A Walk In The Winter Woods (Belenos, Iollan, Galaeron)
Mar 18, 2015 6:13:11 GMT
Post by dualscepters on Mar 18, 2015 6:13:11 GMT
As Belenos returned to the corpse, Iollan pulled a creature from worlds beyond to the snowy path. It was almost wolf-like in appearance, yet not, and certainly larger than one. Darkness covered its body, thin strands of black chitin that was soft when it wanted to be.
It was not now, as it snarled not from its snout but from its neck, where a gaping mouth dripped bright teal onto the snow. It was not pleased - but Iollan was expecting this, pushing back on the tendrils of fear in his mind. Not today, he told the eyeless familiar by will rather than by speech, and the tendrils receded. Mouths across its body opened and closed, spots of teal that shifted without any pattern. What do you want?
Iollan showed it his thoughts, as he rummaged through his bag. And try, he added, to not scare my companions to death. I feed you plenty. Quit with the fear thing already.
Belenos shouted his name. Iollan rolled his eyes, the motion hidden by his position with his head turned away from the healer and towards the Tormentor. It needed no more prompting. It crouched, then launched itself forward, its initial bound landing it barely a meter from Belenos before racing down the path, kicking up snow that did little to slow it down. The Woodlock had reached the Grunt first, branches wrapping it around the already injured ent’s trunk, squeezing. The Tormentor launched itself directly into the Grunt. Wood crunched under its force, and it leapt back, skidding slightly in the snow. The Grunt stumbled backwards, a hole and cracked wood left where it had been hit. It dropped the dark elf, and the Woodlock pressed its advantage.
The Tormentor, drawn to the stranger’s terror and pain, shifted over to him. Iollan, even at this distance, immediately scolded and bore down on it with his will. The familiar huffed, low and feral. Careful to not drip any of its corrosive drool onto the elf, it instead placed itself between the stranger and the now fighting ents.
(A Tormentor is the thing on the rug in this picture. Sorry I can't draw an actual ref right now, hopefully my description clears things up :'D)
It was not now, as it snarled not from its snout but from its neck, where a gaping mouth dripped bright teal onto the snow. It was not pleased - but Iollan was expecting this, pushing back on the tendrils of fear in his mind. Not today, he told the eyeless familiar by will rather than by speech, and the tendrils receded. Mouths across its body opened and closed, spots of teal that shifted without any pattern. What do you want?
Iollan showed it his thoughts, as he rummaged through his bag. And try, he added, to not scare my companions to death. I feed you plenty. Quit with the fear thing already.
Belenos shouted his name. Iollan rolled his eyes, the motion hidden by his position with his head turned away from the healer and towards the Tormentor. It needed no more prompting. It crouched, then launched itself forward, its initial bound landing it barely a meter from Belenos before racing down the path, kicking up snow that did little to slow it down. The Woodlock had reached the Grunt first, branches wrapping it around the already injured ent’s trunk, squeezing. The Tormentor launched itself directly into the Grunt. Wood crunched under its force, and it leapt back, skidding slightly in the snow. The Grunt stumbled backwards, a hole and cracked wood left where it had been hit. It dropped the dark elf, and the Woodlock pressed its advantage.
The Tormentor, drawn to the stranger’s terror and pain, shifted over to him. Iollan, even at this distance, immediately scolded and bore down on it with his will. The familiar huffed, low and feral. Careful to not drip any of its corrosive drool onto the elf, it instead placed itself between the stranger and the now fighting ents.
(A Tormentor is the thing on the rug in this picture. Sorry I can't draw an actual ref right now, hopefully my description clears things up :'D)