The Dead Forest (Increased Orc activity due to skirmish)

[Eternal Dirge]

Damion flicked blood and maggots off his hands, grunting in disgust," Think they'd have the decency to just die..." He muttered to himself, turning to catch Maximos's last kill. While their methods may have been different, even he could appreciate the difference in methods. His employer was a masterful fighter, and he wielded the scythe well. Briefly he wondered how he would fare in such a fight, before Maximos adressed him.

We need to talk.

" Aye, I think we do." He replied, rolling his head around on his neck as if to releive a kink in his bones. Had he been capable of grimacing, he would have. Damion walked towards his boss in an almost agressive way, stepping on a body without noticing and continuing on. His nose twitched alittle as he smelled the air, the scent of blood almost overpowering. Maybe I'm like a shark? Damion thought to himself, getting nothing from his second occupant. Oh well....." I'm hungry." He stated bluntly, head perking up as he realised this.  

[Maximos]

" I'm hungry."

He stated bluntly, to which Maximos immediately followed up with.

Your infected.

As if to bluntly remind him precisely what his hunger had purchased him. What Damion could not see right now, was his spirit. His body was, on a spiritual level infested with similar maggots, they crawled through the mechanisms and channels through which his magical and soul essences flowed. He was a walking ball of worms. Perhaps physically as well. Maximos firm, definite tone, brought a certain gravity to the situation.

I can see it. The spirit within you is able to keep the worms from exerting magical control...for now. But as the night progresses their power will grow. By sunrise, they will awaken and consume you...

Uriel nudged the shredded body beside him with the side of his scythe, maggots crawling through it, through veins and openings, but also through a honeycomb of holes in its musculature.

...As they have consumed them. And the spirit will be powerless to save you. However, Nikolai cannot complete his ritual until sunrise.

The Reaper's fingers rolled on his weapon, tightening his grip, almost as if he was readying to actually use it. But his level, almost emotionless face seemed to say that he was too calm and too cool headed to do something so suddenly drastic.

I will allow you your revenge. Should you choose to fight with me, we will hunt Nikolai and end him and Ysmidon's servants. Perhaps, his death free you, perhaps not.

From the direction of the large tavern, something was moving, something not seen but heard shuffling awkwardly. It was an obvious sound, but the danger it represented was nothing against the immediate threat that Maximos was spoke of.

But, if by dawn you are still infected, I will have no choice but to put you down.

One might expect him to add on the words, Nothing personal, but the chill in Reaper Recruits voice, the look on his face, even his stance said that nothing about him was personal, at all. Ever. No it seemed more that he was poised and ready to strike, just incase Damion took the route traveled by so many in similar situations and ran, at which his stay of execution was likely to be cut short. As if verbally prodding the elemental for a response, Maximos added.

Understand?  

[Eternal Dirge]

Damion cocked his head to the side as he half listened, eyes raking the surrounding forest with the critical eye of someone who has grown up in a similar place, atleast as far as tree's go. He knew Uriel was right, but at the same time talking about it wouldn't save him now would it? He'd examine the effects afterwards, for now finding Nikolai was important to him. " Not at all, here I was just going to let them run off." He murmured sarcastically, not entirely unsure the man would get it. He didn't seem to be in good humor.

Something on the ground caught his eyes, not entirely destroyed by the moments of fighting. Heavy footprints, made by a man obviously not used to treading lightly. The earth elemental crouched to get a better look, leaning forward on his hands, looking for another footprint or perhaps a dropped object. If this didn't work, he'd have to come up with something else.

It was then that Damion heard the shuffling from the Tavern, head snapping in that direction before he began to move off that way, keeping low to blend in with the foliage. For his size, he was remarkably quiet.  

[Maximos]

Damion's words, it seemed, were the campfire that ended the blizzard. Uriel, Maximos, did what might previously seem impossible, and cracked a grin.

Yes, of course. Worms in the earth, its sort of poetic.

