The Quest for Eric: Finale, Part II
Lilith eyes Emrys and mutters a most profound and unladylike curse towards the man. "You think he would help?" She doesn't bother to hide her surprise at this turn of events. Her attention quickly pulled away as she presses her hand to her temple. "Oh bloody... Your Royal Hightness. Your assistance is needed." She holds a hand out to the prince.
Emrys is turning into a wolf near Lilith, which is near an open door to a bedroom. THe wolf is yawning. Down the hall, Bleys and Deirdre are doing terrible things to books.
Deirdre curses Bleys, the book, and this entire place in words that are hardly fit to come out of a princess' mouth.
Corwin releases Lilith's hand, looks around and says, "Dad always said I was too curious for my own good..."
"This," Bleys announces, "is not working out as planned." He adds, "Really, dear sister. Such language." And, at the sound of Corwin's voice down the hall, he frowns, and starts for the catwalk between the rooms.
The air seems to waver and spark around Corwin. The ticking sound gets louder.
Lilith nods. "Then you will fit right in this evening, your highness. It seems there's burning hands and your brother Random has gone missing as well." She looks down to the rest wolf. "And I believe that Emrys may be injured."
Corwin says, "Maybe take it a few steps back... where are we, and why?" He looks around, trying to assess the answer to his own question.
Emrys moves on four unsteady legs and brushes up against Corwin after witnessing the play of energies.
There may not be time for explanations. It becomes apparent that the ticking sound is getting louder, because it is accompanied by the sound of booted feet moving in time.
Deirdre gets up to her feet, which is a small task, considering her wounded leg. She shakes her hand, trying to be rid of some of its pain, as she moves for the hallway herself.
Bleys remarks, apparently on the subject of Corwin's presence, "Well. That certainly got their attention." He looks around for some place to stand and fight.
"Ticking clock and we probably best be going. It may need to wait, I'm afraid. Don't touch the books, your highness" Lilith adds to Corwin. "We need to find the most logical solution to this puzzle."
Bleys interjects, "Or the most illogical, unpredictable solution that we can. The logical solution is probably booby-trapped."
Corwin's scabbard begins to vibrate and buzz. He frowns. Instinct kicks in, and Corwin draws the black blade known as Gram, as well as one of his 1911's.
Emrys growls. A nice, feral sound.
Deirdre slowly withdraws her axe, and looks toward the direction of the ticking sound.
Golden armoured soldiers begin to pour out of the hallways downstairs. Dozens of them.
"Then fire?" Lilith remarks towards Bleys. "It would be nearly sinful to burn a library. Perhaps it may fight to protect itself or present.... oh bloody.."
Bleys unwraps his hand from the handkerchief, and reluctantly tosses the silk square away, sending it drifting down off the catwalk. The pain now largely gone from his face, he draws his sword, holding it in a determined grip. "This," he tells Lilith wryly, "would be a good time to recall your ancestral talents of warding."
Emrys bares his teeth at the approaching army. He lets out a rather fierce howl, the kind of thing one hears in the nightmares of grownups and children alike.
Two dozen soldiers head for the stairs. And behind them... Eric, with a white robed man at his side. The man is curiously nondescript. Average height, average build, brown hair, unmemorable face. Behind them is Random, being carried on a palanquin, fast asleep.
Corwin aims at one of the golden soldiers and pulls the trigger, waiting to see if anything occurs. Even as he does this, Gram seems to be pointing at them, almost of its own will. Almost as if it is dragging Corwin towards the beings.
CLICK. Gunpowder no workie here. Alas.
Deirdre briefly tries to count the number of golden soldiers, and remarks toward the wolfen Emrys, "Yes, exactly like the last time." Then she spies Eric in their number, something fierce comes across her expression.
Emrys barks out something. It might be 'kill the man in white' for those who have spent time with the Weir. The wolf rushes forward. No silver, ordery saber to use now. It's teeth, it's claws, and raw strength to try to bowl over golden soldiers.
Corwin resheaths his pistol and is already leaping forward towards the soldiers, letting Gram go to work on them.
Lilith draws out the silver dagger, though it seems she half turns it in her hand so the pommel is more prominent than the pointy end. She doesn't rush, but approaches in a slow, almost fastidious manner.
