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| The Flesh is a Machine; Indo/Nki/Jessie/Ros | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Tue Aug 31, 2010 3:26 am (1,262 Views) | |
| Dies Irae | Tue Aug 31, 2010 3:26 am Post #1 |
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The searing white light of the lightning bolt brought illumination to the night-covered refugee camp. The large community was still mostly tent-based, but a few more permanent structures had been raised. Presumably for those amongst this camp of some standing, power or influence to afford such a luxury. Doubly so on a rainy night such as this, the heavy canvas tents would like be soaked and permit many a leak on the numerous inhabitants. Night life in this place would normally be vibrant even in this weather with people eager to throw away their money, have a relaxing chat or find some more intimate company for the night. The guards were out in force, even on a miserable night like this, both groups were well-alerted to the rash of kidnappings that had been steadily increasing. The past few days the shift lengths had been extended and the number on the watch had been doubled with plans to triple it should the culprits remain uncaught over the next week. The first day had seemed to scare off the body-snatchers, the next they had returned with a vengeance and took more people than they had before, including some of the watchmen. Signs of struggling had been found alongside evidences of bloodshed, but not a body had been recovered in all that time. Desperation was quietly strangling the upper command, with a need to ensure that they weren't diminished of capability while at the same time needing to grab at straws to rapidly salvage the situation. Rumors started surfacing about of an unofficial bounty of substantial worth should someone happen to come across information leading to, or even capturing, the culprits. The guards themselves were under another unofficial order to longer file anything as a kidnapping. Instead anybody who came up missing were to later have been told that they “left with a merchant caravan this morning”. With their personal belongings stowed away, burned or sold as a scrap and witnesses suggested with a bit of physical encouragement to remain quiet. Of course the watch has everything under control, nothing to really be concerned with. ---- The intricacies of the situation it, as well as the brood it belonged to, were lost on it. It had merely noticed an increase in tension and watchful eyes about the camp. They had been ingrained with the command to only approach at night-time, no longer could they safely lay low during the day to observe and report. Harvesting was to be done to individuals by themselves, and always when the brood outnumbered them two to one. While their secrecy was no longer available, they had not yet blown their cover by carefully retrieving bodyparts left behind and ensuring rapid and silencing blows when they struck. Tonight their instincts were more relaxed, the thunderstorm would aid them considerably with the added noise. Sticking low and to the edges of structures they had hoped to stop an untimely reveal due to a sporadic lightning flash. The brief illuminating strikes exposed a dispersed pack of twenty, gaunt-humanoids. Crawling around on all four limbs that ended with sewn-on hands, the flesh had swelled a bit from the considerable rain water they had been exposed to for sometime now giving them a slightly puffy appearance. The ribcage was largely hollow of the original organs, the room having been threaded with extra muscle fiber to make the whole frame stronger so it could support hefty weight saddled to the top of it. The backs of the creatures all had half a dozen spikes, filled ribs implanted to mimic spines on other creatures these were meant to secure a body in place so the creature could lope off at a fast pace. Three times they had halted their slow progress into the camp when half a squad of guardsmen had come clambering by. While by all rights they were in the clear to go after them, the Handmaidens had learned that weaker, less armed and active meat was all the more sweeter. Particularly if they could make more than one harvest tonight. Some more unusual kills had been made while attempting to hide from them. Two of them had slithered under a tent flap to get out of sight and accidentally roused a pair of sleepers from their slumber. Without hesitation the slime, water-logged hands had clamped and wrapped around the pair of figure's limbs and mouth while simultaneous jabbing their jawless faces at the throats. The ribs that had been wedged into the broken bone where the nose should have been ripped open the windpipe to the point of exposing wet bone to the air. Another such moment was when a hunter had crawled into one of the privies, and had been forced to wait so long while one of the guards used another it had clambered out of the stinking hole, covered in the fresh leavings of the grubby who had used it and ripped open his throat while grappling him down to the ground. A rapid retreat commenced after the brood had determined the guard in the adjacent privy had left with his comrades. Another move was to be made as four of them had surrounded a tent to strike at a pair of individuals, when something they had subconsciously been programmed to worry about happened. A bolt of lightning had shown light on their vile deeds and a nearby refugee let out a screech that was muffled halfway by a clap of thunder. The other half was muffled by a violent and rapid swipe of a clawed hand that ripped out her throat while the other powerful limbs hoisted the gurgling, struggling woman and impaled her on the spikes. Even still she struggled as it started to lope away, fleeing from the rising cries of alarm and panic as people began to notice the rapid, four-legged beasts scuttling away carrying the dead. |
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| Quinn | Fri Sep 3, 2010 1:55 am Post #2 |
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Flash. Light crept into the cracks at the front of her tent. Rain fell in torrents, trying to pierce the thick, waterpooofed tent she was living in. Her brown eyes shifted over to her friend, Nkiruka. The tallow candle sitting in the middle of their tent flickered momentarily as wind swept through yet again. Thunder cracked, a sound with a palpable force contacting her whole body. Jessie automatically pulled her blankets closer. Cold, wet, miserable, but paid. Jessie didn't like being a mercenary, but it paid her bills when she wasn't home. The aasimar picked up another bowstring, slowly drawing her hand down its length to detect water. She repeated this action with the next five strings, before packaging all but one into a waterproof leather case. Jessie strung her bow, knowing soon the guards would come to collect she and Nkiruka for morning watch. The bow would be useless in a matter of moments in the rain, but she was going to keep it beneath her heavy coat. She began buttoning up her coat over bare skin, not wanting to get her tunics soaked. Flash. Screams. Her ears perked up as she rapidly finished buttoning her coat. She jammed her bow into the front of her coat, hefted her mace, and bolted out. No doubt the kidnappers had returned, perhaps even seen. She rushed through mud puddles, splashing muck on herself and those around her. The crowds surged, but Jessie pressed through. In moments she reached