Now, an ordinary Darkspawn did not merit a reaction of this kind, and Nostariel found that her suspicions about something worse being the cause of this were quite confirmed. Sheâd been a bit concerned about it, and in the end had simply followed Ashton to where he was hidden. Peeking carefully around him, her eyes grew round and wide at the sight before her. There were at least thirty Darkspawn there, of various kinds, but the worst part was the reddened heap of flesh and slime and Taint that was attached to one of the walls of the cavern. She had to swallow several times, because her mouth had gone dry.
Sheâd only ever fought one Broodmother before, and that was in a strike squad of thirty Wardens, whoâd known where the thing was ahead of time. This was⊠much more dire than that, though a look to her side did allow her to catch sight of Ithilian, and she waved frantically to catch his attention, still hidden behind the rock formation. She mimed the action of drawing a bow with one hand, then held a palm out flat and moved it up and down a few times, trying to communicate that they needed to pick off as many from a distance as possible. Chewing her lip for a moment, she also made a motion for a large size, trying to refer to the Broodmother, then made a swooping motion with one of her hands, waggling her fingers when they went vertical. How was one supposed to convey that the thing had tentacles which came up from the ground?
Whether or not any of this was communicated properly, they were running out of time. They wouldnât stay unnoticed forever, especially not her, and the Warden unslung her bow from her back. If she could start this off with an explosion and kick up some debris, chances were good most of the guards would make for her and Ash, which should allow Ithilian and Lucien at least some opportunity to get at the Broodmother. It would be important not to just allow it⊠her⊠to be able to pick them off from afar, she remembered that much. Sliding an arrow from her quiver, she nocked it and pulled back, infusing the fireball spell into it and arcing it up, not particularly caring where in the throng of them it hit.
The explosion did indeed generate cover, and the sounds of Spawn armor clinking and their gurgling growls were evidence that many of them were indeed headed their way. âOkay, now we back up and let them come to us,â she said hastily, and did just that, putting another arrow to the string and waiting for the first pursuer to emerge from the dust cloud.
With Nostariel making the leading attack, the entirety of the darkspawn group's attention was shifted in the direction of Ashton and herself, leaving Ithilian and Lucien with an opening. The natural instinct to protect friends would lead them to attack the many spawn rather than the Broodmother, but that wasn't the wisest course here. While they were all distracted with the horde, the Broodmother could attack from a distance, and make it much easier for them to be overwhelmed. She needed to be dealt with, or at least occupied, while the masses were wiped out.
"Do what you can to the Broodmother," Ithilian suggested, drawing an arrow back and peering through the debris. "I'll cover the others." Lucien was the natural choice to take a target head on, while Ithilian could do massive amounts of damage to an unprepared enemy. These darkspawn, all with their backs turned, were just such an enemy. He loosed the first arrow into the spinal column of a hurlock, drawing a second. Ithilian knew exactly what a Broodmother was capable of, having inquired against his better judgment about the fates of those taken by darkspawn. Whoever this thing had once been, he would see to it that they put them to rest here.
And he was fairly certain that he now knew where Darkspawn came from. Some things were better left unknown, indeed. He did not particularly relish the thought of trying to fight the thing, especially not alone, but heâd never said no to a challenge that he could recall. Even if the challenge was faintly sickening him to think about. Perhaps it was best if he simply didnât think about it too much. Nodding to indicate that he had heard and consented to Ithilianâs strategy, Lucien peeled off from the other side and tried to approach the massive Darkspawn creature from the flank. Not being privy to any of Nostarielâs improvised sign-language, he had little idea of what to expect, and approached as cautiously as one could, while still intending to get up-close and kill something.
It was perhaps the only reason he was able to jump back in time to avoid being skewered by one of the tentacles that emerged from the ground, shooting straight up vertically and barely missing his chin. Assuming that it was somehow connected to the similarly-colored creature he was going for, Lucien swung his axe in a broad horizontal sweep, biting deep into the appendage. Another two swings had it retracting with something like a hiss, and he was back in his way to the creature itself.
