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[b][color=265828]Time:[/color][/b] One Week After Human Arrival
[b][color=265828]Location:[/color][/b] Seaside Park
[b][color=265828]Interactions:[/color][/b] Aurora [@mole], Vasco [@JJ Doe]
[b][color=265828]Mentions:[/color][/b] None
[b][color=265828]Equipment:[/color][/b] Longsword and Plate Armor[hr]
Few found the courage to attack Barrock, and with each brave soul charging in only to have their skulls and chests caved in, it only dwindled. Soon, the creatures around him grew wiser and began to use numbers against him, avoiding his attempts to force a fight, running around the storehouse. And elsewhere, things weren't shaping up well. Barrock didn't notice Aurora being knocked out of action, but he definitely noticed Vasco, by the merit of more Black Maws suddenly showed up around Barrock. Trust him, he could count. 

This was also the moment he got quiet. His internal grunting diluted away, the only sound he made were flesh against metal.

Orcs often viewed this avoidance behavior as cowardice, and would often lash out, and this was exactly what they wanted. Orcs were hunted and killed this way, like a bull in a cage. No, they would not have that satisfaction of torturing another orc like that. They were going to be tortured by him instead. 

Barrock proceeded to sheathe his sword and turned toward Vasco, Aurora and Rowan. It was as if his enemies weren't there. But one hand of his still had a hand on the hilt. 

The daring move had a touch of irony. The Black Maw goons were flabbergasted. Two took offense to being sleighted, and charged when Barrock's back was against them. The orc waited an extra second to tighten that jaw around their fates. 

The world slowed around him, as the orc's rite of a fly swatter rolled into his senses - lensed his eyes, covered his ears, and enhanced his sixth. In less than a blink of an eye, Barrock's blade has left the sheath, and it found its flesh in a dark elf's hip, cutting straight into her spinal cord. The momentum carried the elf into a werewolf, who both slammed into a nearby cart.

Another dark elf stepped forward, likely because his mind still lived two seconds in the past. It was already too late. Barrock's sword slammed into his head. He fell to the ground in a pool of blood. 

The rest recoiled in shock. They hesitated again, Barrock could see their hands shaking. He raised his sword up tauntingly before sheathing it back. What were they going to do about it?