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"DIETRI!" the man yelled, clearly too afraid to move. However, he hadn't been told to keep quiet.
If Riesig glanced over his shoulder he would see an arrow lodge itself into a tree several yards back.
Drevin noted a long moment of silence, then another rustling of leaves. The second rustling seemed more distant than the first.
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Arl didn't mind the yelling, although it looked like the man's friend wasn't one to foolishly charge in. She kept a lookout for projectiles as she continued.
"You need medical attention. Lay on the ground with your wrists together on the ground and your ankles together as well." Her spear would continue to follow the man's neck as he complied (or didn't).
(4)
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06-26-2018, 08:11 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-26-2018, 08:15 PM by Drevin.)
Drevin allowed a slight breath of a curse to spill out of his lips that were twisted into a grimace. He ran as quickly as he could, dashing straight through the bush, willing his axe to fly to his hands as he ran. He wasn't sure how he knew the axe would return to him but he did all the same. Although he was moving quickly Drevin made sure to keep a keen eye out for the accomplice that he had just given a head start to.
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06-26-2018, 08:51 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-26-2018, 08:52 PM by Riesig.)
Riesig didn't like being shot. It hurt! Arl seemed to have this under wraps, so he went after the shooter before they could warn the town. He wrapped his mists around himself to conceal what he was about to do. He shifted and leapt into the river. He was going to find this man. And he was going to hurt him. He began swimming through the water hoping to close the distance before getting out and following on foot.
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Baron appeared from the bushes to grab hold of their captive, not giving him the option of resisting Arl's commands.
"It seems like your friend there has left you for dead. My friends are going after him. Who do you think is faster, Arl?" he asked pointedly.
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06-26-2018, 11:11 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-26-2018, 11:11 PM by DarkAbyssKeeper.)
Drevin made chase through the trees.
Riesig made chase in the water.
It wasn't long before both of them could hear panting.
Arl's prisoner pursed his lips, refusing to respond.
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He followed the panting. This guy wasn't going to get away with shooting him. Riesig had basically kinda forgotten that there was a mission at present. He just wanted to hurt this guy. He would give chase until he could see the guy, then he would attack. Either by lunging and biting him, or throwing shards aimed at his legs if he was too far to lunge at.
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06-27-2018, 01:18 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-27-2018, 01:18 PM by Drevin.)
Drevin didn't have the time to form a real plan as bits of branches tore at his hands and face when he ripped through the bushes but his thoughts stabilized as the sprint became a chase. The half fey was just hitting his stride when he heard the panting of the man he chased. Two contradictory thoughts went through the short man's head at nearly the same time. One was that the longer they ran the bigger his advantage would be over his quarry. The second was that if they didn't stop running soon he would tear out their bowels with his hands. A bit caught off guard by sudden flaring anger Drevin decided that if he saw the enemy he would cast anchor on them.
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Arl briefly glanced her allies as they charged after the remaining bandit. "Probably.. our friends. They're pretty fast, and R - ah, let's get on with the treatment." Arl double casts Weave in order to bind the prisoner's wrists/ankles together and to the ground. The latter binding wasn't very strong, but it would do. She moved on to checking out out the prisoner's wound.
"Say, do either of you have a high-proof alcohol on you, by chance?"
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Riesig and Drevin both converged on the same area of the forest at the same time, finding a terrified looking man in a sleeveless jacket barely holding a large long bow. He glanced over his shoulder towards the converging pair... his face turned ashen.
Arl's prisoner didn't seem to be capable of breaking his bind, which might have had to do with the murmuring Randall's lips were doing. Apparently the Guardman was not a terribly adept caster.
"Rum... back pocket." muttered the bandit.