The ground beneath his feet was vaguely⊠squishy, and he had the sudden thought that it was perhaps fortunate that he had a strong stomach, lest he might lose the last thing heâd eaten considering the implications of this twisted parody of motherhood and the environment it was nested in. At least theyâd come upon it, which gave them the opportunity to destroy it. He could only hope that would stave off a future Darkspawn problem in the general Kirkwall area.
The wet squelch his axe made as it hit the Broodmotherâs side was not particularly encouraging, and for a moment, he wondered if heâd actually cut the thing at all, but upon withdrawing the weapon to swing again, he was able to see that he had, if not as much as such a blow would usually occasion. Looking at the thing, he imagined it could hemorrhage quite a lot of fluid before it even started to weaken in any considerableâ
A tentacle erupted in his blind spot, and before he had time to react to the sound of it, which was a sort of damp sucking rather than the sound of stone being moved, it had seized him around the middle and was pulling. Lucien dug in as well as he could, stabbing the short spear point of his axe down into the fleshy flooring and gritting his teeth as he tried to maintain his footing, but the thing was unnaturally strong, and the ground slick. The spear-point actually snapped off, and with that, the majority of his hold was gone, and he flung against the far wall with a great clanking of armor. At least heâd managed to maintain his hold on the axe, and he was on his feet again quickly, blinking spots from his eyes and slowly forcing his lungs to expand. Having the wind knocked out of oneself was not a frequent experience for someone so steady on his feet, but that Darkspawn was definitely bigger than he was.
This time, his sortie forward was blocked by no fewer than five of the undulating appendages, and he was at least grimly relieved that he seemed to be holding its attention.
When Nostariel fired her first arrow, Ashton added his own behind it. "Yes ma'am," he added with a wink-- though his smile absent, traded in for a suitably focused frown. He slipped into harmony with the pretty little warden at his side, producing a steady and constant stream of arrows pestering the darkspawn. Unfortunately, he traded in precision for speed, looking to harass and maim if not outright kill. "Body shots," He reminded his once-student. For more area to hit, and less of a chance to miss. Damn fine archers they may have been, but they were simply mortal.
He followed Nostariel's suggestion to the letter, backing up as he fired, and he noted the walls at their sides. A bottleneck he noted to himself. Nostariel made a fine hunter, he thought, as he added another arrow to the fray. He'd also caught sight of Ithilian on the other end of the cave picking 'Spawn off from behind. So for him, it made all the sense in the world for him to pucker his lips and let loose a high-pitched whistle to attempt to draw even more attention, or even regain the attentions of the 'Spawn that decided that there were other-- better targets.
The pair of archers continued to back up as quickly as possible while still drawing the Darkspawn attention to themselves, which was working quite effectively. In fact, if they hadnât had Ithilianâs assistance from behind, it probably would have been too effective. As the corridor narrowed, however, it became clear that they just couldnât fire quite fast enough. âCover me, Ash,â Notariel said shortly, ducking around behind him to build a spell. It wasnât one she was terribly practiced with, but they were going to need it, and having so many enemies densely packed into one area provided the perfect opportunity. She hoped his melee wasnât as rusty was hers, because there was no getting around the fact that this took half a minute, at least.
Slinging her bow over her shoulder, she drew her hands together, concentrating as much magic as she could between her palms. Fire was not really her best element, but it was easier than lightning, and those were her two options, so fire it would be. Dipping deep into the Fade, she weakened the Veil just over the heads of the Darkspawn and summoned the crashing spheres of flame, her face set into an expression of deep concentration. She had to, by the very nature of the spell, stop paying such close attention to what was going on around her, but she was rewarded for it when the first of the flames descended, smashing into a knot of âSpawn about three quarters of the way back. Several more followed, the radius close enough to where they stood that their faces and exposed flesh were awash in hot air, but that was it. It shouldnât be far enough back to bother Ithilian, either, but unfortunately that also meant it would be no help at all for whatever Lucien was doing.