And Damion was off. It appeared the Reaper could afford to lighten up if Damion was no longer business. Tracks were difficult to find because of how many tracks there infact were. Nikolai had walked through the crowd, and then the crowd advanced on Damion and Maximos eliminating most footprints.

However, there was that sound by the Tavern.

The closer Damion got, the more the sound appeared less like noise and more as if it had structure and form. Beat and rhythm, it was a voice. A voice muffled by a wooden door that was shaking and rocking on hinges that seemed ready to tear free from the wood. The voice, was clearly angry. Frustrated, and the rattling unopened door knob spoke of rather humorous technical difficulties.

Maximos, however, was not laughing. He reached a hand out to Damion's location and said.

Mr. Damion...I dont think getting any closer would be a goo--

And there was a loud frustrated shout and an explosion of sorts wood splintered out in all directions, and loud bellowing voice echoed from the shower of wood chips.

Теперь я ем вас маленький мальчик курьера!

What could only be described as a creature stepped forward from the wreckage of a wall. It was humanoid for the most part, very large nearly eight feet tall and very obese. Fat covered every limb, and there were in total 6 limbs. Two arms, and what appeared to be randomly placed arms along its back. Its two main limbs held butchers knives. The others seemed to randomly open and close. Its face was something like the human equivalent of a Pug. Only a line ran down from its bottom lip, across his chin and vanished into a white T shirt stretched far beyond whatever size it was meant to be, and beneath the red, yellow, green, and brown stained apron which covered its front like a bib might cover a whale. Its every foot step shook the ground like thunder, and it rushed eagerly through a whole, that once was a doorway. But clearly, something that size could not fit through a door.

And then suddenly it stopped, looking confused.

Маленький носильщик мелких грузов?
Mr. Damion, I believe our friend here has business with you...


If its multi-limbed form did not give Damion a hint, perhaps the tone of its voice would as it moved from shouting to a normal speaking voice, as it sized up Maximos, who said.

Ваш не носильщик мелких грузов.
Definitely not.
Вы смотрите как Сисси, как он.
Pardon?
Вы говорите как Сисси слишком! Возможно если я ем вас, то, я стану Сисси слишком!
That's quite rude, пухло.

And the Chef, laughed a belly laugh. Considering the size of its belly, this was quite a laugh. Followed a calmly spoken.

Я съем вас так или иначе.

At which point it swung. Both arms, fast and hard, the other 4 limbs snapped forward like tendrils swinging wildly at Maximos who did all he could to duck and dodge and make swings at each limb which missed by mere centimeters. It was a large creature and a fast creature...and he certainly could not dodge it forever.

Damnit Damion, must you make friends with all the locals!?  

[Eternal Dirge]

" Oh shut up."
He said, struggling hard not to laugh. This was a serious situation! Even in the face of possible death, and in this case literal death, Damion found it hard to be serious. He did stop to wait for his friend however, looking at the building intently and hitting the dirt admirably fast as the door erupted in a cacaphony of noise and splintering wood. " Son of a WHORE! You are the ugliest motha ******** I have ever seen!"

The pot calling the kettle black.

But hey, the b*****d had suprised Damion quite abit, and while his appearance was monstrous, he hid his revulsion well. Probably cause he couldn't move his face.

Mr. Damion, I believe our friend here has business with you...

" Would you stop calling me mis.....wait a second you can understand him?" Damion blinked, looking from one to the other and back again. " What's he sayin'?" Maximos's responses gave Damion little clue, other than that maybe some kind of offer had been made and turned down. And then it was swinging.

Damnit Damion, must you make friends with all the locals!?

" Of course, I'm an impressionable guy. I mean look at me." The earth elemental replied, ducking down again to avoid getting hit himself before reaching into the earth, pulling on what looked like a handle, although it was stretching far more than it should have. Not like melting wax, but more like a very thin peice of steel. It soon reached its' limit, the head of the weapon, an axe, erupting forth from the ground to streak out, the air whistling with its' passage. Damion had aimed to lop off one of the main arms, the ones most people had. Even though his face couldn't change, he looked suprised none the less.  

