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 Posted: Tue Jan 26, 2010 10:53 pm
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The bulb shaped entanglement of roots that completely swallowed Jex Thoth pulsed with life after those few moments of silence. Grass grew around the bulb at a rapid rate and the roots began to grow skyward, molding together as they went and sprouting branches, the branches sprouting leaves of green.
The small tree that rapidly formed before Mopar, Pagoda and the Dead verge stood out like a beautiful sore thumb against the pale, dark scenery in which two orcs prowled closer and closer. The roots that had grown and entwined to form the tree were still apparent, but they were one. It was about twice Pagoda height and conical, radiating life energy and casting an uplifting, energizing aura all about.
The spectacle was working in Gorch and Fock's favor.
"Quite the sight." Gorch grumbled from behind a tree, just a short dash away from his prey. Fock was huddled against him as they tried to hide themselves behind the thick, ancient tree.
"It makes me feel all warm and fuz-"
"The girl, you idiot. Nevermind that damned magical business- are you ready?"
"Hrm." Fock nodded with a disgusting, mangled grin, unsheathing a thin, long scimitar from his back.
"Alright," Gorch held up his right arm and cocked a wood crossbow, loaded with a crude bolt, "...now."
The rapid growth was finished, leaving the tree with a great many branches and a sea of leaves sprouting, hanging from the top. The trunk, a flowing, conical swirl of fused roots, was about twice as thick as the Horned Sage.
As soon as the tree had reached it's zenith of life it began to grey. The leaves withered and faded more rapidly than they had appeared. The tree seemed to stiffen and shrink a little, the fresh green grass that had grown around it browned and bowed. It was now rapidly dying.
One by one, and then two by two, and then in a shower the leaves fell... and the tree was dead.
A hole opened up in the trunk, revealing the sleeping face of Jex Thoth, facing Pagoda. He blinked three rapid times, wiggled his head a bit, and blinked two more times, slowly. Then grinned, rejuvinated. The aura that had been emanating from the tree seemed to shine from his face.
"Thank you for waiting, Pagoda," He said from inside the dead tree. His voice was once again filled with a kind of reserved, calm excitement. His usual distanced gaze fell directly upon her in a moment of approval, still grinning with his sharp, long canines.
THUNK!
A crude bolt thocked into the side of the tree facing the woods. Thoth's eyes creeped slowly to the right, his head unable to turn, as an extreme wave of puzzlement mixed with suspicion washed over his trapped face.
>.>
<.<
"...What was that?"
Outside of Jex Thoth's current feild of vision, Gorch, who wasn't the greatest shot, was loading another bolt into his crossbow, standing just next to the old tree on the edge of the forest.
Fock let out a howl, charging for Pagoda, his Scimitar held high, ready to bring it down across her chest.
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 8:48 pm
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Slowly she began to approach the tangle of vines when a cold shiver ran down her spine. A feeling of foreboding was washing over his figure, but before she could turn to investigate the tree began to move once again. Her eyes glazed over for a moment as she watched it grow, mouth slightly agape in awe. The feeling of dread was gone her attention fully encompassed by the spectacle.
She held up her hands, palms facing upwards as the tree began to wither. Catching a handfuls of leaves in her hands she held them wondering where the life hand gone from them so quickly.
Quote: A hole opened up in the trunk, revealing the sleeping face of Jex Thoth, facing Pagoda. He blinked three rapid times, wiggled his head a bit, and blinked two more times, slowly. Then grinned, rejuvenated. The aura that had been emanating from the tree seemed to shine from his face. "Thank you for waiting, Pagoda," THUNK
She jumped as the bolt hit the tree, causing her to turn on her heel to face the threat.
"GAH!"
Caught off guard by the attack she fell backwards as the Orc cut across with his blade tossing the handfuls of leaves she had caught in his face. Upon her knees, Pagoda tilted backwards onto her palms where she somersaulted backwards and out of immediate danger of the orc's weapon.
She then ran around the back of the now dead tree trying to get cover from the second orc with the bow.
"Mopar help!"
Asking the lazy bear for help didn't seem like the most sane idea but it seemed the large creature was missing from his aforementioned spot. As the tree grew and obscured the bear from the Orc's vision the panda had stole away into the woods on his own.
"MOPAR!? where'd you go!?" gonk
Frantic she looked back and forth for her companion, horrified to only have tree bound Jex for assistance.
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 9:58 pm
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"PAGODA!" Jex barked from within the tree (no pun intended) as the beastly humanoid (the orc, Fock) rounded the tree and swung his scimitar again.
WHUD.
"RUN!"
The sound of a blade biting deep into the trunk of the tree, the side of the tree Pagoda took shelter behind reached Thoth's pointy ears through the his viny chamber.
"Hrrg!" He pressed forward and, as he did so, the tree of roots parted for him, spilling his top half out into the open air.
THOCK!
Jex's head jerked to the side as if it'd been slapped but that didn't stop him. The tree continued to part for him down the trunk, releasing the rest of him. He fell fowards out of the dead tree then jerked to a stop- one of his hands was caught on something inside the trunk.
The Horned Sage caught a flash of one of the other attacker- the brutish looking creature was loading a third bolt into a tiny bow mounted on his forearm, kneeling in front of one of the old, dark trees. Mopar was lumbering into the woods not far from the orcs right side.
"Nnng-rah!" He wrenched Nagayina out of the tree trunk, the splitting roots barely able to keep up with his tug. Without a thought, without a blink, Jex turned towards the forest, took a few long strides and hucked the polearm with a grunt.
He didn't need to see it strike the orc- he turned around and rushed to help Pagoda...
=========
"Grrawr!" Fock snarled in anger as he barreled through the cloud of leaves after Pagoda. It wasn't long before he was upon her again, making a large swing with his right arm, aiming to cut the panda-girl in half, using the dead tree as a cutting board.
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Posted: Thu Jan 28, 2010 6:41 pm
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Gorch fumbled his arrow when he noticed the pole arm heading straight at his head. Ducking down in the knick of time, he was mere millimeters from becoming an Orc shish kabob. Cursing, he stood upright reading another shot before noticing a bear like growl from behind him.
Turning slowly, Gorch would only get a glimpse of a giant bear shaped mass before letting out a frightened high pitched scream.
"GRAAAAAA!"
_______
It was only moments after she had taken refuge behind the tree that the Orc was hot on her trail. Letting out a horrified squeak, she ducked as the blade came inches from lopping off her head. The blade made a dull thunk as it embedded within the tree once again. Having fallen on her bum she looked up at the giant brute who was about to dice her into tiny bits trembleing the tinyest bit. Fock freed his weapon with little effort. Leaning down to make his final strike, Pagoda, having no way to distract had little hope of her getting away with her life intact.
In a last ditch effort, she leaned back on her elbows and screwed her eyes shut putting all the force she could muster into one final kick.
WHUD
She planted her foot right in the jaw of the giant Orc causing his head to snap upward at an unnatural angle. For a moment, Pagoda and the monster where still, she still frightened that he would attack again.