The firestorm wreaking its particular brand of havoc, Nostariel returned to firing bare arrows from behind Ash, needing time before enough of her mana returned to her to do anything more significant than a simple healing spell. One of those, she was smart enough to always keep in reserve, these days. The lack of such foresight had once cost her dearly, and she never intended to let that happen again.
The rearmost of the darkspawn were able to halt their advance rather than throw themselves into the firestorm Nostariel had created, but they found a different kind of storm awaiting them when they turned back. Ithilian had both blades in hand when he charged into them from behind, spearing one of them with each hand with his first attack, one through the stomach, the other through the lower back. The force was enough to lift them entirely off the ground before Ithilian planted them back down on it. He withdrew the swords and turned to deal with the others.
Unfortunately, he only managed to cleave through two more before the long reach of the broodmother found him. A tentacle burst forth from the ground in front of him, knocking both he and the darkspawn nearest to him off balance momentarily. It wasn't long enough to halt him entirely, though, and the appendage soon found twin blades repeatedly slicing sideways across it, until it vanished back down into the earth. The second one, however, came from behind, sliding under his arms and wrapping tightly around his chest. He barely had enough time to stab down at it before he was thrown bodily in the direction of the broodmother herself.
He slammed shoulder first into the chest of the great darkspawn, sending his swords clattering to the ground. Thankfully, events progressed a little too quickly for him to think about how disgusting his predicament was. The broodmother caught him before he could fall with a meaty hand, grabbing him and pulling him towards her face. It looked like she was preparing for some kind of roar, or perhaps to just bite his head off, but Ithilian had quite frankly had enough. He pulled Parshaara from its sheath on his chest and tried to stab it into the broodmother's head. Her skull was a little too thick for that, sadly, but the enchantment took effect, igniting a burst of flame around the darkspawn's face. She howled from the pain and dropped Ithilian back to the earth. Sheathing the dagger, he retrieved his swords and fell back away from it several paces. This was not going to be a battle he would be able to forget any time soon.
It had taken Lucien considerable time to hack his way through the wall of tentacles before him, especially whilst trying to avoid being tossed about by any of them, and about midway through, he had the thought that smaller, lighter weapons would have been better for this part, but he was glad of the axe because the main body of the creature was going to need a considerable amount of seeing-to. By the time the last fell away and he was able to discern what was going on more than three feet in front of him, Ithilian was already stabbing downwards, and he was almost positive he recognized one of Rilienâs finer enchantments at work in the flames, though perhaps he only thought so because he knew so few enchanters.
As the rogue went down, the knight stepped up, so to speak, lifting his axe up and over his head in a woodsmanâs cleave with as much force behind it as he could muster without risking overextension, and this time, the damage was not negligible, carving into the quivering flesh of the creature and causing no small amount of blood to spurt from either side of the axehead, though not with nearly enough force to pose a risk of hitting himself or his comrade and tainting them. That earned him a reaction, and two tentacles at once grabbed for him. He twisted out of the way for the first, but the second caught him by the ankle and yanked his feet out from underneath him. He landed hard on his dominant shoulder with a grunt.
âTenacious,â he muttered beneath his breath, finding his feet with a little more difficulty than last time. He wasnât exactly meant to be tossed around, but he didnât always fight men these days, and some things were quite capable of it. Normally, a challenge would have been something he welcomed, but⊠in the end, this was executionerâs work, and he could find nothing to relish in it. It was simply grim business, and he would rather have done with it and begone from here. Of course, that was not happening until Nostariel was well ready, but he certainly took none of the joy from this that he had from the dragon.
