Vaguely, Gaucho began to wonder if all the creatures in the graveyard were comprised of dieing flesh. As his antlers raked across Deimos, he could smell the acrid scent of death - although he failed to see the un-dead hand gripping the Reaper's leg and holding him there. Even as he rushed towards Arlo, the pale stallion offered no resistance, and crumbled at his touch. It made little sense, but it would seem the warrior would be forced to figure it out - for as his gaze turned upwards, he saw the thick blanket of fog appear to lower, as if creating a ceiling above their little graveyard arena. Any good pilot would know, that to fly through such a haze without proper instruments could be suicide, and while the blinking light on his nose was good for others to see him, it was not an effective tool for navigation.
Unbeknownst to Gaucho, the fog was to be the least of his worries. Indeed, were he to know what was coming for him in the darkness, he might well have taken his chances in the sky.
A 'crawler' as they have come to be called, was moving with a horrid slowness, towards with jingling form of Gaucho. The creature had no throat, so while its mouth moved with obvious attempts to screaming at him, no sound emerged. It did emit a faint clacking sound, as its teeth gnashed together, but Gaucho failed to hear this over the sound of the bells jingling on his harness. Instead, the warrior strained to find his horned adversary in the darkness. As the light on his nose pulsed and faded away, his eyes spied faint and fake images of red capes and blood soaked horns flitting in the darkness all around him. The warrior screamed with frustration, calling forth the silvery-stag that had previously charged at Arlo. With soundless strides, the creature bolted past Gaucho towards were the brute remembered Deimos to be. As the creature went, it emitted a faint light from it's ethereal body, illuminating the area with a subtle, silvery glow. As it neared Deimos, attempting to charge directly at him, Gaucho was filled with a sudden horror, as the light of his magic fell upon the grasses before Deimos.
The grass was dead. But even more horrifying, the Reaper was not moving.
There were only a few times in his life as a warrior, that Gaucho could recall an adversary not issuing an attack: and that was when the battle had clearly been won. Gaucho had maimed his opponent surely, but they were both still standing, they were both still fine, they were both still -
In his antlers Mara let out a hiss of panic. Perhaps the snake could smell the oncoming scent of death, or perhaps she simply made the connection of what was happening. Either way, she mentally rattled Gaucho's mind to evade. His large hooves back peddled quickly, sending his hind-end directly into the crawler. His hoof stepped upon the thing's skull, cracking it with a dry and unappetizing sound, yet still its arms flailed to grasp him. Gaucho tried to spin, to evade the ghostly after-image of the silent and still Reaper, but his wounded shoulder cried out in pain, and slowed his movements. His hind-legs scrambled to try and rid himself of the crawler, which had now grabbed onto his tail and back right leg, holding onto him like a decapitated koala bear. Even as this horror was quickly unfolding, a path of death was unhurriedly and confidently moving towards him.
With the added weight of the crawler on his leg, and the pain of his shoulder, he could not outrun Deimos' magic - even if he could have, in this dim setting, it wasn't the type of thing he could see coming. Deimos magic struck his right hind-leg and hind-quarter, which caused the crawler to take some of the force, falling like a deadweight from his leg. As for Gaucho....it was the strangest feeling. His leg felt cold, but also tired...there was pain as well and...a sort of restfulness? Part of him thought it felt as though his thigh had been pummeled insistently for hours, while another part felt as thought he had done the work himself, and that he was merely fatigued. Gaucho, who had never died before, or even vaguely experienced death, could find no way to make sense of the feeling in his limb. It still worked, but in an almost lazy way - causing the rest of his body to strain to move himself forward.
Fearing for what might come next, Mara knocked off the glowing bulb on Gaucho's nose that still pulsed a dull red. If death was coming for them, they didn't need to make it easy.
[WC: 798.
Attack: 2/3
Gaucho, unable to find Deimos as he has been stayed by a zombie, sends his silvery-magic-stag towards Deimos to attack, but also to shed some light in the darkness. He see's Deimos merely standing there, but also sees that the grass around him has died. Trying to evade, Gaucho retreats, stepping onto a zombie who grabs hold of his right leg. Spinning slowly and unable to escape, Deimos' magic hits his right hind leg, causing the zombie to fall away, but also effecting that limb. ]
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The blast of war blows in our ears [Graveyard Champ]