THUD
After a couple seconds the green brute swayed and fell flat on his back, still unknown to weather he was unconscious or dead.
"Di-Did I do that?"
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Posted: Thu Jan 28, 2010 8:10 pm
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THUD. Fock the Orc's hitting the ground revealed a squatting Jex, already examing the orcs big green face.
"You mean to say you didn't mean to?"
He looked up at the panda-girl on the ground in front of the green lummox, examining her with innocent intrigue. She didn't look extremely powerful, yet...
He held a hand over the orc's mouth for a moment and stared down at it's chest. It was breathing.
"You knocked it out cold with a single kick, Pa- Pagoda, was it?" His eyebrows raised a bit as his eyes moved up the height of the orc to the girl. One kick? His gaze trailed up the sides of her calves. Without Nagayina, I would have a hard time felling this creature. Up her thighs...
Heeee- ack!.
His eyes snapped shut and he made an exaggerated frown, gulping and being thankful that he couldn't exactly blush. He stood, eyes remaining closed while regaining his calm composure.
"It's hard to believe you're as strong as you are pretty- harder still to believe that you walk these lands," He thought of the Square, with all the battles taking place in the pits and on the screens on the walls; and to the green monster laying at his feet, "without knowing how to use that strength."
Pagoda at least appeared light; agile. That, combined with her mysterious strength, intrigued Jex. And then it hit him, and he stepped ovet to her side.
"If it weren't for your helping me, these two brutes would have killed me, Pagoda."
He held out his midnight blue hand with it's pointy fingernails and smiled into her eyes, offering to help her up.
"Let me teach you."
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Posted: Fri Jan 29, 2010 7:38 pm
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Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2010 11:02 am
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>.o
I see what she means...
He turned towards the forest with a wary eye once Pagoda was on her feet. Now that he was alert and not inside a tree, there was a good chance he would know if someone was sneaking up on them.
Plus, it looked like Mopar had made sure the big green man with the armbow was dead, and the animal didn't seem to show that it'd sensed any more of the beasts.
"Your help probably saved my life, so of course," He yanked Nagayina out of a tree-trunk, "and it seems to me that we're both unfamiliar with this land. Plus..."
He waved for Mopar to follow him away from the Dead verge and back towards Latent.
"You and Mopar make good company."
He walked past her, Nagayina resting against his shoulder, going at a steady leisurely pace towards the port city.
"Come, I'll treat you to a drink." Treat himself was more like it. Images of the Square flashed in his mind, "And your first lesson."
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Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2010 11:49 am
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Posted: Wed Feb 10, 2010 1:40 am
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The Unseen Hand
- Part 1 –
Questgiver
It was such a pain waiting on unreliable people in order to get things moving, but it was because they were so unreliable that he couldn’t just leave without them and assume that everything would go properly; especially not with what lay ahead on their path and the role that they were to perform. If he hadn’t done his research he might have thought that they had chickened out and given up on this little venture… but of course he had picked this particular crew for a very specific purpose that promised they would not lose their nerve at the last second.
The sound of steel armor rattling with approaching footsteps gave them away before they were even close to the mouth of the cave. That man had no subtlety at all, but for some that could be a source of strength as well. To be clear, only one among the three had a light step and it was the reason why he was their Scout and not the brute of a Paladin that spoke for the group. They were, for all sakes, what the youthful dreamers of today might call an ‘adventuring party’: they fought monsters, they scoured for treasure, and they avenged… well, whatever there was to avenge at the time. The reason why they were here on this day pertained specifically to the leader of their group and the current contents of the cave that they were approaching and the information that had they had ‘picked up’ over the past week.
Little things. Subtle things. Like paying some drunks in a bar to chatter on about how this Dark Lord Hav’rik was looking for something in a system of caves two days journey to the west until it grew from chatter into a full-blown town rumor. After that it was only a matter of time before some ballsy adventurer types wandered through and picked up on the lead… or more specifically for this group, it was only a matter of time before Sir Avogard Renthil and his fearless companions arrived in that backwater town in response to an unsigned letter that was delivered to them. Never mind the day or so of asking around that it took to find someone as perfect for the set-up as Renthil… Clearly, he had been chosen by fate. Or destiny. Whichever of those two sounds better ringing in the head of a designated hero when he brought down the justice he had been craving for so long.
“Orcs.” If he recalled correctly their Scout was named Trav. Or Trip. Something that started with ‘Tr’.
“Lots of them, by the looks of things.” That was Sir Renthil stating the obvious, as usual.
“I don’t see any sentries, but we should scout ahead to be sure. It would be safer if we could tackle them one at a time rather than all at once.” And the only one of their number that had a real brain was the mage Chorl’ai. Honestly, with a name like that you could forgive a man for slapping his mother… if he had slapped his own mother… which was rather unlikely considering he carried a picture of her in his breast pocket.
“Agreed.”
The Scout moves up ahead of the group who waits back at the mouth of the cave waiting for word back to know that it is all clear, as to be expected. With the light snow covering the ground outside of the cave entrance the regular foot traffic of orcs that flowed in and out of the cave had left a mess of muddy boot prints trekking further inside to show that they were not there in small numbers; and the misspelled names written in yellow to the side were rather clearly indicative of what manner of foe awaited these adventurers inside. ‘KRNK’ is a name that speaks for itself, sadly.
He sunk back a little further into the shadow of the cave wall as the Scout slowly crept forward with a light step, keeping himself as silent as possible as he crept along the wall and moved deeper in. There were no orcs at all near the entrance… there had been sentries posted at the entrance about twenty minutes ago but by now they were buried under a few feet of snow and likely wouldn’t be found until the wolves dragged their bodies out and into the woods at nightfall. Of course, there was no way for Renthil’s group to know that they had been removed ahead of time to make their job easier.
The cave was dark enough and did not follow a straight course, but it echoed any noise that was louder than a breath so even though it would have been convenient to pull the tracker aside as soon as he rounded the first bend in the tunnel it would not do to have his companions hear him scream. He did have that type of face after all, and a wiry, girlish figure that made you think that a really nice sound might come out if you startled him enough to make it happen. Though that was exactly why it would be best to keep the Scout from doing anything that might attract the attention of his companions.
Perhaps that was why it seemed so unavoidably tempting to tap him lightly on the shoulder.
“Tch!” The tracker spun about in alarm and slashed with one of his blades across an unseen foe but his weapon caught nothing but air, the figure that he saw standing behind him was nowhere near close enough to have touched him just now but there was no one else in the tunnel in either direction… but even then, there had been no one behind him before this to his knowledge so how could the figure standing in the dark have appeared so suddenly without being passed—
Don’t scream. Don’t scream. Don’t scream. Don’t scream.
The human quickly drew his crossbow and leveled it at the figure standing in the dark… but only then did he see the way that this person stood, with a finger pressed to his lips and his hand gesturing low. It was best for him to keep his voice down; after all, there were quite a few orcs inhabiting these caves now.
