ARROWHOLD - 51052 Early Rain (Previous)
With the wind in her back, the witch Tanamarana stands on the plateau in front of Arrowhold as the first militia make their way on top of the cliff, and the smoke from the burning palisade behind her billows towards her. She closes her eyes and focuses her mind. The smoke begins to swirl around her and begins to glow with a pale green hue.
The Kazamer Office Mirk’ Tanin reaches the top of the cliff and looks at his companion Talo.
“Ah, the witch Tanamarana! Phennon’s scouts were right. Men, don your masks!”
The militia quickly don their wood and cloth masks, and charge forward into the clouds.
As the green smoke covers the whole plateau, the remaining plant life begins to decay. But many of the oncoming militiamen seem only mildly impaired by the enchantment. Tanamarana notices the problem in a whim, grasps her tiny bottles and begins to throw them at the exhaustedly charging Kazamer troops. Small explosions harm several of the soldiers.
“I… I cannot sustain this! Mystic, help me!”
With hurtling speed, Sparrow makes her way towards the wooden dragons. Leora grasps one of her spears and as Sparrow charges towards one of the she attempts to strike the dragon. The bird is fast and agile enough to reach one of the dragons, but Leora’s spear bounces off its wooden exterior.
“Argh! This isn’t working!”, she cries in utter frustration.
One of the other dragons flying overhead releases its fire torch, with rope and all, and grazes the wings of Sparrow, which begin to smoke. Hastily, Leora takes Sparrow to the ground and quenches the wing in one of the nearby puddles. Sparrow screeches from pain, but as six other dragons fly towards the couple she extends her wing ready to take Leora up again.
Cyor walks out of the main gate. Smoke envelops the plateau and his initial plan to fire flaming arrows at the wooden dragons appears to have been foiled, as they are engaging with Leora well outside of his range. He looks at the bellowing green clouds in front of the town, enveloping the soldiers as well as Tanamarana.
“This stench is atrocious!”
Then, suddenly, he spots a small group of militia in the front of the cloud, approaching him. He quickly knocks a flaming arrow and shoots towards the group.
The swirling winds around Tanamarana bring the arrow of course, as it gradually veers off course. Realizing the soldiers are headed his way, he quickly stores his bow and gets out a short sword.
Six militiamen come charging out of the vortex, with effort and difficulty, and begin to throw their hand axes towards Cyor. Cyor quickly dives to the side, waiting for the soldiers to close in for melee. Upon approach of the first militiaman he quickly ducks and slashes with his short sword at his unprotected lower legs, before deflecting an incoming blow at his shoulder from a second militiaman with his buckler. He then grabs the arm of a third militiaman and swings him around to topple the fourth militiaman, and then uses his sword to rapidly stab an oncoming fifth and sixth militiaman in quick succession. The fray continues for a few minutes, and although he sustains a few grazes on his back he eventually manages to disable all the soldiers in one way or another.
After the brief showdown, he looks ahead again.
“Astonishing!!”
He is not sure how or why, but somehow the green fog has gradually turned into a large, swirling fire storm. The Kazamer militia cry in agony as the heat suffocates them, and some of their cloth masks suddenly begin to catch fire. Meanwhile, Tanamarana stands there in the middle, motionless, and with her hair gradually begins to burn.
Cyor sprints to the Witch, and quickly pulls at her.
“We need to get out of here. You’re on fire!”
Tanamarana’s eyes open as she stops her focus. Immediately, she realises her wounded state, and lets herself be carried away by Cyor.
With some sudden twists and turns, Sparrow attempts to shake off the wooden dragons behind her. As they pursue her with flaming torches hanging in their claws, the torches themselves begin to swing, and one of the wooden dragons drops its torch. Leora quickly turns Sparrow around, and manages to catch the falling torch, still attached to its rope.
“Now we’re starting!”, she shouts enthusiastically, as she starts swirling the torch around whilst seated on Sparrows back. She strikes one of the wooden dragons with the torch on the wing, and its wing immediately begins to burn, sending the dragon in a downward plummet.
“One down, five to go!”
Meanwhile, Mirk’tanin looks at the battlefield with concern.
“Talo, we’re not off to a great start here. How shall we proceed.”
Talo grins widely.
“Have patience my friend. The flying lady may have an edge, but the witch is done for and their wall is largely destroyed. Send out your infantry to the town as soon as the fire storm subsides. Meanwhile I’ll take care of that flying lady…”