Quest for Runes (the Rune Chaser way)

Psyre had told Cadfael where to go and then said he would meet him on the other side. Now, Psyre stood in front of the River. The place he had chosen to ford was the one he had been told his ancestors had used, years before, when many went to learn the runes and bring them back. The River was slow, almost sluggish, but still emanated danger. No, not danger, power. Just across the River, there was the heart of the Wild. The unspoken language of everything. 

The slow, chill water was shallow here, but the rocks still looked incredibly slick. Psyre began to cross, using his staff as a walking stick. His progress was faster than he expected, the way easier, but he still almost slipped a number of times. He couldn't fathom how people could have done this for a profession, crossing the River twice a day, facing danger at every turn. There was something exhilarating about being so close to Nature, the very essence of all that was, and Psyre found himself practically running the last ten feet across the River. In those steps, he did not falter or slip. He felt one with the world around him.

Once he had reached the other side, Psyre turned and waited for Cadfael to join him. He also stayed alert, all too aware of the innumerable dangers that lay all around him. He was filled with awe, excitement, and fear. This was his first time leading such an expedition, and he couldn't wait to get started.

[Enter]

After Psyre was half-way across the river, Cafael stepped into the icy water.  He quickly began to lose feeling in his feet, and the water clung to his armor, chilling his skin.  He had been born and raised in much warmer climes, and was ill prepared for this pervasive chill.  He soon missed the fire, and wished he had had the foresight to properly equip himself for the cold in the town before he had set out.

But even so, he was excited, exhilarated with the knowledge that he was on his way.  The fire that burned it him was enough to keep him moving forward, despite his slips into the cold water, falling on the slick stones that Psyre had navigated with such ease.  His physical training had been lacking, compared to his training in oration, tactics, and history.

Even so, Cadfael focused on moving forward.  He pushed the cold from his mind, and took the path step by step.  While his limbs grew less responsive as he crossed, he refused to give in to the cold, pushing himself forward, driving himself to reach the far bank.

After what seemed like hours, Cadfael reached the far side, shivering and gasping.  When he had, he considered briefly asking Psyre for a quick chance to dry his gear.  However, he could not yield to the cold in such a manner.  His oath would not allow it.  How could the Prince of Battle yield to the temperature?

Standing erect, Cadfael faced Psyre.  "I am ready.  I must see first-hand this land that will test me.  And I will prove myself, to whoever and whatever I must."

As he spoke, Cadfael made an effort to calm his breathing and still his body, willing his body to match his spirit's resolve.

Psyre watched Cadfael struggle with the River, its cold waters clearly affecting him. Time and time again, he watched Cadfael slip. He almost ran to help him, but then thought better of it. It's a good way for him to know what he's getting himself in to, he thought, and besides, we can always just wait here with a fire.

"I am ready." Psyre had to stifle a laugh. "No, you're definitely not. You'd freeze to death long before I got to show you the Runes. We'll need to build a fire here and wait here for a bit. Not until dark, we don't have enough time for that, but long enough that you're not going to kill yourself because of the cold. Seriously, how could you want to try to press on while you're like that?" As he spoke, Psyre started gathering up sticks for a fire. There weren't many that were entirely dry, but he found a few that he knew he could use to get the others lit. None of the pieces of the wood were particularly large, but he didn't want to spend long in the same spot. He didn't want his friend -mentally challenged though he seemed to be- to freeze to death, but he also wanted to explore. And not get eaten by wolves. That was also important.

Once Psyre had lit the fire and it was going strong, he invited Cadfael to sit by it. "I have a pet project I want to check out quickly, but you should stay by the fire until you warm up and your gear dries out. The fire should keep the wolves away, but if you need me, just shout. Don't leave until you're dry though; this cold can't be beaten by willpower." Psyre set off in the direction of the strange rune he had seen before and was trying to learn, one that looked something like a very intricate knot. He had seen it on a scroll, but he knew it would be here somewhere. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew. As he walked, focusing on what he remembered of the Rune, he could almost feel himself being pulled by some strange force, urging him away from the River, deeper into the woods.

Psyre let the force lead him, but tried to stay within earshot. Every now and then, he would see another Rune, some on rocks, some on trees, but most notably, he saw a single tree covered in Runes. The tree looked like it was covered in black tattoos, so covered that they seemed to blend together into a single, impossibly intricate tale. He was curious, more so than ever before, but the force seemed to want him to go deeper. He was already at least a hundred feet away from the spot at which he had left Cadfael, so he didn't dare go more than fifty feet further, but he pressed on. If he hadn't found the Rune by then, he'd start heading back to the fire. And probably stop by the intriguing tree on the way back.