[Maximos]

Damion's axe flew with swiftness force and skill, and most definitely struck the meaty resistance of flesh, which was followed by the sudden give of a severed limb. Unfortunately, it was not the flesh he was aiming for. Damion had buried his axe in an arm, but not the arm he was aiming for.

He would notice, as the limb fell to the floor, like an empty paper sack made of flesh, that something was wrong. The arms, all of them, were thick and full, but this arm was hollow, it was quite honestly a skin glove laying on the ground with a few maggots crawling out from inside it. Damion had no missed his swing, this limb had placed itself in the way. And at the moment of impact it had to be that it was tougher than empty skin or it would never have stopped the axe and yet...the facts remained.

What?! What do you mean? You cant understand him?

What Damion might notice however was that Maximos had room to speak, because the monstrosities large fatty head, had turned to face the earth elemental. Its skin sheened in the moonlight making it appear either sweaty, or oily, but all together disgusting. There was a whole in its side, where the arm Damion severed once went, but now something else was rising out of it.

A tendril of sorts, long and fat, covered in concentric rings which ran down down its pinkish tan body, slithered from the opening in the mans side. A gash was visible in its side that was quickly repairing. Now it would suddenly make sense...the way the other arms were able to stretch forward at Maximos with no regard for bone or muscle structure...

Ahh, мой маленький носильщик мелких грузов…

The Chef said with some level of fondness. There was a shlump, and a sound like a log hitting soil. And the Chef's words were cut off with a sickeningly twisted screamed. His voice seemed to echo as if shouted from a thousand mouths and he recoiled a step back.

Because behind and to his side, Maximos had take advantage of his interest in Damion, to swing his scythe and remove a rather large main arm. And now, was shouting forward to Damion.

Damion! Together! Hit him with something large and painful!

Maximos was running around the creature toward Damion, his free hand reached low, his fingertips seemed to spill out black, from the shadows between Damion the image of a large sword tip began to form. With any luck, Damion would be able to prepare something similar which the Chef recoiled. Its good arm holding the stub of its bad arm, gushing worms, and maggots of all sorts as well as a sort of reddish brown fluid.

NOW!  

[Eternal Dirge]

" Oh that is disgusting....." He grumbled, staring at the severed limb with some disgust. He had never actually seen a severed limb before, and had honestly expected more....blood? Maybe some screaming? But in this he was sadly disappointed, mearly a flop and....Hollow.

" Hell no! I've been confused since I got here!" Damion shot at Maximos, pulling the axe infront of him in a defensive position as the Chef's attention turned towards him. As the tentacle extended, Damion recognized it as something more suited for deep sea life, and knew to keep away from those little sucker things.

" What'd it say Maxi?" He started, before the screaming started. " OH FOR YOU IT SCREAMS!"

But he took the que, dropping the axe head down in a low circle, the head passing through the ground to come out the other side behind Damion. As a silouette, he looked like a woodcutter, arms high over his head, axe just getting ready to drop. Up close it looked like he was smiling.

SWISH! Down came the axe.  

[Maximos]

Max snapped his fingers, and the jet black sword soundlessly seared the air before impaling the Chef monster vertically, jabbing into its rather enormous gut several feet without ever exiting its back. Then with a thud and wet sound of packed meat, the axe found the Chef's face. Right in its mouth, and not in the proper direction either. The axe was jutting from the line which was traced from the Chef's bottom jaw straight down its body. The Chef was stumbling backwards, its small feet staggering to keep its weight up.

Also it was stuck. But this wasnt a problem. Max was approaching, and while Damion's midsection was wide open, Reaper had is scythe arched back and held in a fashion similar to a baseball player preparing to swing the bat. And not at the Chef.

The look on Maximos' face was outright frustration. Not yet a rage, not yet truly ripened into anger. Yet still, a dark pale hooded figure wielding a scythe was everything most living beings had come to associate with the end of their lives.

