Desperate Times

He let go his sword and relaxed slightly. "Killing a demon then. It had to happen sooner or later. I don't mind it happening sooner." He grinned slightly as he turned towards the two others. "Well, he should be alright now. He shouldn't be in any fights against demons, but I think he'll be okay otherwise. So, do you want to take care of him, or should we leave him with him?" He points towards the necromancer as he finishes, goes over to his wolf and gets onto it.
 
As he approached the watchtower, Knariit'ash quickly realised it was made of what seemed to be bone. He couldn't help but be impressed by the overall design of the building as he made himself comfortable on his new, temporary roost, he particularly approved of the skulls inlaid at regular intervals in the outer walls. The building looked like it most likely served a larger stronghold, elsewhere.

He drew himself away from the intensity of the watchtower and looked out, over to the trio in the sand which were vague outlines that he could just about make out from this distance. Barely 5 minutes had passed since reaching the watchtower when the outline of a fourth figure appeared and made contact with Knariit'ash's quarry. What happened to this being a wasteland? There are people coming out of the woodwork! He couldn't tell what was going on between the new arrival and the three on the ground and was tempted to move a little closer but decided to stay put, confident that he could catch up easily enough should they start moving away from him.

Usually he would find assignments like this dull and would yearn for something exciting to happen, sometimes even taking a break to kill some hapless woodland creature or other but he was so fascinated by the unusual journey he'd stumbled across that he was quite happy to sit around watching, as his tail traced its customary path through the air behind him.
 
Letitia listened to the necromancer and the Orc exchange words, nodding occasionally to let them know that she was still there. As Rogdush asked if she wanted to stay with the injured man or go with him, she thought about it for quite a while, long enough that it seemed she had forgotten the question. On one hand, she wasn't sure if she trusted the necromancer, but on the other hand, she wanted to be in the front lines of the proving. She was fighting for her people, too, and deserved to have a part in the workings of it as much as the Orc did. Deliberating her two options carefully, she finally decided on the former option.

"I wish to stay with him," she gestured at the man, wondering if she was making the right decision.
 
Chand had sat in the sand, acheing in his right rib still. His sight would go between the Necromancer and the Orc that stood before each other. Chand is delirious and confused of what is going on, all he knows is talk of demons and proving themselves to the man. Chand stays silent for the whole conversation, catching that this man of magic was very important to the two. Although very dazed at the situation at hand, killing a demon that has been following the woman, he was a bit grateful that they had found him.

He heard the woman debate with the two options in silence. Chand hat sat still without a move or flex, thinking of the possibilities at hand. If he had went with the necromancer, or the woman he did not care. At a state he was on, anyone that offered might as well be it...

He had heard the woman volunteer herself. He slowly looked up to her, blank expressing growing into that genuine fake smile he had fooled thousands with.

"Thank you... Ma'am." he said softly under his breath, in rhythm.
 
"Very well. I'll be back after I fell the demon." He said, before he rode off in the direction the necromancer had pointed out. It did not take long before he saw the old tower. He felt a bit angry, yet at the same time a bit of pride when he saw it. A tower built of the dead, a act of desperation he had been told. A tower to keep one horde away from another. He made a mental note to ask the necromancer if he could bring back the sculls of his ancestors at some point. Either after having fought this demon, or after having fought a thousand more.
 
When one of the outlines started to grow, heading straight for him, Knariit'ash couldn't believe his eyes. Are they checking if they could use the watchtower as a camp? Regardless of the reason for the expedition, Knariit'ash made a lightening decision as to what he would do. He hadn't intended on making contact of any kind but this was an opportunity he couldn't pass up: a lone member of the party approaching his vantage point, unaware of his presence? It was almost too easy.

He drew himself into the shadow of one of the parapets and waited for the approaching figure to get to the tower. He had to restrain himself from swooping and attacking from here, as anticipation nibbled away at the back of his mind, his tail slowly coiling and uncoiling itself.
 
As he approached the tower, Rogdush slowed down almost to walking pace. He figured the tower would be the most likely place for a demon to hide. As he climbed off Gorn, he thought a little. He had seen a couple of small demons before. Quick, but weak. And he doubted there would be anything more than scouts, so far from the rest of the legion. He figured his sword would be too slow to hit it, so he left it in its sheet. He slowly entered the tower, making sure to look around, as he made his way towards the top of it.
 
Knariit'ash watched as the figure, now recognisable as the Orc who'd left the city with the girl, entered the tower. Once he'd disappeared into the structure beneath him, the Imp waited a few moments to allow him to make some progress into the building before drifting silently to the ground and making his way back inside, behind the Orc. Knariit'ash was large for an Imp, albeit nowhere close to the power of an Orc, and could just about hold his own in hand-to-hand combat due to his agility and the extra advantage provided by his razor-tipped tail. Still, he preferred to avoid head-on encounters if he could, preferring to attack under an element of surprise. Many would call him a coward, but he saw it as being closer to logic than cowardice.

