Dire Bat (Init 18)> Biting the Peddler
Peddler (Init 12)> Clubbing the Dire Bat



Screeching madly at the tree hollow and at the trembling commoner within it, the dire bat lunged under the flailing club and bit down, dragging the man free of the hollow by a mouthful of his belly. Though toughened by years of travelling the roads of Karkova, the peddler screamed like a frightened child as the great bat tore into him. The fang wounds were deep and telling; surely the traveller was not more than a hair from Death's hand.

Enfeebled as he was with injury and exertion, the peddler swung desperately at the bat's head, but the creature was far too deft for him; releasing his belly, the bat swiftly ducked and retreated a step, allowing the club to pass without doing harm.

In Karnoz's eyes, that man's life was worth nothing more than a distraction for the winged beast, and the distraction was not passed. Light feet, pacing silently through the tall grass, came to rest beside the wagon. A bow was readied and aimed over the wagon's bed, and the arrow leveled at the broad of the creature's back was drawn back and released.




With a loud and terrible "Thunk!" the arrow punched through the leathery skin of the creature's back and bit deeply, sending a painful shudder through the bat's body. Startled with the fresh wound, the bat screeched powerfully at the heavens, then turned to seek out its injurer.




"SKRRRAAAGGGGG!!!"

Swinging its wings as it wheeled about furiously, the great bat leaped into a short glide over the wagon. Tucking his bow under his arm, Karnoz gripped the side of the wagon and swung underneath it, scowling as he heard the bat's feet thunder down onto the wagon bed. Scooting and shuffling this way and that, the bat craned its head over the edge of the wagon, screeching in primal anger as it looked under and located its quarry.

Relieved of the threat, the peddler slumped back against the towering tree, clutching at his terrible wound as he beheld the beast raging against the mysterious newcomer....





Karnoz (Init 19) > Diving and flipping up onto the wagon behind the bat, then attacking from behind
Dire Bat (Init 8 ) > Lunging under the wagon to bite Karnoz

Karnoz quickly drew another arrow from its quiver, but never had the chance to knock it before sliding under the wagon as the bat-thing landed on top of his makeshift barrier. He considered trying to shoot from his confined place, but the bat might just as easilly try to stomp the wagon down on top of him, denying him a shot.

Releasing the bow, Karnoz rolled away from the screeching head and out the other side of the wagon. Crouching, he took off at a run, but grabbed the wheel rim and using his momentum, sprang onto the back of the wagon behind the beastie while drawing out one of his long daggers.

Karnoz knew practically nothing about bat-ology, so with a snarl, he drove his blade into the creature's back where he hoped a lung or other such vital organ might be located.

**Tumble, sneak attack** (crosses fingers)

The dagger's blade punched easily through the great bat's resilient hide and slipped effortlessly between its ribs. Though Karnoz was scarcely learned with the dire bat's anatomy, a strong and copious spray of blood splattered across his mask and tunic as he yanked his long dagger free; his stab had promptly proven to be an unexpectedly telling one.




No sooner had the blow been struck than the dire bat's enraged snarls became frightened screeches. Less from ire or hunger and more from panic, the bat wheeled on its enemy and lashed out with teeth and fangs. But Karnoz's swift forearm caught the bat's lunging head at the hinge of its jaw, and its snapping maw was forcefully shoved aside and diverted from its mark.

The leathery flap of a wing swept over the rogue's torso, pushing him back as the bat turned away and hopped onto the wagon's bulwark. Though pained with its wounds and leaving twin dribbles of blood as it moved, the bat leaned forth from the wagon and spread its wings to flee to the heavens. With a solid heel Karnoz pushed off from the tailgate, his bloodied dagger still readied in hand.

By arrow and by blade the bat had been grievously wounded. An animal's primal instinct is never a thing of hatred or vengeful compulsion; in the eyes of the wild kingdom, continued survival is the only goal worth attaining. Surely the bat would flee once well and truly aloft, and it would not think to court death again with a circling return and a swoop at its injurer. Karnoz could permit the bat to escape and be content with his victory.