Bleys looks around, looks up, and his eyes fall upon the large, ornate crystal chandelier that hangs above the catwalk. Jumping onto the catwalk railing, he balances precariously, trying to gain a solid enough footing to leap onto a chandelier candelabra branch.
Emrys bowls into one of the soldiers, coming at it between weapons, using the inertia to knock it into a companion a. Large paws swipe at mechano-helms to send a spray of parts.
The white robed man looks up at Bleys... and the chandelier breaks, dropping Bleys into a crowd of armoured goons.
Deirdre races down the stairs, giving a battle cry that she's had centuries to perfect. She dives into the group of golden soldiers, swinging viciously as she tries to fight her way towards Eric.
"I thought Order would do a better job of maintenance," Bleys quips, as he leaps clear of the chandelier-debris, though straight into the midst of the body of soldiers that he originally intended to bypass by swinging over them. Still, his face is grim at the feel of the probability manipulation that was directed at his conveyance, and he swings his sword in a defensive arc as he tries to regain his equilibrium after the surrpise.
Emrys thrashes through another soldier, just in time to jump sideways as the chandelier falls down. A bit of fur goes missing as the wolf barely twists out of the way from a golden soldier's weapon.
Corwin is right there with Deirdre, hacking away in a mad frenzy. The golden soldiers go down quickly beneath his blade, spitting out clockwork parts in all directions.
Wherever Corwin strikes, sparks and blue flame fly. It is not long before his sword is on fire.
Emrys gnashes adn swipes, twisting gracefully among the mechanical soldiers as he tries to get towards the man in white.
Deirdre, who had seem willing to fight close to Corwin's side, changes her opinion as his sword becomes a flame. She swings her weapon, gears and bits of armor flying with her every swing. On occassion, her blood joins in the spray.
Lilith is the last down the stairs, still the long strides for her shorter stature. She smacks the end of the dagger against the nearest of the soldiers and there is the flash of an afterimage only to flip the blade around in a sweeping arc when the creature staggers back.
Bleys works his way through the soldiers, in long sweeps of his blade and fast, hard attacks that send clockwork gears spraying. He catches some of the gears as they fly towards him, and stuffs them into a pocket, as he goes.
All at once, Eric claps his hands, and the soldiers simply stop. He says in a clear, commanding voice, "I'll make this simple." He gestures towards the sleeping Random. "The rat for the loupe." He looks at Emrys as he says this.
Emrys makes a sound. It's probably laughter.
Bleys brushes tiny cogs and crystal fragments off his shoulders, gathering them up in his palm and dropping the debris into another pocket. He looks between Eric, Corwin, and Emrys, expression composed into a mask of neutrality.
Corwin seems focused on stopping his sword from burning, though he does glance at Eric briefly.
Lilith bites to her lower lip, studying Eric. By the set of her shoulders it is sheer will that is keeping the woman from remarking to his demand.
Emrys's form begins to shimmer again, running through the reversal to leave him man instead of wolf. "No."
Deirdre's gaze slides away from Eric, and towards the man in white robes.
Eric draws his sword, and gestures. The guards bring Random forward, and Eric raises the blade...
Bleys leaps forward, hurling himself between Eric and Random, his golden Pattern blade coming up as he does so, poised to catch Eric's blade.
Once Bleys is seen as intercepting the doom of Random, Emrys leaps towards the white-robed man, hands going out as if to snap the nondescrept man's neck.
Deirdre's brows furrow during her study of the robed man. Her head shakes, and her axe is kept at the ready.
The white robed man seems to know that Emrys is coming, and so Emrys passes right through the space where he was... just as the man touches Bleys's sleeve. The fabric of it unravels, falling into neat, color sorted piles next to Bleys's feet.
Corwin, meanwhile, starts hacking away at golden warriors again... just in case.
And in the meantime, Eric and Bleys have their blades locked together...
Lilith darts forward as well, yet it doesn't seem for Eric. Instead, she dives for Random, already turning her blade to press the pommel against the man's shoulder, if she can reach him.
Emrys growls at the white robed man. He launches the white robed man again, just to keep him busy and away from helping Eric, if it can be done.
The man moves surprisingly fast, but can't keep from being nipped here and there. Though he touches Emrys, and he touches him, neat bundles of fur and skin peel off, as well as blood, leaving little neatly sorted piles and pools here and there. The man starts getting bloody, and Emrys starts looking mangy.
