07-14-2014, 08:09 AM
Barry roared with laughter as he took to his heels to keep up with Cherise. As they rounded the bend, the scale of the fight came into view - two burly men with spears, and some kind of witch woman. Except she was a little prettier than your average witch. And she was ceaselessly spouting curses and blasts of light magic at Barry’s crew.
The two men seemed a little bit too preoccupied with launching light blasts of their own to pay much attention to Barry (although they had engaged Cherise). One of them was a recipient of a swooping attack from their wyvern rider. The woman was engaging Panika. All of these things were apparently what it took to overlook the sight of a titanic, bearded man off to the side, and Barry was not about to let his opportunity be squandered. He lowered his shoulder and picked back up into a run. He lined up his foes and kept up a silent hope that he wouldn’t be noticed. His feet slammed at the ground, and slowly, his pace increased, headed directly toward the nearest spearman. Closer, closer…!
The spearman disengaged from an exchange with Cherise and snapped his head up in Barry’s direction. Too late! WHAM! “Hrrraaaaagh!” Barry roared as he slammed into him, easily powering through and actually lifting the spearman off the ground a bit. His disoriented foe went careening into his superior, knocking them both to the ground and disjointing the battle. He scrambled over to the man he had just blindsided, who had lost grip on his weapon and was furiously trying to pick it up amidst the curses being unleashed upon him by the robed woman for his insolence or prudishness or some such nonsense. Barry stamped his foot down on the shaft of the weapon, anchoring it to the ground and fixing a terrifying glare on the poor fool who was attempting to lift it.
In a bit of showmanship, Barry cracked his knuckles and flashed a devious grin. If this guy wanted a piece of him, he’d have to throw down like a man.
The two men seemed a little bit too preoccupied with launching light blasts of their own to pay much attention to Barry (although they had engaged Cherise). One of them was a recipient of a swooping attack from their wyvern rider. The woman was engaging Panika. All of these things were apparently what it took to overlook the sight of a titanic, bearded man off to the side, and Barry was not about to let his opportunity be squandered. He lowered his shoulder and picked back up into a run. He lined up his foes and kept up a silent hope that he wouldn’t be noticed. His feet slammed at the ground, and slowly, his pace increased, headed directly toward the nearest spearman. Closer, closer…!
The spearman disengaged from an exchange with Cherise and snapped his head up in Barry’s direction. Too late! WHAM! “Hrrraaaaagh!” Barry roared as he slammed into him, easily powering through and actually lifting the spearman off the ground a bit. His disoriented foe went careening into his superior, knocking them both to the ground and disjointing the battle. He scrambled over to the man he had just blindsided, who had lost grip on his weapon and was furiously trying to pick it up amidst the curses being unleashed upon him by the robed woman for his insolence or prudishness or some such nonsense. Barry stamped his foot down on the shaft of the weapon, anchoring it to the ground and fixing a terrifying glare on the poor fool who was attempting to lift it.
In a bit of showmanship, Barry cracked his knuckles and flashed a devious grin. If this guy wanted a piece of him, he’d have to throw down like a man.