“Show yourself.” the Scout whispered a demand of his quarry.
“Unless you want me to strip there isn’t a lot left for me to do.” answered the shadow standing in front of him.
“Fine then. Identify yourself. You haven’t attacked me yet, why?” The human kept the crossbow readied at his shoulder and pointed towards the shadow, though his free hand rummaged through a pouch at his belt for a small metal lighter.
The shadow raised its hands in response to the weapon being pointed toward it, but slid back noiselessly another two steps as the tracker lapsed in his attention for an instant to search for a light source. When the human flicked the flint and cast the area around him within a few feet in a dim orange light the shadow was just far enough away that his form was only barely illuminated… enough to show that it was not an orc at least and was unarmed.
“Me? Why just another weak monster wondering when you hero types are going to get around to clearing these orcs out of my cave…” there was an expectant pause that followed. “That is what you’re here for, isn’t it?”
“It might be, it might not.”
Obviously this human thought he was clever giving an evasive answer like that. It didn’t matter at all in the end, as this ‘cave monster’ was the one that had arranged for them to come here in the first place.
“Whether or not it’s what you came for, I beg of you… clear these stinking beasts out of my camp so things can go back to the way they were.” Playing the fool is so much easier when the audience cannot see your face, they only have the cues that they give you to go on; a twinge of fearfulness in the spoken lines, a submissive gesture like going to your knees on the ground, and they will believe that anyone is a weak coward. “I’ve hidden from them until now but I don’t know how much longer I will be able to avoid them finding me here. If you can—”
“Enough.”
“I can reward you.”
“I have more important things to do than to—”
“Hav’rik… is it?”
The name piqued a noticeable response out of the human. His posture stiffened slightly, indicating that muscles in his legs and back were tensing reflexively in response, and there was a slightly longer pause between his breaths during that time. All were signs that what had just been said would provoke the human to either listen attentively or fire his bolt. Though the smart gambler puts his money on…
“…what do you know?”
…a self-important ‘hero’ being willing to hear more about the villain he pursued. Perhaps an important piece of information about his troops and his traps, or perhaps it was a useful tidbit about his fatal weakness for delectable cherry pie. One can never be sure, and because of that a careful man like our friend the tracker would more than likely make the reasonable choice and seek to find out more.
“I know that he brought these beasts into my caves and had them start digging in deeper. I’ve heard the green brutes say his name a few times but none seemed to know what he’s looking for in the depths though, knowing his type, it’s probably some long-buried artifact of power.”
“What do you mean his type?”
“I mean liches. Aren’t they all just power-hungry, magic-seeking sycophants?”
The frustration borne from confusion on the human’s face was apparent… obviously using big words was a no-no from now on if he wanted the tracker to keep believing that he was just a cave-dweller out here in the middle of the woods. It was probably best to say something to keep his mind off of it before the scout hurt himself from thinking too hard. “Whether it’s an enchanted crown or a scepter of domination doesn’t really matter to me. I just want these orcs out of my camp and I can offer you a reward if you do… There’s a stash of treasure hidden deeper in the cave. I’ll tell you where it is if you promise to defeat the Dark Lord. If you do that these orcs have nothing to keep them here hauling rock and stinking up my cave.”
“…okay. Sure.”
It was almost staggering how much trouble he had gone through to set this up. If the tracker had declined he might have had to kill the stupid human just for spite’s sake. Likely he would resuscitate the tracker a few minutes later but it was the principle of the thing…
“It’s dangerous to go alone, take this.” The monster removed a folded piece of paper from a fold in its clothing and set it on the ground at the edge of the light, along with a small black rock with a sigil etched into the side of it.
The human looked down, but did not lower his bow. Slowly he put away the lighter and extinguished the glow from it before bending down and moving the stone off of the paper to take it.
“The stone too.”
“The stone too?”
“The stone too.”
“Why the stone?”
“It is a wardstone. You’ll need it to reach the treasure that I talked about. There is some gold and gemstones hidden in a hole I the rock for you to take but you’ll need that stone if you want the real treasure.”
The human tucked the stone into his pocket and picked up the map off of the ground… though he struggled with it for a moment to try and unfold the paper with only one hand and his steady grip upon the crossbow was faltering because of it. It took him a few seconds and biting down upon the corner of the paper but eventually he managed to open it up… which did him no good at all in the dark, now that his lighter was tucked away.
“It’s a map.” answered the shadow without the question being asked. “I’ve marked the orc camps and the routes that they patrol as best I could, as well as where I’ve hidden my treasure. There’s just one thing…”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“At the fork in the tunnel ahead, take the left path. It is narrow and winding at times, but it will bring you around to the other side of where Hav’rik is digging.”
Though human curiosity is not something to be underestimated. “What’s to the right?”
Certain death. Well… certain death for someone at his level and with such a small group. Having them take the long way around was the best way to ensure that they survived the journey without him there to guide their progress. He had other things to do while they were indisposed.
“The main encampment. Probably hundreds of orcs, it’s not safe to go that way.”
“I se-”
”Trip! Has something happened?”
It seemed as if the two who were waiting at the entrance had gotten impatient waiting for their companion. The reckless shout echoed in the cave tunnel even though they had been careful to not speak too loudly, and even though they were probably a good hundred meters down in the darkness still it was enough to break the conversation that was being had between the human and the ‘cave dweller’.
In that instant between when he turned his head to look down the tunnel towards them and when he looked back to where his crossbow was aimed, the stranger in the dark that had given him a quest had somehow disappeared.
Somehow.
The reality of it was that the monster was already behind him, pressed against an outcropping in the wall and hidden from view as he watched patiently; the tracker looking about frantically in all directions before tucking the map away and backtracking slowly towards the entrance and his companions. With a map and a warning their chances to survive this had gone up significantly… It was obvious that Renthil wouldn’t question him about how the tracker suddenly knew every twist and turn of the cave, and with any luck the tracker would make up a good excuse for why he had taken so long coming back rather than tell the others about his visitor and risk losing a larger share of the treasure stash. Even if they were suspicious there was no reason for them to ignore the warning and place themselves into even more danger.
The ‘cave monster’ shadowed them in advance until the fork, where it hid and waited as the tracker explained his skillful insight into orcish foot-traffic and how the majority of the forces here would likely be camped out down the right path. Credit where credit was due after all… neither the Paladin nor the wizard had the authority to call his bluff when it came to scouting and so they agreed quickly enough to take the left path and circle around behind the enemy.
For how easy it was to trick them it was remarkable how much trouble Joshua had gone to, but he had his reasons and if all went well they would never know about any of them. As the light from the mage Chorl’ai’s staff faded slowly around the bend he stepped out again from the deep shadows of the rough cave walls and headed down the right path.
