The guard, while still wobbly, accepted Airus hand and pulled himself up to his feet. He nodded once to her and withdrew the longsword that he hadn't even had time to unsheath before.

It was obvious the man was scarred, the training he had hadn't prepared him for the creatures that now assaulted his home. He clutched the sword tightly in both hands and moved to stand between his two hereos.

Eriu and Istvan wouldn't be bothered by the creatures, matter-o-factly it seemed that the things purposley avoided them even going as far as to turn around and go back the way they had come. Searching for easier prey.

The Flying Bard too was being avoided, it finally seemed the people there had set in their defenses. But there still were creatures crawling about, the things stayed on the outskirts of normal vision as if awaiting more orders, giving at the very least a few moments for the villagers to catch their breath, as well as a clear path to the Flying Bard.

Seeing that the creatures were now avoiding the group, the priestess gestured towards the beast she had summoned, banishing it with but the smallest movement, and continued onwards. She gave the guard a knowing smile, happy to see him no longer on the ground, cowering, but instead; overcoming his fear, at least enough to stand and draw his weapon.

The woman hadn’t voiced anything to Istvan, however. It wouldn’t have helped the group for her to start arguing, even if the drunk grated on her nerves to no end, although; she did not hold his hand, either. There was no need to encourage a lecherous drunk and as it was no longer necessary to actively avoid the creatures, if the things were avoiding them, they could go, unhindered, to the bard.

“They’re not following us,” Eriu remarked after a few moments, although she had banished the fiend; she had still taken some time to make sure it wasn’t just a clever ruse.

Determined to quicken the pace, she picked up speed, it wasn’t a full blown sprint, but the guard would perhaps instinctively pick up his own pace; to ensure he kept formation, and Istvan would find the distance between the others decreased. With any luck, the trip would be a short one, and they’d be in the Bard; coming up with a plan or figuring out why this city was being attacked. Her higher concern, was, however; to heal those who had obviously been injured in some way, by this attack.

It wasn't long at all before he realized that the things weren't attacking him. He slowed down, tilting his head. He wasn't going to wait around for the prude, though. As he walked, he began to remember various things about the town that would probably be useful later on. Things he'd forget when he was sober.

Istvan sighed softly, nearing the Bard. Well, now would not be a good time for a drink, but he was itching for one. It didn't seem to matter what the prude thought of him at this point. He'd take it upon herself to make sure that the prude was safe. If there was one thing that he learned from a lifetime of wandering, it was that there was usually safety in numbers..and you only have to be faster than your companion.

He couldn't wait to get to the Bard, though. Not just because he wanted a drink (that could wait). He wanted to help plan some sort of attack, and maybe determine what the cause for all of this mayhem was. Slowly, guilt crept into his mind. Guilt that he would immediately push away.

And a ruse it was.

The path had been cleared simple because he willed it so. The villagers, even with their valiant bard, Nearby, shouldn't have been able to kill one let alone THREE of his warriors!

A soft click would be the only warning an attack had been made, a dart no longer then the size of finger but carrying with it a posion that could knock a troll into a deep slumber whizzed through the air.

It's target, the soft and subtle side of Erius neck. If the women was hit, a likely occurrence, she would instantly feel the vile posion setting to work on her, threatening to knock her out.

Still no other attacks would come, if she were to look in the direction the bolt was fired from she would see only a wall of darkness half way between two buildings nearly sixty feet away. Not normal darkness but the absolute blackness that only magic could produce.

Istvan, Eriu and the guard were very much under attack even if they didn't yet realize it.

“How much--”

The woman seemed to jerk in mid-step, collapsing to her knees; her hand instinctively went to her neck, ripping the dart out of place, and throwing it to the ground.

As a healer, she could feel the toxic substance at work; however, even if she could feel the poison going through her system, that didn’t mean she could do anything except fight its effects, she could cleanse disease and magic, but poison; that wasn’t in her specialization.

Eriu struggled to a sitting position, the ground wasn’t particularly comfortable, but she managed; a glowing hand rubbed the spot of her neck that had been hit, the wound healed, but the poison had already begun its work.

