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[Dwarmin]

Action: Ryxa stealthily hops up to the second floor from the wall and begins taking out the groups of men as quiet as she can, before the big fight starts.

[GreatWyrmGold]

"Good to know. Thanks."

Locate a large rock. Prick my finger and draw T1(A7,C8) on it. Throw it at a cultist.

[sjm9876]

Ryxa presses herself against the wall, and begins to edge around to the second level. (5+4) The stone movers don’t look up as she does so, and she moves up the ramp. (3+4) A stone scrapes along the floor, but goes unnoticed. She moves to the closest of the groups, with five people, and (2+4) presses herself against the crate upon which two are sitting. (9+6v8-6) Mru’shkane passes through the neck of the first (11+6v6-5) and the eye of the second, and both fall to the ground, silent. (3+6v3-3) The blade separates the head of the next from his body, (2+6v9-1) only to strike the steel of the fourth with a clang.
 Straightening to guard herself, she sees around ten cultists on the top floor, with three corpses. Down the ramp the workers stop and turn, only to turn back as a stone passes from the shadows (6+3v5-6) into the head of one of them. Shards of bone, and slivers of a fading black material, shower the area as the body explodes, (9-2v8/8/8) causing three workers nearby to be stunned. The dwarf king grins and steps out into the main room. There are five other workers unharmed.

[kj1225]

Kyle charges into battle!

[Dwarmin]

Ryxa supposed four was good enough for no effort expended.

She eyed the last cultist with an emotionless expression. At least he had bothered to learn how to parry, but let's see him handle this.

"..."

Action: Cut cut cut!

[GreatWyrmGold]

Locate a large rock. Prick my finger and draw T1(A7,C8) on it. Throw it at a cultist.

((Or did I do this?))

[sjm9876]

((Done. the exploding head was a byproduct of this.))

[GreatWyrmGold]

((Oh. Runes are awesome.))

Grab another rock and toss it threateningly in the air a couple of times as I step into view of the last cultist.
"What are you doing--why is everyone trying to kill all of these people?"

[sjm9876]

 (8-2) The workers seem unfazed by Krom’s questions, turning towards him at his words. (5+3v7) The nearest is knocked aside by a vine just as it begins to charge. (11+6v5/8-6/5) A snapping of bones follows, as another sweeps across the group, sending three of the workers flying to rest in crumpled heaps against the ground. (10+1v5) Then the king moves in with his hammer, crushing the head of one, and (7+1v3) smashing the chest of another. (6+2v11) He ducks as another worker’s blade whistles over his head.
 (7+4v3) Ryxa dodges aside as one of the cultists charges towards her, tripping him, (8+6v9-6) and driving her sword through his back. (7+4v5) The knife of the next passes into the corpse as she shakes it off the sword, (4+6v10) although he narrowly sidesteps the counterattack. (12v2+4) A solid punch hits the Drow’s cheek then, (4-2) and there is a snap as she feels bone break.
 Three workers remain on the lower floor, whilst nine cultists still stand on the tier above.

[GreatWyrmGold]

"Can you please try not to kill all of them?"

Doodle the C8 rune on the side in my blood, then toss it at one of the cultists. Try to hit the torso this time.

[kj1225]

Flame on and protect Ryxa!

[Dwarmin]

A momentary blur of pain, and then...

Ryxa felt her jaw throb, but her vision was clear and nothing important was harmed. Her blade swung in an wide arc, hungry for vengeance-but she held it back. She needed to defend herself.

She also knew she could jump back down, but then her allies would be at a tactical disadvantage. She had to hold the high ground until her allies could reach her.

Action: Go into a defensive stance and try to evade, ward off or parry all hits.

[sjm9876]

 (12+3) Krom’s stone hits a cultist, directly over the heart. this time there is no explosion, but instead the rock sticks and begins to turn molten. Even as the man screams it begins to burrow in, and blood drips down his chest. (12) With a last, desperate jerk his dropping body lands on the pile of rubble against the wall, and his blood begins to seep in between the cracks. As it does so, a strange crimson light seems to fill the room, emanating from the wall. A wave passes from it, washing over you with some force as a black robed ogre stumbles into the room.
 (10)(7)(3)(12) When you recover it is with some pain. A quick glance reveals you are no longer in the dungeon complex, and none of your foes are to be seen. The walls and floor are blood red, and you stand in the entrance to what appears to be some sort of open topped arena. The way behind is blocked by a smooth dome, flooding the area in dim light. Then you see the king. Black fluid flows from his mouth, and he mumbles gently. ‘Shouldn’t be here. Not here.’
 He collapses to the ground, helpless, as a gust of wind fills the air. Then, descending from the skies, comes a terrifying sight. A dragon, it’s body made from shadow, it’s skin shifting and twisting before your eyes. It fills the centre of the arena, almost fifty times the height of a man. It’s head alone, broad and horned, is as large as the halls at Bastion. And as it speaks, the ground shakes.
 ‘Welcome, brother. It is not yet time to die.’
 ‘Shit.’ The king mutters, the sand of the floor twisting into a cylinder around him, before melting, solidifying into glass.
 ‘No explanations I assume, kinslayer, changeling, scribe? He never was one for such. But come, how impolite. Let me introduce myself. My name is Vaydesh. Father of the one hundred. Now ninety eight, thanks to you.’ The dragon’s eye meets Ryxa’s. ‘But no, that was not your fault. I propose a game, regardless. Me or Hrun - the king. If you kill me, he goes free. If I kill you, I get my ichor price at last.’

[GreatWyrmGold]

"...Maybe I should just use rocks. Well, in the future. For now, seeing as this is a life-or-death situation, I suppose that the sort of things I did would make sense. But before I begin: I've never heard of this Vaydesh. Care to explain who you and the one hundred are?"

Take the opportunity to locate a large, blunt object, bite my finger to make it bleed, and scribe T1(A7,C8), C8, T1(C8,(T2(C5)), T1(A7,C5), and T2(C7) several times each on it before adding A8 a couple times and throwing the rock at Vaydesh.

[Dwarmin]

Well, this was unfair, Ryxa thought-analyzing lines of attack, possible tactics, contingencies. All ended in failure. No amount of armor could stand a blow from a living mountain. No single blade could fell it, though her warriors heart hopes for a blinding cut at the eye, to mark her passage. Maybe if there was all 101 blades here, they could prevail. But, she was only one.

The Dragons eye then turned on her, and she saw her pale reflection in it's great depths.

It was sheathed in shadow, though-perhaps indicating it's true from was not so substantial, perhaps it had something to hide-even a weakness. But, that was a slim hope. Maybe it just liked to show off.

She could only guess it had mastery over geomancy, at the very least-sealing the king in a glass jar like a bug, with hardly any effort. It had chosen it's arena well. She knew many Dragons could breath various killing and subduing substances-and, the oldest ones could cast all forms of magic as well as any archmage. Not to mention it was the size of a castle, with enough strength to press them into oblivion by mere weight alone.

"...Ah, and what will be the rules of this game, Master Vaydesh?" Ryxa asks, her voice striving for calm in the midst of panic.

She remembered her stance, and the world fell away-preparing for the avalanche she was sure to come. Loose, flowing. No hope of meeting it head on. Had to run it out of breath. Then one stroke, perhaps all she would have time for. And if it was the right stroke, even a mountain had to die.