“Seriously, how could you want to press on like that?”

“Well, it’s not like we have all day,” Cadfael grumbled quietly. Even so, he helped Psyre gather the firewood and start the fire. Once it was started, he’d removed his soaked leather armor and put it close by the fire to dry, along with all his supplies. Thankfully, one of the blankets in his pack had remained reasonably dry despite the trip, though it too was wet in places. Wrapping himself, he waited silently for Psyre to return. His mind began to drift, but he never let it wander far. After all, Psyre had warned him about these “rune wolves”. Were they any bigger than usual wolves? Did they have some kind of runic talent from living so long in these woods? He would have to ask Psyre later. Perhaps learning some more of these creatures and environs would help him work out a strategy for when they needed it.

He thought these things, but he constantly scanned the bushes and trees nearby for any sign of the wolves. While he was comfortable enough with the idea of fighting wolves, he had to be careful. He could not afford to die here, with so much left undone. He would find these runes, and gain their strength. He would stop the pointless wars.

And for that he needed more companions. His own strength, even with the runes, would not stand up to an army, even a small one. For that, he needed to find people capable of fighting, and people capable of using magic. As he thought of this, Cadfael realized that he didn’t even know Psyre’s true talents. He would have to ask. Judging from the quarterstaff, a weapon as well as a tool, he would have to guess a wanderer of some sort. But he didn’t know what runes or skills Psyre had, and that made planning a battle rather difficult.

Resolving to ask Psyre these questions when he returned, Cadfael checked his armor. Surprised to find it already dry, he dressed and donned his armor. Soon, his bedroll and other supplies were once more carefully stowed and packed so that he could reach any of it quickly. Keeping his sling at his side, pushed partially into his belt, Cadfael fed the fire carefully, waiting for Psyre to return.

Now that he was no longer waiting for his equipment to dry, Cadfael was once again impatient to be on his way. He thought briefly of following Psyre, but knew that he was not good enough to follow someone in these unfamiliar woods. Perhaps he should call out? But that could bring the wolves down on him. What was Psyre’s “pet project”, anyway?

Cadfael put the thought from his mind. He would wait until Psyre returned. He doubted Psyre would have gone too far, in any case. Even so, the forest made him slightly uneasy. He had never feared the wilderness or the other areas he had passed through, but he felt like there was something –prodding- him, for lack of a better term. As though something wanted him to venture deeper into the tangle of trees.

After pressing on what was probably a little too far, Psyre turned back to rejoin Cadfael. He hadn't found the rune for which he'd been searching, but that didn't surprise him. The flame runes were pretty deep, at least from his current understanding, so he wasn't surprised that he hadn't found it, but was somewhat disappointed nonetheless. The rune had caught his attention, and he was set on learning it at some point. 

As he once again passed the tree covered in runes, Psyre almost stopped to look at it, but he thought of Cadfael, sitting by a fire in a strange and daunting land, and decided to hurry back. The trek back seemed easier than the one out, but seemed to take longer, as he was moving away from what he knew was waiting for him. The arm rune that he knew was out there. He pressed on anyway, getting closer and closer to their makeshift campsite. 

When it finally came into view, he saw Cadfael already back in his armor, prepared to move out. And, from the way his eyes scanned the forest, probably quite anxious to. Psyre jogged the remainder of the way back, waving jovially at his new friend. When he arrived at the fire, he set about putting it out, speaking as he did so. "Sorry that took me so long, I was looking for a Rune I'm trying to learn. Once the fire's out, we should go on in. My current plan is to take you with me to find that Rune. If you survive, you'll have some experience under your belt and you'll have earned yourself the right to use Runes."

Psyre cleared everything up as quickly as he could, trying to get going as soon as possible. There were Runes to learn, a tree to look at and much more to do. When everything was cleared away and the fire had been put out, Psyre turned to Cadfael. "Ready to fight some wolves?" Psyre was already walking toward the trees with a grin on his face when he asked the question.

Standing and banking the fire as Psyre came back into view, Cadfael squared himself for the journey, reminding himself again that he needed to be attentive.

At Psyre’s question, Cadfael remembered his questions.