He figured the Orc would have headed upwards and made his way to the stairs, quickly finding his assumption had been correct as he rounded the corner onto an intermediate landing and saw the Orc almost at the bottom of the next flight of stairs. He decided he'd have more of an upper hand here, in the close quarters of the landing, where the Orc was likely to be cramped and seized his opportunity, pouncing at his turned back, claws extending even as he left the floor. In his enthusiasm, he let out a quiet but definitely noticeable shriek of malice which he immediately regretted, as he realised he'd blown his cover before taking advantage of the Orc's obliviousness.
 
As Rogdush made his way up the stairs, suddenly he heard a shriek from behind himself, before he felt something sharp digging into his back. Reacting faster than he could think, he smashed his back into the wall, cursing as he did.
 
Another shriek left the Imp, though of pain this time, as he was propelled into the wall and his claws were forced from where they'd pierced the Orc's shoulders. Quickly recovering himself, he wrapped his arms around the Orc's chest before he could turn around, clasping one hand with the other to try and prevent him drawing a weapon. The Imp's tail began to work it's way around his powerful neck, winding itself tighter in a vain attempt to crush the life from him.
 
"You've bitten over more than you can chew, little bastard!" He shouted, as he threw his hands upwards, trying to free himself, then attempted to grab a limb of the little demon to swing him into the floor.
 
Knariit'ash was no match for the strength that the Orc put into escaping his grasp and as nimble as he was, he didn't have time to evade the Orc's grab at him, though he did manage to keep his tail around the his opponent's neck until he was swung toward the floor, at which point it unravelled and cut a deep gash in his right trapezius.

Winded by the sudden impact with the floor, Knariit'ash spread his huge wings as far as he could, taking up the majority of the small space with them, in an attempt to disorient his foe before he pushed himself back to his feet, readying himself for whatever attack would come next.
 
Rogdush flinched at the cut the little demon made, yet quickly put his focus back on the little one, only to get a face full of wing. "I'll tear you apart, you little hellspawn!" he shouted as he grabbed for the wing closest to him, put his foot against the body of the imp, and attempted to rip the damn thing off.
 
She smiled softly at the injured man's words of thanks, watching as Rogdush left to prove themselves. She told him, "It isn't a problem. I figured you'd like company." What she didn't add was that she didn't quite trust the necromancer, even if Banshees and necromancers had once walked hand in hand together. She had no idea of what was happening between the demon and the Orc, instead keeping her gaze upon the necromancer. After a second, she asked him, "So...do you enjoy being a necromancer?" Clearly, she wasn't sure what to say, not sure how he'd react if she said something offensive. Letitia tried to smile, but it turned to become a slight grimace.
 
Knariit'ash hadn't reckoned with the possibility of the Orc grabbing his wing and was in agony with his attempts to rip it from his side. He thrust his tail sharply toward the Orc but the gesture fell short as he was overcome by a flush of pain: his ligaments had given way under the immense strain and his wing was torn from his body. Blinded by rage as well as pain, Knariit'ash slashed at the Orc's face with his claws whilst simultaneously whipping his tail in a wide circular motion, close to the floor, to try and trip the Orc whilst his attention was at eye level.
 
He laughed as the sound of flesh tearing when the wing was ripped from its place. He threw it down the stairs, before he grunted as he felt that familiar feeling of getting cut. Luckily it wasn't too deep, and it didn't hit his eyes, yet it distracted him long enough to be tripped by the demons tail. He hit the floor with a loud thud, and shot booth his feet out towards the red face in front of him.
 
Vintus raised an eyebrow as he peered at the girl, "I'm not sure that I'm capable of enjoying anything any more." He paused for a second, twiddling his staff between the palms of his hands as he considered his words. "At first I hated what I am, then I came to terms with it. I suppose I enjoyed it for a time but after existing for as long as I have everything kind of loses meaning. It's difficult to explain to one as new to life as you. I presume you find wonderment in everything?" He spoke in a matter-of-fact sort of way rather than the mocking tone his words implied.
 
As soon as he saw the Orc begin to fall, Knariit'ash made to dive on top of him, mouth open and fangs bared but he was soon stopped in his tracks as the Orc's boots connected with his jaw, sending his head flying backwards whilst his bottom half continued forwards. Dazed for a few seconds from the impact with the floor as much as the kick to his face, he was unable to recover quickly enough to take advantage of the Orc's less than favourable position and stumbled slightly as he picked himself up from his own. He span clumsily in an attempt to whip the Orc with the end of his tail, even though he was still reeling from the fall and wasn't completely sure exactly where the Orc was.
 
As soon as he felt his boots hit the demon, Rogdush got to his feet. As he stood, he saw the demon swinging its tail again. Though this time, he was ready, and stomped down on the tail as it was about to hit him, then quickly sending his other foot back to where it had been only moments ago, the demons face!
 
Letitia nodded slowly, not sure she understood fully, but finding some shreds of sense in the necromancer's words. She didn't answer his question, not sure how to answer it. It was a weird question to ask, she finally supposed, also deciding it was a rhetorical question. Turning her gaze back to the injured man, she asked him, "What is your name?" Her voice was quiet, as she tried not to startle him.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Top Bottom
Back