At the comment Teros made about his singing, Damien could really care less. He didn't truly like the desert man as it was, and he simply chose to ignore him, looking to the other direction. Truthfully, he wasn't feeling very good at the moment. A burning memory overtook him from his accident in the wandering troupe of performers years ago, and his stomach was giving him problems, despite the fact that he took a little bit of food to eat. "Do you think that I fear us being attacked? Though it is generous of you to take sentry duty, that is not an influence." Damien said slowly to Vilyamar as the strange clad half-elf stood up to take sentry duty.
The bard stared off into the darkness himself, rather than towards the flickering flames that burned before him. He placed a pale hand on the hilt of his rapier, running his fingers along the sweeping crossguard as the steel flowed in shape like swirling gusts of wind. Damien heard Mahou speak up, requesting that he sing something for them to enjoy, but the thoughts barely registered in his troubled mind. Without looking directly at her, he licked his lips slowly and partly shut his eyes. "Your tale was just fine, and if you can tell that, something that I have never before heard, then surely you can think of something else that nobody else has heard. Think of it this way, if I haven't heard it before, chances are that these peasants along with us haven't either." Pulling himself slowly to his feet, he turned his back to the fire. He needed to take a walk to help clear his mind, and a walk was what he intended to do. He shifted his cloak around on his body so that it wouldn't snag on anything around him, and took a slow step away from the warming light of the campfire. "Just...leave me alone." Damien muttered before setting off, wandering anywhere that he might find so that he could possibly suppress his memories once more, the haunting memories that plagued Damien LeBlaque.
The parts of the story that Derak listened to he found intresting. The little girl Hailtia the girl that Mahou mentioned reminded him of a little girl that he used to tell war stories to at his home village. She was a pretty little girl, her father also adored her. But Derak's mind was wandering, the soft sound that eased threw Derak's ears from mahou and the dancing of the fire somewhat hypnotized Derak's mind. His gaze paused on the fire and his memory formed shape in his mind. Mainly on his past adventures his mind was fixed on. Thinking back on his past missions and his current mission he somewhat regreted even being here. But he had already made his descion and he was hard up for money. He stood in silence not interacting with anyone else at the fire.
Teros watched around the fire. Everyone was pretty much to themselves. Teros didn't want to think of his past. He just wanted to continue on with what was happening now. He looked around in hopes of finding something interesting, but all he found was a stick. So, being fairly bored he picked up the stick and began to poke the fire with it. Fire always intrested him.
The the bard stood up and left, calling everyone besides himself and Mahou a peasant. Teros shook his head and muttered just loud enough so that it everyone could hear, but so that it would seem that he was talking to himself; "Oh, and I suppose your the freakin Emperor of some grand land!" He didn't like that bard, and he secretly hoped that something would eat him while he was out in forest, but of course he soon chased those thoughts away and continued on with his happy poking.
Elandor listened to Mahou's story with his mouth opened wide. When it was done he uttered under his breath: "Wow, now this is exactly what adventuring is supposed to be. All we need now is a ravaging monster or hostile barbarian tribe invading our camp!" His words gained strength as he spoke them and he eagerly began looking around in expectation. His sausages crackling announced they were ready for serving. He happily began collecting them from their sticks and started handing them out to who-ever wanted one.
He paused halfway as the nice atmosphere dropped dead with the bitter words of the bard.
Elandor looked at the circle of faces that now stared in harsh features at the departing bard not understanding what the bard had said. He scanned the group a second time to make sure that he didn't see a peasant hiding somewhere, but didn't find any.
"Well, he must not be knowing what he sais. 'I' don't see any peasants." he slowly said to himself. Then, talking louder he added:"No need to be depressed, Bard! There are plenty of sausages to enjoy!"
The bard probably didn't hear him for Elandor got no reply.
(Well, as most of you know, your trusty DM has been out sick. However, im BACK!!!! And were kicking this her thang into full gear!! WOOHOOO:TUP
So it was that with the soft dying of the fire, sleep embraced each of the group members, and thus ending their first day together. Though they were a party, they were still far from being considered companions, however. For the members were from such different worlds, and each had already experienced so much, that one night was not nearly enough to bind the 6 different stories that had been forced to come together. In fact, this night might have actually have created some barriers between members. Different experiences lead to different view points, some being ignorant. As it was, the atmosphere may have been stressed to the point of tension ere every eyelid was shut. Little did the members know that, if they weren’t to ease into union, they would be forced into it, or perish. For none of the sleeping minds could have possibly foreseen the difficulties they would experience, nor could they fathom the challenges that loomed just outside the horizons of their thoughts.
