KKL !kIdtJdFjZc 2010/10/01 (Fri) 10:15 No. 29507 ▼ File 128592814067.jpg - (22.12KB, 297x399 , garm card.jpg)
Bao shivered in the cold; this was the exact reason why she hated Lutie so much. But, this was potentially good money, especially since the Garmhunter guild practically monopolized this specific area, and the "sport" of hunting the Garm.
That, and it was fun. Fun enough for a year-long waitlist and stringent qualification standards; Bao herself had barely passed the tests this year. It was all standardized and regulated up until you had to stare down the nose of the Moon Chaser, at which point it was all on you. Bao and her group of friends have been doing this for years; this was their sixth Garmhunt. They had their routines figured out.
Bao was the Crybaby, her job along with the other four was to keep an eye out for Garm Babies--not an easy feat due to the constant swirling winds and snow combined with the fact they were made of ice, but someone had to do it. Once spotted, they'd fill it with arrows and kill it as quick as possible, repeating as necessary until the actual Garm showed up wondering why its spawn was going missing. The rest of their job was to continue putting down the babies that attempted to support their parent, and if the melee wasn't too much of a mess, assist in destroyig the Garm.
For now, Bao and her group of Garmhunters wandered the fields surrounding the town of Lutie, searching for the Garm. Chatter was mostly dead, save for talks of the mission at hand. Bahn, Bao's hawk, was perched on her left shoulder, an act that annoyed her to no end. Apparently, the bigshot wizards could magically make it so a hawk didn't freeze itself to death in this weather, but can't apply it to people or clothing. Bao took another deep breath, and snapped out of her short mental distraction from the patrolling around the snow-covered fields.
The moment you snap out of your distraction, Jessamine, a fellow Crybaby, caught your attention with a slap on the arm. Just in time, too. With a gesture to two o'clock, you spot the diminutive Garm offspring. Somewhat cute, if not for the fact that they eventually grow bigger into actual Garms. You pass along the message to the rest of the Crybabies, and then to the priests nearby. Several seconds pass by while the holy men applied their blessings to the entire group, starting with you and your team.
At Jessamine's signal, the four of you unleash a storm of clear breeze-tipped arrows, four hawks racing after the arrows. The Garm Baby goes down with a squeak as a barrage of four arrows impact its body, another four arrows flying right into its head. The four hawks circle around the body, and then dive towards a patch of snow, talons poised to attack. A Garm Baby barks in protest as the birds harass it, tearing out chunks of ice. The pup quickly dies as the birds make another pass--this time ripping out chunks of its face and eyes, while another series of arrows snuff its life out quickly.
The birds fly back to their owners, and in the nick of time too. An icy howl is sounded to your left, and the Garm comes bounding out from... well, nothing close-by looked like it hid the beast. In response to the Garm's lupine challenge, six knights charged the wolf, all armed with shields, spears, and warcries. Three priests moved forwards to assist the spearmen, while one stood by to assist the back-liners. All four of you archers moved forward to get a better bead on the little shits that would eventually pop up, while the magicians hung back and did their thing.
You'll never quite get completely used to the chaos. Almost immediately as the spears penetrated the beast's hide, those runts seemed to explode from the snow, baying for blood. Four archers, five babies. Two archers to a baby, then move on. The utmost concentration was placed into each shot, along with the swiftest speed. To you, that rush of combat heightened your perceptions in a way that gave you a kind of out of body experience.
As the knights dodged, blocked, and stabbed at the Garm, the mages behind them got to work, preforming their own magical rituals to cast their spells. They couldn't cast their biggest, flashiest, and most effective spells, it would blatantly interfere with the rest of the group.
It was a good thing all six of them were seasoned warmages, and didn't only have the biggest and flashiest spells. As soon as the hunters got out of the way, and sole priest was reasonably close to them, the mages got to work. First, they blocked off the sides and covered their backs with walls of magically created ice, then they used a flame spell to give themselves a moment's breathing room should something hostile approach them. Having already added their allies to their spell's "no kill" clause, five arcanists began their work, globes of lightning forming around their hands. Words weren't strictly needed to cast spells, but they helped to focus. With cries of 'Thor's Lightning Sphere,' each wizard fired spheres of crackling lightning, two pairs of spheres shredding two fresh pups into water, and the leftover two striking the Garm in the head. It takes a moment to smash a knight aside with its paw, before howling into the sky, summoning a ripping winter whirlwind above the unprotected mages. One of the spellcasters finishes tracing a symbol into the air. With a stomp on the snow-covered ground, a circle of runes projects outwards to cover all six magicians and the priest.
The whirlwind ripped around them, but other than causing them to shiver at the coldness, nothing happened. Wasting no time, the five wizards go back to their spellcasting while the sage reaches out with his magic, prepared to do what he was best at; interfering with magic, regardless of the user.
Spears and arrows pierced the hide of the Garm. With a snarl, it knocks down and steps on a knight with one of its forelegs, and lays into another one, a quick bite and toss sending him careening into a tree. It howls again, and the beginnings of a blizzard appear again, abruptly stopping before it reaches full steam. The four standing knights take this moment to jam their weapons into the beast's neck's underside, while a torrent of electricity strikes its head, followed by a barrage of arrows.
With a gurgling whine, the great Moon Chaser dies, falling to the ground.
And then everyone looted the body of everything it was worth and left. The knights were perfectly fine thanks to magic, hooray. But then the magic wore off and they were confined to bedrest while their bodies healed from getting beaten around by a giant wolf made of ice that aspires to eat the moon. And yes, the priestesses/nurses/whatever that were tending to them were hot, although there was no scoring. Just manly talks about which girl they'd have sex with and more euphemism, double entendres, and innuendos than hats in the collection of an extremely devoted hat collector.