It would still remain to be seen if the woman would be rendered unconscious, however; she wasn’t a normal person and the poison, itself, probably wasn’t meant for her, specifically. Rather, her people rarely stepped outside of the Isles, which meant the poison had to have been either a strong cocktail that could down a horse, or it was meant for humans and maybe, her distant cousins. In other words, the poison was being defended on two fronts, one was her, mentally, and magically trying to combat the effects; the other was that her people’s different physiology could possibly help. At any rate, her metabolism was much faster than a normal human‘s, so there was some help there. Even if she went out; it would not be for long.

Despite her many strengths over the poison and the fact that she had already downed three of the abominations that had attacked, she was still out of the fight, at least for now; there was no way she could stay conscious, combat the poison’s effects, heal herself, and then still help the others. She was effectively cut off from contributing to any group synergy, so the attackers had won that battle.

The others would have to hold off until she managed to get back on her feet, for however long that took, that is, if she managed to fight the poison; hopefully, she could do so, but there was no guarantees, either.

Throughout all this, Eriu would seem calm, centered, and focused. This was part of her craft and part of her personality, she wasn’t one to let fear override her senses; that would have been the death of her and those she wanted to protect. Whatever the case, her limbs already felt heavy, her eyes wanted to close, but she wouldn’t allow it. She’d fight it for as long and as hard as possible, before succumbing to anything even remotely resembling weakness; that was just who she was.

Istvan turned to see Eriu falling. He gave nothing more than a sigh and a shrug as he walked back, glancing around him cautiously. It soon became evident that it wasn't the things that he could see that he had to watch out for. It was the things that he couldn't see. With jingling bells ringing with each step, he walked back to Eriu. At the same time, he hid his small horns and pointed ears from view with a headscarf.

He reached into his pouch and removed a small vial from it. "Take this. It's not much and it tastes awful, but it helps. It purifies the bloods." Istvan held the small vial of green liquid towards Eriu. "I..ehh..uses it whens I wants to get sober." Istvan appeared serious, despite his clouded gaze and his blood shot eyes.

He knelt down near Eriu, then instructed the guard to watch. "If something happens to me, run and find help." He said quietly.

A soft clapping permeated the darkness, “Bravo.” A soft and elegant voice congratulated the three warriors. Polished black boots, a fine silver embroidered, black cloak and leather gloves adorned the small figure that casually exited the darkness in the alley. The elegantly cloaked figure stood a mere five feet in height and obviously thin despite his features being hidden.

“You should be asleep.” He spoke to Eriu, obviously disappointed that the poison wasn’t doing its job very well.

The man stopped a good fifteen paces from the three, red glowing eyes penetrating the cowl of his cloak, as he was obviously studying the three. “You removed my warriors from battle.” He stated matter-o-factly as his eyes moved to the guard and then finally to rest on Istvan.

“What say you? Leave this place…turn your back. Why die for strangers when you can be rewarded?” As if to accentuate his point his right hand extended forward where several large jewels glittered in his open palm.

The guard looked desperately from the cloaked figure to Istvan and then to Eriu, he was unsure what to do. He tightly clutched his sword in both hands to his chest but didn’t seem like he was ready for battle beyond that, obviously he depended on one of the two for leadership, Eriu more then likely but in her current condition he turned to the other man standing next to him… the drunken man.

“What …what do we do?” He squeaked. His voice was barely above a whisper, obviously it took every once of courage he had to speak. He took a step to the side, ready to run and make a break for the inn.

“ … N-nfn …,” a weak sound came from the woman, it was somewhere between a grunt and a sigh, or maybe a gasp. It was hard to place, really. “--Gotta … be kidding.”

The woman didn’t have time to puzzle over the drunk’s convenient, if not mysterious, liquid, and downed it readily. At most, it could have been another poison to compound atop the one she was already fighting, and at best it’d have been actual help. Eriu’s chances weren’t all that bad when one looked at the circumstances involved.

“See here,” she whispered towards this new entity, her voice was low, but audible enough that nobody would have to strain to hear her. “I do not tire.”