“Yes.  Oh, right, I had some questions about that, actually.  Why did you call them rune wolves earlier?  Do they have some kind of runic affinity?  Also, I’ve been trying to work out a strategy.  What are your talents?  I’m not exactly a fighter myself, so I thought I could contribute best like this.  Not that I won’t help with the wolves, but I don’t really have much in terms of skill or strength, yet.  Can you use any magic?  Not like runes, but actual magic?”  Cadfael kept his voice low, but continued the barrage of questions all the same, “Do you know any good magic users or melee fighters?”

While the questions poured forth, he glanced around at the trees, hesitant to break their silence by being any louder than the low whisper he spoke in.  “I’m grateful for your aid, but my strengths lie in strengthening others, though all I can do right now is perform some minor healing.”

Now that they were walking, he took his sling from his belt and sifted through his pellets, selecting a few  (four to be precise) and keeping them in his palm so that he could get off several shots quickly if he needed to.  While he did not begin swinging his sling, he did keep it loaded and in hand, swaying with his steps so that only a moment would be needed to send the stone hurtling towards a wolf, should one appear.

As they continued into the trees, he saw a few scattered runes, though Psyre ignored them.  Cadfael wondered suddenly, what rune was he looking for?  How would he know?  But Cadfael decided not to ask, respecting Psyre’s privacy.  If Psyre had wanted him to know, then he would.

(no idea what both of your stats were at the start of this, so, I'll just pop in wolves according to what they are now, soo, here is some fun.)

The small pack had picked up the strange scent a hundred feet back or so, and knew it to be an intruder. The three smaller wolves, though many would consider them normal sized, were hungry, and the larger two had a lust for blood, making these two targets. 

They had stalked them for a while, the two humans being unaware of their distant presence, and they watched, and followed as the two ventured deep into the forest. One seemed significantly stronger, and bore runes on himself, just as the two larger wolves did, and this only enraged them more. He might be born of the north, but what nature creates, it must one day take back.

Watching the two continue, and the stronger one notice their presence, the pack decided that it was time to strike. 
One of the two large wolves circled around, running quickly to the front of the two adventures, and jumped out from the foliage, snarling, but maintaining a ten foot distance. Meanwhile, the three smaller ones spread out, trying to eliminate a chance of running, and the other rune wolf began to approach from behind, quietly though.

(if 5 is too much, I can pull them off. Dying early is no fun.)

Psyre felt a threat, his senses finely tuned to the life around him, and hefted his quarterstaff into his fighting grip. His hands were comfortable on the now worn positions, roughly 18 inches from either end, but his body was tense. "Cad, I dunno what's going on, but something dangerous is--" Psyre was cut off by the huge wolf leaping from the brush off to the side. He didn't waste a second in moving forward to attack. The last time he had fought a wolf, when it had managed to get moving around him, the fight had become much more difficult. As such, he had no intention to allow this one the opportunity to do the same. He sprinted toward the wolf, covering the distance between them in about 1/3 of a second (only has to go 8 feet, strength of greater than 100, doesn't have chain mail for this topic), his body twisting into his attack before he even reached the wolf. By the time he was 2 feet away, his hips and shoulders were twisted to his left, and his arms followed, snapping the right end of his staff at the wolf's face in a fierce attack (177 if it hits). As his body reached the end of its turn, he used the pent-up energy contained in the tense muscles to move his torso toward the right, the left end of his staff dipping as he did so, and then his arms followed his torso, bringing the left end of the staff toward the bottom of the wolf's jaw in a quick motion (177 if it hits). 

Psyre hoped that the fast and violent display would stun -if not kill- the wolf, as he was quite sure he wouldn't be able to defend himself from it very well at this range. Then, he felt another threat. Whether the Wild tried to warn him or not, he could feel the warning. "Cad, watch out, there are more behind us! It's up to you whether you want to help me finish this one off or try to hold those off, but you need to choose and act quickly. This, by the way, is a Rune Wolf. They're exceptionally dangerous, quite large, and can harness the power of Runes in order to bring death and destruction to their foes. Try to survive."

Cadfael, surprised by the speed at which the wolves had come upon them, took two steps (roughly four and a half feet) towards Psyre and the Rune Wolf ahead of him, releasing the sling stone he had loaded earlier (62 damage if it hits), and another as he stopped (62 damage), before pivoting to face the other wolves. As he slung the stones, he picked others from his pouch so that he would have four in hand at any point, and released another stone (62 damage) at the circling, smaller wolf, nearest him.