Dawn came on the wings of fiery clouds. Their sweeping wings blazed in pink and orange, glowing with the promise of a bright day. The packing and preparing was done in a hurry, and within the hour, they were off. The road was a dusty one, and easily followed as it made its way across the sea of grass, who’s emerald waves rolled gently in a breeze laced with the fluttering of butterflies. Here and there, like great islands towered the groves of great oak and spruce trees. The horizon rose to the hazy shoulders of ancient hills. The road would eventually lead over them, but for now, was content with the easily treaded plains. It was a peaceful land. In fact, as far as inhabitants were concerned, too peaceful for trouble to come to it. Ignorance is bliss.
The day wore on, and Lavuria’s mount rode high in the sky. The day turned hot and hazy, perhaps too hot for most. The road ran under no shade, but the groves to the distant sides looked undeniably welcoming, and were only prevented from being paid a visit by the tall grass.
On they went, until finally, they reached wooded, sloping feet of the hills. From what could be seen from the distance, the road wove between the shoulders of the hills, and climbing would not be very difficult. At least not at first. The woods that bearded the hills was a most welcome site, and the adventurers hurried for their shade. Once beneath the boughs, however, they realized this was perhaps far from a friendly forest. To both sides of the path stood crude spears, roughly carven and ornamented with black and greasy feathers. Mounting the spears, grinning fleshlessly at the adventurers were human skulls. A little farther back, the road came to a split. In the center of the split was a stone alter. Though rain had washed over it countless times, smoothing its coarse sides and features, it was apparent there were old blood stains over it. (READ CLOSELY) The road split in two. One, seemingly the main road, continued straight as it was, climbing the hill and making its way to its shoulders. The forest seemed thinner ahead this way, and would probably die out if followed further. The road also branched to the left, however, plunging deep into the forest...if deep was the proper word. (This is not a big forest, as you could tell when you approached. Just your every day woody corner of the world. They exist everywhere, certainly where you live...in RL) It could be easily told that this was NOT part of the normal road, but more like a path, formed by.....somethings. Along this path stood countless spears. The Adventurers had come to a decision....
Teros enjoyed the susages that the little kender had given him, tasted pretty good, and it helped him relax and sleep. In the morning, he was enjoying his time, until it got at about midday. Now he was huffing and puffing. The humidty was too much for him, he simply wasn't use to it. Luckily his armor was light and easy to manage, and his weapons were not too large.
Finally his eyes caught sight of a forest, and he let out a sigh of relief, he loved his goddess but herself and the humidity was just too much. He was hurridly moving to the forest, not too fast, but fast enough to get near the front of the group.
He almost through himself into the shade. He was totally ignorant to the spears that were beside him, until his hand laid rest on it and he looked up to see a human skull! Surprised, he fell back and stared at it until he the surprise passed. Pulling himself up, he actually took the time to look around. The strange shrine-ish area caught his eye, but what caught it even more was the spliting of the paths.
Teros went to the spliting and looked down each side. He raised an eyebrow and then turned back to the group.
"Well the smart people go down the main road and are all happy, story over. But we are supposed to be looking for some leaf, and maybe, just mabye its down there. Now I don't wanna fight whatever did...that." he says pointing to the skulls, "but we got a job to acomplish and it might be worth our time to go anyways. Besides," he says with a smile, "I have to show you my real fighting powers, not that unlucky stuff from the bridge fight. So my vote is for the scary-ass place! Who's with me?"
