early in. He checked that his kit was still with him; his maps and his sword were still in place, the maps a bit soggy still. He set off after Reese.
"You woke me for a reason, I assume. A reason that relates primarily to our missing numbers, correct?" He yawned and stretched. "Just...tell me what I need to do...so I can get back to my nap." He blinked a bit and wrinkled his face, shaking off the sleep.
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Post by webster52402 on Aug 11, 2009 15:31:42 GMT
OOC: I know! It's like the world knows precisely when to hit the two that are virtually hapless in battle. xD
IC: Artmer was relieved when the blade sunk deep into the thick leg of the crab with a resounding, satisfying cracking noise. Its exoskeleton was cleaved wide open, revealing the greasty, almost pasty looking meat that filled the crab's innards. He had actually done it. He had landed his first sword blow against something, and it had been actually effective!
Then the crab moved. The exoskeleton closed around his sword blade - as Artmer had been too busy admiring the blow he had just landed to remove it - and it caught in the crab's leg. With a grunt of surprise, Artmer tugged on it uselessly, only to have it ripped from his hands entirely when the crab turned to bring its pincers to bear on him. With a yelp of fear, he raised his arms futilely to block them, hoping that they'd just claim an arm or two rather than bisect him.
Instead, an arrow from Dark Feather spared him, thudding into the crab's exposed face. As it reeled, Artmer did the thing that he was best at: He ran away. Scrabbling back over the beach, he found himself amid the bleached bones and tattered clothing of the unfortunate sailors that had served as the crab's bed and meal. Despite his situation, Artmer still stopped and made a soft groan of disgust.
Then the scuttling returned. Looking back over his shoulder, the very angry, very big, and very wounded mudcrab was advancing upon him. Artmer was backed into the detritus and couldn't escape... And the thing wasn't going to go down easily, it looked like. It was already short one eye, one leg, and with a wooden arrow sticking right out of its mouth. How did that not kill the thing?
Desperate, Artmer began to throw bits and pieces of the sailors at the crab. "Back! Back foul thing! Back!" He rasped hoarsely, kicking whatever was available at the crab. A skull bounced off its face and ricocheted off to parts unknown. A leg bone smacked it in the eye, causing the thing to let out an angered hiss. An arm bone jabbed itself into a pincer, which a quick click snapped in two. But it never stopped.
Growing more and more panicked by the second, Artmer dropped to his knees, fishing among the bones for some of the sailors' weapons. There had to be something! A sword, a spear, an axe, anything that would allow him to defend himself. When he felt his hand close around the hilt of something, he let out a happy cry, and pulled from the bones...
A small, rusted iron dagger.
Artmer stared at the thing a moment, looking between it and the approaching boulder, that was slowly limping its way closer. A few seconds, and Artmer would be facing a lot of pincer. And he had a dagger?
With a cry of frustration, Artmer did the best thing he could with the dagger: He threw it at the crab. Unlike Dark Feather, he didn't exactly have good aim, but the crab was massive anyway, so it wasn't like he could miss. The dagger smacked, hilt first, into the center of the crab's huge maw, knocking the arrow a bit deeper into its mouth. The crab let out a pained shriek and stopped a second, but Artmer wasn't about to stop looking.
Scattering bones in each direction, he looked frantically for another thing he could use. Spying a glint of metal lying beneath one of the unfortunate sailors, he reached down to pull out a small, round iron shield. Well... It wasn't a weapon, but it would help.
By this time the crab, already pissed, was reaching out to Artmer to finally kill the upstart Dunmer. Armed with only his new shield, Artmer turned, and rose the shield, held proudly on one arm, to... block... the crushing pincers.
About as soon as he did it, did he realize how stupid the idea was. The crab's massively bloated pincer closed around shield and arm both, the iron discus giving an audible groan as it began to fold beneath the immense pressure. With a startled yelp, Artmer tugged back on the shield, trying to pull back and escape. With the sheild warping and fixated around his arm, though, all he did was jerk the claw forward about a centimeter.
Struggling about in the sand, Artmer had to rely upon Dark Feather again. Otherwise, his shield would be turned into a gauntlet, and Artmer's arm would probably be much worse for the wear...
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Post by FC4 on Aug 11, 2009 17:20:34 GMT
Majulin looked at the Redguard, then at the Altmer, and finally gave a reluctant, echoed sigh in his helmet, his spear arm opening the ashrobe. "Get underneath." He told her as he stood over her. The ashrobe was designed as a large cloth meant to fold a multitude of times over the wearer, so it could be stretched out to accommodate her beneath it.