With his bow in one hand, Ashton slid the machete he carried on his back out of its sheath, and gave a fierce chop to the nearest darkspawn. The blade was a viciously sharp as he kept it, and the Genlock's skin and bone offered no resistance, at least not until it reached the top of its ribcage. Placing a foot square on the dead thing's chest, he pushed, and threw the lifeless corpse back into its companions. Their and Ithilian's combined assault saw to it that the Darkspawn threat dwindled down to a mere trickle-- enough so that he could force their way through.
"Keep close!" He spared for Nostariel before shutting his mouth anew. It would do no good if he contracted the taint now of all places. The machete came across this time, burying itself in a genlock's stocky torso, and this one too was thrown off. Another had its hands lopped off before its skull was split. Once a sword was falling far too fast for him to react, and he blinked in the moment of expected pain, only to feel a weight on his shoulder. Initially he believed shock was in play, but he opened his eyes to realize the blade was just sitting on his shoulder before lazily falling backward. Its owner had a newly minted arrow in its forehead. He gave a silent thanks for Nostariel, and made a mental note to give her a hug afterward.
On the otherside, Ashton quickly dropped out from Nostariel's front and spun around, putting his back against hers. Displaying acrobatics and foresight more common from their tranquil friend, Ashton's machete arced over Nostariel's head in his spin, cleaving the tentacle that'd popped up behind them in two. Closing his eyes and throwing his face to the side, he escaped the worst of the resulting blood spatter, though thick globules rolled down his cheeks. He forced his mouth shut even hard, and bit his lips together for good measure. Though he didn't speak, his meaning was clear. He'd have her back, while she focused on the Broodmother. Predatory eyes searched for where the next attack would come from, and his stance as protective as ever.
Nostariel took the cue for what it was. They needed to end this, and quickly. She was basically out of magic, but arrows alone werenât going to do anything to this creature. So, with trepidation and a tightening feeling in her throat, she drew back her bow, charged the arrow, and let it fly. Thankfully, the head was well-enough made, and the shot well-enough placed, that it managed to pierce skin, giving it the hold that it really needed to do the actual damage, which was the equivalent of a point-blank fireball. Sheâd aimed for the side Lucien wasnât on, and though Ithilian may well have bee able to feel the heat, it would not have done him any harm.
The result was more than sheâd dared hope for; the left side of the broodmother was blackened and charred, the burns slowly oozing some fluid or another, and stretching from where the thing was attached to the wall all the way forward to its middle. âThatâs all Iâve got!â she shouted, warning the two men closest that the rest of the work was, unfortunately, theirs for the completion.
The executioner's work seemed to be falling to Ithilian, and he did his best not to hesitate. The broodmother had largely forgotten about him once the Chevalier's axe bit into it, and Nostariel's fire magic did its work. This left the elf free of the annoying, wretched tentacles, free to maneuver into position for what needed to be done. It was not with a battle cry that he charged the creature once more, but rather with a set jaw and lips closed into a hard line, the look in his eyes cold and unflinching. He could not flinch when fighting monstrosities such as this.
While the creature was still reeling from the previous blows, Ithilian flipped his blades backwards in his hands and leapt as high as he could at it, bursting through the lingering smoke of the fireball, plunging both swords into the upper chest area of the broodmother, near the throat. It recoiled and went to grab at him, but he'd already moved on up, his feet finding purchase somewhere amidst the folds of skin while he tore out the first blade, and struck higher. He managed to stab somewhere into its face, but one blow was not nearly enough for Ithilian's liking. There would be no doubt that this thing was as dead as dead could be. He would see to it.
He brought his other blade up, alternating which sword he plunged in and which one he pulled free. With a blank face he stabbed through the eyes, forehead, mouth, throat... each brought a new splash of blood on him, until he was spattered with blood from head to toe. Finally, when the broodmother failed to react to at least three stabs in a row, Ithilian halted, breathing heavily through his nose, still wary of opening his mouth. Certain it was dead, he withdrew both of his blades and jumped backwards away from it, stumbling slightly when he hit the ground and going to one knee. He remained in a kneeling position, wiping the blood from his face with his sleeve.
