Re: Writing Exercise: Death and Killing!
Terror... Carnage... The sounds of battle-crys, fear, and the clashing of steel upon steel echoing through the cavern... Or what once was a cavern. The roof of it had been exploded, causing giant boulders of rock to rain down in all directions, landing on both friend and foe. Arlemar had never seen such a force before, not in all the nine realms, and unfortunately, his hidden town caused him to have to take sides with the protectors of this land. A few of his trusted friends had been by his side, though they were the most unlikely of people to be together with, they were now unendingly fighting for their own lives. The tribal warriors kept flocking over the hills, they ran down the mountainous hill towards the entrance of the cavern, there sheer numbers causing such an intimidating sense that it was hard for Arlemar to keep his arm from shaking... A parry then lunge, slicing through his stomach, pulling it clear only to spin and block another two lunges. They had formed a front line just before the mouth of the of the structure, to halt the arrows had the roof still been intact. The Nadir warriors were pushing them back, there numbers seemed to never lessen, and the bodies on the floor offered no comfort. Arlemar was like a wedge in the ranks, he refused to move, even with the cuts along his arm, blood dripping from another on his face, and a few cracks in his Obsidian armour covering his chest. His Crystal swords, his Agate Longsword and Jasper Scimitar, swung through the air with the high-pitched whistle of death's promises, felling one after another.
A large brute grunted and charged at Arlemar, he stood a good seven feet tall, and his muscles was like nothing Arlemar had ever expected from these Nadir. A lance lunged towards his face, and swiping it to the side with Scimitar, he only had one sword to try and halt the large club that swung down to him. His sword raised to meet the club, and was forced down, cutting slightly into his shoulder. He roared at him, echoing and causing a small shock-wave that only made him take a single step back, and he grunted as he ripped his sword from his wound. The brute swung again, and Arlemar ran under his arm, leaping at the great frame as he buried his swords into the giants chest. It stumbled and he jumped from it, ripping only one sword free as he held his shoulder for a brief moment. He continued onwards, picking up an axe that he threw at an oncoming attacker, before charging in again. He was glad that Wulf had the right side of the wall, and Feral had the left, though between the three the Nadir flanked and charged at the soldiers behind them, trying to keep up. This was the sixth time they had attacked, and it felt like attacking an entire continent. His sword buried deep into the chest of another, but locked itself between the ribs. Arlemar cursed, not having enough time for another pull, he kicked the dying man into an oncomer, the ground splitting as his crystals Stave came out. His left side was weaker now, and he had to rely on his right arm more for survival, he switches stances and continued batting them away. He just had to hold it till Nosfentor returned with reinforcements, he was already three days late, and the Nadir were taking every advantage they could get. Another Parry, swinging a kick, ducking a high lunge.
A spear had been lunged as Arlemar cracked a Nadir head, the spear went right through his calf. He couldn't help but falter, and as he did, a soldier moved to defend an attack made to him. He snapped the spear handle, leaving the spear inside, as he continued combat. His teeth gritted against the pain, he fought to not cry out in pain, he was a symbol to these people. And he felled another ten or so.
Wulf, a famous Vampyre of age, held his side with much difficulty. He had raised Ghasts by the hundreds to block them off, caused the skies to turn dark from black clouds, summoned spirits and other undead creatures, in hopes of dominating their will-power and courage. He had bats flying above the sky, informing him of the mass of numbers still to come, and he himself was right in the middle of it as ghastly creatures came to his aid whenever he faltered. The Nadir were strong of will, for their leader was famed for his many victories against the most unlikely of foes. They belief in their destiny was strong, and though Wulf tried hard to crush their mentality, they seemed to never fail, and for every Nadir that fell, there were many more tribesmen to take his place.
Feral, a truly strange man, bent energy of both arcane and force to his aid. His combat style was strange, and his swordsmanship was superb, swinging his swords to send waves of energy into the hordes. He caused the very ground to crack, and recharging his own muscles with his mystical energy, fought on through all weariness to hold his position. It was inconceivable that they would not turn away, and Feral's blade cut through many of them, piling the bodies upon one another as they climbed over. He threw an item that exploded against a warrior, taking a few with its fiery wrath, each time he bent the energy into his sword, he would send them flying backwards, but the numbers were just something that no amount of skill was able to equal to.
And then Arlemar saw it, and he knew he would not survive this war... Beasts melded into men, through dark magic that not even Arlemar would touch. Bears and wolves, panthers and Crocodiles, demonically merged with humans to create horrifying 'Meldings'. They were more powerful than all three, humans, beasts and Demons, the smallest standing at eight feet. It was not the fact that they wielded such creatures, it was that they'd been able to create these in bundles, they were on the horizon, number over 1,000, with more behind them. There troops could not hold out against these creatures, it would be a few minutes before they got here, and already some of the warriors turned heads in fear. Arlemar opened his mouth, and made one last terrifying battle-cry, summoning some demons to aid him as he fought on. His leg gave way and he fell sideways, another Nadir chanced his death, but the demons launched themselves in the way, dying for their master and their limp bodies falling upon the warriors. Arlemar cursed as he got back up, fighting his hardest, it was not about him surviving anymore, Nosfentor would be here, with his entire army, he just had to hold on. And then they were upon him, The Meldings took out a few demons before it was slain, Arlemar stood and against all things he fought, a tear falling from his eye as a doubt escape his grip. He ducked under a claw, ramming the stave into its chest, falling it. Before leaping to the left, narrowly avoiding another Melding, crying out as his right leg landed awkwardly. He batted his Stave against the beast, granting a few seconds as he stunned it to stand up again. Soldiers were now fleeing, all but the hardened veterans, which were few in numbers. Arlemar stood and defended a claw, then another, and another. He was being pushed back and against all will-power and belief, where the thought alone was enough in the past, no matter what he did, he was driven inch by inch back, another Melding appeared, this one wielded a massive blade that made his eyes widen. It was much larger than a claymore, and as it swung he faltered from the injury in his shoulder. The blade knocked him off his feet, causing him to fly through the air. His Obsidian armour, was shattered into hundreds of tiny shards, and the wind knocked out of his lungs for a moment. He coughed and attempted to stand, their speed was great and if not for his reactions he'd have been dead right there. He swung his stave with all his might, and shattered the sword and struck the beast in the chest, falling that one as well. Unfortunately he could see it crumbling, and with one last swing, he broke it on the head of a Nadir. He heard some shouts, and someone called his name, he turned as he heard a shriek, and a fist pounded into his chest, breaking a few ribs. He flew through the air again, smashing into the gritty walls, before falling to the ground, his last item, a tome of his own making, laying a few feet away from him. He sat there, looking up, he heard something hit the ground hard, as he opened his eyes he thought he saw Nosfentor for a moment, and he smiled, blood dripping out of his mouth. Someone took his hand, and he coughed up some blood.* I... Knew... You.... Would come... *His voice was filled with relief, as tears streamed down his face, his vision clouded and he closed his eyes, finally resting as he felt the pain ease away.*