(Outside the Leywellin mines)Ambush on the Outskirts(Rayage)

[Antar]

15th day of Fall, 511av

His hand lay upon the hilt of his sword as he prepared himself a moment, his eyes looking towards the hills as his instincts screamed at him to run. There was a brief bit of cover a distance off, about a hundred meters off, amidst some old rusted mining carts that were long covered over in moss.

But he didn't run. Not really.

Why would he be scared of some petching brigands barking up the wrong tree? That was if whatever out there was a brigand, if it was wolves he wondered if he could get a new fur pelt out of the deal. 'Of course, that was only if it was something out there that required his attention in the first place, and his paranoia wasn't playing tricks on his mind-' His thoughts came to a dead stop as a poorly shot arrow thunked into the ground about six paces from him.

'Petch.'

Like a jackrabbit he was off, dashing towards the small bit of cover he had seen, and his heart beat in his ears as things were beginning to start off in the worst way possible. At his heels more arrows flew, barely missing him as he concentrated on one thing: running for his life, as he lifted his legs, kept his chest up and swung his arms really wide. The ground beneath was devoured under his long stride , and soon enough he was ducking into cover , trying to keep himself as small a target as possible.

He heard a bit of cursing from the hills as his body went out of sight, but he didn't care about that right now. All he cared about was that someone had attacked him; which meant they really needed to die so he could be left alone. Knocking an arrow to the string of his bow he took a few short breaths to steady himself before peeking his head up above the cover afforded by his position. His eyes scanned for movement in the hills above for just a brief second or two before pulling his head back down.

Whomever was out there, he couldn't tell where they were coming from.

'Petch.'

[Antar]

The circumstances weren't good. Not to the best of his tactical knowledge; he was alone, possibly outnumbered and to boot; he had no idea of the enemy's position. The best thing to do in these circumstance boiled down to two choices; to try and stay in cover, or make a run for it.

If he did make a run for it, it would mean leaving the nuit behind in the mines, and he still had yet to acquire any concrete knowledge on this 'alchemy' thing.

'Petch.'

Why him? Why today of all things?

He knew one thing though: whatever the resasongs for this attack he was going to make them all die later. Then make their families die, and then anyone they held dear. No one attacked him without some form of repercussions, even if he had to flee to fight another day. But he hated fleeing, even if it was the best option presented to him. It made him feel like he had no control.

That he was helpless.

He hated that feeling with a cold passion that could not be explained by any curse in any language he had ever heard of... and that made him angry.

The enemy had the tactical advantage of being in higher ground, if he stayed put, eventually they would manuever for a clear shot. That meant there was only one thing left for Antar to do; he'd have to take the fight to them and that meant getting up into the hills as quickly as possible.

'Petch.'

Diving out of cover he made a beeline for the nearest set of rocks, about a hundred yards away and ran for his life... again.

[Antar]

Soon enough , amidst the chaos, Antar's feet would propel him towards a bit of cover near a small outcropping in the neighboring hills. The cover above was suitable enough for stopping arrows coming down on his head.

Like many a fight, this turned into a waiting game.

A testing of time, patience , and luck as he began to wait out his attackers.

Within the first bell, three corpses were piled upon the start of the firmament, each one feathered with arrows from his bow. By the second bell they had tried to smoke him out with a fire bundle thrown into the mix, but a quick bit of thinking with his Res snuffed out the flames and gave him something more to burn later. By two and a half bells, two more bodies had been added, one with a thrown kukri knife imbedded in its chest, and the other with a quick clamor of swords.

Stil, still Antar knew it wasn't enough. Even though amongst the more calm moments he would chew a piece of salted meat and drink some water to keep his spirits up. They would send the weaker in first to flush him out, and if that didn't work then the waiting game would set in. Time would pass, as they waited for him to tire, or make a mistake. Soon though, it would be dark, and he would have a chance to escape, he couldn't expect help from anyone else, much less the nuit who had ventured into the caverns.

By now, he expected Rayage to have been long gone... but with nightfall, he pondered his chances of slipping out would improve immensely... so he waited, for time to pass as syna's light sunk slowly in the sky.

[Rayage]

Light flooded into the nuits eyes. Bright daylight staggered the fellow as he emerged from the cave. Shielding his eyes with one hand raised, the hand which used to hold the stone map. Destroyed to his dismay by the ghosts who inhabited the place… Thinking back he was lucky to have made to out, but as Fate would conspire he would have to, one day, travel the depths of the mines again, retrieve the body and fulfill his promise. Along with another adventure… possibly. We will see where time takes this nuit on his never ending journey. He had survived this long, why stop now?