Ithilian hoped that whatever person that thing had once been, they did not suffer overmuch.
Sheâd only ever fought one Broodmother before, and that was in a strike squad of thirty Wardens, whoâd known where the thing was ahead of time. This was⊠much more dire than that, though a look to her side did allow her to catch sight of Ithilian, and she waved frantically to catch his attention, still hidden behind the rock formation. She mimed the action of drawing a bow with one hand, then held a palm out flat and moved it up and down a few times, trying to communicate that they needed to pick off as many from a distance as possible. Chewing her lip for a moment, she also made a motion for a large size, trying to refer to the Broodmother, then made a swooping motion with one of her hands, waggling her fingers when they went vertical. How was one supposed to convey that the thing had tentacles which came up from the ground?
Whether or not any of this was communicated properly, they were running out of time. They wouldnât stay unnoticed forever, especially not her, and the Warden unslung her bow from her back. If she could start this off with an explosion and kick up some debris, chances were good most of the guards would make for her and Ash, which should allow Ithilian and Lucien at least some opportunity to get at the Broodmother. It would be important not to just allow it⊠her⊠to be able to pick them off from afar, she remembered that much. Sliding an arrow from her quiver, she nocked it and pulled back, infusing the fireball spell into it and arcing it up, not particularly caring where in the throng of them it hit.
The explosion did indeed generate cover, and the sounds of Spawn armor clinking and their gurgling growls were evidence that many of them were indeed headed their way. âOkay, now we back up and let them come to us,â she said hastily, and did just that, putting another arrow to the string and waiting for the first pursuer to emerge from the dust cloud.
With Nostariel making the leading attack, the entirety of the darkspawn group's attention was shifted in the direction of Ashton and herself, leaving Ithilian and Lucien with an opening. The natural instinct to protect friends would lead them to attack the many spawn rather than the Broodmother, but that wasn't the wisest course here. While they were all distracted with the horde, the Broodmother could attack from a distance, and make it much easier for them to be overwhelmed. She needed to be dealt with, or at least occupied, while the masses were wiped out.
"Do what you can to the Broodmother," Ithilian suggested, drawing an arrow back and peering through the debris. "I'll cover the others." Lucien was the natural choice to take a target head on, while Ithilian could do massive amounts of damage to an unprepared enemy. These darkspawn, all with their backs turned, were just such an enemy. He loosed the first arrow into the spinal column of a hurlock, drawing a second. Ithilian knew exactly what a Broodmother was capable of, having inquired against his better judgment about the fates of those taken by darkspawn. Whoever this thing had once been, he would see to it that they put them to rest here.
And he was fairly certain that he now knew where Darkspawn came from. Some things were better left unknown, indeed. He did not particularly relish the thought of trying to fight the thing, especially not alone, but heâd never said no to a challenge that he could recall. Even if the challenge was faintly sickening him to think about. Perhaps it was best if he simply didnât think about it too much. Nodding to indicate that he had heard and consented to Ithilianâs strategy, Lucien peeled off from the other side and tried to approach the massive Darkspawn creature from the flank. Not being privy to any of Nostarielâs improvised sign-language, he had little idea of what to expect, and approached as cautiously as one could, while still intending to get up-close and kill something.
It was perhaps the only reason he was able to jump back in time to avoid being skewered by one of the tentacles that emerged from the ground, shooting straight up vertically and barely missing his chin. Assuming that it was somehow connected to the similarly-colored creature he was going for, Lucien swung his axe in a broad horizontal sweep, biting deep into the appendage. Another two swings had it retracting with something like a hiss, and he was back in his way to the creature itself.