"Eric!," Deirdre cries out, either to distract, curse, or just put words into what would otherwise be a wordless attack-yell as she charges the man in white robes.
Lilith strikes a match, and light seems to illuminate around the duchess. Her attention resting over the sleeping prince.
Eric suddenly slides his blade down the length of Bleys's, pressing into his guard, trying to drive him back.
Random stirs and sits up, blinking and trying to figure out what the hell is going on around him.
The white robed man drops, and rolls, fleeing down a side hallway.
Corwin fights his way over to where Eric and Bleys fight. To Bleys, he says, "Get your blade into him!"
Bleys parries Eric's attack and abruptly steps to the side, launching an assault of his own upon the perhaps-clockwork prince, blade flickering in quick, unpredictable cuts. "Really?" he calls back at Corwin. "Here I was just planning to tickle him."
Lilith , the helpful. "Need a blade?" She draws out her gladius and offers it to Random before stepping away to find the others as well.
Random takes Lilith's as he stands, giving her a quick nod of thanks. He rushes wildly at the nearest golden soldier.
Corwin says, "Don't be an ass... your blade, it will bring him back."
Eric seems to have the exact right answer for Bleys's every move, textbook perfect to match Bleys's dramatic style.
Corwin begins fighting his way over to Bleys and Eric.
Emrys tries to bowl into the back of Eric's knees to throw him off balance to give Bleys the advantage.
And for Emrys, slamming into Eric is like slamming into a brick wall. He doesn't feel like flesh.
Emrys yelps at this, the raw skin, flayed by order, burning with the impacting into the too-solid Eric.
More soldiers can be heard in the hallways.
Deirdre, meanwhile, watches the white-robbed man's retreat. There is a moment spent, lining up a shot, before she hurls her axe towards him. It seems a perfect throw, and should connect with him. But it goes wide, strangely, and thunks into a soldier instead.
Lilith steps away from the bounding prince, turning back to the battle. "Emrys!" She steps forward to offer a cursory glance over the wolf.
"We know that," Bleys tells Corwin when he can catch breath to speak. He has fought the clockwork Oberon and knows that these things of Order fight like highly skilled automatons. He glances about quickly for some way to do something that Eric likely does not have a routine to counter, but continues to press an attack, though he conserves his strength.
Eric draws a second blade as Corwin approaches, fending off Bleys with single handed, eerie precision.
Random moves from soldier to soldier frantically, his style seeming to lack formal training, instead being the product of raw emotions.
Corwin presses on, flames or no flames, and begins to engage Eric's second blade.
Eric seems to have no problem fighting two opponents. In fact, it is as if the two sides of his body are fighting almost independently. Again, he seems to have a textbook answer for every one of Corwin's moves, matching his style blow for blow.
Emrys backs away, wanting human form again. If he can't knock Eric over, maybe the precision of his own saber will have some luck with a tendon.
More soldiers flood out of the hallways, and someof them head for the trio focused on Eric.
Lilith moves to circle back behind the fight, watching the princes fight. She flips the dagger, looking for a hole in Eric's guard to join into the fray.
Bleys abruptly tries something different, bringing his cloak into play in a sweep of gold-trimmed black, and aiming a sweeping roundhouse kick at Eric's legs, rather than the more conventional fencing lunge that one might otherwise expect.
Deirdre draws her sword, since she lost her axe, and moves into a position to defend those fighting Eric from the golden soliders.
Emrys has missing skin even as a man, holes in his clothing. He swings once at Eric's backside before facing the oncomin ggolden soldiers. "Damn you," he whispers fiercly. "DAMN ORDER!" His sword will be wild and furious, angry.
Corwin surveys the situation. He carefully waits to see if Bleys' kick creates an opening and, if it does, leaps at Eric, attempting to grapple him, or topple him, or otherwise in turn give Bleys the opening he needs.
There is a pause in Eric's defense, following Bleys's unexpected move, his sword catches in Bleys's leg, and leaves a nasty gash before flying out of his hand.
Random, like Deirdre, is doing his best to keep the soldiers off the others.
Emrys leaves some of his blood on the floor, just to break up the perfect shine of it.
Emrys's blade takes a chunk out of Eric's flesh, which is like stone. Corwin lunches forward, but Eric seems ready for this, his blade pointed right at Corwin's stomach to take advantage of his momentum.