Once his eyes were adjusted Rayage took some time to look over his new weapon in daylight. The many different details engraved on both the blade and put into the sheath was amazing. His hand gingerly ran over the carvings and embroideries. Ray could respect something like this. He could only imagine what it looked like in its prime. This blade truly was something special, and must have a lot of history behind it. He began to wonder about it. Though he dismissed those thoughts from his mind as he took a moment to look around and inspect the area. Anthony wasn’t anywhere to be found. Well, who would have expected him to wait? He is probably back in Sunberth right now doing whatever it is he does.

Not putting much thought into it the nuit began to wander, H1-A perched on his shoulder. It seems that nightfall would be close at hand. The shadows of the night were already starting to show themselves. Dark things they were, creeping out from the oppression of the setting sun. Only to once again be banished by the light. These shadows, as Ray has come to experience, tend to hide a great number of things. People have a right to be cautious at night. Its only natural, for if you are covered by the darkness of night, then so are others… and who knows what else?

Choosing a direction he just began to walk. It was possibly the way back to the town, but it could be the exact opposite. Being so new to Sunberth and the surrounding areas he wasn’t sure what path he was on, but he knew that since he chose it that he would find out soon enough. Well, soon enough came, and with it the darkness of night. Shadows now loomed in every place, and the forested area he was in really didn’t help his sense of direction. Nuits were known for their great memory and body snatching habits, but no one ever said they had a natural sense of direction when it came to navigating the wilderness. In the end though, what do they care? They can walk and eventually end up somewhere, just sometimes this somewhere might not be the best of places. This time, yes, this time was a ‘sometime’.

In the distance he could hear wild sounding shouts and he saw the flickering of a light, most likely a firelight. Where, here is somewhere. Advancing with caution the nuit went through the forest, tree by tree he edged closer. There were people there and they were shooting arrows out into the darkness. Where they trying to scare away something? He wondered what they stumbled on, but he felt the need to take caution. They were armed, and he was only a nuit. Drawing his sword he slowly advanced, sword hanging loosely at his side as if the weight of it was too much for him to handle. Not the case, but…

Moving into the light the nuit had a chance to observe them. They were making wild shouts and so absorbed into their shooting that they didn’t notice or hear him approach. Stepping into the light cast by the small fire they had built he looked into the darkness at which they were shooting and asked, ”What are we shooting at?” his voice didn’t sound anything particular. It was just a dull, almost bored sounding, time worn voice.

The sudden noise must have startled them, for they had not noticed or sensed the nuits presence. Jumping back, one of them fell over and started rolling down the hill. The others turned towards him with their weapons at the ready.

[Antar]

One of the vile cretins didn't even bother to look at Rayage, instead merely grunting, "Yeah, found one of the two bastards that killed our buddy in town. Got two looking out for the other one who went into some cave down there. Hope the bastard ends up dead and never leaves. So far this bloke hasn't even been pried from the hole he's hiding in. Don't get how he reacted so fast neither. Like he knew we was here when that second fella left. The second one sneered and glanced towards the first one asked, "Petching varmints just need to d-" Out of hte corner of his eye the man spotted Rayage. "Oh Shyke Bill it's him! Reaching towards a dagger at his belt the man lunged towards Rayage. Down below them in the crevasse, Antar struggled to stretch his senses outwards, after slowly beginning to inch forwards back towards the front of his hidey hole to glance out to spot his attackers. All he needed was one moment to break out, and get up into the hills. Then he could circle around and take them out, one by one. In order to ensure he had a chance, he began to shield his boots. Letting the gossamer strands of djed twist from his hands and snake around the laces. Coating them with a cloud of energy that vanished as he tasked the shield against sound. Luck, or perhaps fate would serve him well as one rolled downhill towards his position. He tightened his grip on his gladius and pulled it from its sheathe as the blurry figure came to a halt before shakily started to rise on a knee. Lunging to his feet Antar dashed forwards, his sword piercing the back of the man's breast. His blade was used as a lever as his shoulder crashed into the man, hoisting the body high as a human shield as he moved towards a place he could climb up to top the hill. Luck was with him as an arrow thudded into the twitching gurgling corpse's chest, silencing the man forever. Kicking the body off, Antar rolled into the cover of bushes then came to his feet to jumped to grasp a shelf of rock. Pulling himself up and over, the rogue allowed a smile to appear on his face as he disappeared from the enemies sight. It was time for the hunted to become the hunter.

