Description
Sometimes referred to as "The Cherubic Druid of Ashfall" or "The Cherubic Druid", Tudyk is not always viewed as a topic of a serious nature and it is not uncommon for his reputation to be one of jest rather than one of admiration or disdain. His kin, however, can tell you, that there is more than a joke to his claims of Druidism.
A pervasive feeling of power cloaks him and the scent of fresh forest loam permeates the air about him.
"There are few who can describe Tudyk fully any longer and most of 'em that can, can't talk else they yip or a yowl."
-Milo, Clan Ashfall.TudykThe Halflings of Ashfall have two names. Their parents give them a name that follows standard convention within the world; a way to be addressed and identified. Then the halfling, upon entering adulthood, gives him or herself a name that is said to be bound to the soul and destiny. This name is rarely shared and, though many only follow this as tradition, there are a few who still believe in its power. Age36
Halflings age at a slower rate than humans do and Tudyk is comparable in physical maturity to that of a human in their mid twenties.GenderMaleRaceHalflingClassDruidThe powers of a Druid As a druid, Tudyk can commune with beast and plant alike, interacting through the spirits of the world and of life. With these abilities he can perform many a deed that are beyond the realm of standard. Almost anything he does, however, is merely an exaggeration of that which is already possible through the powerful influence of energetic natural spirits. As a halfling, Tudyk learned how to use a sling at an early age and took up the slingstaff out of versatility and convenience.
The bond that Tudyk holds with Faerghas, his animal companion, is supernatural and pervasive, foregoing all that is standard or normal. By how they interact, one might consider that Tudyk and Faerghas could hold full conversations. Faerghas also appears to be larger and heartier than most natural wolves.Personality
Tudyk experiences an almost bipolar swing between the jovial joking of his Halfling nature and between the stoic thoughtfulness of a druid. He often well remain at the forefront of extroversion and social interaction but where the direly serious is concerned he becomes almost neutral, not able to turn his halfling optimism into negativity but surely quelled to become serious. With the perspective of a druid, who sees beyond the facades of the world and hears the thrumming breaths of nature, things change.
Equipment
Slingstaff
Halflings across the world tend toward games and sport involving throwing objects and have a natural affinity toward slings. Combining a quarterstaff and a sling, the slingstaff allows a greater degree of versatility within the weapon that has been proven to be lifesaving.
Dirk
With a blade nearly twice the length of a standard knife, a dirk just falls short of a Gladius in its blade length but also possesses a more narrow blade.
Hatchet
Serving mostly utilitarian purposes, Tudyk sometimes uses this wood cutting tool as a weapon in dire straits.
History
Tudyk hails from a band of nomads who traverse the lowlands and highlands of Ashfall on a yearly cycle, visiting towns and keeps all throughout for trade, merriment and livelihood, but keeping ever distant from the ancient and dense forest known as Barrenwood. Many centuries ago is when Ashfall received its duly earned name. A volcano in the nearby mountains erupted in tumultuous clouds of ash and fire that rained down upon the land for a fortnight, choking and scorching all within it's grasp. The land was nearly destroyed and life seemed hopeless lost, save for the mighty and ancient forest, who's canopy was scorched and who's borders were made barren. So dense and strong, was the forest, however, that the inner sanctum of its life was saved, untouched by the furious event. The rest of the land was not so lucky and the forest was sealed off from the world for nearly a hundred years until life took hold once more.
After seeing that the forest survived the cataclysm and that the scorched trees on its borders still stood tall, many felt a dreadful fear of the place. Those who went near it seemed hopelessly draw into its borders where they were never heard from or seen again. Word spread quickly of the dreadful and haunted Barrenwood, giving it infamy across the region. All who knew stayed away and those who did not seemed to disappear without a trace.
Halflings are bold folk. They do not balk at superstition but do not pander to it either. No such group can better exemplify this than the Halflings of Ashfall.
Tudyk was born to a clan of the like and, though he had parents, was raised by the entirety of the clan just like everyone else within it.
He always seemed to have a fascination with the natural world and would sometimes spend more time watching the wildlife and trying his best to get close than playing with the other children. It was an almost daily shift that concerned the clan at first but then became accepted as the norm.
