The Summertide, 1489 [Ari; Closed]

First Hit CON. Save: eHiMn2zL1d20+2
Second Hit CON. Save: 1d20+2
CON. Save vs. Icy Doom: 1d20+21d20+2·1d20+2·1d20+2

The wolves came pouring toward her, rushing over one another to get to Orin. The storm enveloped the warlock, the temperature dropping as she rose her shield. Wind blew around her, a force that she wasn't expecting, and as the wolves lunged at all sides of her, the first one came from a place she wasn't expecting- the air.

Launching itself at an angle, the warlock grunted out in pain as the wolf latched down on the back of her shoulder, flipping them both to the ground. Orin when heel over head before landing face into the ground with a sickening thud of her face into frozen earth. Blood poured immediately from her nostrils and an open wound on her forehead as she recoiled, shoving herself up, the Armor of Agathys already melted away, a spike of ice into the wolf that did that to her was her only comfort. The second wolf came in, catching Orin in the side, claws tearing into her leg as she recoiled to once side. Throwing up her shield, the third attack came just a split too late, the Warlock able to defend herself from that attack and throw it back into the howling storm around her.

Spitting blood from her mouth and taking a hazy step to position herself right where she was, Orin gripped her rapier as she focused. Any calm cockiness she had was now gone, replaced by malice and hatred for the wolves around her, and she focused. "Before this fight is over, before this night is through, whatever you have done to me, I will do back to you!" The Hexblade's Curse echoed through the storm as she screamed at the wolves. Her hand guided to the target of her curse as she shot forward toward a spectral wolf as it appeared from the snowstorm. At the same time, her rapier ignited in blue flames as she swung at it on instinct, the blade leading Orin in the dance.

Move Action: Nope.
Bonus Action: Hexblade's Curse.
Action: Blue-Flame Blade for flashy effect.

Attack: UUxjstUb1d20+41d20+4

Snarling in fury against the Winter Lady's rapier the snow dispersed and reformed several feet away. A good portion of the snow had settled permanently to the ground, the mist not as potent and thick as before. The snow and ice didn't realize it had been sent to face against its source of power!

[quick break for an attack of opportunity]

Puppers growled, bending his front down low to the ground, snapping at the snow wolves he had created.

The swarm of snow obeyed, fearfully turning from the winter wolf to turn back towards the ex Knight. Lunging forward they snapped again, some of the forms howling and growling around the edge, letting the ones closer to Orin engage.

48E4m6uq1d20+2, if hit 4 damage
Roll DC 12 Con save against 3 cold damage

Roll for Icy Doom Ability, need a 5 or 6
1d6

---

Puppers, infuriated by the behavior of his own magic - it slowly dawning on him that, his own elevated winter magic also came from his Mistress, just as Orin's was. And her magic would always be superior to his. Particularly - his eyes narrowed upon noticing - that she wielded Her own rapier!

Howling in jealous rage he lept from where he stood, clearing a near 30 feet in one jump, and stalked up over to Orin
Move: 50 feet towards Orin
Action/Bonus: None

roll to recharge breath, need a 5 or 6
1d61d20+2·1d6·1d6

The snow was even lessened now, only a handful of perhaps 3 or so snow wolves remaining. The mist they dove and ran through had significantly lessened to near 3/4th of its original intimidating size. Spurred on though by its master joining them they flung back towards the eladrin, only to by smacked around and diminished even more. But they were magical constructs with one goal, and so they attacked.

vY2|fkqQ1d20+2, if hit 4 damage
DC 12 Con if hit for 3 cold damage

Roll to regain Icy Doom, 5 or 6
1d6

---

Puppers watched with an irate look in his eyes at the clear blue fire twisted over the remaining snow wolves and splattered like oil on the snow near his side.

"You think you're big enough to take me on, without your Mantle, Darling?" His gruff voice was drenched in poisoned humor. "Be careful where you step, would hate for you to split and fall." He inhaled deeply, as if preparing a breath attack. [can roll insight against his bluff, or carry on however you'd like to RP it]

roll to regain breath attack, 5 or 6
1d61d20+2·1d6·1d6

Orin spotted only two- maybe three- more wolves in the air and darkness around her. Her warning had gotten through to the large Winter Wolf behind them, though, and she watched as his head reared back. Instinct told her to Misty Step from the way, though, but she didn't. Instead, holding the rapier out away from her, she would taunt Puppers more, opening herself completely to the breath weapon that would never be. Slowly, she would chuckle, an almost cocky smirk coming from her, despite the taste of blood in her mouth and the warmth from her forehead starting to drip down her nose.

"Ahhh," Orin would click her tongue once more before spitting at his massive paws. "Puppers, I'm disappointed. You huffed and puffed and couldn't get it up. Maybe that's the reason I'm her favorite?" she would ask. In her left, the rapier would be pulsing, wanting to go toward the smaller wolves, the Hexblade's Curse all but causing the blade to fly out of her hands. She would wait until the wolves came back in, though, and then let the blade direct her strike into the wolves with a wide circular motion.

Attack Roll:
1ZTPH_Bp1d20+5

Damage Roll if hit:
1d8+31d20+5·1d8+3

As Orin spun on heel, stepped backward, then shot forward with a small flourish, the blade twisted. As the first two wolves jumped, the Hexblade slashed through- left, then right, and as Orin shot forward, the final wolf met the cold bite of the rapier, with Orin lifting it up and plunging the wolf straight to the ground. She knew better, though, than to leave Lady Susan's rapier in the skull of a beast, much less unattended. The warlock would withdraw the blade, and as she did so, instead of dispersing into snow over the summer ground, the chilled air would breeze across Orin. The spirit of air and darkness would refresh her, and right in front of the Winter Wolf's eyes, the gash across Orin's forehead would freeze over and seal shut as she turned back to Puppers.

(OoC Note: Orin recovers 5 HP from defeating the target of her Hexblade's Curse, bringing her back up to 10 HP.)

Puppers would stop inches before Orin's face, fangs bared and and spit frothing across her hair. Paws on either side, they stood inches apart, like siblings waiting to goad the other into hitting first. Sure, both would get in trouble, but the one that hit first would be in more trouble. Orin would simply stand there, staring the Winter Wolf down. She would wait- wait until he caught his breath, wait until he thought he had the upper hand, and even as her body ached, as much as the common sense granted to her through fragile morality told her to flee and run as much as she could, she would force herself to stand there and wait. Through an inhale, through the head tilt, and right as his head was going to come forward, she would stop.

"A caravan just outside of Minkai, the 10th of Pharast, a Wealday, 4716 A.R." She would wait for Puppers to stop. Orin hoped he would stop.