[Rayage]

The undead nodded amused by the response he got. Luckily he didn’t run into any trouble in the mines, well living trouble that is. His amusement turned to a gruesome smile as eyed the two who he was having a pleasant conversation with. They were all too unaware that he was there when Antar killed ‘their buddy’ who tried to get Ray. Bastard deserved a slower death than what was given to him. Though the nuit had lesser physical powers than the two in front of him he did have multiple advantages. These things he could use if push came to shove. ”Well, I certainly hope your friends come back from the mine.” he said, nodding solemnly, knowingly that they were probably crushed by the collapsing stone that almost crushed the Alchemist himself. A fitting end for vermin.

He shifted a little as the second one turned, talking, and then recognized him. Well it was fun while it lasted, he supposed. The living were always interesting to talk to because their views on things were so… elementary. It was the kind of amusement one gets when talking to a child and then they say something funny. That was the kind of amusement that Ray got from regular interactions. Little did they ever surprise him anymore. It was sad. They were all after the same thing. Their wants and needs so basic, so predictable… Even the ‘deep’ ones were idiots too. From an immortals eyes everything and everyone was just temporary, as was this situation. Another tick of the clock, a chime of the bell and they would be gone.

The nuit had no time for philosophy right now. That brought his smile to a frown when the man lunged at him, and being the slow nuit that he was, the knife made contact, but didn’t cut him. Luckily for Ray it hit right where one of the isurian steel plates was, but unluckily it ripped the fabric that it was made out of revealing the plate underneath. Annoying. Now his cloak will never be the same and he just bought it. He would have to think of an alchemical solution to that problem later as he shifted and shook the more scientific thoughts from his mind. Now wasn’t time for thinking. Now was time for action.

Dagger and sword, both sharp weapons, but one had more reach and that was the sword. So despite the man’s quick withdraw the point of Rayages sword still found him. The hit wasn’t as hard as a normal persons, in fact a bit weaker because of the state his body was in. His muscles reacted slower, but that just meant he had to plan ahead. Expect, see, open his eyes and react sooner. Or so he would try to make up for his lack of speed and raw power. His eyes were fixed on his opponent. The sword had only graced his right side, and evidence of that was the rip in his clothing and red line marked on his skin. He still wasn’t confident in his use of edged weapons, and in fact, he still preferred the use of magic in situations like this. It was this inability to competently use the sword, or any other physical weapon for that matter, which was the reason he stayed away from all out fights. It seemed that ever since he had arrived in Sunberth these kind of fights were more common than not.

These kinds of fights were the ones that scared him. These were the kind that could end his life, and his research along with it. If he died without completing his research he didn’t know what he would do. It was these kinds of situations that brought the Alchemist back to reality and showed him just how vulnerable he was a Nuit. It was this kind of trip back to reality that Rayage hated most. No, he was above them all! He couldn’t be defeated. What was he thinking? He had magic. Yes, magic, a force well feared and hated, and for good reason too! With it he could do anything, he could do anything, he reassured himself, even create life. Yes, with magic as his sword he will not lose.

The nuit laughed as he saw the one red mark that he had made. He laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. Fear? What do I have to fear from them? There was a certain fire in the nuits eyes. A determination, a fury. He has lived far too long to be taken down here, in this rotten hole called Sunberth. Yes, he readied himself again getting in stance, his sword in front of him. Lunging he stabbed at the man who wielded the dagger, who then jumped back to avoid the undeads blade. At least the man was nimble… Though unlike the living Ray would never tire…

[Antar]