the edge of the camp, with a small cluster of other guards. "Out there, Lagan. We seen em', they be some sorta messed up demons." One of them said. His hand extended through the torrent of rain and into the inky blackness. Jessie squinted. She could see a swarm of tracks pressed into the soaked earth. Torches sputtered, water eroded the steep walls around the five-fingered prints. She drew her bow. She flicked an arrow from her quiver, gripping it by the soaked fletching. Jessie nocked the arrow, pulled the string to its extent, and called the wind. It swept around the bow, before centering on the arrow. She released. The sharp snap of her shortbow was replaced by a wet thud. The arrow was transformed into perfect, crystalline ice as it passed by the bow's shaft. It arced into the darkness. No sound was made. "I reckon Ladyboy missed," One of the guards guffawed. "I didn't," Jessie snapped. Jessie followed a deep scrape in the midst of barely-visible tracks. It smelled awful, a black, viscuous fluid present in intermittent pools. It was taking the better part of the day, even if she was moving relatively quickly. Her stomach growled at her, and she peered up into the sky. The sun beamed at her directly overhead. She laid out her jacket on the ground, pulled out a sandwich, then patted on her jacket next to her. "No reason to rush, we've probably been gaining on them all this time." Jessie said, adjusting the bandages wrapping her upper torso. She took a bite from her sandwich, idly wondering if anyone else had bothered to follow their little expedition. [Permission from Nki to use his character.] |
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| Indómemar | Sat Sep 4, 2010 6:09 am Post #3 |
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What good are morals when a man is too cowardly to stand up for them? Indómemar stood in the hateful rain that fell upon the earth in sheets, gritting his teeth in rhythm with the heartbeat of his simmering rage. Hostility boiled at the surface of his usually stoic demeanor; lying to the refugees wouldn't make them any safer. What was Levon so ashamed of that he had to cover up the kidnappings this way? The fat bastard and his cronies were handling the entire predicament with such wantonly corrupt decisions that Indo wished the vilest of deaths upon them all. Yet there he stood, patrolling the streets and telling the refugees the same bold-faced lies that made him wish to slip the tip of his spear between the Captain's greasy ribs. "Go back to your tent, ma'am, you are safe with the guards on duty." Only his guilt could contend with his anger for control of his countenance. Looking down at the peasant woman in front of him, her large eyes pleading with him for the truth… It was unbearable. He opened his mouth, as if to offer an apology, but no words escaped his throat. Defeated by his lack of reassurance, the woman's frame sagged and she turned her gaze away from his face. She left, clutching at her robes in much the same, desperate manner in which fear gripped her heart. A piece of the guardsman died alongside her faith in humanity. He resumed his patrol through the mud-lined rows of tents, walking in the direction opposite that of the woman's path to escape his conscience. Lightning and thunder chased him, protesting his shortcomings. A loud crack of static discharge mocked him. "Coward!" A second clap contributed its own jeer. "Slave!" He quickened his pace, retreating from the sky's taunting to take refuge with the rest of his garrison several lanes down. At least they could not judge him; they shared in his crimes against the oath. Or perhaps it was because they, unlike him, were indoctrinated to believe that so long as they followed orders, they were doing the right thing. His fellow guardsmen had stopped their individual patrols and gathered together unexpectedly; something was happening. From the distance he could not hear them above the gale of the storm and the pelting of rain against his own armor, but he could read their body language clearly. They were poised in a defensive stance, weapons at the ready as they shouted and pointed with urgency. Had they found the kidnappers? He arrived at their collective side within moments, and a flash of lightning revealed pale-white faces stricken dumb with terror. Confused, he slowly cast his eyes down the lane in which they stood. He choked on his breath, overcome with the same terror shared by the entire garrison. A female refugee flailed in the air, throat torn open from ear to ear. Her body lay upon a rack of spikes that lined the back of a hideous, pale being that slowly dragged itself through the thick muck, wary of the guards that had spotted it and separated it from its kin. The creature looked as though it may have once been human, but whatever form it now took was a twisted blasphemy against nature. Naked, its grotesque, death-softened flesh swelled with decay and hung in patchy shreds from the seams of hemmed gashes in its misshapen back. Unable to stomach the intake of any further details, Indo looked around wildly for evidence of more undead, but saw only this one remaining construct. A cold hand gripped his arm and he whirled around, spear ready to smite the construct to death out of dumb, blind fear... but it was only the slimy grip of his Captain, wanting his attention. His heart sank, if it was possible for it to burrow any further into the lining of his guts. He could hear it coming already, and his eyes desperately pleaded for the Captain's mercy. His obvious suffering only fueled Levon's sadistic reassurance in his choice of volunteers. "Follow it!" Levon shouted over the rain and the cries of the other guards. He waved his hands to urge the other guardsmen to fall back. The construct bolted the instant they retreated, and disappeared from sight with its victim. "And don't come back till they're all burned like the rest of Taras!" Trekking through the mud with only a lantern and the occasional lightning bolt to guide him through the night, Indo had followed the deep tracks left behind by the loping body-snatcher. Since sunrise, it had become apparent to them that he was not the only one following his prey, but he was optimistically certain that it wasn't another pair of body-snatchers. The small, booted foot tracks indicated that they were trailing behind two humanoid women. And from the look of the horizon, they had come to a stop not too far ahead of where Indo now stood. He wanted to catch up to them and discover what they knew, and why they were also tracking the body-takers. When he finally came within clear sight of them, his blood pressure only rose further. The women were fortunate enough to have the time to stop and eat, but he himself had not even a drop of water to keep himself alive. But his annoyance was with Levon, not these two. It faded in an instant, melting into exhaustion. He approached them as openly as possible, but his position was obscured by foliage. Purposefully stepping on twigs and clanging his armor, he stepped into the clearing with his hands raised in surrender as best as he could. He pointed the spear in his right hand uselessly to the side, and his left hand extended more outward than up to show that he concealed no weapon behind his shield. He walked slowly forward, trying to catch the eye of the woman closest to him so that he could speak with them without startling them. Indo's Voice Edits Made
Edited by Indómemar, Fri Sep 10, 2010 4:32 am.
