Fetzen

The Five Senses

Two pieces ? What do you mean ? :)

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Andvari

_{Interacting with Bartolomeo (@Bright_Ops)}

Andvari noticed that his unexpected callout towards Bartolomeo had apparently managed to free the hunter from his somewhat nervous looking state. The only thing that lacked was an immediate feedback if this was actually a benign thing or rather due to having been startled by Andvari's voice. The latter, probably not exactly surprising if one took a look at the volume of the hunter's upper body, was extremely chesty. In fact there had been suggestions in Andvari's past that he should try a career as an opera singer. Now obviously things had not come this far as of now, and quite frankly Witches' Paradise didn't seem to be anywhere near a good place to start said career.

Andvari tried not to accidentally hit the noble looking man's knees as he pulled out the chair at the opposite end of the table and sat down. The piece of furniture was significantly lower than the bar stool he came from, so he faced rather obvious issues when trying to accomodate himself properly. Also Andvari made no secret of his interest in Bartolomeo's cane. A clattering noise had emanated from it, raising his suspicion about its shaft not being entirely solid and causing him to lean sideways in order to get another look at the thing. Close-up it looked even more precious than from further away, but without any means to look inside of it he could only speculate about its true nature.

"You look a little nervous." he ultimately addressed Bartolomeo, trying to maintain his subtle smile towards the other man. However Andvari's efforts in terms of facial expression were utterly shattered in an instant as a loud crack could be heard, his countenance slipping away and degenerating into pure astonishment as he could suddenly see Flint's head resting in... well... a soft place where it wouldn't get hurt by accident all too soon anymore. And as if this didn't suffice another relatively large man got up and made an effort to rip Flint's head out of that place again, subsequently granting it the dubious luxury of bare, dirt-stained wood. The motive ? Explained by the doer right away and without any holding back it seemed.

"Well, erm..." Only slowly Andvari turned his head back toward his conversational partner, but he already started speaking again well before the movement's completion. "It seems you can discontinue your search. If that isn't nasty I don't know..." He started to chuckle -- something he should probably try to stop right away as the already overloaded chair made precarious creaking noises with every of Andvari's moves. Noticing this he tried to calm himself, but still grinned many seconds later.

"What's your name ? I'm Andvari. Andvari Markat. Are you a hunter ?"

Since he had positioned himself at the end of the table opposing Bartolomeo Andvari could see the counter and those roaming in front of it without turning his head. It allowed him to discover ongoing conversations there optically before even hearing them. While not trying to be too nosy he still couldn't stop himself from focusing in on a particular one between Emiliah and another female the former had just literally pulled towards her. He understood most of the verbal exchange between them and made a mental note about it. It might be interesting to dig deeper into when there was the opportunity, maybe he could even extract more information simply by eavesdropping while sitting here. For the moment however Bartolomeo had his primary attention.

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Andvari

_{Interacting with Bartolomeo (@Bright_Ops) and sorta with Sanjin (@ghastlyInc) and Emiliah (@Ellion)}

"Thanks for the info." Andvari told Sanjin, nodding his head appreciatively towards the other man. He really would have liked to continue his conversation with both him and the woman who had identified herself as Emiliah, but it seemed that the two knew something about an institution called 'The Pack' Sanjin was associated with. There really was nothing Andvari knew about that, so he was considering if he should actually start to annoy the two with asking probably very trivial questions that would only help to reveal him as a noner in the hunter business.

To both his luck and his shock he didn't have to bother himself for all too long with that issue anyway. The door was suddenly burst open and a man walked, or no... limped... into, bleeding from several severe looking lacerations. He matched his father's description of a guy called Flint rather well: Not very tall, but of a sturdy build and an excellent archer. The bow in his posession was obvious, but so was that it apparently had not been to much avail against the problem -- whatever might hide behind that abstract term. People gathered quickly so Andvari, coming from his bar stool at the other end of the main hall, would not have been much help anyway.

Still the not-yet-hunter could not keep his eyes away from the scene. This wasn't only about bad injuries having to be treated and the question if Flint would carry permanent damage away from this or not, but the situation actually invoked a question of even greater magnitude in Andvari's head: Just how foolish could someone allow himself to be before things would start to fall back onto him ? He had come to this place his father had warned him about. A place that was one of the most purest hunter domains the world was aware of -- and he was no real part of it. Yet he wasn't one of those few innocent and unaware villagers either as not only didn't he live here, but also at least Bobby probably had already identified him as who he actually was. And now he couldn't even just run away from things with the problem waiting to rip apart any lonely travelers on the roads through the forests...