Whether they made it the rest of the way was a test of their own mettle. For now, he had other preparations to attend to and the clock had just started ticking. |
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Posted: Thu Feb 11, 2010 1:03 am
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The Unseen Hand
- Part 2 –
101 Uses for Rocks
He knew the general layout of the cave well enough without the need for a map and was aware of the general habits of the orc patrols that wandered down the tunnel every now and again. Including the watchers that had been positioned outside of the cave there were three sets of sentries between the outside and the main encampment who changed every few hours with no set schedule. These were orcs after all… one should not expect too much out of them other than slobber and malice.
The first pair consisted of a brute and a runner, the main idea behind this setup being that the brute would kill whatever came along and the runner would go back to camp and get more orcs to ‘kill it deader’; the sheer brilliance of orcish tactics was mind boggling. The two easiest ways to bypass a group like this would first be to wait patiently until one dropped his trousers to autograph the wall and then slip by as the other laughed like a retard, or second to kill the runner before he could get to his feet and then down the brute; though that method risked one of them managing to shout before their throats were slit and these caves echoed for quite a distance. He had neither the time nor the patience to deal with their alarms at the moment, so he instead utilized the single most abundant resource he had at the moment: rocks.
This was an underground cave system in which an encampment of hulking brutes were being used as labor to tunnel even deeper in. It was not a difficult task to find a handful of pebbles before he reached the sentries and then it was a very simple game of misdirection in order to slip past without alarming them. A single stone thrown over their heads and down the hallway behind them made an echoing click as it struck the tunnel wall. Both would turn and look, and Joshua would find a comfortable stone to lean against a few yards from where they sat. One got up from the overturned crate he was using as a stool and headed toward the sound to investigate leaving the other alone, and without eyes in the back of his head it was only another moment before Joshua was now between them waiting for the other orc to return to his seat.
The last group was just as simple-minded, and was handled in a similar way. These warriors stood at the edges of the cave mouth where it widened out into a larger room that the main camp. Though another two stones thrown back down the hallway behind him made four loud cracks as they smacked against the tunnel wall and fell to the tunnel floor. The sentries went to investigate and that was where he would have simply continued on his way into their camp; had they not had the combined intellect to leave one of their number behind as the rest went ahead, that is. Obviously he wouldn’t be able to sneak past while the brute was still watching, but that was easily remedied with a liberal application of… you guessed it… rocks.
A blink wasn’t quite enough time to slip by and that meant that pegging that one in the eye still stood a chance of giving him away, though a little ways further behind the guard the orcish encampment was filled with able-bodied victims just ready to lend a hand. A blink wasn’t quite enough time to sneak past the guard but it was long enough for Joshua to step out and hurl another pebble before hiding himself again; this one sailing between a pair of tents that had been erected around a campfire and smacking one of the green oafs behind the ear. He shouted bloody murder over it of course, and for a few seconds the guard turned his back completely. A few seconds was enough. By the time the other sentries returned from the tunnel he had already skirted the outer wall into the cavern and slipped under the back of an empty tent to plan his next move.
The cave was the equivalent of a shanty town in how haphazardly the orcs had constructed their tents and unrecognizable piles of wood, but that only made it easier to find places to slip between them jumping from one group to another behind and between the residents as they sat around cooking fires and rambled on in orcish with what were probably embellished tales of their exploits in battle or crude fart jokes… though there was likely someone in this room telling a story about farting in battle.
He moved unseen and unheard, but it had been days since he came through here last and things had changed in that time. The air was thicker with the odor of filth and smoke and the cooking fires had built up a layer of dark ash on the highest parts of the cavern ceiling where the heat drew it up to, and also there were a great many more bones scattered about in piles and picked clean of any meat or ligaments with some even being broken in two with the marrow sucked out. Some were of forest animals but a good number of them were undoubtedly humanoid; not thick or large enough to be orcish aside from a few here and there and likewise there were a small number of frail-looking remains that might have belonged to an elf at some point, but between the skulls lining their tents and the bones littered around their cooking fires he estimated that there were just about enough human remains here to make up a small village. Likely it was an outlying farming community at the edge of the forest that had been the unlucky victim of their latest supply raid.
There were even a few humans still alive.
In a cage built around a recess in one of the walls there were a half dozen or so waiting to become the next meal. He could see from a hundred meters that the men were wounded, likely from the battle or they would have only been beaten to tenderize them rather than cutting the livestock before it was time to cook the meat. Not that it was any of his concern at all… he wasn’t here to rescue any captive villagers or do random acts of justice that involved killing a hundred greenskins for seven half-dead humans. He had no use for them except to use as a distraction, but it was better to leave with none of them ever knowing he had been here than to set the captives free and fade into the chaos. The more unpredictable this camp became, the more likely it was someone would eventually see him pass.
Every single living thing in this encampment was his enemy, and his friends were the pebbles in his hand. A stone thrown at an orc beside a table of weapons knocked them over and caused a scene, allowing him to pass by a group that was seated in front of a tent he had hidden behind. Another knocked the soup bowl from the hands of a brute that was blocking the narrow passage between the cavern wall and an oddly misplaced overturned table, causing the orc to wander off grumbling. And then there was that one couple that seemed to be having an argument-- when they each turned their backs in a huff he slipped sideways through the few inches that were between them and squeezed a firm handful of olive-colored orcette rump; something that immediately caused her to spin around and deck the poor sap standing behind her.
A single well-placed distraction was as effective as any invisibility spell… and far more entertaining.
By the time Joshua slipped out the other side of the camp and left the open cavern he had used up all of the stones that he had brought with him but picked up a strip of chewy dried meat that must have been some kind of orcish jerky. Likely it was made of human and seasoned with some type of insect paste but all things considered it was actually pretty good; it was at the very least better than the bacon served at Denny’s. That was actually a bit morbidly amusing, and he couldn’t help but crack a smile as he etched a circle into the cavern wall with the stick of chalk he had brought along in his pocket and placed his hand upon it to seal off the passage behind him. Better than Denny’s… ha.
There would be no more sentries stationed between here and the excavation cavern. The ‘Dark Lord’ had his personal effects and personal guard kept there and that is where he would be as well, waiting for his digging team to uncover the long buried Vault of M-- of M-- Damnitall, it was all so pointless that now he’d forgotten what the thing was called. It didn’t really matter, there was nothing buried beneath these caverns anyway unless the lich managed to strike a gold vein by some miracle of dumb luck.
Joshua didn’t bother hiding anymore. The two orcs nearest the tunnel that he had come through were gurgling blood with slashed throats before any of the others noticed him. Another grabbed a pick and charged at him but there was no chance from the start; he ducked under the swing and stepped across, slashing the dagger across the creature’s abdomen and then passed it to his other hand as he snapped a kick at the back of its knee, causing it to stumble forward to the ground with its innards becoming outards. By now the rest of the room seemed to have decided to trade in their shovels for swords.
