Vhalar 3rd 719
-‡- It was after they passed the fork in the corridors, where the squad had separated to go both paths, that this scene would unravel. For along the corridor that was pursued to catch up with the leader of the squad, and those who had followed her through it's length, Coroths ears began to hear the distant sound of lorien being hollered along the echoing walls. Through the echoes, he could feel the conflict of another encounter, one perhaps more critical than the ones they had encountered so far. One which the remaining handful of avriel who were with him were quick to look at one another to confirm the decision that was to be made amongst them.
In another breath, their gear sounded in his ears jostling where they were strapped upon their figures. Weapons were being deftly pulled from sheaths and breaths began to take in the chill in the air that the cavern was providing for them to breath in. Yet, the air had an acidic taint to it. As if there was some pool or source of pungent nature within the caves that would cause such a taint to spread so far from sight. The avriels though, rushed to their companions aid with as much haste as their rarely used legs could muster.
Coroth himself had trouble keeping up as he found himself falling behind. As an archer, he was already in the back position so his bow could be used and put into practice. Yet as young as he was, he was not used to relying on his legs, and the soreness of muscles began to thicken and disrupt his run as his breaths began to labor, and panting breaths were quick to pour forth from his lungs. He though, pushed himself to continue, he had no choice, to stop would be betraying his kin. To stop would be the chance that one of them would die without his aid, even if he was not as skilled as the others. So he had to keep going, and he did. Even as his legs began to burn with the distance, that turned out longer than they were hoping it would be*. For the longer it began to take, the longer someones life might not have for them to be reached.
None the less, afterwards his breaths would cause him to keel over onto his knees to gain them again, the others began shouting at the tops of their lungs, to distract the haired beasts of spiders that were within the opening chamber before them. One of the avriels of the first group was already paralyzed, unmoving, and wrapped up in a length of silk or perhaps the weave of a quickly spun web that kept him pinned to the ground where only the most subtle movements occasionally could be noticed that hinted that he was still alive.
Two other of the avriel were flanking a larger spider than the ones they had encountered earlier. Its' fangs were dripping venom onto the floor beneath it. It's many legs were quick and lethal as they allowed it to prance about between the two fighters who lunged at it with spear and sword in turn. Their aggravation at their inability to kill it was upsetting them. For it was quicker than them, and one of them was already covered partially in webbing, though some of it was noticeably torn free, and hanging loose from the leather pauldron upon his shoulder.
There was another spider too, similar to the other, brown with linings of fur along it's limbs that led to a darker torso that they were all attached to. Beneath one of it's legs, one of the avriels was pinned, covered in webbings which disabled him from moving, the body was being pulled hungrily from the line of other avriels to draw it away, so he could be eaten, or kept for later at least. Yet the few others of the separated group were there, fighting it, or trying to keep it from taking their kin with it.
Coroth in turn, when his breath had regained enough from the run, loosed an arrow from the satchel at his back. Beneath his wing a quiver was harnessed upon his back. The arrows were tied in a sack at the top of it so they would not fall loose during flight, but it was still open from earlier. And the arrows were able to be quickly withdrawn. The feathers were eyed as they came before his eyes whilst notching at the bow. His tongue sent to speed up the process of fixing one of the feathers along its' end to straighten them. Something he hastened to figure out in that moment, and found it worked good enough to suit his whims*.
In another moment, he concentrated on his breaths, on holding them to shrill movements in the cage of his chest as his lungs labored to feed his body oxygen from the pumping of his legs only seemingly a handful of moments earlier. His concentration was set as he fought to determine how best to aim with his bow. And pointed the tip and brought the arrow shaft near to his eye so he could determine it's geometrical path. Then it was loosed. It whirred through the air, the feathers a blur of spinning color to the wooden spur that struck into the spider a moment later. Only it missed the body, driving into one of it's legs to protrude through it's other side.
He silently cursed at his luck, and ill skill. Yet, his fingers were taking up the habit of retrieving another arrow to fit to his bow as his muscles took up the habit from memory like a machine on its' own accord. The shaft was drawn backwards to try again with the aiming, taking a few moments as the spider weaved from side to side as it evaded the lunges of spears and blade that were sent to marr and scrape through the fur that concealed just how much farther they would have to slice to get at the flesh beneath.
The next arrow flew through the air, shattering with an echo against the cavernous walls beyond the spider. Perhaps he was not aiming as well as he hoped. A sigh of degradation at his abilities to help his kin was released. Another arrow was watched as his fingers pried it towards him. The bow felt bending more and more at it's ends as its strength was put into use. Waiting then, as he aimed, for one of the avriel to clear the shot for him as they danced a dance of death and lethal blades with the creature.
It was then, that he looked up, and determined that the ceiling of the chamber was high enough for him to fly. He did just that, his wings unfurled behind him, and pushed him off of the ground. Raising him to a height that allowed him to feed off a series of arrows as he new his supply was beginning to run out. One of them finally buried itself into the creature below after a few were sent from above.* The angle sent it burying into the creatures head, perhaps it was with luck. For as he sought to send another one into it to make sure it would die, it flew too wide, scraping past one of it's legs to bounce and break into the stone of the cavernous floor it stood upon.
It was then that the beast began to stumble as it's blood was loosed from the impaling shaft. Two of the avriels took the opening and charged in to stab and pierce at it's underbelly several times with quick repetitions. Pouring its lifes goo from the opening of orifices. It was then,that Coroth felt a blood raging need to join in. His bow was slung over his shoulder to hook at the quiver behind him so it would not fall away. In a searching breath, his hand grasped at the spear that was harnessed beside the quiver, also beneath the side of his wing at his back. Wings that flapped and caused winds to stir around him as he watched. As his lithe digits fought at the harness' latch to release it, and finally, blindly remembered how to bring it into his grip.
In another breath he was descending, a charge from the air. The spear was long enough to be held at a distance from his side. Both hands were upon it to give it a rigid position to be sent from. His wings fancied the dankness of the caverns air as they shifted, and were quickly batting through the emptiness around him to send him into a quickened flight. A descent that would impale the creature crumbling below as it now fought for the remnants of its' life.
From above it, it saw him in his approach, saw the sharpened end of his spear as it was aimed directly for it. His ability to fly in the cavernous surrounding wavered some as he drew too near. For the spider suddenly saw him, and reared upwards, its fangs dangerously large and of a size that could easily pierce through his head alone. He had to shift his dive, causing the spear to bury into the creatures flank. Blood ran out in short spurts as the laceration was made, as fur was lunged through, and the spears tip skidded across hide to gauge again, here and there, before it had to be pulled away. His wings suddenly keeping him from landing on top of it as it reared upwards to catch at one of his continually weaving wings.
One of his wings was suddenly obstructed from use as a glob of silk webbing was sent against it's interior in those quickly flickering moments of action. It caused him to fall suddenly behind it. The softness of the feathers at his wings were felt through his leather curraiss as he rolled onto the ground. The last echoing cries of the creature sounding off into the corridors adjoining to the chamber and to his very ears as the others of the squad took the moment to finish it off completely.
Breaths were still panting from his lungs after attempting to encounter such a large spider so close. The rearing of the creature could have captured him, and done more damage. He was sure of it. The sounds of his kin boosting each others moral passed to his ears as they rushed to help stave off the second spider that was still fighting for it's life with a fiercer menace. His own moral was felt increasing with the flow of adrenaline, and the rush of the moment. His hands pushed against the dirt upon the stonery beneath him, pushing himself back onto his feet to join them. =‡=