@frcstblte
A part of him wondered on the fearlessness of the bandits; that they would willingly traverse the winding mire of the roads (which could scarcely even pass as such) that made up the weald. The fungal beasts were bad enough to encounter in this harsh terrain, but the unreliable footing being made all matters worse, even more so with enemies who carried firearms and crossbows.
They came down on their torch-led party like moths, scuttling around the periphery and and gradually moving in closer. They had begun their assault with an attack to the rear, a bolt being shot towards their man of magick: who had named himself as Faust. The fact that he practiced occult had unnerved him, but Nesdin had been eased by the lack of recognition the magick user showed towards his brand: that he had shared smoking weed and warm cloth when they camped at night.
Body frail, Faust fell. Which left Stuckey to stabilize him as his dog growled and bared its teeth at the bandits bearing down on them, this in turn, left him and brutish barbarian Boteler as the only ones to keep the ambition of their ambushers quelled. Blades flashed and blood flew and Nesdin found himself fascinated by the sure footing she found on the soaked earth, a passing thought as he threw and lashed his chains to daze and stun their enemies. His companion favored the direct approach, impaling any brigand unfortunate enough to get dazed within range of her polearm.
As bodies sunk into the soggy ground, the trickle of bandits seemed to lessen, a silent retreat as it became apparent that they were not going to die easily and quietly.
“Aiiii!”
As Nedsin turned he was met with the sight of a bloodied Stuckey, knife wedged into his knee and club drawn as he tried to parry the next swing, Faust at his feet hopeless and bleeding as the dog whimpered and tried to limp its way back to his master from several feet away. He was terrinly outnumbered and in great danger despite being no more than a stone’s throw from their relative success.
The Hound Master locked eyes with them for a second before batting off an attempt to grapple his weapon holding arm. “Damnable bandits! Help us!”Nesdin felt a stirring deep in his stomach, Faust hand bloodstained as he clutched his shoulder and looked at him with a desperate gaze. Please, it seemed to say.
The veins at his wrist throbbed and pulsed, he felt a mass of flesh push out from his abdomen against the chains wrapped around his body.
He had to help.