“Enough!” The Dark Lord Hav’rik’s voice boomed throughout the chamber as the robed skeletal figure rose from his throne… a gaudy golden, jewel-encrusted thing that did not mesh well with the whole ‘mining camp’ décor that the rest of the chamber had going for it. “Who dares intrude upon the presence of the Dark Lord! Name yourself and in my mercy you shall have it scribed upon your grave!”
Hold that thought. Time out. One second. Joshua held up his hand pleading for a short reprieve from giving an answer so that he could finish chewing. God, that was really good jerky. He flicked his wrist and cast most of the blood from his knife, cleaning the rest by wiping each side of it upon his pant leg before tucking it back into the sheath on his belt.
“…” The empty sockets of the lich’s skull stared back at him, and had his face still bore any flesh it was anyone’s guess as to what sort of expression he might have been wearing.
“Pe- *cough* Erm, sorry.” He pounded his chest once with a cough and ran his tongue around his cheek to clean away the remaining shreds of jerked meat. “Percy Hav’rik of Antagonia you are in violation of the Methuselah Act, Article 7. Or 12. I hate the Methuselah Act. One second.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a slip of folded paper, checked it, and then crumpled it up and stuck it back in. “It was 7.”
“…are you insane?” The booming voice of the lich drowned out the echoing whispers and giggles of ‘Percy’ that had quickly spread throughout the cavern.
Joshua rolled his shoulders backwards and hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his pants as he stared down the undead magus with a cracked smile. “A little, yeah.”
“You must be if you’ve come all this way with no allies to back you up just to die. I admire your tenacity stranger, but this foolishness has come to an end. I don’t know what you were thinking but curse your own stupidity in hell. Kill this-”
“Find it yet?” An awkward pause followed as the room sat in silence. “That Vault thing or whatever… Ah, I can never remember what I named the damn thing. Did you find anything in that hole other than rocks?”
“How did you-”
“Yeah. It’s not in there you know. You should be able to tell that there’s nothing magical buried here.”
“The lies of an ignorant fool hoping to bargain for his life no doubt. My divinations showed me the precise location of the Vault of Necross and we are mere days from finally-”
“Faked them.” The ‘ignorant fool’ walked to a nearby cart filled with broken rock from the dig and picked up a chunk, tossing it up in the air twice and catching it in his hand again, before turning and hurling it into the hole that had been carved into the far side of the cavern. “You rely too much on your crystal ball when all you have to do is look out the window to see if it’s raining. Should have known better than to come out of your warded lair chasing after treasure with only your gut instinct to go on… hell…”
With a laugh he threw his hand out and pointed a finger towards the lich’s midsection.
“If you still had any guts I wouldn’t have tricked you into coming out here just so I could put your bones in the ground.”
“What!? You cur! You BRAGGART!” the magus raised a skeletal hand and waved his staff toward the interloper. “I’ve had enough of your prattle! A prize to the one who brings me his head!”
Really, all this trouble just for the perfect set-up… It takes a real practical joker to appreciate the subtle layers of deception involved in a trap like this. Unfortunately for the rest of these clowns, for this to work out the way he wanted it to there couldn’t be any witnesses left. |
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2010 12:53 am
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The Unseen Hand
- Part 3 -
Scheduling Conflicts
There are many things that can be said about orcs but if there is one compliment that could be paid to the race above all others it is that they are not cowards. They will not shrink away from a fight no matter how dangerous the enemy and they will fight to the very last one of them has fallen. No matter what the humans and elves might think of them with their savage customs and barbaric culture in the eyes of others there is a certain nobility in stubborn self-destruction. To never give up, even when death is assured and to continue to fight against all odds until the very last breath. Greenskins may have been simple, but they were pure.
“Come on then! One of you! All of you!” he shouted to the horde, beckoning it to come at him with their weapons at the ready. He spread his arms and turned to them, bearing a wicked grin upon his face. The invitation was accepted by the boldest of them as they charged forward with reckless abandon, weapons brandished and ready to strike; then the meeker ones followed, shouting and screaming their war cries as they too charged into battle.
It was chaos that followed, nothing short of pure chaos. The first to fall was not the bold orc that charged in first but rather the one that charged behind it-- Joshua had ducked beneath the heavy sword and stepped deftly around the charging orc to his rear, pivoting on that foot and crouching low as his other came across and kicked out the shin of the next orc in line; then while it was off-balanced he grabbed it by the loincloth and swung the creature into the path of an axe coming down from his left. Another weapon swept horizontally at him and he stepped in, grasping the arm in both hands and spinning his shoulder back into the orc’s chest before planting his heel outside of the brute’s own foot and hurling he orc over his shoulder into another of their number that was readying to swing. Others came, and with a weave of his shoulders or by placing his hand against their arm the swings struck only air and were pushed aside with a flowing movement before he stepped behind one creature and in front of another. It was not merely chaos because of the number on the battlefield, but he sowed confusion within their ranks by disappearing from their sight and turning reckless strikes towards an ally rather than the enemy.
Of the first six that fell in combat, five were to the blade of an ally, and one of those required nothing on his part other than stepping aside to let the strike connect with the greenskin behind him. He did not draw a weapon of his own, he did not need to; there were more than enough swords and axes here for him to make use of. An overhead strike came from behind him and he spun only halfway, deflecting it to the side with his bracer even as he slid his other foot backwards suddenly in a wide step between the legs of an enemy; pushing his back into it an instant later to drive his left elbow into the orc’s gut and throw his right forearm into the crook of the creature’s elbow to stop its weapon and then moving both at once, the left to the brute’s neck and the right to the pommel of his sword, to throw the greenskin over his shoulder to the ground in front of him and strip the weapon from its hand in one movement. The heavy orcish blade then cut shallowly through its owner’s neck and continued on a circular path into the knee of another before being abandoned as Joshua stepped forward onto the crumpled form’s back and leaped onto the shoulders of another, ripping an arrow from the creature’s quiver and slamming it into the back of its green neck and then shoving off again into a back-flip.
“Ix’telyat’ll Ah-shiet’na!”
The lich’s incantation was barely heard over the war cries of his underlings and those that took notice of it turned just in time to see a ball of fire jet out from the end of the Dark Lord’s staff and over their heads to collide with the crossed arms of the intruder. The blast sent a trail of smoke and fire rocketing off to the side from where it impacted but almost as if it bounced off of something the smoke trail changed course sharply and fell back into the midst of the digger horde. He was still fighting, seemingly without even so much as a scratch on him the intruder continued to bring down one orc after another even though his clothing still burned slightly at the fringes and his body was streaked with black ash.
“I overestimated you if that’s the best you can muster!” He called over the sound of an arm breaking as he snapped the elbow joint in the wrong direction after twisting the arm inwards following a sidestepped strike. “You’ll run out of orcs soon. What will you do then?”
“Silence!” With an angry shout the Dark Lord Percy pointed a skeletal finger from his throne and chanted the words of a spell; in another second a beam of green light shot out from his hand and straight into the back of a greenskin that was pulled into the path of the ray in the last moment. The orc stumbled back a single step, then another as his arm fell to the ground beside it, and at last toppled over a fallen companion and collapsed to the ground as nothing more than a mound of dust.
