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    submitted 28 August 2013 @ 17:23
    edited 28 August 2013 @ 17:24

Drow on Patrol

Written by Micarlin

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Micarlin motioned for the patrol to crouch down. He had heard something and wanted to stop the patrol and determine where it had come from. As point guard, he was tasked with scouting ahead and to determine any danger facing the patrol.

The resident wizard, and leader of the patrol, moved close to Micarlin. “What is it?” he asked using the complex drow hand signs. “I heard grunts, low voices, guttural.” Micarlin signed back.

The Wizard, En’ Cardon by name, and a decade out of the academy, signed back to the small patrol, six in total, to take up flanking positions in the small corridor.

Micarlin, moved silently forward and drew his two swords. He pulled the hood of his Piwaffi closer to cover his flowing silvery white hair, and looked over the outcropping of the rock. His suspicions were confirmed. Goblins. He slid back along the wall and signed the confirmation. He grinned and tried to slow his breathing in anticipation of the upcoming melee.

Goblins had indeed moved into the tunnels near Ched Nasem. The Group was large, thirty at least by best guess and well armed. An advance patrol. He signed back.

En’Cardon, Nodded to Micarlin. Micarlin smiled and using his innate drow magic, cast a dome of darkness over a group of the goblins, that was off to his left flank. He leapt from his perch, and having pinpointed his targets somersaulted into the sphere and began his slaughter.

He spun and ducked, his blades whirling, and darting out as if possessed with a life of their own, each move taking a life. The Sphere dissipated, and seven bodies lay at his feet. Micarlin, was far from finished. As the rest of his patrol arrived, he noticed that the Wizard had begun his magic attack. A fireball spewed forth engulfing several of the goblins as they struggled ,and screamed dying, to form up ranks.

Micarlin, not hesitating, leapt to another group of goblins. The first thrust his spear, which Micarlin ducked by falling to his knees, he brought his blades under the attack, slapping the spear to the side, then thrust upward, disemboweling the goblin. HE regained his footing, and sprinted to his next opponent as the goblin fell behind him clutching at his guts. He spun again, double blocking another spear thrust from the left. He moved his blades along the length of the spear, and when in range flicked out with his left sword, removing the head from the shoulders of the Goblin.

Micarlin, spun right, crossing his swords and slitting the throat of another. Blood covered him and he cried out joyfully, the blood lust taking him as he struck down another and another. All laid low by his swords. Twelve in all were killed by Micarlin, eight by the wizards magics and the rest of the patrol making quick work of the others.

A victorious day for the Drow of Ched Nasem, and for the only male of House T’sarra.





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