One day, soon after Tudyk became a man by rights of the clan, he entirely disappeared on the borders of Barrenwood. A panic spread about that he was dead or dying in the dark and ominous borders so a search party was formed. For three days they searched the border regions of Barrenwood and, despite their best efforts to enter deeper into the forest, always wound up back at the border. The search efforts waned until all had given up hope. It had been a fortnight and surely Tudyk was gone for good.
It was the day that they began planning his commemoration when a great timber wolf came padding into the caravan circle with a very familiar Halfling upon his back. Tudyk had returned and he was changed forever.
In the moons following, the clan steadily adjusted to Tudyk, his new found fascination with Barrenwood and his new companion, Faerghas. Eventually, it became part of the daily norm and, though Tudyk was the same boy they knew, something deeply rooted in him had changed. It was apparent to only a few that he had received the calling that only a Druid receives and that he knew that forest as intimately as he knew his clan.
The only sure thing, however, in this world, is change.
Tudyk knew that he could not stay in Barrenwood and that he could not traverse the steppes of Ashfall forever. The spirits of the world lit a fire within him to travel and see all that he could see, to gain perspective and wisdom, grow in power and knowledge so that he might meet his destiny with vibrant eyes and a readied soul.
Tudyk could have never guessed that his destiny would have been so closely intertwined with The Brotherhood. Comrades in arms, stemming the tide and fighting each for their own reason. For Tudyk, his destiny is intermixed strongly with the world and he hears the whispers of ancient spirits, calling him to actions he could not weigh the consequences of in his entire lifetime.
For now, however, he fights to protect all that he holds dear and does so with his brothers and sisters.
So begins...
Brisk was hardly a word to describe the feeling of the cool night air as Tudyk and Faerghas neared the village. There was an unnatural chill on the wind that was unsettling to the Halfling. It made him shiver. Faerghas emitted a low rumbling growl that was barely heard but surely felt. Tudyk reached down from his perch and patted Faerghas' neck. The wolf turned his head slightly and silenced himself, a single big blue eye glancing back with concern.
Tudyk's own rusty gaze met his companion's for a moment of comfort before they both perked to sudden alertness.
Voices.
Faerghas lowered his head and stalked silently with Tudyk pulling himself low to the wolf's shoulders. Faerghas' fur coat seemed to nearly engulf Tudyk!
Within moments the two were nearly upon the road and Faerghas stopped. Tudyk turned his head so his ear was to the sky. The voices sounded in common with what sounded like a normal interchange of greeting. Friendly. Tudyk could not tell this for sure but Faerghas confirmed the thought with a notion when he raised his head in a relaxed fashion and strode out of the brush onto the road. Tudyk sat up straight on the wolf's back and wiped some stray fur off of his face.
A silvery charm in his dreaded hair tinkled happily on a wooden bead next to a hawk's feather and big rusty brown eyes peered at the group as they all gathered.
His eyes settled upon the center of attention. Sir Isaac Greyjoy.
"Shall I call yeh friend or shall I call yeh brother?"
The small Tudyk said boldly, smirking with a quirked brow from atop the back of a brown ash coated canine that rivaled a warhound's dreams of grandeur.
The air grew stifer as the Dwarf made his trek up north. He got the message not to long ago, thankfully for him he wasn't lodging to far away. It was early morning since he left, since it would take most of the day to walk there. Duergen was offered a ride in repayment for some furs, but Duergen hated being off the ground. He hated heights and never felt comfortable mounted on a horse or a similar creature. He often wondered how some of the Dwarves back in the mountains could ride rams and bears, well at least they had some brave Dwarven Calvaries, otherwise most of the other races do have prominent calvaries making them fast and efficient. Although Dwarven Calvaries are not the best in the world at least they do manage against the Goblins who are unsually fast.
Duergen made his way up the road as he could hear the voices drifting in the wind. Well it seems I be late once again. Oh well, hope they're not angry. As I always say, takin yer time be better than wastin yer time.
As he made his way up the street he could see a group of people conversing, more than likely its the rest of the Brotherhood. Duergen wouldn't call himself an honorary member or even a fledling member, his buisness for being up here is that he had a debt he owed the Brotherhood. Duergen promised them that if they ever needed extra help, he would come to their aid. Duergen just wonders how bad could it be for them to summon him. As he reached the group he saw that it mainly consisted of able-bodied warriors in shinning armor. Two of them were men the other an elf by the looks of her. Compared to Duergen he didn't seem quite as specatcular, then he spotted two smaller folks that look just about as unimpressive as him, one of them was definitely a Halfling, he was shorter than himself! The other had a pointy hat and broom, if that isn't the sign of witch then he doesn't know what is. Duergen decided to introduce himself, it was only common curtousey.
