FH: Cutting Worthless Objects

[Jim Roberts]

[Feb 5 AM – The Waterworks]

> There was no Bardic magic behind the verses, the performer choosing to
> husband her resources. But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t quote
> from an obscure bit of Yelti, or possibly Numenorean Lore.

However, resource conservation was not a universal view. Once Laquendi
had taken that quick step back, she prepped a lump of Seaweth’s Patented
Wax Coated bat guano, and began to chant, her hands tracing out a
pattern of red and orange glowing sparks that hovered in mid air. A
spark trail that held a few indigo highlights, a twist that might have
puzzled any other Arcanist had they been paying attention.

But long before anyone else could even see the goats, Laquendi finished
her chant, and a brilliantly glowing indigo pellet shot forth from her
pointing finger, racing downrange, passing out of sight. In the darkness
beyond, there was a dull CRUMP… and a quartet of frozen and quite
deceased goatcicles skidded just into the limits of “normal” elven view.

“That got ‘em?” Jeyshann asked testily, having to speak up over the
still roaring neighing of homicidal goats.

“That got ‘em,” Finfin confirmed.

“Probable incoming behind them!” Laquendi called out warningly, her
Darkvision confirming what everyone by now could hear.

“Make that two,” Laquendi amended. “Inbound, fast.”

She followed this announcement with another Arcane chant, her hands
tracing out a glowing pattern of red and orange lines, with sparkles of
yellow. A series of 5 missiles streaked out with a WHOOSH, heading
unerreringly all into one of the pair of goats that so far, only she
could see.

Off in the darkness, there was a bleat of pain, but the two goats
continued their inbound charge. When they came within 40 feet, first
Finfin and an instant later the rest of the elves could see the
onrushing menaces. Finfin raised his blade up into what the elves
describe as “Tiro uin Elenath”, or rather, the "Guard from the Stars”,
which those of a less poetic nature would dub a simple high guard. Just
behind him, Laurelin drew a pair of blades, ready to puree anything that
got past the elven captain.

However, Lomi was now able to see, if not the whites, at least the glint
of the goats eyes, and began to fill the air with arrows. Two found
their mark, and the goat that had survived Laquendi’s Magic Missile
barrage ceased surviving.

The final goat bore down on Finfin, who at the right moment unleashed a
simple overhand cut, and two halves of a goat fell in either direction.
The elf was fully prepared to continue his cleaving attack on any other
goats within reach… but none were. Nor did Laurelin decide it was worth
attacking either half of a now deceased goat.

“And I thought goats smelled bad on the outside,” Laurelin chuckled.

“I am not sure these goats are sanitary,” Tramma observed dubiously.
“Considering where we found them.”

“Creatures that live on industrial toxins and excrement tend to taste a
little strange,” opined the Drow. “Upside, some have been flash-frozen.”

“Cook ‘em up for Stern,” Lomi quipped. “He’ll eat anything.”

“Now six more!” Laquendi called out.

“Perhaps a bit of resource conservation?” Finfin observed mildly.

“The *goats* do not appear to be worried about that,” Lomi observed
sourly, nocking another arrow. “But, yeah, perhaps we should.”

“I am going to use my last fireball,” the silver-haired Elf groused.

“You may wish to reconsider,” Finfin suggested. “The Galdis and I have
this.”

“So much for the ‘fireball everything in sight’ option,” Tramma sighed.
“Oh well, no boom today.”

“There’s always a boom tomorrow,” Jeyshann smirked coolly. She flexed
her hands, causing dull black claws to appear, and took a step forward,
waving the Abbot to take a stand beside her. “We’ll handle any who get
past our elven friends; cover us, ladies, and stay tight.”

“Sing out if anything comes up behind,” Ben nodded, settling himself and
raising his shield. “I doubt enough will get past the Captain and the
Galdis to prevent one of us from pivoting back to cover if that happens.”

The six goats continued their maniacal charge forward, though for most
of their run, only Laquendi could actually see them. But all could hear
the clatter of hooves and the murderous bleats. The dusky elf briefly
considered expending some minor magic to allow her to clamber up a wall,
there to snipe with spell or ranged weapon, while safely out of range.

But at the last minute, she paused, deciding instead to remain on the
ground, slightly beside and behind the elven officer and the equally
elven High Priestess. Should they be able to withstand the goat charge
and open up a hole in the Goat Offensive Line, Laquendi might be able to
turn such a hole to their advantage. Assuming, of course, that Finfin in
particular would be able to stop his share of the goats from swarming
around him and continuing on to overrun Laquendi herself. But these were
the chances one simply had to take.

As the goats closed, the rest of the elves could now see the onrushing
menace. Laurelin held not one but TWO arming swords before her, one in
either hand. This was, to say the least, an unusual weapon choice, but
these swords were the Favoured Blade of her Patron. And those who had
seen Laurelin in action had seen that the priestess was well able to
handle both blades with no impediment.

Finfin, meanwhile, was sticking with his preferred sword style, a single
arming sword, used with both hands on the hilt. He was holding the blade
down low, facing outwards somewhat and off to the side in an obscurely
named guard that translated roughly to “The Ward of the Boar’s Tooth”.
Those preferring more pedestrian terms, however, would call it a simple
variation of a low guard; it was his favoured guard from threats down
low when he wished to unleash a powerful sweeping cut before him.

The humans slightly further back could just see the elves making ready,
but nothing else. Nothing, that was, until the goats crashed into the
melee line. Laurelin slashed her two blades before her, drawing a bloody
line down the side of one goat, while intercepting and deflecting two
goat charges with her ever moving swords.

On Finfin’s side of the melee line, things took a particularly gory
turn. Three of the onrushing goats fairly exploded into a spray of meat
and offal as the elven officer’s blade tended to its grim work, leaving
at least one goat liberally sprayed on the adjacent wall in an obscene
mess that only a particularly twisted artist could savour. The few goat
attacks left he easily turned aside with his blade, mortally wounding a
fourth goat in the process. However, his edge alignment was off on his
final sweeping blow as he tried to finish off Laurelin’s wounded goat,
his sword cut bouncing harmlessly off of the animal's thick hide. Rather
than preen at his accomplishments, Finfin hissed in vexation; he’d
rather been hoping to have been able to have been able to make a clean
sweep of five goats. This left two remaining goats, both attacking the
High Priestess.

Unnoticed behind them all, the glowing globe flashed in warning that
this sort of gruesome slasher activity could easily lose them their PG
rating.

A tossed dagger from Jeyshann nicked Laurelin’s wounded goat. The Cat
Priestess had tried to assist her fellow priestess, but the goat would
need more than that to finish it off. Which Lomi was happy to provide, a
trio of arrows ending the much maligned goat’s life, while injuring the
sole remaining goat still attempting to batter the elven priestess.

Five more goats came barrelling down at the Abbot’s Away Team, all while
several tried to finish off the lone survivor from the previous wave
that was still harassing Laurelin. None had quite finished the job
before the new wave of goats came crashing in. Finfin’s blade flashed
out… and all five goats expired, in one case, especially messily. Not
before one of the goats managed to ram the elven priestess at his side,
though. The goat had clearly wanted to impale the elven lady, but was
taken by surprise by her previously unseen elven chainmail that easily
turned aside the point of its horn, resulting in a mere glancing blow.

Finfin held a dramatic pose for a moment, and then made an obscure quote
in Southern Sindarin, quietly satisfied with his performance. From the
rear rank, Tramma asked curiously, “Once again I have cut a worthless
object…?”

The elf nodded. “A phrase favoured by my original instructor.”