Derak walked though the heat sweat sapping day. He was reileved to see a forest ahead that offered a curtain from the sun. He wiped his forehead clean of sweat and continued. He watched the fella named Teros stumble across a skull. He smirked at his reaction to the skull. Walking into the cool blanket of shade Derak said "easy pal.....the things harmless now"(referring to Teros). He looked ahead down both paths. One offering a road ahead and the other to the left. "hmmm" he said rubbing the sharp wiskers on his skin with his grubby hand. With his sweat soaked back to the other he said "well we gotta get this goddamn leaf don't we, maybe we otta carry on this way." He says with his deep voice pointing his finger down the left path. Derak wasn't too intimadated by the skulls. Most of the time weak forces put decorations up to disguise their true strength which would most of the time be weak. Kind of like an illisionist spell with a little gnome laughing ang giggling behind it. This kind of thing was a tactic taking by Kabolds or goblins, he had seen them do this kind of thing before as matter of fact, it a defense type thing, a pretty good one too. One that onlythe most guliable of travels would fall for and send them fleeing in the other direction. If this forest held true danger their would be more than a blood stained rock or a spear with a skull at the tip. If they where truly deadly they would have those killers waiting at the entry of this forest. But Derak would keep this display in mind though it was not to be underestimated. Derak stood at the fork in the road waiting for reply from the others. He showed no fear in his face, he wanted to set a postive example for the rest of the group, even though they probably were'nt that easily influenced.
Mahou rolled over sleepily that morning, finding Gemi snuggled up close to her tummy basking in the warmth of her flesh. Gathering Gemi and her own belongings up in her arms, Mahou was glade to set out with the strange bunch she had come to travel with. Her hazel eyes kept sidelong glances at one and all, resting the longest on the reserved bard before glancing at the others. It puzzled Mahou how someone in his line of work could be so distant from people. He didn’t seem to hold much passion for life. Then again, not many of those she currently traveled with seemed quit like she’d expect them to, but for that most, who ever was what you expected.
As the dawn moved into late morning, and the open road closed in by the forest, Mahou’s eyes scanned over their soundings focusing on the strange spears that lined the road. The others seemed to be concerned on what direction to take, but Mahou’s thoughts turned to the strange alter that had stood so openly on a public road.
“What type of creatures would place an alter here?” Mahou questions to herself more then anyone. Her interests peaked she turned her feet from the group and marched, so to speak, over to the alter. Her slender fingers reached up tracing the weathered stone followed by her eyes as she searched for something that might suggest who this alter was dedicated too. It was the worn bloodstains that caused her to stop and look down the paths.
Mahou hadn’t been paying attention to the conversations around her instead started to debate in her own mind what would be more interesting. Shifting Gemi from under one arm to under the other she glanced down both paths figuring through her head the alter and the seemingly threatening spears that marked the small off set path. Questions still of whom and why this was placed on the road raced her mind and she smiled a bit turning to the group
“I think we should go this way.” She said glancing at the spear littered path. “No one said we have to get the leaf ASAP I think it’d be… nice to see what beings have put such effort into this display… what purpose it holds.” Mahou paused stepping back from the alter and moving towards the small path. Her cloven feet moved a few steps down the smaller path as if this was the best idea all day, her interests driving her to move forward she only paused to glance at the others. “Don’t tell me any of you are scared.” She said with a grand smile taking a backwards step away from them.
Sleep crept up on the monk a little while after it had found the others. The heat of the fire on his back wore away at his resolve and he told himself that he could hardly be surprised anyways and he also doubted that any creature would attack a group such as this anyways. He fell away into the the depths of his subconcious and awaited the next dawn.
As morning came, the monk awoke early and had eaten already. He was accustomed to an early rise with the sun and would have liked to move quickly. He did menial chores that prepared himself and a few general things that shut down the campsite. Once everyone awoke, they all ate and started out on their second day as a party, in search of a leaf.
Soon the road led them to an altar and a crossroads. Vilyamar studied the altar with what looked like much interest, though he could not figure out what group of creatures does this sort of thing. He thought of the crossroads and the word 'trap' blared in his mind.
So far most of the party had agreed to travelling down the less-used path, which was fine with Vilyamar. They were taking their chances either way in his mind. The spears and show put out on the road could be a deterrence that led less-adventerous travellers, such as merchants, to travel the well-travelled road. In turn the brigands or monsters that had set up this little site would ambush them down below, in the thinner treed area.
The path however could be set in a strategically advantegeous position for monsters or brigands to attempt to raid better-seasoned travellers and adventuring parties such as themselves. The risks were the same and the less-travelled road may not have any raiders or bandits on it at all.
"I, too, say we take the less-travelled road. Nothing risked, nothing gained as my masters were wont to say once."
Damien returned to the camp after everybody else had lay down to sleep, creeping in through the shadows to the dying embers of the campfire. Spying a few remaining sausages in the skillet, he snatched them free and ate the now cold supper that he denied while it was still hot. He didn’t care, though. He had wanted to be alone.
