War on the Wind - (Closed)

The first of the volucris leapt at the five members of Falcon who guarded the mouth of the cave. It was Rachel who drew first blood, her alesensis skewering the winged being through the chest. She yanked the blade free, kicking the body back as she prepared for the next opponent. Beside her, Gareth locked blades with a screeching volucris, her scimitar reinforced by the flat of her hand against the blunt side of the sword.

William had cut down two already, bringing his alesensis up to deflect a dangerous swing towards his flank. Heather ducked under the lunge of one volucris, parried a second, then reaped the head off the first attacker. A crimson flow jettisoned from the new opening in the volucris's body as he crumpled to the floor.

At the centre, Robert had decaputated one opponent, now he was stuck in a deadlock with another. The creature snarled and growled. Robert wondered if it was frustrated about the deadlock, or just a tactic to distill fear in him. Either one did not matter, he would not allow the creature to best him.

"Why do you struggle, Human?" queried the Volucris, saliva strings stretching between lips as he spoke.

For a moment, Robert found himself taken back by the coherent words spoken; it was highly contrasting to the beastly snarls and growls that had been emitted just seconds before. "Such a question isn't even worth answering," he Retorted before headbutting his opponent, sending the creature staggering back for another of his race to take his place. "Daggers!" roared Robert before the creature had reached him. He whipped his dagger from his belt and brought it slicing upwards through the volucris's chest then neck. His fist connected with the creatures chin and sent him sprawling back.

All before them the creatures fell to the sudden switch from alesensis to daggers, but Robert knew surprise was but a drop in an ocean here. Deeming it time, he ordered the switchback, and the five members of Falcon drove a second wave of death through the enemy ranks.

"Do not falter!" snarled a voice. Robert managed to locate its origin. The volucris he had headbutted stood glaring at those who had wavered in their attack. "We are Volucris! We are lords of the sky and land!"

"We need reinforcements, Avis!" spoke another of the volucris.

Robert connected the words, and realised that Avis was the name of the volucris he'd sent staggering back, and who clearly led this small force of the creatures. He smashed the hilt of his sword into the face of his opponent, a satisfying crunch giving the tell tale sign for a broken nose. The volucris fell back, blood dripping from his nostrils. It looked up too late to avoid the tip of Robert's blade as it plunged deep into his neck, almost severing his head.

Looking around for his next opponent, he found the volucris retreating from the cave, taking flight once in the open. Only one stood, glaring at Robert with eyes that seemed almost able to drag your very soul in. Then with a screech of frustration, the volucris named Avis took flight.



It was coming towards midday when the walls of Fort Ragnil loomed ever closer in the distance, brightening the spirits of the group who'd trudged on in wary caution and downtrodden moods after the battle with the volucris. For the most part, everyone had kept to themselves since leaving the cave, Robert included. Apart from making the necessary checks of how each person was doing, he rarely spoke, contemplating the confrontation.

One thing that struck him, was the fact that instead of picking them off one by one with their bows, they had charged in to meet them head on. Yes, it was an honourable way to do combat, and it certainly helped keep them alive, but why would the volucris choose such an action when they could have possible killed every one of them with little to no casualties on their own side. It was parculiar. Then there was the one called Avis. Was he the reason? Clearly he was the one in charge. The subject was cloudy, and he wondered if that too would be another thing he would never get to know.

Such thoughts faded now, the fort in sight, enemies nowhere to be seen. He smiled to William, and increased the pace. Despite the fact they'd walked throughout the night, he, as well as the rest, had a new revitalised spring in their step. Finally, they would reach safety. Soon the voices of sentries could be heard, and he watched as a figure stepped atop the walls to scrutinise the approaching group before disappearing behind the wall line. The gates began to open and with a sigh of relief, Robert led the surviving men and women through.