Bleys, bleeding, teeth grit against the pain, brings the sword back around in a two-handed lunge, aimed right for the center of his torso, a few inches below the heart.
Corwin, for the second time in as many months, takes a sword straight in the gut. He reaches down, though, clasping the blade with his free hand and, using hand and his own stuck body, twists away, seeking to yank the blade from Eric's hands.
Lilith lunges forward to press her dagger against Eric's back, stepping back quikckly at Bleys's most recent strike.
Bleys's blade does not go in easily, by any means, but it does go in, striking against something hard within. Lilith blade takes out a chunk of skin as well. Eric's back glistens with something that looks like a mixture of blood and machine oil. And Eric stops.
Eric lets go the blade that is in Corwin. He grinds out, "Leave it in."
Emrys's silver saber continues to swing at the rank and file, but each swing is slower, the day's activities showing.
Bleys continues to bleed, but he holds the blade where it is, driving it into Eric's body as far as he can. He shouts above the fray, directed at Lilith, "Trump! Outer right pocket of my jacket!"
Deirdre is, for her part, making quick work of the golden soldiers that try to attack those fighting Eric. Gears fly, and sweat glistens on the princess' brow. She is growing pale, blood loss starting to take its toll.
Emrys starts backing towards his father and uncles. Retreating.
Lilith ducks beneath Eric's arm to get to Bleys's pocket. She keeps the pommel of her blade turned to prince while drawing it out. "This should go quickly."
Corwin staggers back and then falls down to his knees. Wincing, he starts to pull Eric's blade from himself. Even as he does, he begins to both fall from consciousness, and fade from view.
Random continues to fight. Having just woken up from a nap, he's not suffering as much fatigue as the others.
Golden blades rise and fall. Soldiers keep arriving, even as their predecessors are falling.
Emrys backs and backs until he's touching Eric. "Rust take you all," he growls out at the golden soldiers, trying to keep them fended off.
RPG: Corwin accesses a place via Knight Companion (CHS-KC).
Corwin has left.
Random steals a glance at the others, to see what's happening. "Shit," he says when he realizes. He recklessly tries to get near them and it costs him as he misses a parry and takes a cut on the leg.
"Emrys, touch Bleys's arm." Lilith says even as she begins to focus on the trump. With that, she holds her hand poised to press a seal to Eric as soon as they arrive.
Getting Bleys's arm is easier when one of the swords of the attackers makes its way through his guard and sends Emrys down to one knee. He grabs his uncle and struggles back up.
The Trump that Lilith pulled out of Bleys's pocket is one of a serious-looking military man. Bleys himself is still focused upon keeping Eric spitted upon the point of Rhyddid, fending off any attackers with his cloak and a not-all-that-useful leather bracer as best he can.
Deirdre looks concerned as Corwin disappears, but she continues her fighting. A cry of pain is given as one of the soldier's blades find her previously wounded leg, cutting it open anew.
Random dispatches the soldier that wounded Deirdre and takes out a couple more who approach. "We're gonna have to make our exit, sis," he tells her.
Deirdre nods to Random, and fights into a position that puts her closer to his side, and in the process, closer to the others.
Bleys mutters, uselessly, to Lilith, "Hurry. I don't know how long I can hold him like this."
Lilith turns her focus to the trump, pressing her seal to Eric's shoulder. The older gent holds his hand out ready to accept the first of the travelers, though Lilith does try to push Bleys and Eric through first.
Random grabs Deirdre with one hand, and Emrys or whoever is nearest with the other.
The Trump takes them into the midst of a circle of standing stones. In the middle is a large, weight stone slab, with iron manacles. A place of primitive sacrifice, a clearing in a mountainous jungle. A nearby cavemouth is blocked partially by thornbrush. The man whose Trump Bleys possessed commands the remnants of a group of horned humanoids, familiar to Random as the soldiers from the mud pits.
Bleys keeps his sword in Eric, and tries to haul him over to the slab.
Emrys comes through after making sure Random and Deirdre get through. He'll collapse near the slab in his mangy form and stand guard there through the evening.
Deirdre keeps a tight grip on Random's hand, and fights off golden soldiers until they get through the trump contact. Once through, she allows herself to sag slightly, though not to pass out.