A voice spoke up, requesting others to defend themselves against whatever was out there while the tone was that of revenge. Perfectly understandable, but should he join them ? Yes, he had a weapon, and yes, he had trained with it rather extensively. But the palace gardens had always been a quiet place and there had been no way to change that, so all he had in terms of experience were dry runs and not the real thing. If not even anyone else knew what had attacked Flint at this point joining a hunting party seemed way too risky. But, on the other hand, why had he come here in there place then if it wasn't for some dramatic experience that was less boring than behaving super calm and obedient all day long ? A small dilemma was unfolding in his mind that he was struggling to deal with quickly.

He observed the ongoing situation from his stool like a dramatically oversized cat, eyes wide open and ears paying full attention to the various voices. Both Emiliah and Sanjin would not have too much of a difficulty with discovering his increased level of nervousness. Andvari's lips had become a rather thin, rather tightly closed pair of reddish lines running in parallel along his face. As he was panning his eyes across the main hall he spotted another one who, at least at second glance, appeared to be in a similar situation. The man's clothing was an obvious mismatch with regard to what the other people were wearing. To be honest the quality of the fabric and the fine-tuning of the colors remembered Andvari of those people that used to go in and out of Oriel's palace day and night. People with way more coins than they could reasonably carry around. Was this a noble ? What the hell was he doing here ? He had never heard of noble hunters...

Andvari lowered his head a little to see what Bartolomeo was hiding beneath his arms and on his thighs. A thing made out of shiny metal came into view, likely silver. And it was sharp at one end so there were two properties that were capable of making stuff expensive each on their own. With both combined that cane was bound to be brutally pricey. If he had still been in the palace and acting as a servant Andvari would have put more effort into his approach, but given the noisyness of this place, the fact that someone heavily injured way laying around close to both of them and the presence of two really large tankards of strong stuff in his belly a loud "Hey! What's wrong ?" shouted out into Bartolomeo's direction would have to suffice.

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Andvari

_{Interacting with Emiliah (@Ellion), Bobby (@Aerandir) and Sanjin (@ghastlyInc)}

As Andvari was waiting for his drink the tavern seemed to fill up rapidly. Frankly speaking he got the feeling of not wanting to be the place's owner for the amount of work the job must have posed, but on the other hand one could probably earn a significant amount of money here. This seemed not only to be a simple tavern where drinks and foods were sold and rooms were rented, but this looked like the primary gathering place for every hunter in the area before and after any major activity. Wounds were treated, information exchanged... and strange acquaintances made.

He watched Emiliah, whose name he didn't even know, come closer to him, and address the man behind the counter with 'Bobby'. So this was Bobby, the most famous of them all his father had told him stories about ? Good to know - so he wouldn't make a mock out of himself when trying to get into conversation with the man in front of all the hunters without even being sure about his name. Yet now was not the time for this as the attractive woman decided to turn towards him.

"Erm... yes ?" A not only slightly confused answer in full spite of the fact that the issue stated was a very simple one. "I would think so, and so does the vast majority of people." He stretched out his open hand which looked as if it could just swallow up half of Emiliah's arm in one go, but given the gentle smile he tried to put on this was more meant as a nice gesture of greeting each other. "I'm Andvari. And you ?"

He could hear the sound of a tankard being put down on the table next to him and gave Bobby a thankful nod. Andvari was still looking towards Emiliah, but actually was thirsty enough to reach for the beverage with his unused arm while still offering her his hand. He still focused on her so did not look at what was inside the tankard, but he expected beer anyway. The taste of honey came as a surprise and it was good. And strong that stuff was! It didn't take long for the tankard to become halfway emptied and Andvari turned towards Bobby: "Hey! How could you know I would like this stuff even more ? It's great!" With his still free hand he reached into the depths of his pockets in search of some coins which subsequently clattered onto the counter. "One more after this one, please!"

"You stink of the road mister! If you dont bathe properly the prey will notice you. ....and then you'll die...I'm Sanjin, do you have work?"