But then, if ordinary cattle leather were in such steady demand among the tanners, what coin could the strong yet supple hide of a dire bat command in Trock Reik...?




Karnoz >

The spray of blood was a tell-tale sigh that Karnoz' blade had struck true. More telling in that the beastie turned and began a near panicked retreat from him in an attempt to flee the battle.

The thought of just letting the thing go tickled the back of his mind, but Karnoz ignored it. It was not that the bat hide might fetch a price in Trock Reik, or that the thing might take refuge in the tree he still intended to use as a hide away.

No, the bat was wounded and Karnoz, whatever else he might be, was still the predator here. It was time for the bat-thing to die.

Giving chase, the rogue charge after the bat, seeking to again strike the withdrawing bulk if the creature and put to it down once and for all.


**(Sneak attack if possible and if the bat takes to the air, I have any number of daggers which can be flung at it)

Karnoz lunged, slicing at the bat's spine with his blade as the creature leaped forth. And it leaped forth powerfully and quickly indeed, for Karnoz's blade came away clad in a sheared tuft of the long, dense fur from the bat's upper back, but not one more drop of blood.

But the useful thing about daggers, as Karnoz knew well, is that they can be wielded at close quarters or hurled at range with equal ease, and a dagger could be switched from one mode to the other in the blink of an eye, even in the hand of a daggerman far slower and less dextrous than Karnoz. Perhaps there would be time to fling his blade and deliver a telling pierce to the aft of the giant bat's skull before it soared out of hurling distance...

...or if he leaped without the scantest of delays, he might even be able to deliver a fateful stab without the dagger ever leaving his hand. Or perhaps leap onto the bat's back, grab a fistful of that long, dense fur with his firm left hand and plunge his blade into the creature's breast as many times as needed, preferably before the bat could rise too far from the earth....


Karnoz (Init 16) >
Dire Bat (Init 9) > Soaring away high and fast....

With grit teeth, Karnoz wheeled around in a full circle, spinning nimbly on one heel. The dagger was flipped up but a fraction of a second later, he caught the tip of the blade and sent the weapon spinning and whistling through the air towards his escaping quarry.

No sooner than the first knife was sent on its way, the rogue reached to his left wrist and without wasting any movement, drew a second blade, ready to send it hurling out after the first, even if it might be extreme range. If there was a chance, Karnoz wanted that shot....

Gripped with anticipation as he was, Karnoz released the blade too soon. The dagger whispered over the bat's head as the quarry rose slowly over the ground, flapping its wings furiously to escape.




Another dagger flipped pointfirst into his hand. The bat was almost out of range for him. Somewhere in the grassland before him, his first dagger fell and pierced the earth as the next blade sliced the wind and tumbled end over end, its launch heralded only by the forceful grunt escaping the rogue's lips.




The dagger's arc rose, then fell, its whirling blade descending onto the fleeing bat below. A satisfying "thunk" sang to Karnoz's ears as the dagger bit deeply below the base of the bat's skull.

Disoriented with too much pain and blood loss, the winged beast fell into an uncontrolled glide, with the air between its belly and the ground scant but not scant enough to spare injury. Striking a small mound with its dipping snout, the bat tumbled and flopped and rolled, coming to rest none too silently in the tall grass at the outer limits of Karnoz's throwing range.




Finding and recovering all of his daggers would take a brief while, Karnoz considered, as the bat's great wings twitched uselessly. Somewhere behind him, fearful breathing subsided, collapsing in a deep sigh of relief. Karnoz was not the only heart content with the bat's looming demise, it seemed.


Karnoz >

No sooner had the bat hit the ground, Karnos lept off the wagon and sprinted to where the bat lay. Sliding to the creature's side, Karnoz snatched the still quivering hilt of his dagger and with cold finality, jabbed it into the base of the bat's neck. A quick side to side jerk was made, intending to sever the spinal column if death was not already upon the beast. In any case, Karnoz was certain the creature would never rise again.