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| Nkiruka | Sat Sep 4, 2010 11:05 pm Post #4 |
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Nkiruka's employment with the Red Moon Military Contractors was terminated abruptly. By cutting off a steady source of income, she no longer had a roof under her head, frequent meals or a financially effective means to travel. After living out of her pack for three weeks it was becoming increasingly apparent to Nki that her rather eccentric personality made it very difficult to get any sort of solo job. Back in the company days, more charismatic figures could take care of dealing with clients while Nkiruka simply worked the jobs. Now people would refuse even the most menial help just because they considered her rude or sketchy. She was never good with public relations. A familiar face saved the day. Jessie Lagan, a good friend of hers, was away from the Deep Cities and also looking for work. The gender-confused woman explained that a refugee camp in nearby Taras was having some difficulties with kidnappers and wanted extra help with protection. Better than nothing, at least. She followed her. Nki slept soundly through the storm. Only when Jessie woke her did she actually notice the torrential rain. Overtired and uncomfortable, the mercenary sluggishly got her things together and made her way out of the tent. She arrived at the crowd of guardsmen a full minute after Jessie's prompt response. They tracked the creature all through the night. Nkiruka said very little to her gender-bending friend in that time, preferring instead to keep moving through the darkness. Movement created the body heat necessary to keep this little excursion from being unbearably miserable. The thought of payment boosted morale. A few hours later the sun finally came up; and after that, midday. They hadn't really stopped at all in that time, yet the monstrosity was nowhere to be found. Jessie called a break. Nkiruka slumped uselessly onto her jacket and tore off a chunk of sandwich. "Let's get this over with," she growled, her mouth full. Nki picked up a stick nearby and started scraping off the mud from her boots, then stole Jessie's waterskin and drunk deep. A sudden rustling in the brush made her tense up, her free hand reaching for one of her knives. Two men, just as haggard as them, emerged. Nkiruka pushed herself to her feet, tossed the waterskin onto Jessie's lap and tore both fighting knives from their sheathes. Her wings were half-unfurled. The mercenary's stare was tired, but she stood her ground. "What the hell do you people want?" Edited by Nkiruka, Sun Sep 5, 2010 12:15 am.
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| Rosaline | Fri Sep 10, 2010 4:37 am Post #5 |
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The uncomfortable feeling of something watching her was not as terrible as the sight that would not leave her gaze. The forest was bleeding. Even as she stood on foreign soil, a strange visitor to these trees as much as any traveler, she could hear the screams. The trees, still standing, bore deep wounds of claws that Rosaline had never before seen. These paled in comparison to others that bled thick sap from gaping holes, some that may have been large enough to be plugged only by a sizeable animal or a human. Rosaline had only stopped weeping at the atrocities that surrounded her an hour ago. She feared that she may have run out of tears after two long days. Her vision now sadly deadened to the constant harassment of destruction, what hurt her most was the silence. She longed to hear the song of a bird or the call of a doe. The forest was so lonely and empty, and it reminded her that she was alone far too often. Occasionally she heard the call of an animal in the distance, but never once had she successfully tracked down its owner, even when it sounded nearby. Maybe she had been imaging them. She found modest remedy to her illness in this strange forest, but she found no companionship. The foreign spirit that resided inside of her rattled and it thirsted to return to the distant, misted forest that was now her prison and her home. The ethereal shackles that bound her there were burdening and made her feet heavy as she tried to pull against them. Her resolve now hardened by days of outrage, she pushed deeper into the destruction. Each new surprise fueled the fire that kept her moving. Surprisingly, she began to forget her own feet as the all-too-familiar aches and pains seemed to slough off like dry mud. The tickle at the back of her throat, the reminder of her boon and curse, also vanished. Her soul was basking in a curious sense of peace, and Rosaline felt truly relieved for the first time in more than a year. She smiled to herself, wondering if her chains were weakening after all this time. Unseen and silent, a single, ghostly figure took shape against the bark of an ancient tree. The squirrel, one eye hollow and a front paw severed, looked upon Rosaline with an eternal sense of knowing and watched her with hope. This forest’s spirit, decrepit and sickly from the plague that lived within it, had done all it could to provide strength to its only trusted warrior. With its last card dealt the spirit faded from view, if only to rest quietly among the highest boughs to await its fate. It would not watch what would unfold, and it would not meet the stranger who now bore the remainder of its power. It simply waited and did what little it could to soothe the pain that shook the landscape. Noise! Precious noise! But it did not belong to any creature of these woods. It was language, human, and it was close. Rosaline’s eyes pulled down into a sliver as her assumptions ran wild. Her logic screamed at her that no man could create this kind of havoc, but her hatred burned like bonfire coals. Even as she traveled the lands, often forced into civilization or to small bands of humans, she could never find herself truly liking any person. The betrayal she felt was so sharp and so embedded into her gut that she knew she would never find forgiveness for them. So, with the pangs in her stomach more real to her than her logic, she chose to approach and find out their guilt for herself. The stew of fear and anger that boiled inside of her manifested on her skin. The flower which she kept behind her ear sprouted vines which crawled down her body. The growth thickened and was made full by large leaves that held a curious sheen on their surface. The flower itself was nourished and grew more vibrant and large, seductive and captivating while simultaneously a loud accent to the dark green foliage. Even Rosaline’s skin became tinged by the chlorophyll which ran to the surface like children down the beach to waiting sea. Small green feathers, down feathers as light and soft as a baby’s hair, covered portions of her temples and ran down her cheeks. They were a matching frame to Rosaline’s eyes, which had become a deeper moss green. So too her hair gained a new, forested shade that blended seamlessly with the feathers and vines that now enveloped her. As Rosaline took a sure step through the bushes she gazed upon three travelers. Her foreign appearance, although surely strange, was mystically attractive and graceful. She stood before the two women and lone man in silence, looking perhaps more like a creature from myth or legend than a hurt and frightened girl. Still, her human face continued to betray her emotions. She had stopped quickly when her eyes caught the glint of metal weapons. She froze while and old fear raced up her spine like electricity. Her lips failed to part for a brief moment while she struggled with her own terror. “What have you done here?” Rosaline’s voice finally slipped past her tight jaw. The accusation poured fuel on the smoldering coals of anger that had led her there. “What atrocities have you brought to these lands?” At that moment she suddenly felt the urge to take flight and be done with this place and her fear. Her birdlike gaze, accented by the green feathers and her hair veiled by vines, searched the travelers for information. These travelers did not smell like sap or blood, they could not have been the assailants of these woods, but still she stood and waited. Her brown cloak had snagged on a branch and was pulled back to display well-fitted travelers clothes. Even behind the growing vines the dirt was visible in large patches, especially across her lower legs. Edited by Rosaline, Sat Sep 11, 2010 6:48 pm.
