ZenFehr
(?)Community Member
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- Posted: Wed, 21 Jan 2015 23:33:54 +0000
Foaley
Foaley listened intently to Var'man, and nodded when the rat had said his bit. He didn't offer any argument, though he smirked at the commentary on bathing. If Var'man's odor was really so offensive to them, they were liable to have a hard time on the road. Perhaps they hadn't frequented the greater majority of poorer towns where waste was merely slopped out of windows and onto the streets. At the mention of pirates, Foaley turned to look down, but only moments after that, there were bandits upon them.
"What the ever-lovin' Hounds've Ganw--" before he could even finish uttering the curse, a pair of arrows streaked for the tree. They were flaming, dripping tar, and Foaley tumbled from the branch when they landed. He managed to catch himself with one hand, which left him dangling and twisting improbably to avoid yet another projectile. He shrieked a little as well, though he would probably deny the fact if it ever came up again.
One of the bandits had already taken an arrow to the face, and another was tangled up with the Earl, but two more came charging from the brush beside them. The first, a large thing in cobble-rigged armor, swung for the bard's feet. He kicked the orc's weapon aside in what looked like nothing more coordinated than a frantic gesture, and then dropped onto his shoulders. This was not as brilliant a move as he'd hoped; the bandit immediately snatched him up by one arm and slammed him heavily to the ground, where he landed with the sound of a handsome display case full of cuttlery being senselessly shattered in a drunken brawl. Foaley had managed to take the orc's helmet along for the drop, which was a small consolation in the face of the axe coming down at him.