[Trigger word, of course. It cuts through the fog of panic as he turns his attention down to the trap under his feet and directs what magical energy he possesses down towards it.]
Finis!
[A pulse of magic ripples over the floor. The plate clicks lightly underfoot, and the door separating them both slowly grinds upwards. Tav steps back carefully and exhales a sharp breath, retreating back into the corridor for the moment.]
[The gate starts to lift, and Pom finally breathes a sigh of relief, falling onto his rear as he takes a few seconds to collect himself.]
Hells. Thought my heart was gonna hammer its way out of my chest.
[He pulls himself together by the time the gates have fully lifted, disappearing into fissures in the walls. Getting to his feet, he shakes his hand instinctively, as though to get the blood off; instead, it just goes everywhere. He looks down at it, seeming to realize that was not his best idea.]
[The adrenaline high will wear off. He's out of immediate danger now and will be much more careful from here on out.
Tav crouches in front of Pom and takes his hand, a soft blue light gathering around his own as he heals the bloody cut with a quick dash of healing magic. He shakes his head as he does, his brow furrowed, clearly annoyed at himself.]
[Pom hisses, the cool magic soothing his hand, the skin stitching itself together until it's like new. He flexes his fingers, watching the hole in his glove; he'll have to sew that up when given the chance, but he didn't have time to pull it off, not when most of it is tucked under his bracers.
His eyes flick to Tav's face, entirely hidden by his shades; his voice dips quieter.]
Heh. A while. You do a decent job covering it up but you can't fool me that easily.
[He pushes himself to his feet and offers a hand down for Pom to take. They can discuss how the guy just saved his skin and what he owes him for that later - right now they have more pressing things to attend to, like the brigands trying to run off with their friend.]
Never been a problem so I didn't mention it. Most folks I deal with in my line of work can barely write their own names.
[They have shit to do, after all. Tav huffs out a sharp breath to steady himself and then presses onwards, moving carefully through the trapped room and into the hallway on the other side. He's clearly on high alert now, and it's only a minute or so more of walking before he pauses mid-step and reaches a hand out towards Pom, silently beckoning him closer.
His head cocks, gaze shifting as he listens to something in the distance.]
Can hear voices up ahead.
[From the quality of them, it sounds like the tunnel opens into another cavern up ahead. He looks up at Pom, one eyebrow slightly quirked at him.]
You gonna be able to keep your head on straight? You're a liability if you're losing your mind.
[Pom inches closer at Tav's command, listening. He, too, hears voices: two low, one high. There's also the sounds of scuffling -- likely Purl, still struggling against them like the fierce thing she is.
The very thought sets Pom on edge. He's still wound tight from their encounter with the trap; the thought of Purl being in reach leaves his muscles tensed, ready to pounce.]
I'll do whatever it takes to get her back, Tav. And once she's safe...
[His eyes are hidden by the shades, but the venom and hostility rising off him are practically palpable. Whomever is up there is going to be lucky to escape with their lives if Pom has anything to say about it.]
Once she's safe, you're free to lose your entire fuckin' sense of anything and slaughter the lot of them, but not before, you got it?
[Tav can feel it - the danger, the concern that Pom should really stay back here while Tav goes up ahead to scout the situation visually, but the man would never agree to lingering while he can hear Purl struggling.
The half-drow shakes his head, gripping one hand around his companion's arm.]
Listen. This could be tricky enough without me having to keep an eye on you as well. I need to know I can rely on you here. Can I rely on you, Pom?
[It takes Pom a second, then two to even find his voice; he swallows it down, his temper so hot he can feel it burning him from the inside out. He can't leave Purl in trouble -- they promised to watch one another's backs, and he already failed her by letting her get nabbed in the first place. There's no one else but them in the world, no one but the two of them to keep each other safe—
And then there's Tav, the half-drow's grip on his arm drawing him back. Tav, who has helped them when he had no reason to, Tav who knows more about the two of them than he lets on, but gives them the privacy they need. Tav, who is out here with Pom even now, despite how little they truly know about one another, how much they've all been hiding behind the masks they wear.
Then again, Tav could grab Purl for himself and run; this could all be a trap, laid to separate the duo. Maybe Tav saw the posters back there and put two and two together, and is just waiting for an opportunity. They've been friendly until now, but how long will it last?
There's only one other person Pom ever put his trust in besides Purl, and he nearly died for it; he's going to have to trust again, to place his faith in someone aside from his feline companion, and Pom's not entirely sure how... but he has to, and it terrifies him, anxiety chilling his temper. The metal on Pom's boots scrapes the ground as his legs tense, then finally relax, if only a hair.]
[He still isn't sure if he can trust Pom to keep his head once they see Purl but he's going to have to, because there's no way he's going to stay back here unless Tav knocks him out and he really doesn't want to try resorting to that. Somehow, he has a feeling that it wouldn't go well for either of them.
Truth be told, the wily half-drow does know more than he's letting on. He knows, but he also recognises that Pom hasn't done anything wrong to him, he's been a good travelling companion, and Tav's past isn't exactly squeaky-clean either. Until it becomes a problem, as far as he's concerned it's no problem.