In a lightening quick motion, just before he swung, Maximos ducked low, his free hand scraped the ground scooping up a ball of dirt in his fingers before his scythe whipped forward in a wide arc, slicing the moonlight like water and leaving a silver trail in its wake. Damion, was likely, about to be struck. Be it in the defending arms, or chest, it was regardless.

If contact was made the impact might be the only thing, save for Damion releasing his weapon, that kept him from being towed forward with the Chef. Either way, Maximos was close and speaking in his coldest and most threatening voice yet. He looked Damion dead in the eyes, his white right eye flaring up like a torch, bright with all the intensity of a floodlight. It almost looked like as if he was glaring through him.

Language, is the easiest of mans secrets. The first thing you learned. There isnt a language on this world you dont speak! Now stop playing around before I put you in THIS!

He held up the clump of dirt in his hand as one might hold up a weapon. Inside, squirming in his grasp was a common everyday earthworm, wriggling in an effort to be free.

The Chef was working its way to its feet. It said.

Вы докучаете мне… теперь я cannot play...you leave me no choice...

And all of a sudden, it was speaking a more common tongue. What was more, was that seconds after that translation came, somewhere in the back of his mind, Damion's memories were edited so that it was as if common was all the people of this village had ever spoken.

The Chef rose. Damion's axe suddenly came loose, if he was holding it was free to his grasp. If he was not, it fell dead to the ground. The Chef's face was split...and then it continued to split. It tore right down the chin, leaving fleshy gray membrane to stretch across the growing divide. It tore down the neck, and the thick dark line, bleeding yellow mucus vanished down the Chef's throat.

The creature leaned forward, one arm and a writhing stub arched across its chest. It growled fiercely and from the depths of its belly came a quiver, its heavy stained T-shirt could be seen stretching. Its apron strings were being pulled apart. And then with a roar that rumbled the ground like an earthquake both of its arms whipped out in either directions and massive stomach seemed to explode. Bile, mucus, blood and a few worms scattered in all directions like an abysmally disgusting rain. Where once there was a fat man, there was a creature eleven feet tall, there was now the top half of a head and below it, tightly filling the entire expanse that was a stomach all the way to the groin was a large gaping maw. It was a giant mouth with five arms, and two legs, and half a head, a mouth which reached back several feet, and was filled with gnashing rows of concentric sharp-like pointed teeth.

I'LL EAT YOU BOTH!

The voice bellowed from somewhere in the mess of teeth and slime. The Chef Mouth jabbed its stub forward and there was an sudden burst of worms before a single massive tendril shot forward, and 4 glove like hands scattered in all directions. A worm-like body, like the one Damion freed, like the 6 now squirming and slithering the monsters back, but thick like a tree trunk smacked the sandy floor inches in front of Damion and Maximos, spraying up dirt and digging a trench in the soil.

And then, as Maximos pulled his scythe away, the creature charged. Its feet pounding like war drums, its mouth convulsing, gnashing the air. It was hungry, and from right to left, from Damion to Maximos, it swung its massive worm arm, aiming to scoop up both men in a hungry grasp.  

[Eternal Dirge]

Damion grunted at the sudden double impact, once for the impact of stone on...well flesh and then again as whatever Maximos's scythe was made of impacted his chest, just below the ribs. Such a huge weapon would inevitably knock him back alittle, and he let go of the axe in a hurry. " Would you rather I tear his mind apart? Some things can't be rushed!" The thing inside of Damion snarled back, one hand rubbing at what would likely be a bruise later.

He moved forward alittle, lifting a clawed finger and opening his mouth as if to speak again, before the Chef preempted him with

Вы докучаете мне… теперь я cannot play...you leave me no choice...

" What?" Exasperation colored Damion's speech, his odd head turning to face the chef and wait.....but not for the explosion of gore that followed, both hands crossing to cover his face and guard his teeth. When ones mouth is always open, it's important to guard that space. While the Chef spoke more words, Damion was far to busy trying to look disgusted and shaking mucus and blood from his hands and arms.