The ground beneath his feet was vaguely⊠squishy, and he had the sudden thought that it was perhaps fortunate that he had a strong stomach, lest he might lose the last thing heâd eaten considering the implications of this twisted parody of motherhood and the environment it was nested in. At least theyâd come upon it, which gave them the opportunity to destroy it. He could only hope that would stave off a future Darkspawn problem in the general Kirkwall area.
The wet squelch his axe made as it hit the Broodmotherâs side was not particularly encouraging, and for a moment, he wondered if heâd actually cut the thing at all, but upon withdrawing the weapon to swing again, he was able to see that he had, if not as much as such a blow would usually occasion. Looking at the thing, he imagined it could hemorrhage quite a lot of fluid before it even started to weaken in any considerableâ
A tentacle erupted in his blind spot, and before he had time to react to the sound of it, which was a sort of damp sucking rather than the sound of stone being moved, it had seized him around the middle and was pulling. Lucien dug in as well as he could, stabbing the short spear point of his axe down into the fleshy flooring and gritting his teeth as he tried to maintain his footing, but the thing was unnaturally strong, and the ground slick. The spear-point actually snapped off, and with that, the majority of his hold was gone, and he flung against the far wall with a great clanking of armor. At least heâd managed to maintain his hold on the axe, and he was on his feet again quickly, blinking spots from his eyes and slowly forcing his lungs to expand. Having the wind knocked out of oneself was not a frequent experience for someone so steady on his feet, but that Darkspawn was definitely bigger than he was.
This time, his sortie forward was blocked by no fewer than five of the undulating appendages, and he was at least grimly relieved that he seemed to be holding its attention.
When Nostariel fired her first arrow, Ashton added his own behind it. "Yes ma'am," he added with a wink-- though his smile absent, traded in for a suitably focused frown. He slipped into harmony with the pretty little warden at his side, producing a steady and constant stream of arrows pestering the darkspawn. Unfortunately, he traded in precision for speed, looking to harass and maim if not outright kill. "Body shots," He reminded his once-student. For more area to hit, and less of a chance to miss. Damn fine archers they may have been, but they were simply mortal.
He followed Nostariel's suggestion to the letter, backing up as he fired, and he noted the walls at their sides. A bottleneck he noted to himself. Nostariel made a fine hunter, he thought, as he added another arrow to the fray. He'd also caught sight of Ithilian on the other end of the cave picking 'Spawn off from behind. So for him, it made all the sense in the world for him to pucker his lips and let loose a high-pitched whistle to attempt to draw even more attention, or even regain the attentions of the 'Spawn that decided that there were other-- better targets.
The pair of archers continued to back up as quickly as possible while still drawing the Darkspawn attention to themselves, which was working quite effectively. In fact, if they hadnât had Ithilianâs assistance from behind, it probably would have been too effective. As the corridor narrowed, however, it became clear that they just couldnât fire quite fast enough. âCover me, Ash,â Notariel said shortly, ducking around behind him to build a spell. It wasnât one she was terribly practiced with, but they were going to need it, and having so many enemies densely packed into one area provided the perfect opportunity. She hoped his melee wasnât as rusty was hers, because there was no getting around the fact that this took half a minute, at least.
Slinging her bow over her shoulder, she drew her hands together, concentrating as much magic as she could between her palms. Fire was not really her best element, but it was easier than lightning, and those were her two options, so fire it would be. Dipping deep into the Fade, she weakened the Veil just over the heads of the Darkspawn and summoned the crashing spheres of flame, her face set into an expression of deep concentration. She had to, by the very nature of the spell, stop paying such close attention to what was going on around her, but she was rewarded for it when the first of the flames descended, smashing into a knot of âSpawn about three quarters of the way back. Several more followed, the radius close enough to where they stood that their faces and exposed flesh were awash in hot air, but that was it. It shouldnât be far enough back to bother Ithilian, either, but unfortunately that also meant it would be no help at all for whatever Lucien was doing.