And then there were five. Five orcs left from the group of around two dozen that had been excavating in the cavern and the rest lay dead or dying upon the cave floor with wounds from their own weapons. He was making a complete fool out of them and he was well aware of this fact… he even went so far as to raise his hand to the pit boss and goad it further; a creature of remarkable stature that easily stood eight feet tall and swung an axe that had by now felled likely half a dozen of his companions with the wide, deadly sweeps.
They did not share a common language but they did not need one for something as simple as this. To go into battle one does not need words, and to understand an enemy it was only necessary to look at the way he carried himself. At the moment, this man’s stance was telling them all: ‘you will die’.
“Come on then.”
The pit boss charged forward and drew the axe back for a strike; Joshua stepped up and wrenched a wide blade from a body on the ground beside him into his hand, spun it upwards, and ducked low. The horizontal swing of the great axe struck the flat of the blade to his side and slid up and over; he held it at a diagonal slant with his free hand against the other side of the flat to direct the axe strike over his head as he ducked. Though he did not strike. He stepped to the side and turned, slinging the sword out end-over-end to bury itself into the neck and shoulder of one of the other orcs and with a pivot he wrenched another blade free from the ground and repeated the process another time; this time angling the blade the other direction to catch the axe on the return swing and again stepping behind the pit boss with a spinning backhand strike to bury the blade halfway into the greenskin there.
The Dark Lord began another incantation but in that moment Joshua stepped behind the pit boss, keeping the large orc between them and leaving the lich no target to hurl a spell at.
“Come on,” he repeated to the brutes, taking a few steps backwards as he hopped over fallen bodies and weaved between them. Behind him was one of the two other greenskins that still stood and ahead was the big boy; and he, between the two of them, beckoned both onwards. They willingly obliged, with a terrific war cry and more than a small amount of spittle that accompanied it. He certainly did respect orcs for being bold and fearless even amidst a massacre, but they were not careful creatures. The axe came across again and this time he did not guard or duck it at all but instead did a barrel roll; shifting from backstepping to surging forward in an instant he flipped sideways over the weapon just barely skirting the shaft as the axe blade cut the brute charging at him behind clean in two. Landing softly upon his feet one foot slid forward slightly and Joshua ducked in low, then lashed out with a pulse of supernatural strength that blew the beast’s leg out from under it with a single punch. It fell to its knee for just a moment, but that was all it took.
“Bang.”
Fissures erupted across the creature’s head as blood billowed out in a cloud from the other side from the pressure built up inside; the orc’s skull shattering from within as a thundering crack of energy burst every blood vessel at once in a massive internal hemorrhage. The man responsible held two fingers to the greenskin’s temple, and as the creature slumped down to join the others dead upon the floor he brought his hand back, flexed it and rotated his wrist with the sound of a pop, and turned to face the lich himself. And then there was one.
The lone orc that remained shouted violently and hurled an axe towards him, something that was evaded with a simple dip of the head and a turn of the shoulder. It drew a long blade and charged over the bodies of its clan at the enemy that had felled them and thrust the blade straight through the chest of the enemy-- who then snatched the brute by its neck in one hand and squeezed with so much power as a crackling arc of energy flowed through his arm that his fingers pierced the flesh and dug in as deep as a wolf’s fangs. In another moment, there were none.
He grasped the flat of the blade in both hands and pulled it outward until it came free of his chest, the weapon coated in viscous black ichor that seemed out of place amidst the red blood of the orcs that was spread so thickly across the cavern. Casting the blade to the side the man folded his arms across his chest and asked: “Are you ready to go?”
The Dark Lord was not pleased. Nor was he ready. They were never ready when it came down to the end of the line… it was just something about the personality of a person who would go to such great lengths to keep themselves alive for so long that kept them from ever being able to accept that their time had finally come. Hav’rik raised his staff again, ready to rain down magical destruction upon this lone man who had come to challenge his absolute authority… and he had to know.
“Before you die I’ll have you tell me stranger, why you are here. Another village that was destroyed by my minions or the revenge of a father who died by my hand attempting to avenge his father who died by my hand?”
“You’re late for an appointment… by about 128 years or so.”
“128 years? That would be…”
Likely the lich had stopped keeping track of his own age by now, the ones who cheat their way into immortality usually tended to think that those things are beneath them once they have the ability to live forever.
The Reaper answered for him. “The day you died.”
A hastened incantation followed and another ball of flame shot out from the magi’s staff, one that was slapped out of the air with a backhand and burst into a hellish inferno on the spot; but not two seconds later Joshua stepped out from it breathing smoke from his mouth and clenching a discolored and blistered fist in front of him that was already beginning to regenerate into unblemished skin.
“Hey-”
“What are you?”
“Let’s play a game, okay-”
“Leave now or I’ll turn you to dust!”
“Here are the rules-”
“I’ll melt your bones into the stone so that you’ll never be found!”
“I’ll take a step forward every time you cast a spell-”
“Stay back! Stay away or I’ll… I’ll…”
“And if you can kill me before I get to you, you win.”
“PROTECT ME!”
The lich grasped his staff with both hands and snapped it cleanly in two, letting loose a terrific bolt of purple energy that struck like lightning at the corpses littered around the cavern and jumped from one to another to another in an instant. In another second the bodies began to stir and writhe, the necromatic bolt that had been released through them animating the corpses into undead to rise in service of their master. Bloodied hands reached for weapons that were strewn about and the slain green bodies began to rise once more--
“Bad dog.”
Joshua held out his hand with the palm facing downward and released a pulse of energy that shot outward through the cavern, returning everything to the way that it had been. His energy forced out the necromatic power that was animating the corpses and turned undeath to death once again. And he took a step forward.
“Give me a fun one next time, Percy. You don’t want what happens when I get bored with this game.” |
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Posted: Sun Feb 14, 2010 3:53 am
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A bolt of lightning cut through the darkness of the cavern. Even with torches lit to light the open space it provided little more than flickering shadows upon the walls to pierce the deep, pervading darkness of the underground; but for that instant where the lightning cut through the distance between them it lit up like bright daylight and then faded to blackness again just as quickly. The bolt struck true straight into his chest, as it was destined to; he was a man of honor and the rules for this game were ones that he head set himself… but more than that, his pride demanded that he not step back and only step forward – one foot at a time, one spell at a time.
The arc of electricity ripped through his body, forcing an involuntary reflex as his muscles tensed and relaxed unpredictably and the faintest wisps of smoke rose from his back and shoulders from the flash-cooked flesh… and when it was over he took another step forward.
The skeletal hands raised up again with another incantation and a spray of crystalline shards and a blast of frigid cold issued forth through the cave fiercer than the coldest winds the frozen north could ever muster. The freezing blast washed over him in an instant and consumed his body entirely within the snow and ice for the span of a moment; and then, as if brushing a leaf from his shoulder he reached up and ripped a dagger-like shard of ice from his chest and another from his arm. Ice was forming upon his skin from the cold and as he moved it broke into fragments as the frozen skin beneath cracked and split with each movement, allowing thick, cold blood to ooze out like molasses… and with his lips parted in an amused smile he took another step forward.