Andvari really tried not to do it, but his instincts beat him and he actually inspected the strange newcomer from top to bottom. However, even if taking all of his clothes and accessories into account, the strangeness Sanjin's outer appearance did not come even close to that of his behavior. Now it could be that this man had just come back from a hunt, seen something terrible and thus was thrilled and overly nervous, causing him to dance around on the floor as if the latter was comprised of a thin layer of solidified lava with much of the liquid stuff still directly underneath it. Maybe this kind of disorder had already become chronic with the poor lad, but this still didn't explain why he was saying what he was saying. Couldn't that guy see that he was already talking to someone else ?

"Work ? Yeah... you could tell me where the nearest place for a good bath is. A creek or something maybe ? And getting noticed by one's prey can't be that much of a bad idea if you're so excellently trained in... massaging the floor ? Aside from this stinking of the road while actually being on the road is a pretty good obfuscation technique, isn't it ?" Andvari reached for the mead again, consuming the majority of the remainder.

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Andvari

His arrival at Seren's Folly had been anything but pompous. The place Andvari usually lived at - Oriel's palace - was several hundred miles from the village and finding efficient means of transport was quite a little more difficult in his case. After a few traders and travelers had given him a ride on their wagons his luck had ultimately ran out, leaving him with nothing else than his very feet to propel him forwards. His supplies, weapons and other stuff ? Packed into a small cart dragged behimd him. Maybe a bit unorthodox, but much more comfortable than actually carrying all that stuff for an undetermined amount of time. At least the weather had held, allowing him to get into the village in a very tired, but clean condition.

The only problem had been the fact that the average villager wasn't exactly responsive when it came to giving advice to a bloody newcomer in the middle of the night. Andvari had been left to his own devices, resulting in him putting up his tent at a spot that he merely had thought to be a good one. Still a large tent was much more functional for him than a room in the tavern: It cost a huge lot less, he didn't have to worry about making a mess, and there wasn't any furniture he'd either break or feel uncomfortable with. A simple hammock could be quite advantageous...

By now all of this had happened almost a day earlier during which Andvari had been able to get rid of most of his sleep deprivation. Now he was left to wonder if his father's description of Witches' Paradise as an 'incredibly rough place' had actually been meant as an ironic way of saying 'Make getting there your first priority!' instead. While his limbs still felt somewhat sore from the extensive journey, Andvari felt well enough to find out. He had no idea about the recent events in Goldencrest and the impact it had on everyone else.

With a slight limp he trudged towards the place. The large sign was in plain sight, but so was that he once again would have to crouch in order to get in. Even before his hand was able to push the door open completely a surge of odours overwhelmed his nose: Smoke, roasted meat, sweat, but most dominantly alcohol of various kinds. He moved in, trying not to stare at any of the anonymous patrons while expecting the majority of them to stare at him. A slight, but noticeable surge of cold sweat ran down Andvari's spine as he realized that somebody in there might very well be old enough to have known his father. Would anyone theorize about him then ?

He picked up a stool and sat down carefully, trying to find out if the aged wood would actually support him. The next step was to politely ask for a beer. A small portion would have to suffice until he'd have been able to find out if the stuff here was actually worth the money - one could never know. While waiting for his request to be fulfilled Andvari could hardly do anything else than look around and see who else was here. He didn't know any of them.

Dark Streets - Urban Fantasy Noir

If Othen had been a magician whose spells became reality as he thought about them, Sadjic would have found himself nailed against the side window of his luxury sedan with the window lifter turned on in order to make the nails stuck in his flesh hurt even harder. What an nasty, arrogant, slimy scumbag! If the latter paid attention he would be able to see how the gargoyle's eyes narrowed almost to slits for a moment as a cold surge was silently hurling down along his back.

"Teleport ? I would consider that art to be seriously broken. And if I would still be willing to engage in such a lethal endeavour I'd probably not sit here and ask you for the favor to taking me to my place, would I ?"

There was a slight pause as Othen considered what to say next, weighing one possible answer against the others.

"Aside from this, even if I could teleport, how would I have been able to take that poor fellow resting in the pond along with me ? And everyone who has seen me at the scene will also have seen how I hopped into this beautiful car and drove off with you. Helping in a crime is a crime in itself, so I'd say that, at least to a considerable degree, my alibi is your alibi. Or vice versa if you want to replace 'alibi' with 'being suspected groundlessly'."

Then Othen turned his head, allowing himself a few moments of looking forwards out of the front window instead of sideways into Sadjic's face.