The firestorm wreaking its particular brand of havoc, Nostariel returned to firing bare arrows from behind Ash, needing time before enough of her mana returned to her to do anything more significant than a simple healing spell. One of those, she was smart enough to always keep in reserve, these days. The lack of such foresight had once cost her dearly, and she never intended to let that happen again.
The rearmost of the darkspawn were able to halt their advance rather than throw themselves into the firestorm Nostariel had created, but they found a different kind of storm awaiting them when they turned back. Ithilian had both blades in hand when he charged into them from behind, spearing one of them with each hand with his first attack, one through the stomach, the other through the lower back. The force was enough to lift them entirely off the ground before Ithilian planted them back down on it. He withdrew the swords and turned to deal with the others.
Unfortunately, he only managed to cleave through two more before the long reach of the broodmother found him. A tentacle burst forth from the ground in front of him, knocking both he and the darkspawn nearest to him off balance momentarily. It wasn't long enough to halt him entirely, though, and the appendage soon found twin blades repeatedly slicing sideways across it, until it vanished back down into the earth. The second one, however, came from behind, sliding under his arms and wrapping tightly around his chest. He barely had enough time to stab down at it before he was thrown bodily in the direction of the broodmother herself.
He slammed shoulder first into the chest of the great darkspawn, sending his swords clattering to the ground. Thankfully, events progressed a little too quickly for him to think about how disgusting his predicament was. The broodmother caught him before he could fall with a meaty hand, grabbing him and pulling him towards her face. It looked like she was preparing for some kind of roar, or perhaps to just bite his head off, but Ithilian had quite frankly had enough. He pulled Parshaara from its sheath on his chest and tried to stab it into the broodmother's head. Her skull was a little too thick for that, sadly, but the enchantment took effect, igniting a burst of flame around the darkspawn's face. She howled from the pain and dropped Ithilian back to the earth. Sheathing the dagger, he retrieved his swords and fell back away from it several paces. This was not going to be a battle he would be able to forget any time soon.
It had taken Lucien considerable time to hack his way through the wall of tentacles before him, especially whilst trying to avoid being tossed about by any of them, and about midway through, he had the thought that smaller, lighter weapons would have been better for this part, but he was glad of the axe because the main body of the creature was going to need a considerable amount of seeing-to. By the time the last fell away and he was able to discern what was going on more than three feet in front of him, Ithilian was already stabbing downwards, and he was almost positive he recognized one of Rilienâs finer enchantments at work in the flames, though perhaps he only thought so because he knew so few enchanters.
As the rogue went down, the knight stepped up, so to speak, lifting his axe up and over his head in a woodsmanâs cleave with as much force behind it as he could muster without risking overextension, and this time, the damage was not negligible, carving into the quivering flesh of the creature and causing no small amount of blood to spurt from either side of the axehead, though not with nearly enough force to pose a risk of hitting himself or his comrade and tainting them. That earned him a reaction, and two tentacles at once grabbed for him. He twisted out of the way for the first, but the second caught him by the ankle and yanked his feet out from underneath him. He landed hard on his dominant shoulder with a grunt.
âTenacious,â he muttered beneath his breath, finding his feet with a little more difficulty than last time. He wasnât exactly meant to be tossed around, but he didnât always fight men these days, and some things were quite capable of it. Normally, a challenge would have been something he welcomed, but⊠in the end, this was executionerâs work, and he could find nothing to relish in it. It was simply grim business, and he would rather have done with it and begone from here. Of course, that was not happening until Nostariel was well ready, but he certainly took none of the joy from this that he had from the dragon.
With his bow in one hand, Ashton slid the machete he carried on his back out of its sheath, and gave a fierce chop to the nearest darkspawn. The blade was a viciously sharp as he kept it, and the Genlock's skin and bone offered no resistance, at least not until it reached the top of its ribcage. Placing a foot square on the dead thing's chest, he pushed, and threw the lifeless corpse back into its companions. Their and Ithilian's combined assault saw to it that the Darkspawn threat dwindled down to a mere trickle-- enough so that he could force their way through.
