Snippet #1532092

Talae ducked low under a slash from the Child, trying to find an opening for a counterattack, when the robed man stiffened and fell. She blinked, then smirked when she noted that Kisikoni was just behind him. Nice timing. He drew out a familiar hand signal, and she nodded quickly in response, using the knife in her left hand to draw a smooth, deep line across the other Child's throat. She didn't know how concentrated this stuff was, and thus how long anyone under its influence would stay asleep. The viscosity suggested a while, but... one could never be too sure with the Children.

She didn't have time to go back and take such measures with each regular soldier, but she'd be damned if she left a Child on the battlefield with a chance of waking up again. This time, it was she who worked in the wake of her partner, using her hand-and-a-half or dagger to leave efficient death wounds on the sleepers. By now, though, the camp was stirring despite their best efforts to remain quiet, and her ears caught the twang of bowstrings and the rush of magical projectiles, doubtless from Sid's team.

She was detained in following the path of her counterpart's destruction by a hammer-wielding orc Child, and she remembered the first of these battles with some irony. No nearby trees this time, just a substantially more prepared self. It would certainly have made an interesting litmus test, if she had the time to spare. As it was, she did not, and she sprang to the side as the hammer smashed into the earth where she had just been, and she used the moments it would take to haul the thing back upwards again to their fullest, maneuvering to the man's exposed side and sliding her knife between the armor joints there. Normally, this probably would have done little more than irritate him, but there was a reason she liked poisons so much, and he was down for the count shortly afterward, though the shift in positioning pinned her knife between metal armor plates, and she abandoned it as a lost cause for the moment.

She'd lost time and positioning, and it took her a few moments to locate where she was supposed to be in the dark. There. Kisikoni was engaged with a Child, and there was nothing else in her immediate proximity, so she moved to cover the distance as quickly as possible. Of course, this was easier said than done, as fireballs were flying about amidst the more run-of-the-mill projectiles now, and not in convenient, predictably-timed intervals either. She'd just ducked a stray arrow when she felt the telltale spike in temperature and hit the ground even as blistering pain seared her back. The scent of burnt hair informed her that she'd singed a few inches of that, too, though it was hardly consequential compared to the scorch on her skin.

Her first instinct was to remain on the ground for a while, but she couldn't exactly do that, now could she? Instead, Talae thought fast and rolled over, a coarse cry tearing from her throat at the pain this caused. Still, it was not without reason that she did so, and her wound immediately came into contact with very cold mud, which helped just enough for her to see past the red and black that swam across her vision. Did it run the chance of infecting the wound if not cleaned soon? Yes, but the fact that it soothed as much as it did was well worth it, especially given the skill of the healers in the Legion.

She climbed shakily to her feet, still clutching her sword tightly, and forced herself to jog the rest of the way to her comrade, keeping a wary eye out for Children. When she found the one that had done that... it wasn't going to be pretty. "We should probably... head to the center now," she grimaced.

---

Alistair had by this point switched to using his spear, mostly to play carrion bird and trail behind Neira, finishing off everything she did not. He had no idea if the poison on his weapon or her... arms was fatal or not, so he figured it was probably best to make sure that something was. Of course, she tore through with enough speed that he was inevitably left with wakeful stragglers also, and these he dealt death to with ruthless efficiency.

He was presently grounded, the rain making flying and fighting at the same time rather difficult. Not to mention the fact that being glossy and white of plumage was enough to make himself a prime target for arrows when airborne at night, so he replied mostly on his ability to keep enemies at a distance without too much footwork right now.

A Child and a regular armsman charged him at the same time, and he parried a blow from the former, just able to move his left wing out of the way of the second's maul. Why did they have to insist on trying to cripple him like that? He didn't have long to contemplate it, for the Child let off one of those fireballs, and he hastened away from it. Why one would be so foolish as to send a fireball careening into one's own camp, he did not know. It was likely to hit a tent more than anything else... he jabbed the point of his trident into the thing's throat before it could attempt to let of another, and did not relish in the accidental self-immolation that followed.

The armsman didn't either, actually, and was distracted enough that finishing him was a painfully simple thing. Alistair took to the skies again, trying to locate where exactly the abrasive nightmarian had gone, but he located a couple of people trying to flank the ranged combatants first, and decided that was more important at the moment.