Taking consideration to stamp out the remaining embers of the fire, the bard did so with a small cloud of ash arising from it, and then made his way over to where his bedroll lay, slung over the bottom of his silk pack. Unfastening it, he unfurled it on a dry patch of ground, and removed his slender rapier from his waist, sliding it under the blanket beside him. He then stripped off his cloak, using it as a second sheet, and removed his armor, setting it beside him. Slowly, he drifted off to a dreamless sleep.
Awaking with the others, Damien gathered up his gear wordlessly and quietly, buckling on his rapier and slinging pack over his shoulders, his bedroll reattached. Helping with what he could to clean up the campsite, the lean bard stretched, and set out on the road to wherever it may lead them to.
Damien’s cloak fluttered behind him with every long legged stride that he took, creating an ominous shadow on the ground underneath him, but he paid it little heed. Shadows meant nothing to him, save for the shadows of his past, the ever haunting memories of his failure. Shaking his head so that his hair fluttered around his face, he cursed under his breath, and trudged onwards.
Reaching a forested area at the climbing feet of the hills, the six encountered a strange fork in the road. One looked to be a continuation of the main road, climbing up the hills and leading onwards. The second was a very sinister looking path indeed, being lined with spears driven into the ground underfoot. Casting a quick glance down each, he began to think of where this leaf they were to hunt may be growing.
Likely down the wicked path. Why else would such things be placed there? Apparently, someone else knows it’s value, and wants to ward off possible thieves. That’s the only reason I can think of, anyway.
Damien heard the half-elf speak up, about no risk being taken means nothing gained from it, and the bard smiled slightly at this. “Vilyamar speaks wise words. To the broken path, I will journey. To those who fear the darkness, walk the other road.” With a long step, Damien set off down the spear-lined path, wary of what might lay around him.
(OOC: Should a threat arise, Damien will draw his rapier and, depending on how severe the threat seems to be, will or will not activate it’s enchantment. He will try to assume a fencing stance if space permits it, granting him the +2 AC bonus. This is only if a living threat shows. If it is a trap of some sort, or a natural hazard, I will post his reaction.)
As the group started its journey again that morning Elandor noted that the tension that had arisen the previous evening was still a little tangible. It infected the little kender as well, for he didn't feel as joyous as he would feel otherwise. He felt a little ichy and restless though, as if something was pricking his muscles.
After several minutes the pricking sensation lowered as Elandor's muscles warmed. In most situations that would have lead to an energetic jumping from this interesting thing to looking at that amazing occurance, but this day was so hot that after several efforts Elandor realized that the heat would fry him if he acted as high-spirited as he would have loved.
When they reached the forest Elandor was very much reliefed, for in the shades of the trees he found slight refreshment and even six berries which he took with him to share with his partymembers. Then he noticed the skulls.
"Some one must have put these stakes here on purpose. Perhaps this is a warning. Perhaps there is danger here. Perhaps... these berries are poisoned!" He wanted to let go of the berries, but upon making the move to do so he saw the altar-like stone with the dark stains all over it, and forgot his intensions immediately.
With a small run he jumped on top of the hot stone and inspected the stains. Something had splattered juice on top of this thing. He looked at the environment and noticed the small path with the skulls on spears going to the left. With all the knowledge about religion he possessed (which was actually nothing) he reasoned:
"Ah, I get it. That path looks rather interesting, but I bet it's very very dangerous to walk it. This stone must be a place to sacrifice to the gods of nature and the gods of evil that haunt that place. Let me do my share and praise these gods with the berries they so love!"
With that me smeared the berries over the altar, creating new stains on the smooth stone. After doing so he closed his eyes, as he had seen by some praying priest and stood there for several moments.
When Damian decided that it was time to take the small path Elandor jumped after him, doing his best to move silently through the bushes without being seen. He trusted the offering he just made, but he didn't know if the wild animals that were about to attack them would.
"Let us hurry. I doubt that if we could reach the leaf today the man would have bothered to get us to do it. Time to move, the farther we travel today, the less we must go tomorrow. And, yes, I know, we still must come all the way back, unless the man was some godly creature."
With that, he started after the bard, staying in step with him and directly behind. At least until Elandor came bouncing along to take his spot behind the dark one.