"Keep close!" He spared for Nostariel before shutting his mouth anew. It would do no good if he contracted the taint now of all places. The machete came across this time, burying itself in a genlock's stocky torso, and this one too was thrown off. Another had its hands lopped off before its skull was split. Once a sword was falling far too fast for him to react, and he blinked in the moment of expected pain, only to feel a weight on his shoulder. Initially he believed shock was in play, but he opened his eyes to realize the blade was just sitting on his shoulder before lazily falling backward. Its owner had a newly minted arrow in its forehead. He gave a silent thanks for Nostariel, and made a mental note to give her a hug afterward.
On the otherside, Ashton quickly dropped out from Nostariel's front and spun around, putting his back against hers. Displaying acrobatics and foresight more common from their tranquil friend, Ashton's machete arced over Nostariel's head in his spin, cleaving the tentacle that'd popped up behind them in two. Closing his eyes and throwing his face to the side, he escaped the worst of the resulting blood spatter, though thick globules rolled down his cheeks. He forced his mouth shut even hard, and bit his lips together for good measure. Though he didn't speak, his meaning was clear. He'd have her back, while she focused on the Broodmother. Predatory eyes searched for where the next attack would come from, and his stance as protective as ever.
Nostariel took the cue for what it was. They needed to end this, and quickly. She was basically out of magic, but arrows alone werenât going to do anything to this creature. So, with trepidation and a tightening feeling in her throat, she drew back her bow, charged the arrow, and let it fly. Thankfully, the head was well-enough made, and the shot well-enough placed, that it managed to pierce skin, giving it the hold that it really needed to do the actual damage, which was the equivalent of a point-blank fireball. Sheâd aimed for the side Lucien wasnât on, and though Ithilian may well have bee able to feel the heat, it would not have done him any harm.
The result was more than sheâd dared hope for; the left side of the broodmother was blackened and charred, the burns slowly oozing some fluid or another, and stretching from where the thing was attached to the wall all the way forward to its middle. âThatâs all Iâve got!â she shouted, warning the two men closest that the rest of the work was, unfortunately, theirs for the completion.
The executioner's work seemed to be falling to Ithilian, and he did his best not to hesitate. The broodmother had largely forgotten about him once the Chevalier's axe bit into it, and Nostariel's fire magic did its work. This left the elf free of the annoying, wretched tentacles, free to maneuver into position for what needed to be done. It was not with a battle cry that he charged the creature once more, but rather with a set jaw and lips closed into a hard line, the look in his eyes cold and unflinching. He could not flinch when fighting monstrosities such as this.
While the creature was still reeling from the previous blows, Ithilian flipped his blades backwards in his hands and leapt as high as he could at it, bursting through the lingering smoke of the fireball, plunging both swords into the upper chest area of the broodmother, near the throat. It recoiled and went to grab at him, but he'd already moved on up, his feet finding purchase somewhere amidst the folds of skin while he tore out the first blade, and struck higher. He managed to stab somewhere into its face, but one blow was not nearly enough for Ithilian's liking. There would be no doubt that this thing was as dead as dead could be. He would see to it.
He brought his other blade up, alternating which sword he plunged in and which one he pulled free. With a blank face he stabbed through the eyes, forehead, mouth, throat... each brought a new splash of blood on him, until he was spattered with blood from head to toe. Finally, when the broodmother failed to react to at least three stabs in a row, Ithilian halted, breathing heavily through his nose, still wary of opening his mouth. Certain it was dead, he withdrew both of his blades and jumped backwards away from it, stumbling slightly when he hit the ground and going to one knee. He remained in a kneeling position, wiping the blood from his face with his sleeve.
Ithilian hoped that whatever person that thing had once been, they did not suffer overmuch.