His opponent vanquished, the rogue acted quickly. He drew out one of his newly purchased flasks and set it to the grevious wound, hoping to catch as much of the blood before the flow ceaced. He was not sure of any possible use, but being a dabbling alchemist himself, Karnoz knew that blood and other such things were often used as reagents for spells and concoctions. Perhaps there might be a market or use for dire bat blood.

The flask filled, Karnoz retreaved his dagger, (and arrow if it survived) wiping the blade on the bat's fur, he replaced it in his sheath and went to investigate the first fallen peddler nearest the wagon, catching up and slinging his shortbow as he passed the wagon.

**(a quick observation of who/what/etc)**

Bending down other the fallen, Karnoz checked for a pusle and breathing. In truth, Karnoz didn't care if death had already claimed the peddler. In fact, it would be easier if it had. Not that it mattered really. Karnoz was wel versed in ways to pinch or prick the vital blood pathways while 'checking for a pulse' or discretely crushing a windpipe while leaning over to 'feel for breath'.

Death would claim the first peddler, it was just a question if Karnoz needed to assist in the delivery or not.

Karnoz lowered his head for a moment, reaching to close the lifeless eyes of the first peddler. The final respects done, he moved over to the second peddler to assist.

**(Help him out as little as possible without being obvious. I will use his own shirt or clothing to form a makeshift bandage over the belly wound and assist him out from under the tree where I can tend him better. Keep him talking to learn who he is, what they were doing, what's in the wagon, where can I go to help them and so on)**

The dagger did its work, slicing between the bat's vertebrae and drawing that tenuous grasp on life to a swift close. Retrieving one of the crude clay vials from his belt, Karnoz put his dagger to further use, prying open the bat's existing wounds, cutting a new wound in one of the creature's neck veins and channeling the flow of warm blood along the blade and into the vial's mouth. Satisfied once the vial was filled, Karnoz replaced the stopper, turning his attention to where the halfling lay weeping and bleeding. A brief stroll through the surrounding grass revealed the gleam of light dancing along the blade of his hurled dagger, and this was quickly retrieved. He took note of the wagon's contents as he passed it again en route to the prone halfling, noticing the slight waft of brandy or rum and the twelve small wax-sealed casks of what was likely the detected beverages. Several more tied-off sacks lay under the teamster seat--five in total--but their contents could not be immediately discerned.




And dark intentions were put to actions. The torn and battered halfling's whimpering gasped as a free hand pressed down on his back in feigned compassion, immobilizing him as a second hand pressed its unyielding knuckles deep into the lower reach of the halfling's trachea. After a brief minute, the small body slipped into unconsciousness; with the strangulation maintained beyond that, oblivion would not be far behind.




The scoundrel's acting and body language were flawless; if the halfling's friend suspected anything amiss, he did absolutely nothing to betray the notion.

"Berbollyn..." the ale merchant gasped, "the bat descended on him after killing the mule...so quickly. What of Berbollyn? Is he...no more, stranger?"




A large sack tucked away in the tree hollow behind the merchant squeaked and writhed. With his mind focused on his friend's fate as it was, he could only halfheartedly brush the sack behind him. But the squeaking and writhing sack persisted, drawing a brief grimace of anger across the merchant's lips.


Karnoz >

"The other?" Karnoz asked, motioning slightly back towards the now deceased halfling. "I fear he did not make it."

His eyes made a quick scan of the tree, the merchant, the stiuation and condition before continuing.
"Lie still now friend. "he crooned, carefully feeling along the merchant's legs, sides and arms. "No broken bones? Ribs? Any other injuries?"

As one might guess, Karnoz could care less about broken bones, but his 'concern allowed him to make a quick check for concealed...anything really. The rogue doubted the merchant had another weapon. If he did, he would have used it against the bat, but one could never be too careful... There were dangerous people on the road you know.

"Do you have anything that I can use to help you with? He asked. If not, I could use your cloak as a bandage."

He administered what assistance he could, not that it would be much. Karnoz was much more skilled at inflicting injuries than correcting them.

"So who are you and what brings you here? he asked, trying to make conversation while he could. He looked back to the squeaking, wriggling bag.

"And what the hell is that?"