He didn't want ash getting in the crevices of his armor or the wound, so this was the best solution. "There are clips on the outside of my calf, undo them, it will separate the bonemold plating on the calf of the boot. You'll have to remove the whole boot leather beneath to get to the whole wound, so just take off the boot. It's a sword cut from my own blade during the wrecking. Think it might go near the bone, but it's not that serious. It could wait until Seyda Neen." He insisted, but still held out the ashrobe for her to get under regardless.
OOC: Don't believe Majulin; the wound is rather bad. Describe it as you wish to, Darknova.
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Post by Vicorva on Aug 11, 2009 18:14:35 GMT
OOC:: Web, if this post is unnacceptable, I'll edit. I'm relying on Artmer being malleable in his panic. Dark loosed another arrow as Artmer scrabbled around, but the crab was moving more erractically in its pain, and the arrow bounced harmlessly off its blight-thickened shell. Knocking yet another arrow to her bow, she was vaguely aware of Artmer artlessly throwing things at the crab in her peripheral. She took aim again, and managed to sever one of the mudrab's pincers with the shot, though she had been aiming for the face yet again. With yet another piercing screech, the mudcrab fell back slightly. But of the few arrows Dark had stored in her pack, she had only her two silver arrows remaining, and she would not waste the precious resources on even this beast. She hesitated, body tensed with worry, then rushed to her dunmer comrade, taking him by the elbow. "I'm out of arrows," she told him, and since she was a weak creature, her aim would be of no assisstance in pelting it with pebbles. "Just follow me." And she dragged him after her as she scurried around the side of the great bloated thing, scooping up the discarded dagger as she went. She scrambled up onto the mudcrab's massive shell from behind, the dagger in one hand, Artmer still gripped strongly in the other. With a supreme effort, she forced the dagger into the crab's shell, and pulled Artmer towards the dagger hilt. "Hold it!" she ordered, no longer able to hold on without her hands. She quickly dug her claws in as much as she could onto the ridges of its shell, using her thick reptillian tail to counterbalance the crab's movements. Hissing curses in her own language as her feet scrabbled to find purchase, she kicked off her boots and used her scaly, clawed feet to help her grip. Unlike khajiits, argonians were not much designed to perch in trees, but the boulder-like back of the mudcrab suited her feet well. Running had not seemed like a good idea. Artmer and the mudcrab were both unknowns, and while Dark knew she could run a very long time if she had to, she was not the quickest of women. But up here, they were safe from the crab's pincers, and hopefully it was weakened enough that it would eventually collapse. As the mudcrab was not exactly a bucking bronco, it wasn't too difficult to cling on if you were determined, either. Though I'd have preferred to have more to grip with than my fingertips... she thought with slight worry, but Artmer's need was greater than hers. She kept an eye on him, ready to grab him if he appeared to be falling, but for all he was no fighter the dunmer seemed to have a real will to live, so she couldn't imagine him giving up. She scrambled forwards as the mudcrab wobbled, determined not to slide off its back, but she could feel its legs beginning to buckle. We can wait it out... she told herself. It must be on its last legs now... But all she could really do was hope.
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Post by webster52402 on Aug 12, 2009 18:07:58 GMT
OOC: Well I was going to wait for the others to do something useful wherever they are... xD
IC: Artmer was caught up in a blur of activity, as arrows pinged off of the mudcrab's shell. He was still struggling about as much as he could with the gigantic pincer, but the shield was almost bent all the way around his arm now, and was starting to collapse inwards. He could feel the pressure on his bones, starting to become painful...
Then an arrow slammed into the pincer itself, locking the joints together with a wooden shaft. Astounded by his luck, Artmer was released by the gigantic mudcrab, as it staggered backwards with a shriek. Stunned, he didn't even run. He just stood there, looking dumb as Dark Feather came rushing over to him, suddenly grabbing a hold of him.
At the touch of her cool scaled hand, he snapped back into awareness, allowing himself to be pulled in one direction, around the great creature. Though he wondered just what Feather was going to do, she still seemed to know what she wanted.
Little did he know just how crazy of an idea the Argonian girl had. When they arrived at the back of the mudcrab, she took the dagger that she had scooped up - without Artmer noticing, which briefly made him do a double take - and plunged it up to its hilt in the back of the mudcrab. Forcing his hands to it, she commande dhim to hold on, before scrambling up onto the shell herself.