Lilith is one of the last through, already reaching out to rest her hand to Eric's shoulder. "Quickly, the slab," she says to Bleys.
Bleys wrestles Eric over to the slab, bearing him down with his full weight. "Chains!"
Emrys is turning into a wolf near Lilith, which is near an open door to a bedroom. THe wolf is yawning. Down the hall, Bleys and Deirdre are doing terrible things to books.
Deirdre curses Bleys, the book, and this entire place in words that are hardly fit to come out of a princess' mouth.
Corwin releases Lilith's hand, looks around and says, "Dad always said I was too curious for my own good..."
"This," Bleys announces, "is not working out as planned." He adds, "Really, dear sister. Such language." And, at the sound of Corwin's voice down the hall, he frowns, and starts for the catwalk between the rooms.
The air seems to waver and spark around Corwin. The ticking sound gets louder.
Lilith nods. "Then you will fit right in this evening, your highness. It seems there's burning hands and your brother Random has gone missing as well." She looks down to the rest wolf. "And I believe that Emrys may be injured."
Corwin says, "Maybe take it a few steps back... where are we, and why?" He looks around, trying to assess the answer to his own question.
Emrys moves on four unsteady legs and brushes up against Corwin after witnessing the play of energies.
There may not be time for explanations. It becomes apparent that the ticking sound is getting louder, because it is accompanied by the sound of booted feet moving in time.
Deirdre gets up to her feet, which is a small task, considering her wounded leg. She shakes her hand, trying to be rid of some of its pain, as she moves for the hallway herself.
Bleys remarks, apparently on the subject of Corwin's presence, "Well. That certainly got their attention." He looks around for some place to stand and fight.
"Ticking clock and we probably best be going. It may need to wait, I'm afraid. Don't touch the books, your highness" Lilith adds to Corwin. "We need to find the most logical solution to this puzzle."
Bleys interjects, "Or the most illogical, unpredictable solution that we can. The logical solution is probably booby-trapped."
Corwin's scabbard begins to vibrate and buzz. He frowns. Instinct kicks in, and Corwin draws the black blade known as Gram, as well as one of his 1911's.
Emrys growls. A nice, feral sound.
Deirdre slowly withdraws her axe, and looks toward the direction of the ticking sound.
Golden armoured soldiers begin to pour out of the hallways downstairs. Dozens of them.
"Then fire?" Lilith remarks towards Bleys. "It would be nearly sinful to burn a library. Perhaps it may fight to protect itself or present.... oh bloody.."
Bleys unwraps his hand from the handkerchief, and reluctantly tosses the silk square away, sending it drifting down off the catwalk. The pain now largely gone from his face, he draws his sword, holding it in a determined grip. "This," he tells Lilith wryly, "would be a good time to recall your ancestral talents of warding."
Emrys bares his teeth at the approaching army. He lets out a rather fierce howl, the kind of thing one hears in the nightmares of grownups and children alike.
Two dozen soldiers head for the stairs. And behind them... Eric, with a white robed man at his side. The man is curiously nondescript. Average height, average build, brown hair, unmemorable face. Behind them is Random, being carried on a palanquin, fast asleep.
Corwin aims at one of the golden soldiers and pulls the trigger, waiting to see if anything occurs. Even as he does this, Gram seems to be pointing at them, almost of its own will. Almost as if it is dragging Corwin towards the beings.
CLICK. Gunpowder no workie here. Alas.
Deirdre briefly tries to count the number of golden soldiers, and remarks toward the wolfen Emrys, "Yes, exactly like the last time." Then she spies Eric in their number, something fierce comes across her expression.
Emrys barks out something. It might be 'kill the man in white' for those who have spent time with the Weir. The wolf rushes forward. No silver, ordery saber to use now. It's teeth, it's claws, and raw strength to try to bowl over golden soldiers.
Corwin resheaths his pistol and is already leaping forward towards the soldiers, letting Gram go to work on them.
Lilith draws out the silver dagger, though it seems she half turns it in her hand so the pommel is more prominent than the pointy end. She doesn't rush, but approaches in a slow, almost fastidious manner.
Bleys looks around, looks up, and his eyes fall upon the large, ornate crystal chandelier that hangs above the catwalk. Jumping onto the catwalk railing, he balances precariously, trying to gain a solid enough footing to leap onto a chandelier candelabra branch.
