09-30-2011, 07:08 AM
OOc: The area is near the Sugarwoods. Hope this is okay for a starting post! >_< Dinnin, the 'Hunters' and the 'overseer' are NPCs. You're free to Powerplay them if you'd like. ^^ The Overseer is a female and is standing next to Dinnin near the entrance to the horse-shoe. Let me know if something needs to be changed!
Pre-dated: August 23
Time of day; Dusk
Huffing with exhaustion, Drizzt drew his combat knife up and clamped his teeth, holding the blade in place. He dropped his right hand to pull a draw rope along with his left hand. Within a few moments, the Russian had his trap set. He quickly checked his work to ensure he had properly set both the log, and the trip wire. Raising his head, the man snapped to attention as he heard the snap of a tree branch. His eyes ran through the nearby trees and shrubs, searching for any sign of his pursuers.
Dinnin was still alive and well enough to chase the lost assassin, and had managed to rally the remaining hunters as well. The hunters had chased Drizzt’s scent all the way to the Serena reserve before the Prince had turned about and run right through them. He had managed to lure the hunting party this far, and he had his reasons. The Russian had retreated into an area that held no escape. The area around him formed a natural ‘horse-shoe’ cliff face, with the lowest points being directly south of him. Back where Dinnin and his hunters were forming a line to prevent his escape. The man once known as the ‘Champion of Chaos’ was boxed in.
But Drizzt had not come this far to die now. He moved from his tree fall trap and paced out ten yards, then dug an even, shallow hole in the ground, measuring two inches deep, three wide, and four long, roughly. After putting his own foot in the hole, he grunted to himself and chopped some branches from nearby shrubs to cover it and spread near to it. Once finished, the man paced five yards and repeated the process. Afterwards he moved back towards his log, the distant calls from Dinnin’s hunting group reaching his ears. He looked up at the old wood and used his feet to make an ‘X’ a few feet away from the falling spot. His eyes wandered to the sky as the sun finally crested the western horizon. It was late again.
The Russian male turned his attention to the ground again and realized his knife was grasped firmly in his right hand. He frowned and relaxed his hand, placing the small blade back into it’s sheathe. He still had around an hour before the paced hunters would arrive. Dinnin would throw all but two of the hunters at him before coming in himself. As strong as he was, the larger wolf was afraid of being injured. He only fought tired opponents. And the younger wolf had to admit, it was working well. But the chase had worked both ways. The hunters were likely as exhausted, or even more so than him. And Dinnin was weighed down by his weapon and armor. Drizzt had a chance, as long as he played his hand at the right time. He gathered his remaining ropes and went about making a few snare traps a hundred yards ahead of his other traps to slow the hunters. They were only fodder.
Drizzt was tying his third trap when he heard the first howl. He dropped the rope and spun to his feet, drawing a single scimitar. His body was in motion immediately, heading straight to the source of the howl. The wolf was only a few hundred yards away, but the signal was given. He had to move fast to gain the advantage. He caught the first hunter with a quick thrust to the throat when he burst from a nearby shrub. He heard a second howl, and a third. He set his feet and prepared for the arrival of the remaining hunters.
Pre-dated: August 23
Time of day; Dusk
Huffing with exhaustion, Drizzt drew his combat knife up and clamped his teeth, holding the blade in place. He dropped his right hand to pull a draw rope along with his left hand. Within a few moments, the Russian had his trap set. He quickly checked his work to ensure he had properly set both the log, and the trip wire. Raising his head, the man snapped to attention as he heard the snap of a tree branch. His eyes ran through the nearby trees and shrubs, searching for any sign of his pursuers.
Dinnin was still alive and well enough to chase the lost assassin, and had managed to rally the remaining hunters as well. The hunters had chased Drizzt’s scent all the way to the Serena reserve before the Prince had turned about and run right through them. He had managed to lure the hunting party this far, and he had his reasons. The Russian had retreated into an area that held no escape. The area around him formed a natural ‘horse-shoe’ cliff face, with the lowest points being directly south of him. Back where Dinnin and his hunters were forming a line to prevent his escape. The man once known as the ‘Champion of Chaos’ was boxed in.
But Drizzt had not come this far to die now. He moved from his tree fall trap and paced out ten yards, then dug an even, shallow hole in the ground, measuring two inches deep, three wide, and four long, roughly. After putting his own foot in the hole, he grunted to himself and chopped some branches from nearby shrubs to cover it and spread near to it. Once finished, the man paced five yards and repeated the process. Afterwards he moved back towards his log, the distant calls from Dinnin’s hunting group reaching his ears. He looked up at the old wood and used his feet to make an ‘X’ a few feet away from the falling spot. His eyes wandered to the sky as the sun finally crested the western horizon. It was late again.
The Russian male turned his attention to the ground again and realized his knife was grasped firmly in his right hand. He frowned and relaxed his hand, placing the small blade back into it’s sheathe. He still had around an hour before the paced hunters would arrive. Dinnin would throw all but two of the hunters at him before coming in himself. As strong as he was, the larger wolf was afraid of being injured. He only fought tired opponents. And the younger wolf had to admit, it was working well. But the chase had worked both ways. The hunters were likely as exhausted, or even more so than him. And Dinnin was weighed down by his weapon and armor. Drizzt had a chance, as long as he played his hand at the right time. He gathered his remaining ropes and went about making a few snare traps a hundred yards ahead of his other traps to slow the hunters. They were only fodder.
Drizzt was tying his third trap when he heard the first howl. He dropped the rope and spun to his feet, drawing a single scimitar. His body was in motion immediately, heading straight to the source of the howl. The wolf was only a few hundred yards away, but the signal was given. He had to move fast to gain the advantage. He caught the first hunter with a quick thrust to the throat when he burst from a nearby shrub. He heard a second howl, and a third. He set his feet and prepared for the arrival of the remaining hunters.