Snippet #1500961

Kisikoni said move, and she wasn't about to argue. Talae sprang out of the way, though she felt the residue of a deep human's primeval horror and suppressed a shudder. It was not her that it was directed at, after all. Ultimately, though, the entirety of their combined attack seemed to do little but piss the thing off, and for whatever reason, it saw fit to address its grievances with herself and the knife-wielding Legionnaire.

And shit, did it hit fast! Still, speed was her primary talent, too, and she was able to keep up with the volley of attacks launched at her- if only enough to avoid dying. Under, left, under, over, right, back... dodging seemed like a much, much better idea than parrying at this point, as if she had the time to raise her blade at all anyway. A talon caught her a good one across the stomach, though, shredding through her hide-armor as though it were scarcely-present at all.

Stumbling back, Talae took rapid steps to avoid being thrown at the ground, but her position gave her a new perspective in the situation. It seemed Caine had launched himself into the air and was trying to position himself to land on the beast's back. Now there was an idea. Thinking it was worth a shot, she reached for one of the many belt-pouches at her waist and removed a flask of toxin. If by chance Kain managed to land as hard as she thought he would, it was entirely possible the dragon would open his maw wide enough for her to toss it in. This particular poison was only toxic when ingested or thrown into an open wound, so the risk in the event of regurgitation was minimal to everyone but her newly-injured self. Good thing she believed in antidotes.

Still, it was fast-acting and highly venomous, which made it a good option. This much probably wouldn't kill something as big as a dragon, but it would certainly slow it down, being of the depressant variety of toxin. She'd just have to time it right, but if at any point she saw that thing open it's jaws wide enough, it was going to be getting a mouthful of something awful. For the moment, she went for playing the distraction, wielding her sword one-handed and gripping the flask firmly in her left.

Sliding in at it's side, she went for the membranous wing, hoping that the leathery things would tear easier than scales. Didn't want it flying off with the berserker on board when he landed, after all.

---

Alistair was buffeted by the dragon's abrupt departure. Well, 'buffeted' might be putting it lightly. He was fairly certain that it had cracked a rib, but that wasn't going to slow him down. He thought of pursuing it immediately, but his sharp eyes caught something happening below, and he could make out Faera Shanir trying to fight off a tawny-plumed harpy woman. There was a blast of some kind of magic, which appeared to stun the woman, but not for long, and the dark elven mage looked overwhelmed. Her construct and his own both were too close to risk a hit in case the blind girl got caught in the crossfire.

Time was minimal, but Alistair pressed his wings in close to himself, diving at the feathered Child with impressive speed. His spear hit dead on-target, and burst out the woman's front with a spatter of gore which the part of him that was still good-natured, affable Alistair hoped dearly did not hit the young Shanir. "Careful," he cautioned gently, but he had no time to say more, for something passed overhead.

A construct, as it turned out. He caught sight of Lily upon it and shook his head slightly. An elf in the sky... just when he thought he'd seen it all. Smiling to himself, he decided now was not the time to let himself be outdone by a groundwalker, and with a few powerful strokes of his wings, he was once again level with both huntress and hatchling.

She shouted something suitably dramatic, and Alistair resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The young ones were like that sometimes. He was most certainly not, not anymore. Dispensing with extraneous motion, he wheeled to the side, maneuvering himself underneath the dragon's belly. Ideally, it would be distracted enough by Lily's rather... loud presence to scarcely notice the near-silent winged man beneath it. This in mind, Alistair stabbed for the juncture between jaw and throat, figuring that was as close to a vital spot as one of these things had, ready to move again in case it decided to stop defying gravity for any reason.