Emrys bowls into one of the soldiers, coming at it between weapons, using the inertia to knock it into a companion a. Large paws swipe at mechano-helms to send a spray of parts.
The white robed man looks up at Bleys... and the chandelier breaks, dropping Bleys into a crowd of armoured goons.
Deirdre races down the stairs, giving a battle cry that she's had centuries to perfect. She dives into the group of golden soldiers, swinging viciously as she tries to fight her way towards Eric.
"I thought Order would do a better job of maintenance," Bleys quips, as he leaps clear of the chandelier-debris, though straight into the midst of the body of soldiers that he originally intended to bypass by swinging over them. Still, his face is grim at the feel of the probability manipulation that was directed at his conveyance, and he swings his sword in a defensive arc as he tries to regain his equilibrium after the surrpise.
Emrys thrashes through another soldier, just in time to jump sideways as the chandelier falls down. A bit of fur goes missing as the wolf barely twists out of the way from a golden soldier's weapon.
Corwin is right there with Deirdre, hacking away in a mad frenzy. The golden soldiers go down quickly beneath his blade, spitting out clockwork parts in all directions.
Wherever Corwin strikes, sparks and blue flame fly. It is not long before his sword is on fire.
Emrys gnashes adn swipes, twisting gracefully among the mechanical soldiers as he tries to get towards the man in white.
Deirdre, who had seem willing to fight close to Corwin's side, changes her opinion as his sword becomes a flame. She swings her weapon, gears and bits of armor flying with her every swing. On occassion, her blood joins in the spray.
Lilith is the last down the stairs, still the long strides for her shorter stature. She smacks the end of the dagger against the nearest of the soldiers and there is the flash of an afterimage only to flip the blade around in a sweeping arc when the creature staggers back.
Bleys works his way through the soldiers, in long sweeps of his blade and fast, hard attacks that send clockwork gears spraying. He catches some of the gears as they fly towards him, and stuffs them into a pocket, as he goes.
All at once, Eric claps his hands, and the soldiers simply stop. He says in a clear, commanding voice, "I'll make this simple." He gestures towards the sleeping Random. "The rat for the loupe." He looks at Emrys as he says this.
Emrys makes a sound. It's probably laughter.
Bleys brushes tiny cogs and crystal fragments off his shoulders, gathering them up in his palm and dropping the debris into another pocket. He looks between Eric, Corwin, and Emrys, expression composed into a mask of neutrality.
Corwin seems focused on stopping his sword from burning, though he does glance at Eric briefly.
Lilith bites to her lower lip, studying Eric. By the set of her shoulders it is sheer will that is keeping the woman from remarking to his demand.
Emrys's form begins to shimmer again, running through the reversal to leave him man instead of wolf. "No."
Deirdre's gaze slides away from Eric, and towards the man in white robes.
Eric draws his sword, and gestures. The guards bring Random forward, and Eric raises the blade...
Bleys leaps forward, hurling himself between Eric and Random, his golden Pattern blade coming up as he does so, poised to catch Eric's blade.
Once Bleys is seen as intercepting the doom of Random, Emrys leaps towards the white-robed man, hands going out as if to snap the nondescrept man's neck.
Deirdre's brows furrow during her study of the robed man. Her head shakes, and her axe is kept at the ready.
The white robed man seems to know that Emrys is coming, and so Emrys passes right through the space where he was... just as the man touches Bleys's sleeve. The fabric of it unravels, falling into neat, color sorted piles next to Bleys's feet.
Corwin, meanwhile, starts hacking away at golden warriors again... just in case.
And in the meantime, Eric and Bleys have their blades locked together...
Lilith darts forward as well, yet it doesn't seem for Eric. Instead, she dives for Random, already turning her blade to press the pommel against the man's shoulder, if she can reach him.
Emrys growls at the white robed man. He launches the white robed man again, just to keep him busy and away from helping Eric, if it can be done.
The man moves surprisingly fast, but can't keep from being nipped here and there. Though he touches Emrys, and he touches him, neat bundles of fur and skin peel off, as well as blood, leaving little neatly sorted piles and pools here and there. The man starts getting bloody, and Emrys starts looking mangy.
"Eric!," Deirdre cries out, either to distract, curse, or just put words into what would otherwise be a wordless attack-yell as she charges the man in white robes.