" It never ends!" On normal Circumstances, this could be construed as a serious statement, but coming from Damion's mouth, it was simply comedy.

I'LL EAT YOU BOTH!

And then it was swinging, throwing dirt and other matter into the air with a slam of tendrils, matching it with a swing of it's other limb, hoping to pull them in.

Now, Damion was never an obscenely fast man, never prone to flips or spins unless it was in the process of hitting someone, and thus his next action would be somewhat suprising as he launched himself straight up and over the swinging limb, heavy toe claws catching the back end of the worm limb and carving out wicked gouges as it moved along. He landed feet first, right hand on his hip while his left simply hung at his side.

" You may try."  

[Maximos]

" Would you rather I tear his mind apart? Some things can't be rushed!"

The thing inside of Damion snarled back, one hand rubbing at what would likely be a bruise later. Maximos only response was, to once again, very threatening present the worm. Clearly, this was a truly fear-inspiring worm.

In the moments that followed, disgust was an emotion both men would feel in spades. Though Maximos, just as smothered in rancid flesh as Damion was trying his best not to show his disgust. Reaper etiquette at its finest. The motions he made to removed any chunks large enough were easily dismissible.

" It never ends!"

Damion, said, and Maximos would have been more than happy to accept this as simple comedy if it werent for the fact he felt exactly the same way.

Indeed...

He said, coldly. If this jacket were not made of darkness itself, he imagined it would likely be faded to white by now with how many times and how furiously it had to be washed.

I'LL EAT YOU BOTH!

And then it was swinging, throwing dirt and other matter into the air with a slam of tendrils, matching it with a swing of it's other limb, hoping to pull them in. And there was something else...

...Smell. Like month old meat, just left on the counter. Like a pile of corpses baking in the sun. Like a offline refrigerator, left closed, outside, for several weeks and then opened. The gaping maw of the Chef put off such an amazingly intense aroma, that to anyone of any level of supernatural olfactory sensory perception, its smell was an attack in and off itself. It could have knock a bloodhound unconscious flat out, and likely killed a bear. It was a poison in and of itself.

Damion gracefully and skillfully dodged the whiplashing worm of a limb. His claw pierced its hide, giving him the tactile experience of running fingers through stale rubbery jello before he exited the arm. The Chef made no sounds. Instead, its other larger muscular humanoid arm, still holding a butchers knife which seemed as if it was sized for chopping down elephants, swung...it was a fast swing, and a strong one, meant to cleave the earth elemental in two.

Max placed his scythe on the ground in an L and jumped, the tendril smacked the blunt crook of the scythe and Maximos pulled, like a lever, avoiding the blade for the moment. He landed two nimble feet on the creatures fat wormy tentacle and began running up it. Black footprints were left in his wake, a hint that some sort of magic was being employed.  

[Eternal Dirge]

" s**t!" Damion hit the ground and rolled, nearly gagging on the strong stench of blood. He was not a carrion creature, thus the smell of decaying flesh was nothing to him. The blood though...well that was another story. Saliva dripped from his fangs as he came up in a low crouch, now much closer than he had anticipated to the giant fanged mouth, the muscular arm with the butcher knife coming down at him fast and hard.

Not much to do really, he couldn't stop something like that himself, and there wasn't enough time to move away completely, so he stepped in alittle, letting the meaty arm come down on his already dislocated shoulder with a thud, dropping him to the ground hard.

His body bounced once and then lay still, hands splayed out wide as he lay there. To anyone with eyes, it looked like Damion was unconcious, or worse. Although....Maximos could tell better than anyone probably.  

[Maximos]

If only...

If only Maximos had actually seen it happen.

Hungry grabbing arms were reaching for the Reaper as he charged up the massive tendril, his scythe sliced the air silently and would have easily been able to dispatch any number of arms if they did not weave and dodge so nimbly.