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| Quinn | Sat Sep 11, 2010 4:33 pm Post #6 |
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Jessie ate quietly, knowing they had more than enough time. The forest was quiet, but she expected as much. This wasn't the first time she'd wandered into a situation like this. Although, other times she had her armor on, and her horse. Bare skin wasn't safe like a layer of steel was, and this realization brought her on edge. She began to eat with one hand, her hand firmly on her bow. All remained quiet. Crack. Jessie jumped to her feet, nocked an arrow, and aimed towards the offending noise. A guardsmen of Taras walked out of the brush, insignias of the city about his person. Jessie immediately calmed down, and lowered her bow to his knees. "Guardsman. I am Sir Lagan of Kellen, I was working as a guard of your encampment on the edge of the city." Jessie explained, smiling. She took the moment to observe his person. He was haggard, he'd clearly just rushed through the night following the tracks without supplies. Jessie stepped back and traded her weapons for the goatskin and the sandwich. "Eat, drink. We are getting close to their home, I can't imagine they travel much farther to attack the refuge camp." Jessie continued, handing the food and drink to him. She knelt down and picked up her bow, kneeling before him. "You will have to excuse Nkiruka's curtness, she is understandably on edge." Jessie finished. Jessie supposed the suggestion that Nkiruka was being curt was a half truth, Nkiruka had actually restrained herself from the full use of her vocabulary, but managed to be remarkably polite by Nki's standards. The aasimar gave a weak smile. Hopefully the man would join, but she wasn't going to pressure him. He may have just gotten lost, or chased after the creatures in a rage without thinking. It was no concern to Jessie what he did, albeit an extra soldier could help significantly. It would be nice to have a fourth, or an army, but a Lagan never backed down from a fight between good and evil. Then intruding upon them was a creature who held herself as though she was a great beauty, delicate and fair. Useless. She spoke, but her words were as useless as she appeared to be. The creature was clearly not a foe, their foes were abominations of sewn skin. But it was an obvious imbecile. "Begone, creature of the woods. If you believe us, a group of humans standing in the midst of tracks of beasts, have caused all this destruction then you are a fool. We have no ax, we have no large bladed weapon even. In fact, you should be more certain of the identity of these creatures than us, they have been passing through these woods for days, along this path." Jessie growled. She finished her statement off with some imaginative application of dwarven curses. Edited by Quinn, Sat Sep 11, 2010 4:36 pm.
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| Nkiruka | Sat Sep 11, 2010 5:56 pm Post #7 |
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The man's body language and Taras Guard insignias indicated he wasn't a threat. After looking him over, Nkiruka lowered her weapons, paused, and finally sheathed them. Jessie had already stepped forward to offer food and water to the obviously exhausted person. "Been going s'long as we has, I see," she rumbled, more of an observation than a question. Ignorant to manners, the mercenary didn't bother to introduce herself. "We were about ready to keep going. You can follow us while you eat. Don't lag behind." As she was turning to face the direction they had planned to continue, a new voice added its own view on the situation. After a short delay, Nki taking the time to exhale sharply in mild agitation, she moved her gaze to the source of the comments. The woman was exotically beautiful, almost alien in appearance, yet still somehow pleasant to the eye -- clearly one who lived in or around these parts, based on what she adorned herself with. She was under the impression that they as a group had somehow caused the destruction. The group had been walking virtually nonstop through the woods all night in the pouring rain, brambles and muck. They were freezing and sore. They hadn't slept. All Nki wanted at this point was to get her payment and go sleep somewhere warm. Now, a possibly magical emissary from the forest was berating them. Nkiruka stood listless, staring, as the no doubt on-edge Jessie reacted and called the newcomer a fool. A silence. She regarded the guardsman. "Let's go." Nkiruka took up point down the trail, so she couldn't see the outcome of the argument or whether the woodland girl chose to follow them or not. "You lived in Taras your whole life, Guard-Boy?" the woman called back. "Good city before it was burned to the ground, yeah? My family used to go there for business trips, but I never saw it in its prime." Edited by Nkiruka, Sat Sep 11, 2010 6:20 pm.