"I'd still be very eager to find out who the culprit is, now that we know that it is neither of us. Who'd have any interest in killing one of the leading wizards in this city. I mean... you have excellent connections I'd guess. You probably have access to information the cops don't have."

@Penny

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

An-Hasst let go of a sigh that was almost too calm to be heard by anyone, but still it was a slight indication of him being less than completely relaxed. It seemed than the party was less than fully confident about going on, so in his mind the Skayleigh was already prepared a tiny speech. Something along the lines of: I can only repeat myself: The fact that he just averted a possible threat to the village does not mean that it was the only one waiting for us. I do not avertise the idea that we go on a dedicated magical lizard hunt as that would work against the idea of a general patrol as well, but if anything the presence of this thing here is a clear indication that our job is worth it. We should not discontinue with any kind of 'we're done' feeling right now.

Yet as the Skayleigh was preparing to speak up he could hear hooves thudding on the soft ground. Calanon was carrying on, hopefully taking the remainder of his companion with him metaphorically. "The village we are doing this patrol for is merely a resting point in between on our own journey. We would have to strife through this forests and thus potentially wake up something that would better have been left sleeping anyway. I think we're even better off doing it now while we still have a village we can retreat to."

Fully convinced of himself, An-Hasst marched on, following Brogach's traces. He didn't omit though to turn and look behind himself after a bunch of yards in order to check if, and how, everyone else was still with him.

@Mortarion@Gardevoiran@BCTheEntity@POOHEAD189@Stormflyx@The Fated Fallen

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

<Snipped quote by BCTheEntity>

I think she was asking who's foot it was? I find the best way to identify someone's foot is to stamp on it and see who cries out

@The Fated Fallen

I disagree. Take an umbrella, upgrade it's sharp upper end with a poison injection device, wait until it has rained, walk out using it as a cane, ACCIDENTALLY hit the foot with it very hard, then wait to see who dies some time later.

Totally not referring to real world events...

And I should post, too. Urgently. End of vacation and gaming have screwed up my routine. And I'm trying to find ideas to post.

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Andvari Markat

A N D V A R I M A R K A T

Age
21

Appearance
Andvari's not exactly a beanpole, but he isn't exceptionally muscular either. What's notable though is that he is no less than seven feet, eight inches of it due to the same condition his father had exhibited. He arrived at Seren's Folly in mere traveling clothes, but has brought his training equipment along with him.

Personality
While his life so far technically has been one half at the very bottom of things and the other half being close to the top of them, the former half appears to be the dominating one. He is by no means arrogant, but if allowed to speak he has a tendency to tell people very openly what he thinks, including curses and shit. His mind seems too calculating though to leave the border of the objective often. Education is a thing he could definitely improve in, but intelligence is there for sure. His approach to life is a rather light-hearted one that involves indulging himself in too much alcohol and stuff happily as long as he doesn't run out of money. Risks ? Bring 'em here, but not too many at a time!

History
Andvari, originally born under the surname Hymir, is the only son of his father Andri and his mother Oriel. The night was warm and calm, but the coming together of the two was anything but. Oriel was an incredibly rich noble living in a palace surrounded by gardens very well up to her standards. So was the number of guards, but still the lady later claimed that Andri had just 'appeared' in her bedroom and 'stabbed Rénard with a dagger right away' before disappearing again, none of her guards able to catch up to him. Half of the bed had been soaked with her poor husband's blood as his attacker had known very well where the heart is located at.

The truth she never told for her own sake is quite different though. Oriel had been increasingly unhappy with her relationship. Rénard had become old, a humble shadow of his former attractiveness and male glory. Also he had developed a bad temper, probably due to alcohol playing a more and more important role in his life. In short: She had been all too eager to get rid of him, but just divorcing was not an option since that would have exposed all of this to the public, creating a scandal other nobilities would feast upon with pleasure.

Yet there was a solution to this -- it came in at somewhere over seven feet and a surprising price tag: To spend a night with her in her bed. Whatever must have driven the man that was Andvari's father to the point that he'd ask for this instead of some coins was of very secondary concern to Oriel at that moment. She was very determined and honestly found himself rather charming to begin with. It couldn't be worse than yet another night with Rénard, could it ?

