1964-10-25 - Asgard Aflame: Alfheim II
Summary: Attacking fire goblins from Muspelheim.
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Theme Song: None
sif karnilla 


.~{:--------------:}~.


Sif touched down where the goblins rode aback fire bats; creatures of ash and flame sharing their terrible gifts with the forest they befell upon. Her eyes took in the battlefield - the angles, the opponents, their tactica. Her sword extended to them slowly, each in turn, and there was a small smile that grew. She was not unfair, ruthless, but not unfair. There was a projection that came not from the lungs, but from her station and the will of War that drove it relentlessly ever forward. "Leave now or your lives are forfeit to me upon this battlefield. You have called War, and War has come for you." She didn't give them any warning beyond that and sprang into action.

Sif needed only two running steps to launch her as she jumped at the incoming Goblin above. Morsstryke circled upwards taking her around with the force of momentum as it bit into both mount and rider and cleaved them through and through. There may be surrenders. They may be scattering. That was not her concern and she spared no second thought for the cowards that fled. They called her, if not word then in deed, and she came to clean house as War does.


What wicked goblins of Muspelheim delight so in the conflagration they build out of Alfheim's lovely greenery. Leaves erupt in balls of sparks. Trees take longer to ignite, their sap and bark giving some protection, but hurled balls and the fiery auras surrounding those flame-realm denizens simply cause things to combust by proximity. Shrill cries and harsh, crackling voices might well be laughing. The numbers emerge through thin rifts in the fabric of the plane, appearing in numbers that squeeze through. With the imps giving winging protection, they all scatter in varied directions. No signs of light elves anywhere, but then the siege could possibly take them by such surprise they fled or turned into nasty flaming bodies on the ground.

No one much responds to Sif's declaration, as such. In the fire's defense, it can only abide by physical laws.

The plum-haired sorceress immediately opens her hands, and a series of searing leaf-green lies emerge, spiralling around her. Their leaps and bounds are largely invisible after a few inches, but the threads of the tapestry show Karnilla where exactly to look. She gestures ahead of her. "These holes cannot be mended swiftly. The fiends slipping through the breaches make merry of the wood here, though commit thyself to stemming their tide and I will erase these myself, aye?"


|ROLL| Sif +rolls 1d20 for: 4


Sif nodded, crouched where she landed, her eyes never leaving the targets. They didn't run. Good thought she, I hate fighting cowards. Quick steps carried her forward to the front. Boot to earth launched her with the spring in her step up to the trees to hewing another Goblin off its mount. A foot landed on the fire bat and launched herself at the next one coming at them.


|ROLL| Karnilla +rolls 1d20 for: 1


Those flaming creatures reveal an agility on the wing. The imps are intelligent enough to rotate and flap away from a threat while their riders blow flames or spread embers to engulf another tree or two. Torch flame aspens and honeydews blaze in the hazy smoke rolling across the landscape. Those high up leap from the crowns of trees in the canopy, sending down radiant showers that eagerly form cascades eating everything flammable. At least Sif's sword isn't threatened by that.

Unfortunately, a few of those fire demons don't seem to have the least idea of what she is, and one tries to burn up her tabard and leathers. Bad choice, really; that's a critical error for being skewered and bouncing off one another.


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