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| Indómemar | Mon Sep 13, 2010 11:20 pm Post #8 |
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The woman with wings was the first to take notice of him, and did so aggressively. It briefly occurred to him that he would hate to be her enemy instead of a mere guardsman who had come for information. "Pardon, madam, I mean you no harm," he said to her disarmingly, an expression of mild surprise on his face. He politely nodded his head as he introduced himself, affording them a pleasant demeanor. "I am Indómemar, soldier of Taras and guardsman of its refugee encampment." His gaze briefly strayed from the eyes of the woman in front of him to those of the other standing behind her. He felt his expression involuntarily soften at the sight of her, and tried not to let his attention linger long upon the exquisite golden hair that graced her bare shoulders before returning. "It seems that we are tracking the same unholy quarry," he explained in response to her question. The woman lowered her guard, allowing him to relax while the second woman offered him food and introduced herself. He accepted gratefully, an eyebrow rising when she called herself "sir." A peculiar title for a woman, but perhaps she was possessed of military discipline that referred to all of its officers that way. "Thank you, Sir Lagan," he said appreciatively, using her proper title as his own military discipline told him he should when addressing a superior. He took a bite of the sandwich as he watched her gather her belongings, wondering what her first name was, and if she always let so much of her skin show. It was a pity they were already breaking camp, he could use a rest and found himself wanting to learn more about his two companions. His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of a third woman, and his gaze sharply snapped away from Sir Lagan's bindings and toward the newcomer. He wasn't sure what the exotically clad girl had meant about their doings, and donned an embarrassed expression when Sir Lagan chided her. The poor, naïve maiden of the woods must be accustomed to outsiders bringing trouble to her home, but he didn't feel that she deserved what she got from the others. "Sorry, madam," he said to her with a genuinely sympathetic look, but he too turned to follow Nkiruka before she got too far ahead of him. When he caught up to her, she attempted to make small talk with him, which he appreciated. "Yes ma'am, born and raised. Seldom do I leave Taras, even after its downfall. It's not much to look at anymore, but it is home and it needs its able-bodied soldiers to continue looking after it." He paused to check on Sir Lagan and see if the maiden of the woods had followed. "And yourself? From where do you hail?" He had never encountered a culture quite like hers, with the tattoos and the animal claw piercing in her nose. He wasn't quite sure he would adapt well to whatever environment she grew up in; the city had tamed him all too well with its laws and high society. |
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| Dies Irae | Sun Sep 19, 2010 2:56 am Post #9 |
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The quick back-and-forth motions of Indómemar gave his sharp-eyed glances just a gleam of the trinket, his trained attention centered on the part of the forest that didn't belong. While lacking the outdoors experience of the others, he knew enough that one couldn't find valuable metal like that lying around at random. Bending down and brushing off the sickly moss that had started enveloping it, exposed a locket that had been in the possession of a Lady Tyriel. A minor title-holder who had been one of the more prominent residents of the refugee camp. One of the individuals who were for the retaking and resettlement of their city, her voice had been silenced after a mysterious vanishing amid the news of a love-triangle. That had been several years ago, and now it seemed she hadn't necessarily run off to pursue a relationship with a woodcutter and had instead fallen victim to the abominations that had only recently come to their attention. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The woods, as Rosaline had found, gave off the impression of being full of life. Tracks could be found, markings seen and their calls heard amongst the trees. For all the traveling that had been done, not a single living (or otherwise) thing had been spotted. The further they penetrated into the forest, the more they could see the effects of the cancerous infestation that lay within it. Scores of trees had been torn at or ripped out completely, others had clearly been gutted and occupied by something at some point. Even the normally green vegetation had taken on brown and yellow hues while broken leaves and twigs leaked a foul smelling pus-like sap. Now they were nearing the heart of the Hive's territory, although it was blocked from view by pestilent trees, the main entrance to the warren was fairly nearby. Consisting of a small knoll coated with the dried, brown-black husks of long-dead underbrush had a gaping-maw of a tunnel hole. A corpse-rot like smell perpetually wafted out of the dark tunnel, with thin strings of a purple-grey organic matter. The simple re-animated flesh was wired into the Hive itself and would register motion made on them, things like footsteps in particular. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The wind had shifted directions to put them downwind of the overwhelming stench wafting from a marshy field. The rotted vegetation had seemingly died in large clumps all about the large area, and for such a staggering smell there were no insects to be seen. The growing amount of things in the forest that didn't add up prompted Nkiruka to edge a little closer, nudging one of the decomposing piles to see if it were the source of the stink. The plants fell away in a wet mass, uncovering the outermost edge of what the Huntsman had taken to call “the Larder”. The head of the doe that had been revealed was severed from the original body, milky eyes and matted fur gave Nkiruka a vague idea that it had been dead for a few days. Without any maggots or flies, it was harder to place an exact date on it. Underneath the doe's head the faint outlines of other dead animals could be seen. The field was full of them, only a rare few as fresh as the doe with the majority being rot-infested corpses still waiting absent carrion-feeders. The vast majority could found to be missing a body part or two, and though it wouldn't be clear at first, not a single one of the missing parts would have been found in the Larder. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ They were in -his- territory, disturbing the spoor he had threaded about -his- domain. He alone out of Hydra's heads had been given free roam from the Hive, at the cost of having to maintain a thinly veiled illusion of everything being right in the forest as well as safety for the Hive. If intruders persisted and appeared to be making for their home, then he was supposed to halt them and slaughter them with his personal retainer of Hand Maidens. Such a thing, in an uncharacteristic move, had been stopped by the ever-present consciousness of Hydra. The Hunstman had been a moment away from loosing his hounds and hawks on them when the all-too-familiar burning sensation inflamed his several skulls as he felt control arrested from his extensively modified frame. The directives were as much a feeling down to his very marrow as much as a loud, echoing voice that he alone could hear. It was simple, the Huntsman was to allow the interlopers to penetrate as deep into the forest as they felt like, until he was convinced they meant to go after the Hive. At that point he was clear to make their war known to them and do as pleased. The lithe, spiked Hand Maiden's frames were still ragged from last night's exhaustive retreat from the Refugee Camp, but despite such problems they still ceaselessly paced about, carving up the dirt, trees, each other. Anything to slack the bloodlust they could feel through the magical synaptic network they were all connected to. Rising up on his vast bulk, the Huntsman was precariously gripping a few tree trunks with “hands” that consisted of a half-dozen arms each to support its weight. Despite having several different sets of animal legs, as well