Lilith strikes a match, and light seems to illuminate around the duchess. Her attention resting over the sleeping prince.
Eric suddenly slides his blade down the length of Bleys's, pressing into his guard, trying to drive him back.
Random stirs and sits up, blinking and trying to figure out what the hell is going on around him.
The white robed man drops, and rolls, fleeing down a side hallway.
Corwin fights his way over to where Eric and Bleys fight. To Bleys, he says, "Get your blade into him!"
Bleys parries Eric's attack and abruptly steps to the side, launching an assault of his own upon the perhaps-clockwork prince, blade flickering in quick, unpredictable cuts. "Really?" he calls back at Corwin. "Here I was just planning to tickle him."
Lilith , the helpful. "Need a blade?" She draws out her gladius and offers it to Random before stepping away to find the others as well.
Random takes Lilith's as he stands, giving her a quick nod of thanks. He rushes wildly at the nearest golden soldier.
Corwin says, "Don't be an ass... your blade, it will bring him back."
Eric seems to have the exact right answer for Bleys's every move, textbook perfect to match Bleys's dramatic style.
Corwin begins fighting his way over to Bleys and Eric.
Emrys tries to bowl into the back of Eric's knees to throw him off balance to give Bleys the advantage.
And for Emrys, slamming into Eric is like slamming into a brick wall. He doesn't feel like flesh.
Emrys yelps at this, the raw skin, flayed by order, burning with the impacting into the too-solid Eric.
More soldiers can be heard in the hallways.
Deirdre, meanwhile, watches the white-robbed man's retreat. There is a moment spent, lining up a shot, before she hurls her axe towards him. It seems a perfect throw, and should connect with him. But it goes wide, strangely, and thunks into a soldier instead.
Lilith steps away from the bounding prince, turning back to the battle. "Emrys!" She steps forward to offer a cursory glance over the wolf.
"We know that," Bleys tells Corwin when he can catch breath to speak. He has fought the clockwork Oberon and knows that these things of Order fight like highly skilled automatons. He glances about quickly for some way to do something that Eric likely does not have a routine to counter, but continues to press an attack, though he conserves his strength.
Eric draws a second blade as Corwin approaches, fending off Bleys with single handed, eerie precision.
Random moves from soldier to soldier frantically, his style seeming to lack formal training, instead being the product of raw emotions.
Corwin presses on, flames or no flames, and begins to engage Eric's second blade.
Eric seems to have no problem fighting two opponents. In fact, it is as if the two sides of his body are fighting almost independently. Again, he seems to have a textbook answer for every one of Corwin's moves, matching his style blow for blow.
Emrys backs away, wanting human form again. If he can't knock Eric over, maybe the precision of his own saber will have some luck with a tendon.
More soldiers flood out of the hallways, and someof them head for the trio focused on Eric.
Lilith moves to circle back behind the fight, watching the princes fight. She flips the dagger, looking for a hole in Eric's guard to join into the fray.
Bleys abruptly tries something different, bringing his cloak into play in a sweep of gold-trimmed black, and aiming a sweeping roundhouse kick at Eric's legs, rather than the more conventional fencing lunge that one might otherwise expect.
Deirdre draws her sword, since she lost her axe, and moves into a position to defend those fighting Eric from the golden soliders.
Emrys has missing skin even as a man, holes in his clothing. He swings once at Eric's backside before facing the oncomin ggolden soldiers. "Damn you," he whispers fiercly. "DAMN ORDER!" His sword will be wild and furious, angry.
Corwin surveys the situation. He carefully waits to see if Bleys' kick creates an opening and, if it does, leaps at Eric, attempting to grapple him, or topple him, or otherwise in turn give Bleys the opening he needs.
There is a pause in Eric's defense, following Bleys's unexpected move, his sword catches in Bleys's leg, and leaves a nasty gash before flying out of his hand.
Random, like Deirdre, is doing his best to keep the soldiers off the others.
Emrys leaves some of his blood on the floor, just to break up the perfect shine of it.
Emrys's blade takes a chunk out of Eric's flesh, which is like stone. Corwin lunches forward, but Eric seems ready for this, his blade pointed right at Corwin's stomach to take advantage of his momentum.
Bleys, bleeding, teeth grit against the pain, brings the sword back around in a two-handed lunge, aimed right for the center of his torso, a few inches below the heart.