"Hiyah! The names Duergen, pleased to meet ya!" He said boisterously as he placed down his brown hood, so he could see the taller people's faces.
Elroy let loose a deep, rolling chuckle after Duergen's introduction. The elf, the halfling and the witch all seemed friendly enough but the dwarf truly seemed like someone Elroy would become fast friends with. He heartily patted the Duergen on the back, unintentionally making the dwarf struggle to maintain footing under the friendly pat from the big man.
"Same to you friend! Haven't fought side by side with a dwarf since I wiped out that Frost Spider nest in Darkwall. Tell you what, lets say we make a wager. A pint says that I'll kill more of those nasty undead buggers before the nights over than you do. You lose you buy me one, deal? You win, drinks on me."
Elroy said with a wide grin before turning to the rest of the small party.
"That goes for the lot of you as well...except you boss. Unless you're interested that is, sir."
He said to Greyjoy toning back his boisterous excitement in turn showing the Knight the respect he deserved.
"Pff!"
The Halfling scoffed with a face, big rusty eyes rolling for a second in amuse.
"Y'think I'll be buyin' a thing, yeh got another thing comin'!"
Tudyk threw his head back in a laugh and then leaned forward on Faerghas' haunches, eyes narrowing and moth curling with amuse.
"My winnins will be tha look on yeh face when a fella not the height ova sapling saves yeh from tha clutches of the nasties o'er thar!"
The halfling then winked and sat up straight on Faerghas' back once more.
"Alas, focus, lads. There's evil afoot."
His eyes became suddenly serious and seemed deepened with a weight that was pervasive and beyond that which one could truly see. His lip curled and he pulled up his sling-staff from a strap that hung on Faerghas' side. The wolf growled deeply in agreement and Tudyk patted his neck firmly.
"A'vhen s'riel."
Tudyk whispered.
Duergen, surprised by the reception, was glad that the group didn't think of him as lazy, he was beginning to become annoyed with that description of him. The big man that patted Duergen nearly tipped him over, which isn't easy to tip over a Dwarf whose feet are planted firmly on the ground. This man had strength then when he spok of Darkwall Duergen said, " Oi! I knew a fella' over in Darkwall, he be called by the name of..*snaps fingers*..Taungrem!" "He be a good friend o' mine!" Then the Big Man made a proposition Duergen didn't expect to hear, "Aye, yer on but I must warn yeh, I can put 'em away, so ye better have enough money!" Duergen gave a loud gruff laugh.
"So then where are they all?" "Bring'em on!" "I didn't travel this far north fer nothin!" Duergen said as he drew his axe, prepared for whatever may come.
The first to arrive was a giant warrior who came walking up the road in full plated golden armour. The man approached Isaac and shook his hand with a smile saying "Sir Isaac Greyjoy? Elroy D'Canith, looks like I'm your new grunt sir." Isaac replied with âWe are all Brothers here my friend, no need for formalities. Call me Isaac.â
Then came the witch girl who came flying out of the sky on her broom. She landed a few yards down the road from them. As she approached, Isaac thought she looked nervous and hoped the fact he had once been a Paladin didnât scare the girl. "Greyjoy? My name is Catherine Blaney. The...uhhm...Brotherhood sent me." she said to him. He bowed his head in her direction âIts good to have you with us Catherine.â
Out of nowhere came the third. She appeared behind the trio, as if out of the darkness itself. She was a short dark skinned elf who wore a sword at her hip and a shield on her back. All she said was "Greetings". Isaac acknowledged her with a simple bow of the head.
Then came a strange sight a halfling atop a great timber wolf came strolling up the road towards them. Isaac noticed his assortment of weapons and the large scar down his left eye. He approached the group and his attention fell on Isaac and he said "Shall I call yeh friend or shall I call yeh brother?" âYou may call me both but Isaac is my name.â Isaac replied.
A dwarf man came next. He came strolling towards them looking fierce. He was armed with a large battle axe and he had a bundle of short throwing hatchets on his back. "Hiyah! The names Duergen, pleased to meet ya!" The dwarf shouted cheerfully. âGood to meet you Duergen. My name is Isaac.â He said smiling back at him.