Blinking, Artmer hung onto the hilt of the dager out of surprise more than anything. It was a bit difficult, since the crab was very much alive and still moving, but once he found purchase with his feet on the rough shell, it became mostly a waiting game. Unlike him, though, Dark Feather didn't have a hand grip that she could rely upon...
Looking about dazedly for something he could use, he noticed his sword, sticking out of the creature's leg. It looked like he could reach it, if he jumped down to recover it, but... He certainly didn't want to move back into the range of that creature's pincers. A quick glance at his new bracer that had once been a sheild - which covered his left hand entirely, making hanging on even more difficult since it forced his wrist to remain rigid - made up his mind for him. He would just hang on for dear life.
Clutching both hands tight on the dagger, so tight that his ashy black/grey skin paled down to a light, light grey, he pressed his weight against the dagger, forcing it in a litlte more. He just had to outwait the thing...
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Post by Vicorva on Aug 12, 2009 18:24:21 GMT
OOC: You deleted my bump!!! And yeah, I guess I'll wait for everyone else, since we kinda need them to come rescue Dark and Artmer anyhoo, or else the crab to fall asleep. EDIT To reply to Vrek: I just like bumping things.
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Post by DarkNova50 on Aug 12, 2009 19:14:33 GMT
Looking at the opened ashrobe, and then back up to Majulin's face, Terra raised a single, sceptical eyebrow, before nodding curtly in agreement. "Alright, then," she replied, making her way beneath the protective folds of the Dunmer's garment. "Just don't get any funny ideas."
Given that she was sharing the interior of the robe with another person, Terra found she had a surprising amount of room to work with. She was also grateful that the particulate ash of the storm was no longer pelting against her skin, though she found her new work space rather dark. Snapping her fingers, she called upon a weak light spell, and began working on removing the Dunmer's armour.
Initially, Terra found herself struggling to open the clasps along the length of the slick chitin boot; though she could lift a cow to the top of the Cheydinhal guild roof in record time, dealing with armour was something she was completely inexperienced with. Eventually, however, she managed to remove the hardened carapace and boot, revealing the Dunmer's wound beneath.
"By Auriel's bow..." Terra whispered to herself, gazing at the Dunmer's wound. A deep gash ran down the length of his calf, coming dangerously close to the bone, as he'd described. Blood flowed from the wound in a slow but constant trickle, several severed veins exposed within the flesh, and the skin around the wound already appeared to be necrotizing. It was amazing that the man had been limping for as long as he had; he shouldn't have been able to walk at all.
Terra immediately placed her hands on either side of the Dunmer's calf, focusing a powerful healing spell into the wound. Within seconds, the dying tissue around the wound began to regain colour, the soft tissue within the wound mending itself back together.
"I wish you men would stop trying to be so gods damned macho!" Terra roared at Majulin from within his own ashrobe, still working on his wound. "You can't exactly go after Valenth if you all die from infection, can you!?" The young Altmer shook her head. Honestly, how hard is it to admit you need healing? she thought to herself.
After a few more moments, the spell had run its course, Majulin's skin closing in over the site of the old wound. "Finished down here!" she barked at the Dunmer, forcing her way back out from beneath the folds of the robe. She decided to let the man replace his own armour, both so he could inspect her work, and also to save herself the painful spectacle of trying to put the armour back on his leg.
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Post by FC4 on Aug 13, 2009 0:57:48 GMT
"I've had wounds more painful." Majulin retorted to the altmer beneath his ash robe, her voice muffled by the robe. When she came out in a huff, he simply shifted his leg, feeling the carapace boots clank against him. Majulin knelt, one arm holding up the ashrobe in a sort of shelter as he released his spear to reclasp the armor and pull up his boot.
Before doing so, he looked at his leg now. While before putting on his armor, the wound wasn't terrible, it had begun to hurt during his climbing through the wreckage. He reasoned rubbing against his boot agitated it, but figured it safe enough to carry on to Seyda Neen. The Altmer, apparently, thought differently. She has such intolerance for pain and injury. Certainly not a soldier. This was probably the one wound Majulin incurred that would not form a scar.
She had done a spectacular job in that respect, though she really needn't have put so much effort into his leg wound. Her abilities could have been put to better use on the others, who were not as tolerate to pain as he was. His hand ran along the line where his wound once was, before he pulled up his boot and reclasped the bonemold with a swift, easy efficiency. He picked up his spear again as he rose, the Chuzei bonemold helmet turning, red eyes looking to Terra through the slit of amber resin.
