closed.

[heorte]

WHO: ellis, marcoulf, richard and a mustache
WHAT: "it got bigger when we got involved": the log
WHEN: Drakonis
WHERE: Probably the Hinterlands
NOTES: Warning: mustaches

Ellis had seen the missive himself when Commander Flint had passed along the assignment. The complaint had mentioned bears specifically, and the possibility of hostile Venatori not at all, so it's a very unwelcome surprise to stumble into a makeshift camp while being chased by an angry bear.

Though it at least explains why the bears had been troubling the villagers. Who wouldn't be agitated when they'd been displaced from their cave?

"That one!" Ellis says immediately, pointing to the spidery fellow scrambling for his stave. "Don't let him get to his stave!"

In the chaos of bear, mage and disrupted campfire, Ellis has a moment to clock the man bound in the wagon, which is probably also something that needs to be dealt with. But at the moment, there's a bear trying to rip his face off, so—

Comments

[coeurdulyon]

Au contraire mon frère, this mustachioed man would much rather fight a bear, nay, a thousand bears than spend another minute locked inside a cage.

"Thank you, brother."

For a moment, though, he has to steady himself against the bars to keep himself from pitching toward the ground. Has he become so weak that just standing exhausts him? Have his knees always popped like this? Lucien uses the moment, however brief it is, to scan the situation.

The Vint who'd coveted his sword and shield has already become a bear's grisly amuse-bouche, not far off. It's an easy distance to cover, even with the Chevalier's weakened state, and he fetches up both at once and whirls on the bear.

[esquive]

—The bear, which is presently whirling in the direction of a backward scrambling Venatori which scrambles backwards directly into Marcoulf, whose rapier jumps from the strike to his arm, which causes the mage (who is not quite had; give it a few more seconds) to croak in agony as the blade furrows deeper into his guts.

Marcoulf curses. All things considered, it's a pleasantly clear Fuck off in the echo prone atmosphere of the cave before he recognizes the proximity of their furry friend. His subsequent Fuck off is rather less composed.

[nonvenomous]

Crouched in the allegory of the cave styled shadows of the muppet show tonight, Richard is tearing through the contents of a wooden trunk. Candles, parchment, ink, a flask (pocketed), an oil flask. Detritus cast aside, he unstops the second flask and looks back to the fight.

One of the Venatori charging into the fray lurches mid-step from the slap of the flask shattering across his turned back, scattering oil across man and possibly bear.

The vint whips around, sword in hand.

Dick holds fast for half a second, half-crouched. The beat passes; he drops the flint he has in hand and breaks to lunge for the campfire instead. This is a good idea don’t worry about it.

[heorte]

Saddled with a great many things to worry about, Ellis doesn't have much time to consider whether or not releasing the prisoner was a good thing. He seems to be in immediate support, so that frees up Ellis to decide quickly between assisting Marcoulf or assisting Richard.

The decision is momentarily deterred by the burst of fire that narrowly misses Ellis' face, but unfortunately catches his cloak on fire. Instead of being immediately useful, he's forced to try to shove out of his cloak in the same moment as he fends off the offending Venatori trying to press his advantage.

Everyone just. Survive another round.

[coeurdulyon]

The burst of fire catches not only on Ellis' cloak, the Venatori, and a small patch of the bear's fur, but also on the oil that had splattered on Lucien's blade. Quite dramatically, he dispatches the Venatori with a flaming sword in two quick strikes: first to his weapon, then to the man himself.

It's very impressive, but he's a beat too slow to properly parry the enraged bear's next swipe, managing only to avoid being gored by its claws by falling back, further into the cave.