Day Three of the Odinsleep (The Plains of Vígríðr - Ride of the Dark Elf Cavalry)

Day Three of the Odinsleep – 9:40 am

After Raven declines the use of Desmond's offered sword, Shadow replies with a stern look, "As you wish, Raven. I will try and stick close to you in the event you need a friend to drag you away from that sword.”

 

Morn simply nods at the elf’s decision and takes stock of his own armaments as he prepares for the coming battle.

While the others discuss tactics, Ra’ziir walks over to his elemental brethren and amends his previous orders. “You are to engage any trolls, Jotun, ogres, or dark elves we come into battle with.” He pauses and points at Shadow, “Any that look like him are enemies, BUT he is NOT. I repeat, ‘Shadow is a friend’. Any others who look like him should be attacked.” When he notices the man approaching, he raises one hand to forestall any attacks by his summoned defenders, “Let’s see what this is about…”

The dark elf looks up after hearing his name spoken aloud, “Thanks for clearing that up with the rock band because I was just about to fly away to avoid being turned into a greasy spot on the ground.”

Niklas and Desmond fall in behind Kysek, making introductions along the way as they follow the elf in search of a good ambush spot. The elf crosses a little over 100’ of plain and crouches down behind a low ridge. He looks at his two companions and instructs them to find hiding spots and to stay hidden until the next wave of enemies pass by but warns them not to fire until the remainder of the group has them distracted.

Arthur invokes the magic of his shield and flies up into the air once more, his eyes trained on the field below while Korbin flits over the rolling plain toward the walking figure. Raven watches the bird and the walker intensely, waiting to determine whether or not this person is a threat to the group. Grotto sidles up beside the elven warrior, “No matter what the others say, falling in battle is a great honor. Hanseath would welcome us with open arms! Next time though, leave me a part of the giant to chop down.”

The dwarven cleric then clears his throat and addresses those in the group who haven’t wandered off yet, “If we are to fight another group and they have a giant in their midst, it will be dangerous. I will need time to pray to replenish my spells and won’t be able to heal us as much after this next fight. My plan with the dazzling robe may not work so we have to be sure we can heal the group.”

Cedron pats Raven on the back as his final spell finishes its work, “That should hold you for a bit. I’ll go check on the others.”

The minstrel-priest walks away and, finding nobody in need of his ministrations at the moment decides to take the opportunity to pray to Malazzarr. He remains standing because Malazzarr teaches that Progress cannot be made if one is on his knees. A spring shower begins to fall, spattering the ground and washing away the blood and some of the gore from the previous battle. The grasses and wildflowers of the plains react instantly, growing at a visible rate and buds begin to form and open into blossoms in the span of just a few minutes. All the while, the sky grows darker and the wind begins to pick up, causing the tall grass to bend and bob in time with each gust.

Korbin finally reaches the running man and squawks at him, “Hey bud, fight’s done for now so what are you running from.”

 

Grog, the shaggy-haired man heard someone speaking but all he saw was the bird so he chalked it up to his imagination and made his way over to the fallen corpse of the Jotun. He pulled out a sharpened stone and began sawing at the massive giant’s toe until it came off in his hand. Korbin, annoyed at being ignored, flew back to the group, cursing fate that he had encountered yet another being that was dumb enough to con but not smart enough to speak. Grog, for his part, was actually a pretty bright fellow. He knew that this giant was unlike the titans he had hid from on Orhtrys.

Hansuke shapeshifts into his feline form and takes up his usual perch on Raven’s shoulder. Grotto, who is still beside the elf remarks, “I would gladly take that giant-killing sword from you if it be a burden. Killing a giant or dying while trying would be an acceptable way to pass over to the other side.” The scarred dwarf looks around until he spots Cedron, the only other healer in the group and approaches him, “Surely your spells must be depleted. We must rest and pray before we move on. The greatest tactics in the world won’t do us a bit of good when the half the group is near death.” The dwarf notices that neither Cedron who is already busy praying on reflecting on the events of the day so far, nor any of the other party members seem to be paying attention to him and mutters to himself about going to replenish his spells.

Meanwhile, Raven sees the newcomer stuff the first toe into a bag slung over his shoulder. He speaks out of the corner of his mouth, “Please tell me that he’s not going to eat those.” Grog manages to hear something about eating but when he looks up again, all he sees is that same bird. His bushy brows furrow as he regards the black-feathered avian with suspicion. That’s when Shadow walks up. The drow stops a few feet from the man and addresses him, “Greetings, Toe-Cutter. I am Shadow. What manner of wine goes with toe-fu?” Morn, trailing along in the dark elf’s wake, shakes his head with a groan, “How in the worlds do you charm women with such wordplay, Shadow?”

 

While Grotto draws his axe and begins to swing it around to loosen his tight muscles, he begins to pray to his god, “Hanseath, the great and mighty, fill me with your strength that I may spill more blood in your honor. Let me carouse in victory in your name!” The dwarf takes a few more practice swings before planting his feet and clearing his mind, focusing on the martial discipline he will need before long.

 

As he raises his axe and prepares to begin his first kata, there is an ominous rumbling off in the distance and lightning flashes in the clouds above. The overcast becomes so heavy that the sun is blotted out almost completely, the sky becoming nearly as black as night.

All along the base of the wall, the companies of Einherjar take up weapons and begin looking out over the battlefield. At first, except for the change in the weather, nothing seems to be happening. But then, Kysek, then Arthur, and then the rest of the group, see them coming. Horses, black as the pits of hell, race along across the field. Each bears a rider with skin the pale white color of a maggot. Sharp angular features curled into sneering, spiteful expressions stare out at the defenders of Asgard as the charging cavalry races toward the walled city. Cruelly-tipped lances are at the forefront of the vanguard, followed by the wickedly curved swords of the second and third ranks of riders.

 

Cries erupt along the top of the wall, “Svartálfar! Svartálfar! The dark elves are coming!”

As the army of riders bears down on the Realm Eternal, they spilt into bands, each numbering a score or more of riders that charge toward the defenders on the ground.

= = = = = =
• Arthur: 94% health;
• Bubo: 100% health;
• Cedron: 93% health;
• Desmond: 100% health;
• Drax: 100% health;
• Grog: 100% health;
• Grotto: 100% health;
• Hansuke: 94% health;
• Korbin: 100% health;
• Kysek: 100% health; Stoneskin (77 minutes, 8 rounds remaining)
• Morn: 100% health;
• Niklas: 100% health;
• Raven: 86% health;
• Ra’ziir: 100% health; Stoneskin (157 minutes, 8 rounds remaining); Elemental Swarm (8 Large Earth Elementals, 1 Huge Earth Elemental, 1 Elder Earth Elemental – by the time the Elder arrives, 139 minutes, 7 rounds remaining)
• Shadow: 100% health; Overland Flight (14 hours, 38 minutes, 8 rounds remaining); Iron Body (DR15/adam, immune to blindness/critical hit/deafness/disease/drowning/electricity/poison/stunning and effects that affect physiology or respiration, Str 21 (+5)/Dex 16 (+3) attack bonus/penalty cancel out, gains +3 damage, ASF 50%, -8ACP, 12 minutes, 8 rounds remaining);
• Spewer: 100% health;