Aged and bleached-white teeth parted as the ancient magus spoke another incantation and from his raised arm hurled forth another spell in the form of four bright spheres that shot in arcing paths towards the enemy that was approaching from the front… That unknown enemy that dared to stand before the Dark Lord and make such a boastful claim and that foolish creature that thought to test the limits of a lich’s patience with talk of games when his life was forfeit for such an insult!
That enemy raised his hands up as the spheres arced inwards and caught one in each of them with an impact that blew the frost from his gauntlets and sizzled like meat in a frying pan before they were completely and utterly crushed out of existence. But that was only two and there were four total; the others slammed unforgivingly into his chest and midsection with a similar sound, burning holes into the blood-spattered shirt he wore and forcing his right foot back a step with the force of impact… but only his right foot. His grin turned to laughter as the right foot came back, passing by his left and advancing forward another step.
“What’s so funny!? You’re going to die here!” the Dark Lord’s booming voice echoed through the cavern once more as his skeletal arms raised up again; the sleeves of his robe sliding up across bare bone as another incantation was uttered and the lich pointed his finger forward again. “Stop laughing!”
A green ray shot out from the magus’ hand just as it had before, though this time there was nothing to shield the intruder from it and he would not run and would not hide. He would not even defend himself. He only continued to laugh as the beam struck him below the right eye, turning his head away just as it did in response to the feel of the energy burning into his flesh. Dust fell to his shoulder and it fell to his feet, layers of skin and muscle peeling off in brittle fragments as the spell ate through his body… but only that and nothing more. The laughter never stopped.
“Die! DIE! Why don’t you DIE already!? I-”
The roaring laughter he hadn’t held back before dulled to a chuckle, but his head turned back in response to the words from the lich; his face half flesh and half bone now but rather than decaying more it only grew back more as he looked to the undead abomination across from him with half his mouth stretched in a grin that had only one anchor and left his lips to hang loose beside a mouth of pointed teeth. Strands and fibers of muscle stretched and grew over sinew and bone, skin crept like moss growing on stone to fill in the places it had once been; like watching a candle burn in reverse that which was once whole became that way again before the very empty eye sockets of one who had thought himself to be immortal.
“Die? Don’t make me laugh.” His left foot picked up from the ground and stepped forward as was his due. “I won’t die if you only kill me five or six or seven times…”
The lich recoiled, stumbling backwards into the golden throne he stood in front of and nearly tripping to sit back upon it. The skull turned to the left and to the right, the skeletal hands dug through the pockets and sleeves of his robes searching for reagents so that he could cast another spell, searching for scrolls and wands so that he could kill this… this thing in front of him again and again as many times as it took to keep it from coming any closer. His most powerful spells had not stopped it, still it advanced with that shameful confidence with one step at a time only after he had cast. Still following the rules of that foolish game, still mocking his glory!
“What’s wrong, Hav’rik? You need to focus, it’s your turn after all. Unless you’re saying that you don’t want to play with me anymore…” The man reached out with his right hand, the same gesture he had used against the pit boss before he had killed the brute so coldly and mercilessly. “Don’t bore me yet, Percy!”
“Don’t talk down to me! Don’t act like you’re better! No one is! I am the Dark Lord, scourge of this world!” From his sleeve the lich pulled a scroll and unfurled it, placing his fleshless hand upon the words scrawled upon the page and reciting the incantation from it; the letters flashed for a moment and vanished, the magic consumed, and a ball of sickening, churning mass hurled out from the page. “None are my equal! None!”
The ball slammed into the ground in front of the laughing man and burst into a green fog that billowed up and hung in the air, and in only a second it was gone completely; the cloud ripped apart from within and scattered to the edges of the cavern while the monster of a man that was meant to be burned alive by the acid fog stood with his arms spread wide… and he stepped forward again.
“Show me more.”
The charade continued another ten times. With each step forward the lich grew more and more desperate, reaching deeper into his bag of tricks and throwing the most powerful spells that he had towards the intruder, and with each step forward the monster in front of him laughed away his best efforts like he were no more than a powerless child. No matter what he did, no matter how many spells he cast he could not stop this person-- no, it could not possibly have been that. He was the Dark Lord Percival Hav’rik and no man alive could survive him… but this person… he was no man. This was a genuine monster. And somewhere, somehow in the shriveled black heart he had cast aside to obtain this illusion of immortality the feeling of sheer and abject terror for his own existence was overtaking him.
“No! No! Stay back! Stay away!” he screamed out as the shadows around him leaped forward taking form, furling cloaks and scythes borne upon immaterial bodies that surrounded the monster and slashed and clawed; but each was turned back to the smoke and shadows they were made from with nothing more than a stern glance from the stranger or a sweep of his hand. And he stepped forward.
“So pathetic…”
“Come no closer! I- I command you to-!”
They were so close now… so very close. Too close! He had to stop the monster before it swallowed him whole, he had to keep it back! Skeletal hands flew forward again and a sticky web entangled the man for a moment and only a moment; it was cut in an instant without swords or knives and the end came closer by another step.
“I can smell it.”
“No no no no no no no no-”
“I can smell the fear in you.”
“No no no no NO! I can’t! YOU can’t!”
There was no time left for him! It was all over! His only thoughts now were of protecting himself with abjurations and wards, of raising shields and defenses and barriers to build a magical fortress around himself to keep out all the bad that threatened to take away what he had worked for so long. His life! His power! He could not defeat the thing that stood mere paces from him with eyes like a wolf circling in for the kill. But with each shield he raised the wolf drew closer, his protections would not save him they would not help him they only hastened the end and that thing that thing that stared that laughed that smiled that smile that haunting thing of pointed teeth and echoing echoing in the corners of his mind! It could not end now it could not end here!
“That’s right…”
He was there. IT was there. Two steps away one step away no steps away already too late the game that kept him safe the game he could not win the game was over and this-- this was the end. He tried to step back but he only fell into the throne of gold and jewels that he thought was so fitting for a powerful ruler, that throne that he would have traded for anything at this moment as that thing leaned forward with his hand outstretched and pressed it against the shields he had raised to keep it out. The power, the power was nothing compared to this thing he tried to fight against he could not win he could not run he could not hide he could not hide!
“…just close your eyes…”
He could do nothing, he could think of nothing, his spells had left him and his mind was blank as he sat back in the throne he thought he deserved and watched as that hand came nearer still even through his many protections. The wards crackled and fought against it but inch by inch it forced through, peeling away the skin and tearing at the flesh but even then it seemed that it did nothing at all as that hand came to his face ready to end him and he could do nothing – nothing with all his power!
“…and pretend it’s all just a bad dream.”
And then… there was nothing.