Pom can tell him as and when he needs to know.]
C'mon. Slow and quiet.
[Tav moves forward first, knowing Pom can see over his head, and works his way down towards the end of the tunnel. As they go the voices at the other end get louder, clearer, and Tav is able to pick out half a dozen different ones. They're outnumbered - this is going to have to be tactical.]
[Pom follows Tav carefully, quietly, closing his eyes behind his glasses once they pause so he can listen: he picks out different timbres, different voices, at least five or six. There's a snarl -- Purl. Another voice, a little smoother than the rest: that one talks like they know what they're doing. Catering to bad habits, Pom gnaws on his lip, biting hard enough to draw blood; still trying to focus, Pom puts his thumbnail to his lips instead, chewing it so he can see something other than red.
At the end of the tunnel, the group argues about where to go and what to do next. Two talk about swinging through the marsh to avoid suspicion, letting the wetlands hide their tracks; another wants to skin Purl right there, thinking that bringing here anywhere alive is too much of a risk, and that they might as well get a good pelt out of their troubles. He saw what happened at the camp -- he's one of the ones who got away, Pom surmises -- and knows no tabaxi money is worth their lives.
The smoother voice speaks: they're a mage of some sort, judging from what little Pom can make out of their outfit once he opens his eyes, fixating on the group ahead. They insist she's got more value than a mere tabaxi, something the rest can't see, and should be taken alive because of that.
Gods, does Pom hate hearing them talk about her like she's little more than a piece of meat or a fur to be traded. His gaze settles on Tav, the orange of his eyes barely visible above his glasses: even in the dark, they burn like fire.
They have to play to their strengths. They're both handy enough with their weapons but neither of them are going to be able to take enough damage to hold up if the tide of this turns against them. He needs to make sure Pom doesn't lose it, that they can keep Purl from being hurt for long enough to get to her, and preferably make sure not a single one of these bandits makes it out of this cave alive.
Tav crouches, putting his fingertip to the dust on the floor of the cave. He outlines a quick set of tactics - they split up, flank the group from both sides. Tav creates a diversion while Pom heads in to get Purl, and then once they know she's safe...
Well, that much can be left to Pom himself, Tav is quite sure.
The half-drow chews his lip slightly. With the clock ticking, they don't have the time to sit here and debate. He tilts his head towards the cavern ahead.]
[Tav gets no debate at all; Pom accepts the tactics as presented, nodding before he's on the move for his part. Despite the metal on his boots, he slides along one side of tunnel, stalking in the shadows along the earthen wall like a predatory beast. Though he puts on a colorful facade most of the time, his voice as loud as his attire, he can be apparently be silent as the grave when he needs to be. It's not the behavior of someone trying to be quiet when they're unaccustomed to it, but the precise movement of someone trained in such methods.
He stops once he's near the party holding Purl, waiting for Tav to create an opening, his hand poised around him to grab his knife upon the signal.]
[The opening does not take long and is very obvious when it does. With a small gesture of his hand and a whispered word, darkness falls across most of the cavern. The bandits cry out in alarm, scrambling for weapons that they can't find in the inky blackness, and in his careful placement of his spell Tav had left a path around the edge of the area open for Pom to move around and snatch Purl away.
It's not a perfect plan, but neither of them are built for extended close combat and Tav would rather have this be over quickly.
He has a feeling they're going to be sorry they ever touched Purl by the time Pom is done wih them...]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Finis!
[A pulse of magic ripples over the floor. The plate clicks lightly underfoot, and the door separating them both slowly grinds upwards. Tav steps back carefully and exhales a sharp breath, retreating back into the corridor for the moment.]
Fucking hells. Give me your hand.
no subject
Hells. Thought my heart was gonna hammer its way out of my chest.
[He pulls himself together by the time the gates have fully lifted, disappearing into fissures in the walls. Getting to his feet, he shakes his hand instinctively, as though to get the blood off; instead, it just goes everywhere. He looks down at it, seeming to realize that was not his best idea.]
You okay?
no subject
[The adrenaline high will wear off. He's out of immediate danger now and will be much more careful from here on out.
Tav crouches in front of Pom and takes his hand, a soft blue light gathering around his own as he heals the bloody cut with a quick dash of healing magic. He shakes his head as he does, his brow furrowed, clearly annoyed at himself.]
Once we get Purl back, I'm teaching you to read.
no subject
His eyes flick to Tav's face, entirely hidden by his shades; his voice dips quieter.]
How long have you known?
no subject
[He pushes himself to his feet and offers a hand down for Pom to take. They can discuss how the guy just saved his skin and what he owes him for that later - right now they have more pressing things to attend to, like the brigands trying to run off with their friend.]
Never been a problem so I didn't mention it. Most folks I deal with in my line of work can barely write their own names.
no subject
[He takes Tav's hand, dusting himself off; he's clearly a bit sheepish it, grimacing.]
Purl helps me cover it. Does all the reading for me. We—
[The discomfort returns to his face.]