He looked around the small group. He had hoped for more people but it didnât matter much now. The enemy would be easy enough the vanquish. He addressed the whole group, who were all talking among themselves. âTonight my brothers and sisters we shall clear this poor village of an infestation of vile undead soldiers.â He could sense that some of the group were urging to go. âBe prepared.â he said calmly before starting towards the village. The group all fell in line to either side of him. He could see movement and could sense the undead in the village.
Elroy drew his sword and readied his shield as he fell in line with the others. Taking a defensive position on the outside of the short column Elroy had his shield up, ready for anything that may come screaming out of the shadows. His eyes flicked to the head of the column, resting for a moment on Greyjoy. Their leader strode boldly yet not seeming to poses that foolish sense of invincibility many knights tended to have. While he seemed unafraid his movements still showed caution. He was not one to walk into a trap which helped put D'Canith at ease. Elroy put his mind back to his surroundings. The old town had long since fell from its hayday. The buildings were little more than ghosts of their former selves. Structures of rotting wood and cobwebs that held nothing more than shadows and memories. As they moved into the eerie village a chill settled on the air that was no doubt felt by every one in the party. It almost shouted at them that they shouldn't be here yet the adventurers pressed on. A low growl formed in the big man's throat as his eyes caught sight of a shadow that seemed to dart from one building to another. Then again another shadow seemed to go from rooftop to rooftop. Then another, and another.
"We're being watched..."
Elroy grunted in a low foreboding tone. The big mans smile had faded and his tone was serious. It was always odd for friends of Elroy who'd never seen him in combat witness the change in the kind giants demeanor. While Elroy enjoyed a good laugh he knew when to shape up and do his duty. He'd been a soldier long enough to know to shut his trap when he had to. The experienced warrior's ears picked up the distinct tension building sound of a bowstring being drawn before he brought his shield up and deflected an arrow that would have surely pierced his skull.
"ARCHERS!"
Elroy roared as arrows began raining from the sky. Ghastly skeletal creatures stood atop the buildings and in the alley ways, bearing wicked looking bows and were firing ancient looking arrows at the group hoping to riddle them full of arrows.
Waiting...waiting...waiting...
Catherie was just waiting for someone to freak out at her prescence. She looked to her left at the ebony elf, whom was shorter then the witch herself, and was just as armoured as the two paladins/knights/musclehead men were, did not go mad with her prescence. Neither did the halfling who was roosted upon his canine companion. Neither did the dwarf. It was just as surprising as it was dissapointing. Although she would never admit it, the witch actually had a speech prepared about the hypocrisies of other races when someone would someone would go berserk because of her prescence.
Matter of fact; it was...pleasent. She was just there, not a conflict or a problem, but just there. She felt relief and further comfort listeing to the banter of men; each believing one could rid more fiends then the next. In her first years she walked Illian is when she first saw man and reilized three things: their pride was common, along with their high levels of bravado and odour. It didn't matter whether the knight in gold armor (and she sincerily hoped it wasn't gold, knowing well that she can bite a gold coin and dent it shall, the useless mallable material gold is), who's name she wasn't present for, or the dwarf who's axe and horrid facial hair, Duergan, could equally be used as weapons. They'd get rid of all the undead.
Besides. Catherine would get the most of the slippery creatures. "Oh sure, I might not have a sharp instrument or shiny gold, but I like to see these cretins utilize intelligence and magic." She thought to herself; only the small curving of her lips evidence to her excitement. Greyjoy's speech was a little...lackluster but it was just shambling bones they were up against. Quickly grabbing a hold of Griselda, she mounted on top of her, and gave her feet some relief from supporting her weight. In all honestly, despite their friendliness, Catherine still eyed the male contingency with a carefull eye and floated alongside the armoured elvish woman.
She never really saw a ghost town, so the experiance was new to her, but it didn't frighten her as much as it fascinated her. The whole village was abandoned and it felt like the shadows of the actual building stood before them. Now if she didn't have a broom and was forced, forced, to take arms with blades, blunts and arrows, where would she set up recluse? Perhaps if a foot soldier, she'd stay concealed behind these buildings or better yet inside, and if she was an archer....
"ARCHERS!"