as more unnatural sturdy ones, only four black bear paws touched the earth. The limbs had been amputated where they connected with the animal torso and sewn onto a human ribcage. A giant eagle's head craned back, the brown-iris eyes observed the capering Hand Maidens with relish. In a drawn out motion, the Huntsman's eagle head gave out a screech, the call to the hunt. The pack of hounds took off, their vocal silence only capable through lacking any lungs or vocal boxes. This they made up in spades by moving at a pace similar to last night's, ignoring the loud thumping made by the discarding of stealth. Amongst the trees were macabre nests, made out of the skeletons and furs of numerous large animals. Nestled amongst these crude-structures were humanoid-figures, creatures that had extensively lengthier arms than normal people, each one with an extra couple arms attached to the ends to give them a wingspan large enough to bear their weight around. Stretched between this and the body was several individual's worth of skin, on more than a couple one could see a dried belly button or tattoo and a piercing. Their legs were relatively untouched, save for the feet had large portions of the flesh cut away to give the bony-clawlike alterations further purchase for grasping or slashing. The groin area had been excessively modified with an entire arm attached to the spot, the hand had been hacked away at the wrist with several mismatched point bones crammed into it so as to give them a stinger of sorts. Unlike the hounds, the Hawks had specifically modified vocal functions, their lung were primed solely to deliver an unearthly screech upon diving in an attempt to cause their prey to freeze up in confusion or fear. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Both Jessie and Rosaline could tell something was wrong. Jessie's combat, specifically archery training and field-experience had given her a good nack for understanding wind and acoustics. Nkiruka may have been a better expert on the habits of birds, but she was fairly certain hawks didn't screech when they were nearly on the ground level, especially if they were big enough to sound that loud. Rosaline on the other hand, was able to pick up on the ambient feelings of the dying forest. She could hear their whispers like the dying breath of an invalid. They harkened to a new tyrant, a monster who wore the flesh of their animal-kin and called itself the Huntsman. The bird's cry had been his call to arms in the past, and with a final exertion of their collective energy they released what they had known of the oncoming beasts to her. OOC: Sorry how...mangled that is. Is everyone okay with what I did? If you do not agree or do not like in the slightest, let me know and I will edit, delete, and so forth until you're satisfied! As for the disposition of the enemy, 10 hounds (one with an arrow wound <<...>>) 4 Hawks. The Huntsman will engage you guys next post of mine! =D Feel free to keel-keel-kell! |
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| Rosaline | Wed Sep 22, 2010 6:32 pm Post #10 |
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Rosaline’s eyes tried to pierce the vile woman who spat insults at her. She had not expected the woman to be so barbaric while the man walked away apologetically. As two of the travelers simply ignored her presence, Rosaline was left alone with the worst company of the lot. Her blood felt like fire as newfound rage piled onto her old pain to create something ugly and dark. Rosaline’s breathing became fast and visible as her shoulders rose up with each inhale, and she instinctually parted her lips to bear her teeth toward Jessie. The pained and enraged girl slipped her finger beneath a vine lying across her hip discretely as he stood off against the now-lone woman. A single, object the size of a peach pit fell to the ground, its green and tan exterior blending well with the vines that wrapped Rosaline’s body. The scene shifted as she felt a curious weight set into her stomach. Her legs felt pinned as she bore witness to a horrific tragedy. Terrible creatures, not one beast but assembled of many, tore deep into the bones and organs of the forest animals as they tried to flee. A doe lie disemboweled at her feet as the fawn was chased down by a mutilated hound to have its life stripped away by a powerful jaw. Her ears rang with an unnatural screech as her attention was drawn upward. Misshapen and terrible birds flew toward the chaos, their foreign calls enough to startle the fleeing creatures and leave them to a wretched fate. She watched as one of the beasts approached her, unaware of her presence, and swiftly cleaved the right half of the skull off of the doe corpse at her feet. She could not turn away. As she watched the ghastly remains leak out onto the forest floor, she heard the forest weep. Rosaline vomited. Her stomach had kept its composure when her consciousness returned to the present. It had been a vision, a nightmare. She found herself staring at the terrible woman with the infallible knowledge that these people were not the cause of the atrocities. She heard the voice of the forest, a voice she had not heard since she had fled her home. It cried out to her. As the screeching filled the air Rosaline’s attention snapped away from Jessie. The gut-wrenching terror that filled her in her vision had returned, and she wished she would wake up one more time. Her voice carried past Jessie toward the bushes where the other travelers had vanished, "Something terrible approaches! Protect yourselves!” Her eyes darted about the woods, occupied by a thought that kept her attention away from the screeching that threatened to freeze her in fear. The forest’s cries were nearby, loud, and old. She hoped that it would be able to hear her cry for help over its own pain. With confidence she turned and ran her hands along the thick, old tree beside her. Her mouth moved but her words could not be heard. As she spoke, the forest responded. The bark of the tree was covered in a faint green light, as well as the bark of two large trees behind Jessie. The air was filled with falling dead leaves as the trees began to creak loudly. Rosaline hoped her efforts would not be in vain as the sound of the assailants drew upon her. The object she had dropped was already taking root, and a single stem began to rapidly rise upward several feet and begin to thicken. |
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| Quinn | Sat Oct 2, 2010 1:47 am Post #11 |
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Jessie wasn't bothered when her teammates wandered off, or when the nature-girl started acting a little funny. As long as nothing happened to her, she'd be fine. It made the march oddly lonely, walking through a ruined forest path. It reminded her a tiny bit of when her father showed her the result of a rock slide, except she knew it was creatures of flesh and bone who did this. They seemed to be finding things, but Jessie was set in her discipline. The refugees needed this task completed, even if it was done by a party of four instead of a proper surge of soldiers. But wishes don't get jobs done, Jessie reminded herself. Then came the screams, low. Her bow was in her hand instantly, orders hurtling from her mouth. "Nki! Indo! Up front! Engage the closest target only, keep them off of us for as long as you can. Nothing flashy, kill them quick." Jessie barked. She nocked an arrow to her bow and aimed at the first creature as it stormed forwards. The arrow flew true, striking the creature in the shoulder. She was a little concerned, lacking a shield Jessie doubted she could defend herself well. Her hand darted to the next arrow, slowly drawing it, and nocking it. The beast she had shot had been overtaken, slowed but not really injured. She mentally rehearsed her shot as she raised the bow. Another arrow whistled off with the same mechanical precision she was used to. A creature fell face first into the mud with an arrow sticking from its forehead. A lucky shot, Jessie was aiming for the center of their bodies. Her next shot would come slower, she'd need to avoid over-exerting her arm. The aasimar took a step back as well, putting more distance between her and the swarming creatures. (I don't have the RPing fortitude to write a special bow sequence for every pull.) Edited by Quinn, Sat Oct 2, 2010 8:31 pm.
