Author's Note: Well, it IS the worst pain in the entire world.

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The hellhound ate up the distance between them almost instantaneously, and before Phenalope could react, it's enormous front paws thudded heavily onto her chest before she could face it fully, driving her to the ground and forcing the breath from her lungs in one explosive gasp. She slammed one hand up into it's throat as it's jaws darted downwards, seeking the unprotected flesh of her throat. All pretense of style and experience flew from her as she struggled to draw in enough breath to scream, muscles in her arm straining to hold the slavering, snapping fangs at bay. She sunk her dagger deep into it's burning flesh, but the beast only made a horrible, eager, needful sound as it's paws scrabbled at her leathers, bearing down on her even harder.

And then, as soon as the attack had begun, it was over. Phenalope barely saw the large hand shoot over and ball itself into a fist in the hellhound's hide and jerking it upwards. In Daelan's grasp, the beast snarled with a mixture of pain and anger, powerful limbs thrashing as it strained to snap at the barbarian's face. In one fluid motion, he whirled and slammed it into the cavern wall. There was a horrible crunching sound and the hound's snarls rose into watery squeals, suddenly seeking escape. It's legs thrashed in the air as Daelan drew it back again and slammed it forward, this time hard enough to send a spiderweb network of cracks radiating out from it's body. The hellhound's spine snapped with a sound like brittle ice in winter; it shuddered once, violently, and fell still.

Daelan's face appeared above her, bloodied and upsidedown to her eyes. "Are you allright, Phenalope?"

"I frellin' hate wizards." she said in a sulky tone.

Relief crossed his face, and he siezed her hand to pull her to her feet, marking the way she winced and rubbed at her ribs. "Are you quite sure you're allright?"

"Said I was, didn't I?" the rogue grunted. Her fingers fluttered through the tattered remains of the soft, dyed hide that had made up her vest until moments ago. "Bloody summons . . . think they're so frellin' smart an' cunnin', like, don't they?" Abruptly she whirled and aimed a kick at the still form of the hound. "Well who's up for prancin' now, mate?! Where's yer great ruddy teeth now, ye snappin' twat?!?" She drew herself up to her full height and tossed her head, smoothing the dust from her hips with a gesture of exaggerated calm. She finally cast an eye towards Daelan, standing patiently nearby. "And how're yeh then? All right, Daelan?"

Under her gaze, Daelan straightened proudly, unmindful of his wounds. "I am quite fine, Phenalope. Your worry is appreciated, but not needed."

"Oh, yeah?" Stepping over the prone body of a drow assassin, she lofted an eyebrow. "That don't hurt then, do it?" She jabbed a finger at the arrow still quivering in the half-orc's massive bicep.

"Hardly a pin-prick, my lady." he replied with dignity.

Clearly skeptical, Phenalope swept her eyes over him critically, head cocked attentively. The ambush had risen out of the shadows like a great black tide, on them almost before Phenalope's own hand could tighten over the hilt of her dagger. In the brief flashes lit by the Drow spellcasters, she had caughten a brief glimpse of Daelan from time to time, face contorted with conversation as his axe whistled through the air, more often than not with a Drow on his back, blade raised, spitting curses in his ear.

Now, his face was almost recognisable. The short hairs of his beard were knotted and tangled with blood, a great deal of it obviously his own from the innumerable knicks and cuts tattooed across his broad face. Most of the weapons weilded by their assailants had been insufficient to scratch the ancient breastplate Phenalope had reluctantly parted with earlier (mainly to make room in her already heavy pack), but had easily torn through his leathers and left their ghastly signatures on his skin in more than one place. Most of them were shallow -- the barbarian could be surprisingly quick-footed -- but a few were deep enough that they looked like ragged lips in his flesh, parting obscenely when he moved.

Phenalope wrinkled her nose and turned her head aside slightly, choosing instead to stare at a point directly above Daelan's head and to the left, fastening instead on an unidentifiable ichor staining a patch of moss in the walls. "Look, boyo, if this is some machismo thing . . . "

"Please, Phenalope." Daelan raised one hand and smiled gently. "I promise you, if I require assistance, I would seek it. However, our quest is more important than a minor scuffle . . . and I don't doubt we'll see others along the way."

Glad to give up her side of the argument, Phenalope stooped and wrenched the dagger out of the hide of the hound. It's body was already vanishing slowly, the magics that had sustained it gone. "Right," she said briskly, wiping her hand on her thigh with a moue of disgust, "well, if ye aren't goin' to bleed on my boots, let's got on with it, then. I don't wanna be about when this place starts to stink." Without waiting for an answer, she turned and strode briskly away, arms swinging energetically at her sides. If the barbarian wasn't about to lick his wounds, than neither was she. She aimed another kick at the hellhound's fading carcass, tottered as her foot swung through it, regained her balance and continued on faster than before.

Chuckling to himself, Daelan plucked the massive double-ax off of the ground and swung it across his shoulders, striding after her . . .

. . . at least until the tip of his toe collided with the large rock protruding from the stone floor.

Nerves jangling, Phenalope spun around at the heavy thud that followed, turning her explosive sigh of relief into an inquiring noise. Daelan was sitting on the ground, clasping his foot, and sucking his lower lip in and out of his mouth rapidly. "What're ye doin' down there?"

"Fell." Daelan gasped, offering her a quavery smile and rocking slightly.

"Why'd ye fall down?"

"N-No reason."

Phenalope arched an eyebrow.

Daelan's lips remained quivered in a smile, a single tear tracking down his cheek as he gingerly let go of his foot and shot the rock what he hoped was a well-concealed reproachful look.

"Right," said Phenalope, unsettled, "Let's be off, then, shall we?" And she whirled around and set off again.

After a moment, Daelan pushed himself to his feet, uttering a single, stifled, mornful squeak as his foot made contact with the ground. He hobbling as quickly as he could manage after her, sniffling and wiping briskly at his eyes, and taking care to straighten up hastily whenever she showed signs of looking about.

It was hell, being a barbarian.