"Thank you, Muthsera Terra." Majulin bowed slightly in the buffeting ash winds, ashrobe fluttering about him dramatically. Covered from head to toe in flowing robe and gritty, browned insectoid materials, he was a perfect example of why the Dunmer made such an exotic, unnerving presence on the battlefield. When he straightened, his adjusted his grip on the spear, turning the point down to the ground and looking over to the forest.
"We must find the two wanderers soon." Majulin walked over to Reese as he said this, looking to the Redguard. "Which way did they wander?"
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Post by Vrek on Aug 13, 2009 4:54:11 GMT
Reese nodded at the Redoran, then shifted around and made eye contact with everyone else present. "They both went further inland" He yelled as best he could over the wind, hoping everyone could hear him. He turned and looked at the firepit, most of it already being covered by sand and ash. Judging from where they were standing...
The Redguard reached out, pointing to where he believed Artmer had been headed. Instead of pressuring his lungs further, he started off in that direction, trusting in the others to follow him.
After a few minutes of pressing into the red storm, he thought noticed movement to the side. He rose his arm, then gestured in it's direction, pointing it out to the others. He pushed towards it, raising his arms to block his eyes against the wind. His hunch proved accurate. He could make out the both of them soon. They were both on a large rock. One of them clung to the top, the other looked to be trying to climb it. Reese wondered the wisdom in going to an even more exposed position. And then the boulder flailed as if to shake away the two people. "It's alive!" He shouted immediately, even though it was impossible to miss.
He drew his arm away from his face and pointed it at the behemoth, squinting at it against the storm. He cut himself short before he actually launched a spell at it. It would be too easy to strike the two others. He let his arm drop. He'd let Majulin and the Orc handle it. Silently he hoped that Terra came to the same conclusion.
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Post by Vicorva on Aug 13, 2009 10:07:08 GMT
OOC: I'm away Monday to Saturday next week with no internet access. If anyone could RP Dark-Feather or something, that'd be awesome. If not, I'll have her kidnapped or captured by slavers or something.
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Post by FC4 on Aug 17, 2009 3:54:19 GMT
Majulin looked through the amber resin of his helmet, stopping just behind Reese as the Redguard marveled at the behemoth before them. "It's alive!" He heard the hoarse cry of the man, and looked at the boulder that the two figures clung to.
It shuddered, and no ash winds could cause a boulder ten times the size of an Alit to shudder. Briefly the Redoran wondered just what it could be. And then it flailed, a large claw cutting through the swirls of ash. It was a giant mudcrab! Beneath his helm, none could see the brief flicker of worried fear that struck his face.
They were not unheard of beasts to the Island, but Majulin had never personally encountered one. They were the stuff of tavern legends, not thoroughly researched by scholars. But adventurers had done plenty of their own research. Wizardy, Telvanni experiments, Blight, Corprus, they were as numerous as the drinks the theories were discussed over.
Of course, they also came with outlandish ways of defeating such a monster. Majulin never bothered with those parts of the tales, after the fifth or so time of hearing such. Instead, he inhaled deeply, adjusted his grip on his spear and moved towards the bumbling beast, ashrobe parting to allow the spear to exit its infinite folds.
His other arm emerged from the fluttering robe, to grab the spear stock as his right hand inched further up the shaft. The ashrobe seemed to meld around his arms, the large cloth folding around the gaps as the winds rustled it, never failing to contain the unrelenting ash. Majulin spread his legs as he neared the beast, holding balance and ground in the rushing winds. It was a common spear stance, but modified, compensating for the storm.
The mudcrab did not openly react to his threatening posture, continuing to struggle and flail its claws about. Majulin narrowed his eyes, uncertain of just what was happening, until he noticed the dark fluid leaking from the eye stalks.
It's blind! Majulin knew this had advantages, but it came with disadvantages as well. Such as the sudden sweeping claw that came out from the swirling ash, catching Majulin in the hip and sending him to the ground, armor clattering. The spear spun and dug into the ground next to him as he groaned, picking himself up.
"Strike low to the ground!" He hollered over the winds to the others. "Strike the flanks, the claws won't reach you, he's blinded!" Majulin instructed, ripping his spear from the ground and slipping his bonemold shield from his back, sliding it out of his ashrobe. The Redoran warrior lifted the spear and rested the head on one of the arms of bonemold on the shield, and advanced at the beast once again with his widened stance.
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