Eriu did not attempt to stand, she was still too weak, and too occupied with fighting the foreign substance that was invading and attacking her body. She did, however, increase her grip on her staff, and offer a glare towards the new comer’s suggestion.

“The revered do not turn their backs, Turus,” the woman spat sharply.

The luminescent glow of Eriu’s skin would dim just slightly, the pools of amber fire that were her eyes flared to life, her brow furrowed, and the shadows of the night seemed to overtake her form. Still, she lay there, just as weak, and poisoned as before. But a change was occurring. What this meant for any of the gathered parties, though; that remained to be seen.

The mans shoulders visibly slumped under his cloak, as if he was visibly showing dissapointment in the groups willingness to stay. The stupid ones were always the ones trying to be noble he told himself.

The Cloaked Figure, in one motion, snapped his left arm forward, digits covered in a leather glove extended outwad, making a grasping motion towards the group. A single green line shot forth from each outstretched finger on his left hand. The lines of energy twisted, dove, climbed and varried in speed as they rushed towads the group.

Three rays headed for Eriu, one for the guard and the last for the loud mouth male. The rays were not deadly, at least not singly, they were possessed of great necromancy magic. There slightest touch could wither a persons army or leg to a dry husk, eat away minor magical protection and cause great pain should the victim be struck in the head or heart.

The mans shoulders visibly slumped under his cloak, as if he was visibly showing dissapointment in the groups willingness to stay. The stupid ones were always the ones trying to be noble he told himself.

The Cloaked Figure, in one motion, snapped his left arm forward, digits covered in a leather glove extended outwad, making a grasping motion towards the group. A single green line shot forth from each outstretched finger on his left hand. The lines of energy twisted, dove, climbed and varried in speed as they rushed towads the group.

Three rays headed for Eriu, one for the guard and the last for the loud mouth male. The rays were not deadly, at least not singly, they were possessed of great necromancy magic. There slightest touch could wither a persons army or leg to a dry husk, eat away minor magical protection and cause great pain should the victim be struck in the head or heart.

As the green rays of necrotic energy narrowed in on Eriu, her body would blur, distort, twist, and reshape; there was an ever darkening aura around her: green, purple, and black energies overtook her form and she immediately threw up a familiar bubble-like shield around her body, this shield would burst the second it was touched by the green rays, but would give her enough time to scramble to her feet and away from the attack.

Still poisoned, she was swaying on her feet, but on her feet she was; this was perhaps an accomplishment, something to be noted, her tenacity and drive were not to be underestimated; in fact, they were to be admired.

“If it is the dark arts you’re going to play with,,” she spoke through a strained smile and her words vibrated just as they did earlier, when she had cast her first spell, but this time it was a bit more hollow, like she were speaking from some great distance away. “Then maybe the battleground should be leveled, you think?”

Truthfully, she had changed too soon, she had been hoping for another moment or two to ready the switch, but her hand had been forced quite earlier than expected; it was either change or be killed, or horribly maimed. She chose to switch. Regardless, the woman once again swept a hand at her side, calling forth the shadowy abomination from earlier, and that would be followed by her giving up her physical form; she’d disperse into a cloud of dark energy, her vitality quickly becoming restored, and her health renewed.

This would not be a quick process, sadly; this form was very tricky, and while she was regaining strength every three second tick, she had obviously used her trump card to do so, she would not be able to repeat this any time soon, and nor could she even cast another spell while in this form. This, this was where her abomination came in, the beast would begin to run forwards, the second it came into existence near the woman, and make a B-Line straight for the bold-speaking man.

The abomination was not a powerful one, it paled in comparison to Eriu’s own abilities, but with every attack, regardless of strength, it would grow in size, even attacks that missed would see it some growth; the vice versa, however, was true, as well. Each time the abomination was hit, struck, or even as time passed, it would decrease in size, and become smaller; ultimately, it would fade from existence after a period of about one or two minutes.

Luckily, not many would recognize the shadowy creature for what it was, and so with red maw gaping, teeth gnashing; it would make to gnaw, and chew its way through its current target. All the while, it'd be buying Eriu the time she would need to fix herself and once again be a fighting force.