Her back suddenly straightened at attention and Griselda launched herself directly up towards the sky before any of the arrows could land and found herself suspended into the air, far into the sky, watching her comrades shrink to the size of ants. Easily, she could have just stayed in the sky and wait for the battle to be over, but she couldn't let them have all the fun. Catherine hugged the broom as she dove down from the sky, the handle of the broom collided with the skull of the skeleton archer atop the roof of the building, breaking it into three and an explosion of dust as the body flew over the edge of the roof.
Eight undead archers drew back their strings but as quickly as the witch approached them, she left, leaving a flask filled with an orange liquid in the air. The flask broke into a million pieces and the liquid expanded until it flooded the roof with its heat so intense that red flames danced on the artificial lava. Zipping through the sky, she instinctually cackled as the old wooden building quickly burnt down in a fury of lava and fire, a group of undead warriors running out in the desperate attempt to attack those on the ground but ultimately melted away.
From the air, she could see more of the undead warriors storming out of the buildings, wielding a variety of rusted swords and shields, storming the group as they stood. Twelve or fifteen of these skeletons she already rid of; give or take. She flew directly past her companions to the next roof of archers and shouted "14!" to let them know she was already winning. Catherine could get rid off all the archers via fire while her companions took the the more physical route swatting around their swords and shields with their muscles and armor.
Elroy watched in surprise at the stunning magical display Catherine put on. Elroy had seen countless astounding examples of magical prowess coming from the family he did but Catherine showed an unique brand of talent all her own. While perhaps not possessing the raw power of say an Archmagus of the College of Elgath like his brother or sister let alone his parents but Catherine's abilities were impressive. Elroy had to turn his attention to the horde of screaming ghouls pouring out towards the group bearing axes and swords.
"14!"
Catherine shouted out from above. A broad grin dawned on Elroy's face as his grip on his sword tightened.
"We'll see whose buying drinks tonight!"
Elroy barked before hacking down the first corpse that came at him. In a single swing of his massive blade Elroy sliced the ghoul in half from shoulder to hip. He blocked a blow from another ghoul before kicking him in the chest and stepping over him to bring his boot down, crushing his skull. He ducked beneath another blow from yet another corpse before he hacked off his legs and then hacked open his chest. Six more ghouls rushed the big man only to meet the same end as their compatriots. Elroy hacked the down quickly in a savage mix of sword strikes and the occasional shield bash. Elroy was careful not to get separated from the group in order to better protect the others. With a swing of his shield Elroy cracked the skull of a charging skeleton before chuckling and falling back into a defensive position. Elroy still had a few more to go to catch up with Catherine but the battle had only just begun.
"WAIT!!!" "YA CAN'T FORGET ABOUT ME YEH LOUSY LOT!!!" Duergen yelled as he made is way into the building the other archers have taken roost upon. Heh, lets see what roost they 'ave when I break down 'ere house! Duergen using the famous Dwarven Strength to smash they already weak wooden pillars that held up this measly shack of a house. "Oi! There ain't much wood 'ere!" he said as he choped down the scraggley pillars as the top of the house began to come crumbling down. "That be me que to leave!" Duergen made a quick roll out of the old house as the roof collapsed as the skeletal archers fell down into the mess of wood and bolts that formally used to hold a house. "HAHAHAHA! What was that like eight of 'em!" "You better 'ave the pint ready for me!" Duergen shouted at Elroy as he blocked an incoming strike, he then shoved the ghoul back, he then took the opposite end of his axe and tripped the ghoul. He then jumped up and came down with his axe and decapitated the downed ghoul. "Come 'ere is that all ya 'ave!?" Duergen yelled as he shook his axe ready for the next foe.
With a growl Elroy D'Canith blasted three ghouls off their feet with a single shield bash from the massive magewrought shield. He stabbed down and pierced ones skull before following up by doing the same with the second and using his shield to decapitate the third using it like a guillotine. He looked up to see Neoma separated from the rest of the group who were fighting in a tight knit formation. The dark elfs arm was bleeding bad from a long jagged gash yet the woman had a wicked grin firmly placed on her face. Elroy shook his head in disbelief.
"Damned crazy she elf!"