While he couldn't match Psyre's strength or speed, the strikes should serve to distract the creatures, at least. Meanwhile, Cadfael's mind was racing. He could see four of the creatures; one rune wolf and three smaller wolves. Psyre's strikes and the stones would likely injure the rune wolf, but there were still three circling wolves. He doubted he'd like fighting them in melee. It would be better to take them out before they could close the ground. If only he had some caltrops! Or maybe a spear. Even a quarter-staff like Psyre's would be better once they closed in.

But he didn't have one. And so he kept his sling whirling at his side, another stone slipped into the swinging pouch, eyes sweeping, calm despite his inexperience. After all, these were still only wolves. Men were far more deadly, and they were the prey he had trained to hunt, not these beasts, however unaware they had taken him. For now, he would aim for joints and noses, and if one closed, he would do what he could.

((OOC: This is gonna be a bit weird, but at The First Seer's request, I'm going to be running the wolves for this too. I'll still make sure we don't die, but we'll probably come close... I will do the wolves and Psyre as separate posts to avoid additional confusion. And I'll try to avoid using too much metagame knowledge. Anyway. Here we go.))

The wolf growled in surprise at the ferocity and speed of the attack, and then yelped in pain as the first end of the quarterstaff slammed into his cheek (167 damage, 233 hp remaining), but the yelp was cut short as the second end of the staff slammed his jaws together (another 167, 66 hp remaining). With almost no pause, the wolf felt a sharp sting in his side (52 damage from the sling stone) and let out a yip of pain. He could feel himself losing strength, but he resolved to take one of the intruders down with him. Or, at the very least, go down trying. His eyes locked onto Psyre's face, his gaze emanating hatred, bloodlust, and a cold intellect. Then, the air between the two shimmered and a blade of wind was racing toward Psyre (100 damage if it hits (which, btw, it does)). No sooner had the wolf activated its rune than another stone flew through the air and cracked his skull. As his world went black, the only joy he had was the droplets of blood that fell around him, spilled from the one that tried to use the power of nature.

The smaller wolves were moving back and forth, looking for an opening on which they could capitalize, a fatal mistake that could let them kill these intruders. They had no need to move before that. And yet, as one of them was struck by a sling stone (57 damage, 203 health remaining), the three charged. The injured one shot toward the one who had hurt it, but the other two launched themselves at the one who had dared to put the runes on himself, sailing through the air with their claws and fangs all too ready to dive into his skin. (All three are attacking with the pounce, which will do 80 damage if it hits. They charge at 50 ft/s, so they'll cover the ground in well under a second.)

As the chaos unfolded in front of him, the other rune wolf slowly stepped out of the trees. He stood a good 40 feet away from Cadfael (~45 from Psyre), and stayed low to the ground, ready to charge at either with a moment's notice. The intruders had come far enough. And they had killed his brother. The disdain the wolf normally held for humans was, for these two at least, transformed into a savage hatred. He would kill them, or he would die trying. And that was all there was to it.

((Also, sorry this took me so long. I finished this reply and then accidentally deleted it and ugh.))

As the first wolf died, Psyre felt a surge of hope. They had started strong. Now all they had to do was keep it up. Psyre's surge of joy and hope was cut short by the feeling of his face being cut open by the blade of air (100 damage, 100 health remaining). As his blood began to drip in the snow, he felt the danger from the other wolves, and wheeled so that he was entirely facing them. The two leaped at him, and he knew that if they connected, that would be it for him. He waited until they were almost upon him, mere feet away, and then stepped his right foot behind himself and to his left, turning as he went, bringing his staff to bear against the wolf on his left. The staff snapped out toward it, trying to both hit it and redirect some of its force away from Psyre and deflect the lethal charge (177 if it hits). Even as he did this, Psyre activated both of his Servant Wind runes, and a powerful gust of wind swept through, directed to do the exact same thing the blow with the staff had been aiming to do: make it so Psyre avoided at least the wolf on his right by pushing the other one in its way, or, preferably, avoid both of them by having them go far enough off course that neither could hit him. 

Psyre knew that it was a last ditch effort, and had they been on the ground, he never would have tried his... shenanigans... with the runes, as they were probably far too strong to be affected by a small gust of wind. In the air, however, they didn't have anything off of which to push in order to fight against the gust. And, if nothing else, Psyre would make Cadfael's fight against the remaining wolves easier. Maybe. Hopefully. 

