pαпdα Йᴏνê|,сòМ Shadow Snakes hiding in corners and crevices continued to rain deadly bolts of shadowy magic onto the Brazen Guard collective. Though Tycondrius was fairly certain they would not directly target the members of Guild Letalis, they could still be injured in the chaos.
He stopped near Bannok, waving for Sergeant Salt and the others to go on ahead.
"We're going ahead, Brother-Bannok."
"Don't have to tell me twice, guy." Bannok shouted, lifting up his shield to block a dark, smoky glob of mana, "Why you still standin' around? GO!!!"
Tycon was about to turn to leave when he sensed Hunter Felinus dropping down from a nearby building wall. The elf landed near the two of them, longbow in hand.
"Bannok. Tactician," Felinus nodded.
Bannok half-turned his head, scowling, "Not NOW, Fel! I'm kinda... BUSY!! GRAHH!!"
Two more bolts burst against Bannok's enchanted shield, with Felinus casually swaying his body to the side to dodge a third.
"Ahem," The elf cleared his throat... "Brother Bannok..."
Bannok's scowl turned to shock, then twisted back into anger. He growled, deep and low... "No. Absolutely not."
Felinus' face remained impassive, as elves were wont to do, "I have honored my end of the bargain, friend of the elves."
"Flame take you, Fel. You can't," Bannok insisted, near shouting as he reigned in his temper, "Not here... not now."
Felinus shook his head, "According to our prior agreements, I have the discretion on when to terminate my contract. I am exercising that right-- effective now."
Tycon loosened his curved blade from its catch. Had Felinus also decided to betray the Brazen Guard? The danger a hostile Gold-Rank adventurer presented was far worse than an Iron-Rank guild's defection.
"That won't be necessary, Tactician," the elf said nonchalantly. He turned, walking away... back towards the battlefield. "Give the young hero, Athanasius, my regards. He will take my place as Scoutmaster."
...It was then that Tycon understood what the conversation concerned. He removed his helmet to better burn the image of what was about to pass into his memory.
"Master Hunter... I wish to know your reasoning."
Felinus hesitated, turning back... "If there's anything the snakes hate more than humans... it's elves."
Tycon didn't think that was fair, but he kept his peace.
"FEL!!" Bannok shouted, "Where in the seven GODS-DAMNED hells do you think you're going?!"
The elf sighed... "A place I am doubtful I can return from."
Felinus drew back his longbow... and aimed at a pocket of shadow.
Tycon narrowed his gaze...
The elf could see them.
He hadn't chosen to reveal that fact until now... to gather their attention, all at once.
In the span of a few seconds, the Elven Hunter accurately shot, injured, and killed a dozen shadow snakes before sprinting in the direction opposite of the Brazen Guards' retreat.
In the elf's airy, musical language, Felinus delivered his battlecry...
"(Foul creatures of the snake god's brood, hear my name! I am Felinus, champion of the elf god!! My arrows I have slain THOUSANDS of your kin, and you shall die THE SAME!!!)"
Bannok ground his teeth, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath...
"BRAZEN GUARD!!! MOVE YOUR GODS-DAMNED ARSES!!!!"
Taking position at the Weaponmaster's side, Tycon replaced his helmet and fully drew his sword. With an arcing swipe, he cut down an errant, thrown pilum that would have speared one of the withdrawing adventurers.
Bannok turned with an incredulous, furious look, "And why the HELLS are you still here, GUY?!"
Tycon kept his attention on the battlefield... "Felinus' chances of survival are increased if there are two Gold-Rank defensive classes covering the retreat, rather than one."
"You... PAH!!" Bannok spat to the side, before cleaving his enchanted axe into a charging Ghost Warrior, "Do whatever the hells you want! I don't give a single shite!!"
Tycon quietly scoffed. He would do as he pleased, no matter the human's opinion.
...
Though Felinus killed over a score of Shadow Snakes on his own, he was in a battlefield full of dozens more. Besides those, tent-groups of Snake Cultists and a handful of Bronze-Rank Undead Warlocks focused their attention on the single combatant away from the safety of a group.
The elf took an attack from a skeletal spellcaster... a burning, green-flame palm in close range. Though Felinus' blades split the Warlock's spine and ribcage, the injury would prove fatal.
Slowed by the magical burn, the elf took a shadowy bolt to the shoulder... then another upon his upper back. Surrounded by enemies, he defeated two undead cultists before finally succumbing to sword, spear, and axe.
Hunter Felinus died a miserable death, his head severed from his body and dashed bloody upon the stones.
Tycon was glad he stayed behind. The normally unflappable human Weaponmaster was clearly distraught by the elf's death. Tycon grabbed onto the man's wrist... and had to pull on his armor to physically hold him back.
If he hadn't done so, he was fairly certain the human would have recklessly charged into his demise.
Tycon still needed him.
Bannok remained silent as they withdrew with the other members of the Brazen Guard... leaving behind over a tenth of their number as corpses littering the ground. The only sounds the human made were the gnashing of teeth and curses in the old tongue.
As the Brazen Guard descended deeper into the depths of the Halls of the Dead Serpent, the enemies halted their chase. Tycon surmised that the undead summoning ritual had a certain area or range... or perhaps the destruction of the formation mage played some part.
Whatever the reason, the decimated Gold-Rank guild had escaped to relative safety...
The buildings on the lower floor were larger, more separated from each other.
One of the adventurers remarked on the fact. Did they belong to wealthier dwarves? More miserly, perhaps? Such buildings were prime targets for looting, but none of the guilds advocated their exploration.
Tycon was of the same mind. He was not keen on encountering any new traps or enemies within the structures... not without the safety of a forward camp to withdraw to if the situation turned awry.
Without an order or command, the adventurers of the Brazen Guard chose to rest away from the buildings, against a large dungeon wall. Without tent supplies and with limited medical equipment, Priestess Ariadne and her healers set up an impromptu triage area.
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