He cursed under his breath as he kicked a charging skeleton in the chest imploding the magically formed being into little more than scattered bones. A sickening howl came form Elroy's left coming from a mad looking ghoul wielding a nasty, spiked cudgel. With a single swing Elroy opened the creatures chest, his sword tearing cleanly through the ghoul flesh. He quickly shot a look at Greyjoy who was hacking down the charging ghouls with practiced ease.
"Isaac! Neoma's surrounded! I'll get her back!"
With that he charged off not liking the idea of leaving the rest of his group undefended but firmly believing without his help the elf would surely die. With a roar tearing from his lungs the big man barreled into the mass of ghouls and skeletons with his shield held up using his entire body like one massive, armored battering ram. He reached Neoma quickly and killed three ghouls in quick succession before he had a chance to speak to her.
"Get back to the others! Quickly!"
He paused to bring his shield up to block an arrow before he stabbed forward and eviscerated yet another ghoul.
"We have to work together friend unless you want to meet your gods tonight!"
He said as he kept his back to the elf and protected her flank. He barely knew the elf. He barley knew any of them but Elroy was not one to let good people die. Charging off on your own as if you didn't need help was a good way to get yourself killed. The big man had seen many a "hero" meet their end due to their own inability to work with a unit.
The Halfling's dual nature had swung to the pole of druidism in half of a moment and his rusty eyes peered with a decisive seriousness that was both neutral and mildly disconcerting. His mind was threatening to be filled with concern and so he calmly pushed it away for the moment. In it's stead, he focused on what must be done and what will be done.
They entered the dead hollows of the town like they had passed through a portal into hell. The smell was so pungent it was withering; a smell that could only be identified as the evil of undeath. Tudyk clutched the dense wooden haft of his slingstaff tightly and the words of warning had barely left Elroy's mouth before Tudyk felt the horrible feeling in his gut. The empathetic link with Faerghas had him warned immediately of the impending danger and it definitely did Elroy some credit; his instincts were like that of a wolf.
Impressive!
Tudyk raised his sling-staff immediately and as if suddenly afflicted with a strange disease, dense, brown-gray material that was rugged and ridged formed across both Faerghas and Tudyk. The spead that it spread would have been alarming were one to not understand the saving nature of the spell. Though appearing stiff, the ironbark was mobile enough that it did not restrict the movements of Faerghas and the wolf had leaped backwards instinctively. THree arrows split the earth where Fearghas had been and two found their mark much hardier than expected.
"Thank Gods for the finesse of the dead!"
Tudyk laughed happily. The arrows did not penetrate his bark-skin but this victory was minor and to be quickly forgotten as the battle began raging within moments. Elroy strode forth into the heat of battle with mighty blows to shatter bone and rend flesh while the witch, Catherine, rocketed into the air to rain fiery destruction upon the heads of the evil false-livings. Deurgen collapsed a building's roof with mighty swings of his axe and the ebon skinned elf drew the horde upon her with ferocity.
Tudyk sucked in a breath that seemed too deep for his little lungs and exhaled it at the ground, causing the corruption and death to recoil from the life he exhaled. Grass sprouted beneath Faerghas' feet and began to grow at an alarming rate, though it did not seem bother the wolf who snarled through a dense shield of cracked bark and moss at the walking dead.
"A'hren!"
Tudyk shouted and Faerghas leaped fiercely towards the hoard crowding about Elroy and Neoma, threatening doom upon them. The nature shrouded pair circled at a pace that seemed unreal and everywhere they touched, vines, grass and underbrush exploded from the ground vivaciously. It reached fiercely for the ghouls, zombies and skeletons, seeming to gain momentum from every enemy it touched, spreading rapidly the majority of the horde was entangled in greenery.
Faerghas deftly leaped atop the broken remains of the building Duergen felled and Tudyk held his palm to the sky with a floating mote of flame, shining light upon himself. From here he could see over the heads of the hoard and to the position of many on the field.
"Oi! Golden-Boy, Dark-Elf, focus your assault and regroup! They shan't be entangled forever!"
The mote of flame grew within the halfling's hand until it was a burning ball and he lobbed it at a zombie that stood in the mass between the two and the rest of the group. Another mote of flame grew within the Halfling's hand, shedding light as a torch. He was no leader but he knew that without them he would not survive and that was unacceptable. The will of nature had to prevail.
The walking dead had to be eradicated.
"A'hren!"
Tudyk sneered and lobbed another ball of flame at the same zombie, collapsing it to be consumed by the writing mass of vines and undergrowth.