Regardless, limbs were not Maximos' target. Out of his peripheral he noted a meaty appendage slam downwards, and Damion's force strike the ground and bounce, but he was helpless to assist. There was another, larger target which as his foot found purchase the lumbering beasts shoulder, came into range.

Its head.

Maximos swung what was closely related to a golf swing. There was a lean back, and quick and deadly arching pass, and then a pale white ball of a head evening sliding off of shoulders and rolling off into the woods.

Presumably it was dead, and the Reaper was turning to look at Damion.

That was when the laughter began, quaking and vicious as only a mouth the size of an entire person can perform. And Maximos, all together too late, realized his mistake. Because worms dont have "heads". No eyes, or ears, or noses. Just a mouth, and a long, long stomach. And in the moment he realized it, he was seized up by 5 smaller tentacles, grabbing his legs first, then his midsection as the two held his scythe arm, while Maximos' other arm thrashed free. The wormy appendages held Maximos away from the main body. An impossibly sharp weapon was useless if you cant properly swing it.

Damnit Damion, get up!  

[Eternal Dirge]

Damnit Damion, get up!

Atleast his plan had worked.

Maximos had effectively gotten the things attention, as Damion had hoped he would, and with his face down in the dirt it allowed the earth elemental to do something more. As he came up from the ground his face was abit more covered, hard stone covering his mouth and nose to protect it from the stench and undoubtedly venomous breath this creature had. At also left him with a clear head.

But now to business.

Damion got up rather fast, his left arm trailing slightly as he moved towards his foe, a shaftlike hunk of stone gripped in his hand trailing across the dirt as he first stepped, then spun stepped, ripping that giant hunk of stone from the ground to show the world what it was. It resisted his pull, the stone weapon trailing for amoment before whipping free to come down directly at the top of the creatures body, where the head had been.

You see Damion knew afew things about worms.

They could regenerate when cut in half and produce two smaller worms, and they didn't want that. But a worm cut in half was a dying worm. He hadn't been able to think like that when the stench of blood had been overpowering his thoughts, driving him to rip and tear and likely die, but with the stone mask cutting off his air Damion was fine, until he needed to breath.  

[Maximos]

The gaping maw, with legs and arms, was opened up like a banana.

Two flaps of teeth and soft tissue flapped around wildly as it strained to actually work its mouth. Gurgled and distorted sounds of wretched pain and agony spewed out from somewhere within that deep dark toothy whole.

In the commotion, a Reaper was tossed from backwards, behind it the Chef. The sound of soil being tousled and kicked up echoed past the wide beast as it thrashed and swung with reckless abandon.

Damion had cut it, and he had cut it deep and hard. But damn if it wasnt resilient. Weakened and mutilated but alive. Alive and quickly overcoming the overwhelming pain it should have been feeling.

If the body can still function, the creature will still function, its complete destruction or nothing. No mercy. No quarter.

And now, it was running. There wasnt too long of a distance to cross. And once it did cross said distance, the mass of blood and teeth had only one purpose in mind.

Fall. With its limbs stretched out in all directions to provide maximum coverage and minimal chance for freedom, it was going to reach Damion and fall on him. If it couldnt bring him to its mouth, it would bring its mouth...to him.  

[Eternal Dirge]

Damion was rather proud, he had done something productive, but now the b*****d was coming right at him! His sword swiping to cut free limbs as they flailed about. The earth elemental dropped his mask from his face with one hand and bowed, the ground opening up beneath him with startling rapidity, forming a weird kind of ant mouth into which he fell. On either side of the hole there was now a blade, curved outwards like the blades of a garbage disposal. Damion kept his head bowed as he fell the short distance, his impromptu sword melding back into the sword.

" And Now I say goodnight." As the beast fell upon Damion's safe spot, the stone blades began to rotate, slowly at first but with gathering speed. The ground moaned in protest, but the soft loamy soil provided the perfect grounds on which to rotate and tear. The object of this attack was to rip the flesh of the worm thing apart as it's weight bore it down.