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| Nkiruka | Sat Oct 2, 2010 9:06 pm Post #12 |
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"Istan," was all she said, apparently changing her mind about how talkative she wanted to be with this Taras guardsman. They continued deeper into the forest, silent, until Nkiruka came to a sudden halt. After the wind had changed direction, an overwhelmingly vile stench had hit her. "The hell is that?" the mercenary spat, on the verge of gagging. "Smells like a goddamn battlefield. Or worse." She recoiled for a few moments, holding her arm over her nose and mouth, before bracing herself and scanning upwind for a possible source. A clearing lie just further beyond a short section of trees. Nki turned to Indomemar and Jessie, lowering her arm so she could speak properly. "I'm gonna check this out. It's probably nothing, but this, eh -- I just want to be sure." She waded through the brush between trees, heading toward the clearing. It didn't take long to reach what the mercenary now knew was a swamp of sorts. The trees thinned out to reveal a sprawling mass of moist, dead vegetation sitting in clumps of various sizes. Everything seemed... wrong. The smell that kept pummeling Nkiruka's nostrils should have been from something rotting, but she could neither see nor hear the swarms of insects that would invariably appear around whatever was causing such a terrible odor. Her focus dipped back down to one of the nearest clumps. Curious, she gave it a good nudge with her boot. A layer of plant matter fell away surprisingly easily, revealing the rotting, severed head of what looked to be a deer. "Hm." Well, that sort of made sense. Dead animals would smell bad. But where were the flies and maggots? Nkiruka turned the head over with her boot, still unable to find any sign of those things. When she straightened, looking at the overall marsh with this new information, it finally dawned on her that each one of those lumps wasn't just a pile of plants. They were all dead, rotting animals. A bit more shuffling around proved this theory and provided more grisly facts. Another corpse the mercenary partially unearthed had both of its front legs removed. Nki crouched down to look at it closer. There were still plenty of unusual slices into the bone, and the limbs themselves were nowhere nearby that she could see. Actually, this all seemed like a really, really bad sign. A hint of urgency seeping in, Nkiruka grabbed the doe's head in one hand to show to the others and made her way back to the trail. "Guys! I found something," Nki shouted to them the moment she was in earshot. She emerged from the trees, holding up the glassy-eyed severed head. "A whole field of them. Just random mutilated animals. But there's no flies or anything. I think--" She froze as the familiar voice of the nature-girl called for them to prepare for an attack. Nki finally paid attention. Blood-curdling screech. Jessie barking orders. Nkiruka's blades were out in moments, having thrown the severed head aside. The mercenary rushed forward when the swarm of monsters descended, bracing herself for the attack. Success at first; when a hound lunged at her, she stepped to the side and dug her knife into its throat. Its weight helped her wrench the weapon violently to the side. The hound's body twisted from the force of the blow, landing on its back. Even though Nki had lost her grip on her knife after that, she followed through with her off-hand, stabbing the creature multiple times in its exposed underside. The near-dead hound lay in a pool of a viscous black fluid Nki assumed to be blood. She retrieved her weapon but hesitated, staring at it. Something about these creatures piqued her interest. They were horrific abominations, sure, but they were powerful. Nki had an idea, but it was a mistake to ponder such things for too long in the heat of battle. Without even realizing it, a massive hound slammed into her body with such force that they both rolled on the ground down the slight incline of the trail. During those frantic fractions of a second they both fought for control of the mercenary's weapons. The gribbly finally got enough of a hold that it sunk its jaws into Nkiruka's right arm, forcing her to let go of the knife in her more dominant hand. She responded with her own strength, trying to strong-arm the creature off her body with kicks, wing-flaps and even panicked stabs, but it held on for dear life. When they both came to a stop at the foot of the hill, a second hound leaped and landed on Nki's wing, pinning it down. By the time one of the ghastly hawks emerged from the forest's canopy and descended upon her as well, Nkiruka was almost unable to be seen within the constantly-moving mass of skin, bone and flesh that aimed to tear her apart. ((OOC: Halp! ;-;)) Edited by Nkiruka, Sun Oct 3, 2010 4:16 am.
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| Indómemar | Wed Dec 22, 2010 1:00 am Post #13 |
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Indo's eye had been caught by something unnaturally shiny in the mud, and he had paused to pick it up while Nkiruka showed them the severed head she had just pulled from the decaying vegetation. His walking pace slowed drastically as he inspected the metal object, a cold uneasiness settling in the bottom of his stomach. He recognized this locket. It had belonged to an acquaintance of his, Lady Tyriel. Its re-emergence in this forest did not bode well for her, and it left him questioning the few bits and pieces of her disappearance that he was able to recall. They had barely gone forty paces when their quarry caught up with them. A shout from the woodsmaiden gave him only a moment's head start in coming to arms. Appreciative of Sir Lagan's quick tactical advice, he dodged over toward Nki's side without hesitation. She had already felled a large hound when another bowled her over and sent her tumbling downhill where a second waited, ready to strike. They were all over her, and she appeared overpowered. Reluctant to throw his spear from a distance for fear of missing and striking Nki, he charged the writhing mass of limbs with it aimed like a lance. He had a clear shot of the hound-creature that had her wing pinned, and he took it with his full-speed and weight. He landed on top of the beast, his weapon plunging into its abdomen while his shield kept him safe from its snapping teeth. His momentum separated the beast from Nki and sent it rolling away from her with Indo still on top of it, doing his best to repeatedly slam the shield into its skull while still maintaining a grip on his spear. It was unnatural how it yelped without any sound escaping its festering maw. By pinning the hound's neck down with his shield and bracing himself with the spear - which also served to drive its point in deeper to ensure that it hit vital organs - Indo quickly got back on his feet. He barely had time to rip his weapon out of its side before it squirmed away. Aside from a slight limp, the hound appeared nearly unphased by his blitz attack as it backed away from him with its teeth barred threateningly. His adrenaline abated a little, realizing that these undead flesh-monsters were going to be more difficult to slow and kill than any regular animal. What were its weak points? He made a forward slash at the beast to keep it at bay while he assessed the enemy count. His heart sunk a little to spot another pack headed their way. "How do we kill these damn things!?" he shouted at his comrades. |
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| Dies Irae | Wed Jan 12, 2011 2:58 am Post #14 |