"Ah Ha!" Duergen exclaimed as he finished of another skeleton by taking the spiked end of axe and dismantling its torso into hundreds of broken bones. Similar skeletons lay about him in broken disarray, there must be at lest nine of them that Duergen managed to fend off. Then a couple of ghouls lay dead else where that Duergen defeated as he walked over to one of its corpses and removed the hatchet that was protruding from its skull. Duergen walking back towards the group notices them standing around.
"What?" "Over already?" Duergen asks as he walks up the rest of the group.
Beyond the recently grown foliage he noticed a hammer-wielding, partially armored undead that seemed to be more serious than the other undead, that mindlessly went to their demises. Duergen wasn't sure, he didn't spend his time studying the undead since he isn't a paladin or a cleric, but he could tell that this one was particularly stronger and smarter than the others. When the Witch decided to lob a huge ball of ice towards the creature it merely disregarded that attack as it quickly shattered it with its hammer.
"Oh boy!" "We 'ave ourselves a real nasty one 'ere!" "Oi! Sir Greyjoy!" "I am assumin yer Greyjoy, what shall we do with this one?" Duergen asked as he was getting rather tired of this thing staring at them like he could kill them all.
Duergen was getting rather anxious. He knew the one to take this creature out may in fact win the big prize, besides it would be another one for the head count. Although he looked strong Duergen thought he might be able to manage it after all the problem with Undead is their bodies are brittle from the decay making it easier to break them apart. With a good few swings of his axe at the limbs knocking this guy down, the all he would need to do is go for the death stroke. Of course Duergen will not go in headlong obviously some info on this guy would help and it seems Greyjoy is an authority on undead since he is a paladin. Duergen then took his attention to the big guy, he wondered if he will attack him first, with his size and strength he'll probably get to him first and rip him apart. Then there is the witch from what he could tell she has been doing the most damage from all of the burning buildings, she could easily through more fire at this guy, which is what she'll probably do, you can't break fire. Then there is the elven woman, from what he could tell she has been injured but shows no signs of worry or even acknowledgement of he pain, it as almost she enjoys it. Duergen never understood elves but this one's crazier than the others, maybe because she is one of those Faes, downright mysterious folks the Fae are, Dark Elves that keep to themselves and practice an even more mysterious culture compared to High Elves who live in luxury, much like Human Nobles, but in far more serene environments. Duergen himself however only waited at the chance to take this creature down, right now the time isn't right since his guard is up, it would be difficult to take him now, but he will slip up if he is anything like is other undead comrades.
There was a moment of hesitation within the chaos of battle, it seemed. The undead, though lacking the intelligence to formulate a proper tactical withdraw, were taking that very action. At least, the few that remained were. The majority of the hoard had been cut down with the advantageous integration of physical might, spellpower and control. The plants that had sprung up to hold the undead in Thrall now lay still. Not dead, surely, but without the spark of life they had moments ago. The spirits of nature are fickle and can only be held to a mortal cause for so long.
The inseparable pair were still perched upon the rubble, Tudyk with a metal ball in one fist and his sling staff in the other and Faerghas ready to leap at a moment's notice.
They both noticed shortly after the rest of the group did, that an imposing figure stood amidst the regrouping enemies; they noticed that the air's chill increased and a horrible presence seemed to emanate from the Revnant that now showed itself.
Tudyk's rusty eyes scanned the field for straggling undead but it seemed a line had been drawn in the proverbial sand and now there was a standoff. Tudyk dismounted Faerghas, thrusting the sling bullet back into it's pouch, and began climbing a nearby post to gain a vantage similar to what he had. The halfling was preparing.
It was not but a moment after Tudyk reached his perch than did the silence, save for a subtle hum of unholy power, come to an unbearable peak.
Something had to give.
As if aligned under a single mind, all at once the remaining dead raised their weapons into the air and made a great clatter. Cold, glowing orbs for eyes alit in blue flame and a corona of unholy energy exploded from the Revnant, washing over the ghouls, skeletons and zombies like a refreshing spring rain but caused all living material within to recoil in horror and pain. Plants previously risen by Tudyk withered in the unholy cold and the undead surged forward with the Revnant leading a spearhead, as a seemingly infallible scion of powerful and ancient evil, against the band of the Brotherhood.