He had remained cool, acted in what he thought was probably the best way to, and now, all that remained was to see if he would survive. The wolves were a formidable threat, yes, but surely he could beat them. No, he would beat them. Maybe he would die in the process or immediately after, but he had resolved to defeat them. His blood was not the only blood in the snow. And he intended to spill a lot more before the day was out.

((OOC description of why I think the doubled up servant wind should work to knock them off-course: gray wolves (off of which these seem based) are about the size of a large dog (matches up decently with the description) and weigh, on average, about 110 pounds. Two instances of servant wind would allow me to freely manipulate 30 pounds of objects. If someone can flip a 30 pound weight around and toss it, that person can probably at least push a 110 pound weight and have it move, especially if there is minimal friction. That's the amount of force it would take to push over a small person who isn't resisting. Seems feasible to me. That combined with the quarterstaff should be able to make it so at least one of them cant hit him. Hopefully. Well, I mean, I guess it could be my call, but still. Whatever.))

Cadfael took in the wolves' charge and the larger wolf stepping out of the trees. The two charging Psyre could well be problematic, especially considering the blade of air that had already sliced him. But Cadfael didn't have time to worry about that at the moment. He had his own wolf, and no weapon other than his sling. As the wolf began to move, he whirled his sling, taking careful aim and waiting for the right moment. He'd only have one shot for what he intended. As the wolf closed, he focused on its right foreleg, and let the stone fly at what he thought would be the wolf's final step before leaping (62 damage). Hopefully, the strike would cause the beast to stagger in it's leap and cause it to flounder rather than pounce fully.

As he loosed, he threw the handful of pebbles into the creature's face, more to disorient than injure, and timed a left hook (31 damage, unless the spray of stones did some damage) following its leap, timed to hit its head as it came into reach. The hook would, hopefully, turn its momentum to his right, the side of the wolves injured leg. With any luck, the combination of the two would force its attack wide. Glancing at Psyre, Cadfael took stock of the wolves he was fighting as well as his injuries. If it was possible, he should help him. He could at least heal some of the damage the man had taken. But first he needed to finish this wolf or disengage.

The wolves charging the rune-bearing man were buffeted by a wind far stronger than they had anticipated, and the blow to the one in conjunction with that sent the one on the right into the path of the other, which slipped around him so as to not hurt him, landing a three feet to the man's right. The one on the right, however, cried out in pain as the quarterstaff slammed into him and broke a rib (172 damage, 88 health remaining). As he began to fly wide, he swept his right claw at the man. His jaws were too far away to be able to hit the man, but his foreleg was fast, and it raced toward the man's chest (10 damage if it hits). This one landed about a foot in front of the man and two feet to his right. He looked to the other wolf and she looked at him and then, in unison, they began to circle the man in opposite directions, the male to his right (Psyre's left, moving directly in front of him) and the female moved to position herself opposite the male, flanking the man who had dared to use runes against them. He would pay for that. The two jumped at the man, both their maws open, seeking his tender flesh to rip it off (60 damage each if they hit). They knew how to hunt, and they knew when prey was injured. This one was hurt and running out of options.

The wolf charging the other, weaker man felt a stone hit his leg (57 damage, 203 hp remaining) and stumbled a bit, but quickly regained his balance. This measly human wouldn't beat him with tiny rocks. He ran on and leaped at the man, flying through the air towards him, when suddenly huge black circles crosse his vision and something his face (we'll say that a poorly thrown sling stone will do base damage 0 with a .5 scaling in strength and a .5 in dex, so it'd do 27 - 5 from armor = 22 damage, 181 hp left). With almost no time after that, another object slammed into his head (26 damage, 155 hp remaining). He was confused and practically reeling from the sudden onslaught, but he contorted his body, throwing his legs to his left in order to correct and still latch on to the man with his bite (60 damage if it hits (at this point, there's not really a way for it to not, but whatever) - 20 from armor, so actual damage would be 40). Disoriented and off-balance, he was unable to do anything other than that, fully committed to this single attack.

The rune wolf watched from his safe distance, growling in anger as the one man used the power of runes against them. He would suffer for trying to use that kind of power against them. He sank lower to the ground, his chest brushing the snow on it, and prepared to charge. The others were in his way, but the very second that they moved or died, he would rush and kill the one who thought himself deserving of the power of nature. Nature had given, and this wolf had found the receiver unworthy of the gift, so nature would reclaim.