Mahou smiled a bit watching the kender. she wasn't so sure he knew all that he thought aloud but none the less his spirit was refreshing. it was Damien who first pushed past Mahou. Stepping sideways out of his way she waited for the kender to finish his offering.
"Sounds like a good idea Elandor, wish i had thought of such a thing" Mahou said as the kender caught up to her. Mahous eyes sparkled with a smile as the kender darted down the path with great determence to move silently as he could. "Perhaps said god will take honor in your intentions." she muttered walking after the kender and the bard.
It seemed everyone had pretty much agreed to take the same path and with Damien moving down the path with Elandor hot on his tail already she was sure the others would follow shortly. Pausing but a moment Mahou glanced back to see where the others where before turning to follow the spooky path.
Hesitantly, the group crept cautiously down the thin, spear and skull lined trail. (Single file, Front to back-Damien, Elandor, Teros, Vilyamar, Derak, Mahuo). The words of the monk was still settling on there minds. The only way to accomplish anything was through risk, and besides, this could lead to the leaf.....even though this wasn’t really a forest.
Suddenly, the soft cracking of a twig twitched in Mahuo’s sensitive ears. Her head snapped to the right, where she had heard it. Only a veil of thick brush could be seen, but Gemmi began to growl, and, before any could stop him, tore into the brush. The party stopped, fingering their weapons, and listening for a clue to the wolverines target. It came, within seconds. A shrill shriek split the air, drowned by the savage snarling of the little monster...Gemmi. Before the group could react to the battle their animal friend had aroused, The brush to both their left and right rustled, and spewed forth what could only be assumed as the makers of the path. Goblins, over a dozen. Their sweaty, skin ranged from muddy green to a piney black, and was marked with scarring and yellow paint. Jagged and rusty rings, bars and spikes jutted gruesomely through their long ears, noses, and brows. Filthy yellow fangs snapped at the air, dribbling in saliva. In their long, skinny arms were crude spears and jagged swords. Gravely shouts, and ferocious snarling could still be heard, marking the whereabouts of Gemmi.
Without hesitation, and accompanied by harsh shouts in goblin, the filthy beasts leapt forward in a crude combat display. Rusty swords swung simply as hard as skinny arms could muster, and spears jabbed at anything that moved.
Teros stood in what would come to be the very center of the fray. The first goblin leapt savagely at him, thrusting its sharpened spear without remorse. The desert warrior was too quick though, and, with a quick sidestep and a downward swipe, cut the spear in two with his two handed, gleaming blade. Immediately the goblin swiped the shaft at Teros, smacking his knuckles, while whipping out a dirty, serrated sword. This time it plunged at him with the blade, but once again the agile man from the south was quick enough to sidestep. And again his blade swiped down, only this time, it cut through the outstretched, green arm of the goblin. Black blood sprayed forth, splattering Teros’ worn clothing, and the beast screeched hideously, but not for long. The great blade of the warrior plunged through the paint marked forehead, cutting the screech short, and thrusting out the other side.
Once ahead of Teros, now to his left, Elandor was nearly quivering with excitement. A goblin charged him, howling with lust, and swinging his blade like it was an axe for a tree. The kender was ready, however, and, hopping out of range of the wildly swinging blade, poked his hoopak like a spear into the shoulder of the goblin. Rearing back with a snarl, and gripping his wound, the goblin eyed the kender with wild, yellow eyes, before charging back for more. He certainly got it. His rage was too high, and his swing too hard. The kender ducked nimbly below it, and the goblin kept going, until he had nearly spun completely around. Using this chance, Elandor grabbed his ankles, and flipped him on his stomach, before plunging his hoopak, like a flag of victory, ended the battle.
On Teros’ other side, Vilyamar had been assaulted from the opposite side of the path. The goblin first hurled his spear. The shaft flew through the air, plunged through the mossy colored robes, and sliced the monks leg, before sticking into the ground. Gritting his teeth, the half breed pulled forth his nunchuku from his sash, and hissing the language of magic, activated the enchantment, sending bolts and ripples of blue energy on one flail, while the other flowered in orange flame. As he did this, another goblin lunged at him from behind, but his monkish reflexes were ready. With a spinning sidestep, he brought the spinning flail into a whirling arc, smashing down upon the back of the goblins stringy haired skull. Flames engulfed the goblins tarish colored head, but it didn’t matter, the beast lay face down, unmoving. Seeing this, the first goblin backed up, hesitantly.