The surviving peddler's gaze turned bleak as Karnoz pronounced Berbollyn's fate. "Oh, that bat...that damnable bat. Poor, hapless Berbollyn. It was so very much my fault...."

The peddler dragged himself fully from the tree hollow, grunting with great pain and lying against the tree's stout trunk as his apparent benefactor looked him over.

"Lie still now friend. No broken bones? Ribs? Any other injuries?"

"The bat's bite...hggg. The beastie got lucky with that stroke, eh? My name's Kurig, by the way. Apologies for belated introductions, hmm."

Karnoz continued looking Kurig over, though his examinations bore a motive far from selflessness.




Besides the simple improvised club, the merchant's pouches jingled with roughly 40 coins; the metals of those coins could only be guessed, but Karnoz was familiar with both the dull scraping of copper and the resonant clinks of platinum, both of which met his ears as he brushed the coinpurse aside. A small pouch which bore the scents of crisp, fresh leeks and fire-dried beef hung from the belt beside the coin purse...a ration of food, certainly. His shirt was tough brown flannel, his vest bore the coarse fur of gray timber wolves, and both sharply contrasted with the purple sheen and silver-dusted trim of satin pantaloons below...trousers designed for elegance, not for function. His durable fur-lined boots, though serviceable, were crafted from the yellow, dimpled hides of what could have been Omikoroan antelopes--rare creatures in Karkovan lands--and the crafty fellow had thought to hide a narrow, stoppered flask of dull yellow liquid--and many shimmering particles within that liquid--inside his left boot. But even this could not escape Karnoz's inquisitive gaze; whatever the liquid was, it seemed to be a magic potion, and Kurig evidently saw great enough value in it to conceal it from a highwayman's eyes.

"Do you have anything that I can use to help you with? He asked. If not, I could use your cloak as a bandage."

"The cloak shan't be necessary," Kurig answered. "The wagon...beneath the seat I keep a healer's kit for such times as this. It lies inside a brown bladder bag...ghhh...and I certainly could use it now. If you may be so kind, another bag under the teamster seat has bottles of wine. Bring a bottle to me, and you may have another bottle for yourself. Mulloroon Estates...a cabernet, Vintage 1332. Very good wine, though I've little of it. Most of my wine is that affordable yet bitter Horsewold Vineyards swill...."

A wine and ale merchant, Karnoz surmised, which would explain why his words were more refined than those of a typical travelling merchant. But the question of the writhing sack remained....

"And what the hell is that?"

Kurig's countenace paled. "Oh...the sack. A spot of side work. Berbollyn's idea...the idea which killed him, I suppose."

The sack squealed and squirmed in protest as Kurig dragged it from the hollow and set it beside him, then unraveled the knot sealing the bag's mouth. "Berbollyn knows...knew of a halfling village...Erbel, two days' ride south of here. There is a pony trainer who also grooms and trains exotic steeds...wolves, stags, great snakes...some say that he even trained a griffin or a hippogriff once. But he has to train them when they're young, so Berbollyn wondered how much gold the trainer would pay for these."

Kurig's hand closed around the scruff of the neck behind an infant creature's large ears, bringing its tawny-furred head and black, beady eyes from the sack for Karnoz to see.

A baby dire bat...and two more just like it in the sack, if Karnoz's judgements of the sack's writhing bulges was true.

In the end, Berbollyn's ambitions certainly had proven to be dangerous.


Karnoz >

Karnoz went back to the wagon and hopped back inside. Following his instructions, he rummaged about, looking to retrieve the stowed healer's kit and take a moment to check the remaining bags.

Returning, he laid out the kit and proceeded to bind Kurig's wound. Afterwards he made an improvised lean-to from a traveling cloak which served to keep the sun from Kurig's eyes.

And all the while, they made small talk, about the wagon, Kurig's business, the pony trainer and Erbel.... just to pass the time while Karnoz treated his newfound friend.

"With your situation and the mule not able to help, " Karnoz said matter of factly. "It might be best if we returned to Trock Reik. I dare not leave you in case the bat has a mate nearby, but I can make a drag litter and pull you behind me. It would not take long to do so and the town is not so far away."