Let's talk after we find her, okay? There're some... things we oughtta tell you.
no subject
[They have shit to do, after all. Tav huffs out a sharp breath to steady himself and then presses onwards, moving carefully through the trapped room and into the hallway on the other side. He's clearly on high alert now, and it's only a minute or so more of walking before he pauses mid-step and reaches a hand out towards Pom, silently beckoning him closer.
His head cocks, gaze shifting as he listens to something in the distance.]
Can hear voices up ahead.
[From the quality of them, it sounds like the tunnel opens into another cavern up ahead. He looks up at Pom, one eyebrow slightly quirked at him.]
You gonna be able to keep your head on straight? You're a liability if you're losing your mind.
no subject
The very thought sets Pom on edge. He's still wound tight from their encounter with the trap; the thought of Purl being in reach leaves his muscles tensed, ready to pounce.]
I'll do whatever it takes to get her back, Tav. And once she's safe...
[His eyes are hidden by the shades, but the venom and hostility rising off him are practically palpable. Whomever is up there is going to be lucky to escape with their lives if Pom has anything to say about it.]
no subject
[Tav can feel it - the danger, the concern that Pom should really stay back here while Tav goes up ahead to scout the situation visually, but the man would never agree to lingering while he can hear Purl struggling.
The half-drow shakes his head, gripping one hand around his companion's arm.]
Listen. This could be tricky enough without me having to keep an eye on you as well. I need to know I can rely on you here. Can I rely on you, Pom?
no subject
And then there's Tav, the half-drow's grip on his arm drawing him back. Tav, who has helped them when he had no reason to, Tav who knows more about the two of them than he lets on, but gives them the privacy they need. Tav, who is out here with Pom even now, despite how little they truly know about one another, how much they've all been hiding behind the masks they wear.
Then again, Tav could grab Purl for himself and run; this could all be a trap, laid to separate the duo. Maybe Tav saw the posters back there and put two and two together, and is just waiting for an opportunity. They've been friendly until now, but how long will it last?
There's only one other person Pom ever put his trust in besides Purl, and he nearly died for it; he's going to have to trust again, to place his faith in someone aside from his feline companion, and Pom's not entirely sure how... but he has to, and it terrifies him, anxiety chilling his temper. The metal on Pom's boots scrapes the ground as his legs tense, then finally relax, if only a hair.]
Yeah. You can.
[He pulls a sharp breath in through his nose.]
I just want her back. Got to have her back.
no subject
[He still isn't sure if he can trust Pom to keep his head once they see Purl but he's going to have to, because there's no way he's going to stay back here unless Tav knocks him out and he really doesn't want to try resorting to that. Somehow, he has a feeling that it wouldn't go well for either of them.
Truth be told, the wily half-drow does know more than he's letting on. He knows, but he also recognises that Pom hasn't done anything wrong to him, he's been a good travelling companion, and Tav's past isn't exactly squeaky-clean either. Until it becomes a problem, as far as he's concerned it's no problem.
Pom can tell him as and when he needs to know.]
C'mon. Slow and quiet.
[Tav moves forward first, knowing Pom can see over his head, and works his way down towards the end of the tunnel. As they go the voices at the other end get louder, clearer, and Tav is able to pick out half a dozen different ones. They're outnumbered - this is going to have to be tactical.]
no subject
At the end of the tunnel, the group argues about where to go and what to do next. Two talk about swinging through the marsh to avoid suspicion, letting the wetlands hide their tracks; another wants to skin Purl right there, thinking that bringing here anywhere alive is too much of a risk, and that they might as well get a good pelt out of their troubles. He saw what happened at the camp -- he's one of the ones who got away, Pom surmises -- and knows no tabaxi money is worth their lives.
The smoother voice speaks: they're a mage of some sort, judging from what little Pom can make out of their outfit once he opens his eyes, fixating on the group ahead. They insist she's got more value than a mere tabaxi, something the rest can't see, and should be taken alive because of that.
Gods, does Pom hate hearing them talk about her like she's little more than a piece of meat or a fur to be traded. His gaze settles on Tav, the orange of his eyes barely visible above his glasses: even in the dark, they burn like fire.
He mouths:]
What's the plan?
no subject
They have to play to their strengths. They're both handy enough with their weapons but neither of them are going to be able to take enough damage to hold up if the tide of this turns against them. He needs to make sure Pom doesn't lose it, that they can keep Purl from being hurt for long enough to get to her, and preferably make sure not a single one of these bandits makes it out of this cave alive.
Tav crouches, putting his fingertip to the dust on the floor of the cave. He outlines a quick set of tactics - they split up, flank the group from both sides. Tav creates a diversion while Pom heads in to get Purl, and then once they know she's safe...
Well, that much can be left to Pom himself, Tav is quite sure.
The half-drow chews his lip slightly. With the clock ticking, they don't have the time to sit here and debate. He tilts his head towards the cavern ahead.]
Ready?
no subject
He stops once he's near the party holding Purl, waiting for Tav to create an opening, his hand poised around him to grab his knife upon the signal.]
no subject
It's not a perfect plan, but neither of them are built for extended close combat and Tav would rather have this be over quickly.
He has a feeling they're going to be sorry they ever touched Purl by the time Pom is done wih them...]