Derak had been beside the monk as the battle erupted, and had eagerly drawn his huge, broad bladed bastard sword from his back. Now THIS was a battle he could enjoy. Two goblins charged him, side by side, gripping their rust covered blades tightly. Of course, the reach of the big man was much longer than theirs, and before they could get to him, he swung his blade hard. The blade cut deep into the flank of the goblin on the right, and got wedged like an axe in a tree. The bite was so deep, however, that the goblin dropped his blade and with only a disgusting gurgle, fell, dead. Deraks blade, however, remained imbedded in the beast. He hadn’t time to withdraw it, the other was upon him. Its jagged blade deflected off the shoulder plate of his scale male with a loud ‘Tang’. Letting go of his swords handle, the big, grubby man acted on instinct. With a mighty hook, his club like fist cracked the jaw of the goblin, sending it sprawled out on the forest floor.
On the end of the fray, only a few feet from Derak, Mahuo was forced into battle without her furry little comrade. A rather long armed, green goblin charged her, screaming with fury. The deadly spear flew from its grubby hand, over Mahuo’s head, and bounced off a tree. Skillfully, her bow was out and notched. Before the goblin could make it to her, an arrow plunged into its stomach. Grunting, the goblin halted in its tracks. Both hands went to the shaft, and it’s orange eyes fixed on Mahuo in surprise. The moment ended as a second shaft plunged into its neck, spraying black blood, and sprawling it on its back.
Meanwhile, on the total opposite side of the battle, near the kender, Damien was engaged in one on two combat. His blade was sheathed in ice, and he stood in the stance of a duelist, thrusting and swiping, keeping the uncertain goblins at bay. No goblin remains uncertain for long, and within seconds they were on the offensive. The first swiped viciously at the bard, who skillfully parried, while ducking the swing of the seconds. The first swung again, this time aiming for the bards face, an upward parry, however, left the goblins entire body vulnerable. With a scorpion like lung, the ice caked rapier was sticking out the goblins back, who, with a gasp, collapsed. Perhaps this was the remaining goblins chance, but if so, he didn’t take it. He stood, watching his comrade writhe on the ground, until Damiens blade was pointed at him. Snapping back into the battle, the goblin attacked, swinging wildly, and out of control. Taking advantage of the lack of fundamentals, Damien sidestepped, and drove his blade through the side of the goblins torso. The goblin dropped his blade, before the black boot of Damien knocked it on its side, where it was writhe until death. Suddenly, but too late, the bard realized there was a third goblin, who, creeping from behind, lunged forward with a spear that would have skewered Damien, if an arrow hadn’t snapped its ugly head back, dropping it. Following the direction the arrow had flew from, the bard saw the Satyr, grinning prettily. Bow in hand.
Witnessing the quick downfall of their companions, all onlooking goblins turned and fled either down the path, or into the brush. Gemmi reappeared. His face and claws dripping black. ahead, down the path, shouts and commotion could plainly be heard in foul, gravely voices.
Walking behind Damien Elandor took a good look at the poles with skulls that lined the path. Some were decorated nicely with big feathers and Elandor wondered where the creatures were that did this nice piece of art, and why they weren't here admiring their work.
It seemed that the 'artists' were near for after a quick escapade by Gemi a small band of Goblins jumped on the path. Suddenly realizing that the skulls had been placed not as a warning but as a display of power Elandor's appreciation of the skulls dropped fully.
"So, you're wanting my skull on a pole to then, ey?" he whispered while he shoved the hoopak from under his belt, where it had been hanging, and placed it firmly in his two hands. Readying himself by trampling his feet in excitement he added: "Well, I've got your pole already, so come and get it!"
Normally no master in face-to-face combat Elandor used the rage of the small humanoid and his own reflexes to get an advantage in this fight. Tripping the goblin he handed it the pole it had wanted, with a sickening crack of the creature's spine. His own opponent down the little kender had time to look around. He saw that the other members of his group didn't have a hard time fending off the goblins. What concerned him though was the fact that several of the ugly things got away. He didn't like the idea of them running home to mommy, or (as his imagination took a run with him) the muscled raging BARBARIAN mommy, with sharp pointy teeth and a deadly battle-axe.
Just to make sure, he stayed close Teros, reasoning that such a big strong man would distract the savage mother that would be avenging her children's death from the smaller beings in the group.