No sound, no light, no wards, and no monster. The Dark Lord Hav’rik sat alone upon his throne of gold and gems, untouched and unharmed with nothing but the dead to keep him company. The dream was over.
“Dark Lord Hav’rik prepare to meet your end!”
The boisterous voice of Sir Avogard Renthil cut through the silence; the Paladin striding forward with his companions on either wing and the tip of his sword pointed judgmentally towards the lich who sat upon the throne… alone.
“…what is… who dares…?”
“For your crimes against this world I, Avogard Renthil of Cheschia will see you dead! I will avenge all of whom you have killed with this, my sword!”
“I… I have no time for you, peasant! I must hurry before-”
The lich froze. It… was gone. His phylactery that had been set among the gemstones in his throne, the container that housed his soul and the very source of his immortality was gone! It could not have been as such, it had been there only a moment ago and then-
Percy Hav’rik’s gaze turned upwards and his jaw dropped, pearly whites hanging open as the skeletal mage stared at the figure that walked along the ceiling away from him with a fist-sized blue gem clutched within his hand, out of view of the three buffoons that had stumbled into the excavation chamber by some stroke of serendipity.
“Have at thee, villain!” called the heroes as they charged forward into battle against the dumbstruck mage.
Were this any other day, they would have died in seconds. Were this any other time, they would not have had the shadow of a chance to win. But this was indeed today, and this was indeed now, and this was indeed the perfect set-up.
Joshua dropped down beside the rear wall of the chamber and left as silently as he had come, slipping away into the shadows of the same tunnel he had entered by as he watched the adventurers battle against the weakened mage. The wardstone that he had given Trip had given him plenty of warning that they were getting near when it crossed each of the alarm sigils that he had left in the other tunnel. It was still not a certain victory for them yet, but without his most powerful spells and his trump cards to play the lich was a foe they would be able to beat. And though they were almost overcome by the Dark Lord’s magic eventually Sir Renthil’s holy blade found a home within the chest of the skeletal mage that had been responsible for the razing of his home town. At that time, Joshua smashed the phylactery against a stone preventing the lich from returning ever again.
Three heroes, accepting the call of destiny, venture forth upon a journey to avenge those dear to them, and at long last they defeat a great evil to bring justice at last. Or something like that. Fairytale mumbo-jumbo, but something that people like to believe. Whether it was the absolute truth or not wasn’t important to the people… stories like this gave them hope, and it was only proper for a villain to be brought down by a hero.
After all… monsters only live beneath beds, and Reapers only dwell in fantasy. |
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Posted: Tue Mar 02, 2010 11:58 am
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Login ID. . . I3ambi
Password. . . **********
Incoming Transmission. . .
A young man stepped from a small cave covered by a strange leaf and shrub covered shourd. Yawning as he did. He was quite tall, well maybe of average height at about 5 foot 11 inches, his silver white hair reflected the every beam of light that made it through the top canopy of the dense forest. His eyes seemed almost as white as his hair, giving the impression he may have partial blindness, although this was not the case, and in an average lit area, not like this dark undergrowth of shrubs where his eyes appeared almost white, they would appear a more concentrated metalic grey. He was smiling, his eyes half open due to having just woken up. He wore a blue jacket with a red hoody underneath it. As he stepped out a clunk could be heard, to which upon his back he had a customary German Großes Messer styled sword.
He had only just awoken when he heared something that could only be described as a battle cry from a scout group of Orcs, recently they had apparently increased their activity. As Nero turned his head still slightly tired he heard a snapping, well more of a loud cracking, as a tree very close to him, snapped in half and fell nearly crushing him. Luckily, although he was sleepy, he was waking up pretty fast and just managed to dive roll to the right, then from the small dust cloud that had been created by the impact of the large mass of wood making contact upon the dirt covered ground, a group of about 4 gruntish like Orcs appeared all snarling at Nero. Apparently they had seen him. Nero had no choice he would either try and "talk" his way out around their lack of inteligence, or the more likely option fight his way out.
"Grrr!?!? THERE HE IS!!!" One of the Orcs called, to which he hit the one next to him across the back of his battle scared head. "I ******** TOLD YOU I SAW SMOKE AND FLAMES HERE LAST NIGHT!!!" The other Orc growled slightly and then they all charged at Nero. But Nero had already grabbed the handle of his blade "The Red Queen", to which he smiled as the smallest and quickest of the four orcs made it to him first. It swung it's nail covered club at Nero, but Due to it's bulkish nature he had time to duck and at the same time due to his blades light weightedness for him he had managed to swing it and remove the orcs legs like a hot knife through butter. As that orc fell forward, Nero positioned his blade at an angle which easilly removed the orcs head obviously killing it instantly. But as this happened another two of them had managed to get at both sides of him, yet luckliy they were not skilled in snycronized assualts and one managed to attack first to which, Nero only had time to place his right arm in the way to which as this Orc's Great Hammer made contact with it, Nero was sent hurdling back and hit his back up against a tree.
"Ow that hurt ya know?! Nero said he was now obviously full awake.
(Open Ended Post for somebody to jump in. ^^)
End Transmission  x x x x x x
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Posted: Fri Mar 05, 2010 10:18 am
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One of the downsides to living so far from civilization and where one worked is that you either had to walk the distance or ride. And if you lacked something to ride you had to walk. Not that Damion ever complained, he liked walking and riding in equal measure and when he couldn't get his mount to cooperate he would walk. The Dead Forest held no dangers that he couldn't overcome anyways, as good at hiding and striking from the shadows as the snakes he adored.
" Hrm...orc tracks."
Such huge footprints could only come from orcs after all, easily twice as wide as his own normal sized feet. Normal for him after all, long seperated from the rest of humanity. Oh well, a group of orcs was no threat and no concern to him after all, they weren't even moving in the same way! Damion himself was headed towards Latent and the Stadium not far from there, but the tracks seemed to be going to the east, deeper into the forest.
" Pff....s'hardly a sport..."
The Hydra's crossbow swung around nonetheless, no sense in not being careful after all, and he began to thread his way across the dirt patch, wanting the cover of the tree's again. He could hear noises from not far off though, the noise warped and distorted, as if bouncing off of many things to reach his pointed ears. fighting? Orcs fought amongst themselves, he shouldn't be suprised at all, but he could already hear howls of pain, and a shout that maybe ment someone was in trouble. After all, Orcs lit bonfires, great huge things that anyone could see from leagues around.
Maybe it'd do for abit of searching? Couldn't hurt, his employer wasn't exactly waiting for him after all, so abit of a detour wasn't a bad thing. Damion turned back, tracing the Orc's steps as best he could with the passage of time, following half through their fetid stench as much as by sight.
He closed on the fighting fast, using bushes and trees to mask his approach as he spotted their backs to him. No sense jumping in so randomly though, so he hid, watching the conflict. Who was fighting? The elemental's clothes were suited for this, dark green and tan to blend in with the plants and the dirt.
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