Scrabbling over the ledge of the hillside, Antar rolled deep into the cover of the underbrush. His form faded into the murky shadows with a brief unspoken prayer to akajia to hide his presence. It was times like these that he was thankful for the dimming shadows of the world as night drew ever nearer. He'd been too long holed up in that crevasse. But on the other hand it had not been long enough; For he hadn't killed the rest of these fetid creatures that had dared to attack him. Scrabbling forwards on his elbows, he made his way out of the brush and shimmied towards the nearest bit of cover with a view. An overhanging shelf of rock from a glacial boulder that seemed capable of giving him a view from a higher elevation. Archers like him were trained to use the terrain well and the higher ground he could get the better a view of the area and longer distance he could fire. It was all a matter of time, information, and the ability to follow through on opportunities which presented themselves. When he had crossed twenty feet of hard rock , Noth transferred his meandering to a form of a snake at the first sound of any trouble. A scuffing from farther up the , slowly hunching his way forwards, pushing his body out and then hunching his rear up and forward. "Snake''- crawling like an inchworm served one purpose- it muffled and suppressed the noise of a moving crawl across a hard surface. Rock always was prone to echoing noise, much more then soil would. Lifting his head slightly he rolled his head letting his peripheral vision take in the possibility of any threats within the semi-darkness. Espying none, he holstered his blades, mustered himself into a crouch, and leapt upwards. Hig arms grabbed for purchase at makeshift handholds he could barely see in the shadowed realm. Noth's arms burned with the exertion as his body and feet feet were levered up underneath him before taking the time to get a view of what his eyes could gather. At the sounds of combat from a ways away, Noth's hand reached behind his back to untuck his longbow before drawing an arrow to the string. Looking into the distance, a group of three figures, with their backs slightly turned from his direction were harrying a slow moving figure with a sword which seemed to be in the direction of the mine entrance. Antar couldn't spot any more detail, but he presumed that at the very least the swordsman was helping him. Whether it was on purporse, or not was a matter best left to find out later. Sighting on one of the distant targets, an arrow was drawn back, angled, and let flown. It's fletching arced high intot he air before burrowing itself deep into the chest of one of Rayage's opponents from behind. At the very least it would slow, and distract his opponents for a moment or two. At the most, it might make the injured man fall and stumble into his comrades. But as of that moment, that was all the help that he could give his unknown assistor.

[Rayage]

There was a stare down between the dagger wielding man and Rayage. His attention was so focused, too focused. It was an unfortunate condition of being a world mage. He focused on one task, just one task, this inability to multitask could prove his downfall as he watched the mans movements. They both stared at each other, daring the other to act first. The other man knew that he had to be faster than Rayage to get a hit on, but that would be no problem, and it was only half the problem. The mans weapon, a dagger, was shorter, much shorter, than the weapon that the nuit has drawn. He would not only need to be fast, but skillful enough to land a strike and get out of the way. He had gotten lucky with just that scrape, and perhaps by the movement and the way that Rayage handled the sword he could tell that the nuit was just not that good at wielding the weapon.

Skill or no skill, a novice could kill a master because the point was still sharp. Sharp points kill, and though skill does matter, so does the steel and the length of the weapon. The man was put on the defensive. Rayage was on the defensive as well. Both stagnant. Both cautious as they judged and tried to predict what would happen next. Ray started to plan what he wanted to do to end this stalemate. Time was dragging on and the others buddy looked like he was itching to enter the fray. Ray knew if that happened that it would be the end of him, the end of everything that he worked for, the end of his legacy. That could not be. He couldn’t allow this to happen.

Edging forward he extended his blade, but the man retreated. They were both overly aware of where the others weapons were, and while the man had faster reactions the nuit would never tire. Edging forward again he lunged, but it was parried with a quick slash of the blade knocking his sword sideways. It did not take much energy to deflect a weapon and the dagger-man knew it. The man took the opportunity to take a step forward, gaining ground, but retreated as Ray moved his blade back. This was the game they played, a deadly game of skill, a deadly dance of blades.

Growing tired of the game the man ran forward charging Rayage. The nuit was surprised, but reaction with a flick of his sword, though the man ducked under it and plunged the dagger into the nuit. The nuit groaned in pain, ”Petch” he said, barely a whisper as the white ichor ran down. The wound was in his stomach, and he looked at the man, who smiled, grinning as if he won. Taking a confident step backwards the man took the dagger out and went to stab him again, hitting another plate stopping the blade. ”Too bad Im a nuit.” he said, standing up, fighting past the pain he swung the blade and snagged the man as he went backwards.

Grinning he drew more blood from the man, the wound deeper than the last. ”You cant win with that weapon” he said confidently, ”After I kill you, I will take your body.” slashing again and again, but they were in vain as they were easily dodged. Then one man, the dagger mans friend, groaned as he was stabbed in the back. The man wielding the dagger was caught off guard as he looked towards his friend to see Antar. Taking the moment of distraction Ray lunged forward and plunged his sword into the man, stabbing him through the chest before he stepped back. This battle was won by luck and luck again. He had no real skill, it was all pure luck and circumstance. He was glad to see Antar. Withdrawing his blade from the man, he watched the body fall, collapsing. ”How nice it is to see you again.” he grinned at him, looking around the area to see if there were any more men. Though this seemed to be the very beginning of a camp. There had to be more, and so he didn’t quite drop his guard.