Corwin, for the second time in as many months, takes a sword straight in the gut. He reaches down, though, clasping the blade with his free hand and, using hand and his own stuck body, twists away, seeking to yank the blade from Eric's hands.
Lilith lunges forward to press her dagger against Eric's back, stepping back quikckly at Bleys's most recent strike.
Bleys's blade does not go in easily, by any means, but it does go in, striking against something hard within. Lilith blade takes out a chunk of skin as well. Eric's back glistens with something that looks like a mixture of blood and machine oil. And Eric stops.
Eric lets go the blade that is in Corwin. He grinds out, "Leave it in."
Emrys's silver saber continues to swing at the rank and file, but each swing is slower, the day's activities showing.
Bleys continues to bleed, but he holds the blade where it is, driving it into Eric's body as far as he can. He shouts above the fray, directed at Lilith, "Trump! Outer right pocket of my jacket!"
Deirdre is, for her part, making quick work of the golden soldiers that try to attack those fighting Eric. Gears fly, and sweat glistens on the princess' brow. She is growing pale, blood loss starting to take its toll.
Emrys starts backing towards his father and uncles. Retreating.
Lilith ducks beneath Eric's arm to get to Bleys's pocket. She keeps the pommel of her blade turned to prince while drawing it out. "This should go quickly."
Corwin staggers back and then falls down to his knees. Wincing, he starts to pull Eric's blade from himself. Even as he does, he begins to both fall from consciousness, and fade from view.
Random continues to fight. Having just woken up from a nap, he's not suffering as much fatigue as the others.
Golden blades rise and fall. Soldiers keep arriving, even as their predecessors are falling.
Emrys backs and backs until he's touching Eric. "Rust take you all," he growls out at the golden soldiers, trying to keep them fended off.
RPG: Corwin accesses a place via Knight Companion (CHS-KC).
Corwin has left.
Random steals a glance at the others, to see what's happening. "Shit," he says when he realizes. He recklessly tries to get near them and it costs him as he misses a parry and takes a cut on the leg.
"Emrys, touch Bleys's arm." Lilith says even as she begins to focus on the trump. With that, she holds her hand poised to press a seal to Eric as soon as they arrive.
Getting Bleys's arm is easier when one of the swords of the attackers makes its way through his guard and sends Emrys down to one knee. He grabs his uncle and struggles back up.
The Trump that Lilith pulled out of Bleys's pocket is one of a serious-looking military man. Bleys himself is still focused upon keeping Eric spitted upon the point of Rhyddid, fending off any attackers with his cloak and a not-all-that-useful leather bracer as best he can.
Deirdre looks concerned as Corwin disappears, but she continues her fighting. A cry of pain is given as one of the soldier's blades find her previously wounded leg, cutting it open anew.
Random dispatches the soldier that wounded Deirdre and takes out a couple more who approach. "We're gonna have to make our exit, sis," he tells her.
Deirdre nods to Random, and fights into a position that puts her closer to his side, and in the process, closer to the others.
Bleys mutters, uselessly, to Lilith, "Hurry. I don't know how long I can hold him like this."
Lilith turns her focus to the trump, pressing her seal to Eric's shoulder. The older gent holds his hand out ready to accept the first of the travelers, though Lilith does try to push Bleys and Eric through first.
Random grabs Deirdre with one hand, and Emrys or whoever is nearest with the other.
The Trump takes them into the midst of a circle of standing stones. In the middle is a large, weight stone slab, with iron manacles. A place of primitive sacrifice, a clearing in a mountainous jungle. A nearby cavemouth is blocked partially by thornbrush. The man whose Trump Bleys possessed commands the remnants of a group of horned humanoids, familiar to Random as the soldiers from the mud pits.
Bleys keeps his sword in Eric, and tries to haul him over to the slab.
Emrys comes through after making sure Random and Deirdre get through. He'll collapse near the slab in his mangy form and stand guard there through the evening.
Deirdre keeps a tight grip on Random's hand, and fights off golden soldiers until they get through the trump contact. Once through, she allows herself to sag slightly, though not to pass out.
Lilith is one of the last through, already reaching out to rest her hand to Eric's shoulder. "Quickly, the slab," she says to Bleys.
Bleys wrestles Eric over to the slab, bearing him down with his full weight. "Chains!"