The head of the great axe, blood stained, cleaves through the air almost graciously as the it slices cleanly through the neck of the nearest Bugbear. The huge muscular Half-Orc roars out in the midst of his huge rage. His face stained in the blood of his fallen enemies. He had run on ahead whilst the rest of his party dealt with the small Bugbear hoard in the makeshift barracks where him and Pokken had fallen earlier that day. Revenge was all that was on the orcs mind and that Drow was gonna taste the cold unforgiving steel of his axe. A mere moment ago he had managed to find the Drow and inflict serious wounds on him but the Drow had been reinforced by more Bugbears. Amongst the chaos of battle between Deckard, the Drow and the bugbears, the Drow had managed to escape the half- orcs grasp and fled. Deckard now found himself confronted by a blockade of Bugbears.
“I don’t care how many of you there are you won’t stop me ending that Drow!” Decks snarled through his gritted sharp half-orc teeth. The nearest Bugbear takes a small step back. Decks grins and charges in swinging his huge axe back behind his huge muscular shoulder and up over his head. His huge arm muscles bulge as the axe accelerates down towards the Bugbear. The Bugbears eyes open wide as the axe cuts into his collar slicing, like a hot knife through butter, diagonally and exiting from the opposite armpit. The axe clangs as the metal head hits the floor. A moment passes, time frozen, then, the Bugbear coughs and blood splatters from its mouth. It drops to its knees and crumples to the floor the upper torso cleaved in two. Decks raises up straight a grin on his face. Fire in his eyes. The sound of clanking armour and rapid footsteps comes from the corridor behind him. The bugbears blocking the hulking half- orc’s path begin to shuffle backwards. Their clawed hands wringing the handle of their morning stars nervously. Their eyes widen with fear as three figures become visible in the darkness of the corridor. A tall human with gleaming gold armour rushes towards the fray followed by a slender tiefling with red glowing eyes and a small Gnome crossbow readied aimed at the Bugbears “Guess the cavalry decided to show up.”
The Drow collapses to the ground in front of the Black spiders feet. “Master please help I am in no shape for another confrontation.” The Black Spider stares deep in thought at the grand steps the Drow had come hurtling down, deep in thought. His eyes narrowed as he twirls his staff in his hand. The sounds of battle, steel clashing with steel, are beginning to draw closer to the great hall. The Black Spiders eyes startle open and he whirls around his black cloak dancing behind him.
“You, druid can you heal him?” Atticus shook his head he could heal him but he did not want to.
” He lies master, I can read his thoughts,” the Drow snapped. Atticus glared at the Drow.
“Do not lie to me.” The Black spider raised his staff and the four spiders began to become more frantic.
“I can’t heal him directly. That is what I meant.” Atticus quickly replied. “I can create an area that can restore his injuries but he must enter it unaided.” With that the Druid mutters some inaudible words and waves his hands in deliberate, practiced movements. An area next to the Drow begins to glow. A small circle of light bursts into existence shimmering on the hard stone floor. The Drow pulls himself to his feet, slowly, pain coursing through his broken body. On shaking legs the Drow stumbles into the circle of light. Instantaneously the pain is eradicated from his body. The cuts slowly meld together and the limp arm cricks and snaps back into place. The Drow steps out of the circle looking at his once broken arm flexing his fingers.
“That’s more like it. I’m ready for them now master.”
A high screech pierces the silence that no one had noticed had beheld the great hall. The fighting outside the hall had long subsided. The black spider and his followers, including Atticus, whirled around to see the golden figure of Pokken retrieving a glowing hammer from the thorax of one of the giant spiders. Crackling electricity emanates from the head of the hammer. The spider writhes and squirms as the electricity dances around its body. The Spider falls crashing to the ground. A bolt flies at the black spider from the steps narrowly missing him. Atticus raises his hands high above his head speaking in an unknown druidic tongue. Thick fog begins to shroud Atticus, The Black Spider and his followers hiding them from view. Atticus then lowers his right hand whispers a chant and flicks his arm. The healing circle darts across the great hall towards Pokken and his companions.
“He’s trying to heal them master! He’s Lied!” The Drow screams. The Black spider raises his Staff and brings it crashing down on the floor, green sparks danced from the contact. The Spiders all let out a deafening screech in unison.
“Then he dies. KILL THEM, KILL THEM ALL!!”