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A mute rasping of pain came from the Hound that Jessie had lodged an arrow into. The limb where the arrow stuck out from didn't react much anymore, and the bones ground against the arrow head where it was embedded. Critical damage it didn't have the time nor awareness to correct. Rather it scrabbled up one of the thick, dying trees. Leaping over head to avoid the mass of bodies. Jessie's critical eye noticed a movement in the other hounds, every time they leaped or moved, they always seemed to try to keep a clawed hand or piece of cover near their midriff. It seemed to be some form of unconscious behavior, as none of them expressed much of a self-preservation desire. However, instinctive protectiveness of one's weakness hadn't been overcome it seemed. With the patience of a markswoman, Jessie waited until the gimp-limbed Hound leapt one more time and exposed the midriff. The string gave a sharp twang as she let the arrow fly, a solid impact sent the Hound tumbling down to the earth in a shower of dried up bark and broken branches. The fall crushed several bones in its body, but unlike any of the others it had started to quiver and hack up the black fluid that served as blood. The wound itself was leaking the foul substance quickly. The arrow had penetrated the heart, relocated to a more central mass that was normally low to the ground and hard to direct an attack at. Armed with this knowledge she strung another arrow and took a patient look at the sprawling mass of violence that had at one point been Nkiruka. A calm and solid intake of breath and her gaze followed the Hawk that had started to descend with a death-strike on her stricken comrade. Another twang and the arrow left her possession, another confirmed blow in the same area with an unearthly gurgling shriek from the Hawk. Mortally wounded it collided with a tree, the skin-wings breaking apart and coating the ground below with a fine, black mist. ------ Indomemar's rescue came not a moment to soon. One of the hounds had a broken jaw and was in the middle of fixing it around Nkiruka's throat to rip it out. Given the momentary freedom she needed, Nki rolled and pushed herself up in a whirl. Closing in on the Hound Indo had tossed back before it could recover. With a slight bracing the muscles in her wings strained and sent a gust of wind and leaves into the Hound, sending it off balance and blinding it. The gribbly raised a warding claw in front of its face and Nki hacked the offending limb off at the wrist with a follow up strike pinning the second hand to the chest. With a strong sweep of her wings that sent a flare of pain from the bruises dealt just moments earlier, she sent the thing to the ground. Stepping onto the handle of the pinned in knife with her boot she repeatedly stomped on the ribcage. Each blow made a crack somewhere inside, the fourth time there was wet crunch as the anger-fueled blows caved in the central cavity and the Hound died with a violent spasm. ----- The Hound stayed just out of reach of Indo until it heard the scampering of its comrades. It wanted to taste the man-flesh first, it had yet to achieve a First Blood in any other hunt. It was going to get the glory this time and be allowed to sleep near the Huntsman's mantle. Spurred on the Hound loped in, staying low to give the jabbing spear a target the guard wouldn't be able to hit. It would rip out the tendons in his ankles, jam the back-spines into his fleshy innards and bathe in the warmth. The detail it forgot, was that Indo had no intention of simply standing there uselessly. When it came in he ignored the spear and brought down the rim of his shield on the creature's neck with both hands. The resounding crack left the creature's head lolling like a doll's, evidently broken. Pressing down harder, the thing soundless worked its jaws and tried to scrabble at the shield to push it away. Nki had just crushed the life of one of the gribblies, and noting the struggle Indo was in and hurled the blade at one of the Hound's hand that was scrabbling at the dirt. Nearly cut in half, the hand twitched as if in pain when Indo deftly ripped it out and with a strained grunt jammed the blade into the back of the gribbly's broken neck and strong armed the steel through the flesh. Decapitated, the Hound wasn't dead but directionless. Stumbling backwards it frenziedly swiped at the empty air before the heavy flow of black ichor left it motionless and dead. It was becoming increasingly evident that they could be bled to death like a human at least. |
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| Nkiruka | Tue Jan 18, 2011 11:00 pm Post #15 |
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((OOC: Going back and counting, it looks like 5 out of 10 Hounds are dead and 1 out of 4 Hawks are dead. Correct me if I'm wrong.)) The thrill of the fight faded. Nkiruka teetered a bit, almost stumbling, before righting herself. Dark brown feathers that the Hound had ripped from her wing were scattered all about the forest floor. Her right arm hung limp at her side, bleeding through the ripped fabric of her jacket. After tossing the knife, she'd watched in a daze the guardsman kill one of the last Hounds. Just a few seconds ago, Nki had felt a kind of perverse joy at utterly destroying one of the enemies that had wounded her so. Now, as the benefits of the adrenaline surge wore off, she didn't really feel anything. Nkiruka started walking toward the rest of the group to talk to them and assess the damage. A Hound flew by, just barely missing her. It was an astoundingly lucky action that probably saved her life. The Hound crashed into the ground, but scrambled to its feet in an instant. The sudden brush with death forced adrenaline back through the listless mercenary's veins. Holding her injured arm close to her body, she whirled around to face the construct, inching back toward Indo and Jessie with knees bent and knife held up in a defensive posture. Two more Hounds emerged from the brush to join it, snapping their jaws. Another pair emerged from the other side of the trail. One lunged, leaping toward Nki's right side with superhuman speed. She fell into a low crouch; it barely missed her and messily landed a few feet to her left. A second was moments behind, slamming into the woman's wing like a shield. It dug its claws into the feathers, scrambling to get over the wall of muscle. The merc rose to her feet and throttled the gribbly with powerful wingbeats; it eventually lost hold and fell off, tearing out bunches of feathers along with it. Nkiruka's tactics changed from defense to all-out withdrawal. Pain, fear and anger became the fuel that allowed her to get away. After backing away very quickly for several feet, slashing any Hound that got too close with her single knife, she turned around when it was safe and rushed into the group's back-line, near Jessie. "Kill the bastards," she hissed to both of them. Her right wing dragged on the ground behind her as she walked over to a nearby tree and leaned against it. Face twisted into a wince, Nki withstood the intense pain of her wounds while she scanned the forest for more danger. She slid off her jacket. The gribbly's claws had completely torn through the right sleeve, leaving gaping holes. Hand shaky from adrenaline, Nkiruka began cutting the coat into strips, which she wrapped around her arm as makeshift bandages. "Make sure the trees are clear of the flying ones," she shouted back to Jessie, briefly glancing up at the canopy in a fit of paranoia. ((OOC: I hope the characters get some breathing room after this fight, so they can regroup and lick their wounds. I got Nki a little bit more beaten up than I thought I did, and I don't want her to be useless against tougher opponents later on. XD )) Edited by Nkiruka, Tue Jan 18, 2011 11:02 pm.
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2:50 PM Jul 11