Psyre got another burst of satisfaction as his staff slammed into the wolf. He didn't know why he enjoyed fighting so much, as he didn't, back in the days of the tribe. So much was different then. So much would probably never be the same. Unless, of course, he could help it. He was pulled back to the present by the claw raking at his chest, biting into his skin, but hampered by the folds of his robes (5 damage taken, 95 hp remaining in topic). The wolves had both landed near him, and he cleared his head. This was no time to think of plans for the future other than the next few seconds. Otherwise, he'd be as dead as the rune wolf behind him. But he didn't have any tricks to use to take one down with him. If he were to die, Cadfael would be left to fight three wolves and a rune wolf on his own. Cadfael was determined, quick thinking, and better equipped than Psyre (stupid chain mail and swords, not being in this topic... I'd almost be able to one shot rune wolves), but he didn't have the strength that Psyre had picked up from his many trials. Surely, Cadfael could hold out for some time, but the wolves would overpower him eventually. If Psyre died, Cadfael would surely follow.

Psyre's eyes tracked the wolf in front of him as it began to move, and his Wild Sense warned him of the one behind. He'd need to act quickly if he wanted to avoid being torn to shreds, as he could sense that both planned to attack him in mere moments. Wasting no time, he swung the left end of his staff at the wolf in front of him, turning as hard as he could, with the intention to keep spinning after he (hopefully) hit that one (177 damage if he does), which would, with any luck, bring the end of his staff directly into the other wolf, the one that had circled behind (177 if it hits). He knew that this was almost a last-ditch effort, as he was already beginning to feel faint from blood loss. He needed to kill these wolves, and quickly, or he would die. 

Cadfael had said something about being able to heal, but when Psyre glanced at him briefly, he looked rather occupied. "Hey, Cad, if you somehow get a chance, could you maybe come over here and heal me up? I'll take all the wolves that are left, but I'm not in great shape right now. If we can regroup, you can heal me and provide some ranged support. If not, we may well be dead." As he spoke, Psyre tried to sidle toward Cadfael, but the effect was almost negligible. He might have made it a foot. Maybe. At best. Sure, the space between them was a meager 9 feet or so, but with wolves attempting to tear out their throats, 9 feet was quite a lot. Psyre had a bad feeling that things would go horribly wrong if he didn't get healed, and he had no clue why. Then, he realized.

He felt the presence of the rune wolf, its hatred and bloodlust seemingly resonating in every tree and animal near Psyre. One of them had almost killed him, and that was when he had the first attack. If this one charged or, worse yet, activated its rune, Psyre knew he had a good chance of dying. "Umm, actually, on second thought, if you don't mind, maybe come over here regardless. If you don't get a good chance, then just come over here and deal with the consequences later. We're in a lot of trouble. And very soon."


Psyre didn't even know if Cadfael would be able to hear him over the snarling and growling of the wolves, but he certainly hoped so. For both of their sakes.

The wolf's jaws tore into Cadfan's left side (40-20=20 damage, 20 remaining), staggering him and pivoting him slightly.  As he turned, gritting his teeth against the pain, he saw Psyre's condition from the other wolves, and the cut from earlier.  Making a quick kick towards the wolf which had charged him (31 damage if it hits), Cadfael took two quick strides to Psyre's left side, (5 feet) placing one his right hand on the cut across Psyre's face, and used lesser heal (100 health restored, double usage if that's allowed; if not, 50 health, one usage).  Then Cadfael spun, placing himself behind Psyre and looking the other direction, keeping track of the circling wolves.  As he spun, he grabbed a few more stones from his pouch, slipping one into his sling and setting it swinging in a tight circle just above his waist, ready to intercept the first wolf to come forward.

"Psyre, I'm not sure about tactics for fighting wolves, so I'm going to have to be a bit conservative of strikes, I'm afraid." Cadfael said as he tracked the circling wolves, "I'll do what I can to keep you healed, though.  I'm afraid you're a lot more used to this than I am."

(Feel free to bug Sam. He hasn't been on the site in a while, but says that he means to get back to it)

((Aaaaaahhhhhh okay I totally lost track of what was going on in this topic, sorry. I'll read this and give an actual reply at some point. This is basically just reminding myself that I need to get on here and do stuff at a time that isn't 3 in the morning and also preferably when I don't have a tournament right after))