Things went according to plan, the only but no less important exception being that Andri actually knocked her up that night. He didn't notice it and neither could she until she could feel her belly grow. By the time Andvari was born Rénard had already rotten in his grave and the assassin hired for his disposal had traveled elsewhere. Now she had a child to deal with. Hardly a monetary issue for her, but very much so a societal. Not only was he a bastard child, but even more so could revealing his existence allow others to ask very unfortunate questions and to start backtracking things.

Oriel made him move away to another place, a village so poor nobody would think about any noble stepping a foot into. She indeed only did very few times so not to expose herself and allow him to accidentally tell somebody whom he was related to. Also she arranged for a name that was not related to any person really existing: 'Markat' is a product of fantasy, nothing else. Andvari became used to growing up to the servants she had dispatched in order to deal with him. In secrecy he spent his childhood in a golden cage with a few beams broken loose. Him growing up in an imporverished environment and not being able to enjoy her luxury made her heart ache a little, but on the other hand it could only help make people never believe that he had anything to do with her.

Nothing could prepare her carefully laid out plan for the sheer power of randomness though. One day Andri returned. He had no interest in meeting an old client of his, but was merely on his way through the area. Once they saw each other Andvari had no idea that this was his father, but Andri didn't take long to figure out that two giants in the same spot was a little too much for some random coincidence. With Andri having become aware of a mistake made over a decade earlier and being infuriated about how his old client had decided to handle things, Oriel was in for an unpleasant surprise.

He waited for the next event of high-society to happen in her extensive gardens, then dragged Andvari along with himself right to her doorstep. While everyone could see the obvious similarity between the two men and come to his or her own conclusions Oriel knew that just ordering her guards to drive them out would be a very dangerous move: At least the elderly of the two had a particular talent for coming back seemingly out of nowhere and to let go of his aggression. So she decided to deal with the situation otherwise before her reputation would be destroyed in a matter of minutes or even her very life would be at stake.

The solution was to hire both of them as servants, thereby effectively granting Andvari permanent access to both her and his father in a comparably privileged environment while still not telling the truth to anybody. Unfortunately that also exposed Andvari to his father's influence, the latter being all too glad to be able to tell stories about his past and to propagate his knowledge before he'd pass away some day. As Andri grew old and ultimately became ill it seemed that a great burden slowly let go of him. He never told his son what it was, but he warned him never to go to Seren's Folly.

Now what kind of a young adult being Andvari would be if he'd listen to each and every advice given ? It had been time to take a leave from the palace...

Signature weapon
A crossbow that seems to be worth more than the entire remainder of his equipment, if not even vastly exceeding that amount. It appears to be custom-made for him, at least a person smaller than him would encounter some difficulties in handling and rearming efficiently even though weight wouldn't be the issue. The shiny metal parts of it are definitely not gold, but aren't brass or steel either. It is unclear what it is truly comprised off. All he knows is that it's a piece left over by his father and that it is excellent at piercing into or just outright ripping through stuff, perferably organic.

Image

Combat
Acolyte

Spells in the Dark (18+ for Dark and suggestive themes)

Andvari

A N D V A R I M A R K A T

Age
21

Appearance
Andvari's not exactly a beanpole, but he isn't exceptionally muscular either. What's notable though is that he is no less than seven feet, eight inches of it due to the same condition his father had exhibited. He arrived at Seren's Folly in mere traveling clothes, but has brought his training equipment along with him.

Personality
While his life so far technically has been one half at the very bottom of things and the other half being close to the top of them, the former half appears to be the dominating one. He is by no means arrogant, but if allowed to speak he has a tendency to tell people very openly what he thinks, including curses and shit. His mind seems too calculating though to leave the border of the objective often. Education is a thing he could definitely improve in, but intelligence is there for sure. His approach to life is a rather light-hearted one that involves indulging himself in too much alcohol and stuff happily as long as he doesn't run out of money. Risks ? Bring 'em here, but not too many at a time!

History
Andvari, originally born under the surname Hymir, is the only son of his father Andri and his mother Oriel. The night was warm and calm, but the coming together of the two was anything but. Oriel was an incredibly rich noble living in a palace surrounded by gardens very well up to her standards. So was the number of guards, but still the lady later claimed that Andri had just 'appeared' in her bedroom and 'stabbed Rénard with a dagger right away' before disappearing again, none of her guards able to catch up to him. Half of the bed had been soaked with her poor husband's blood as his attacker had known very well where the heart is located at.

The truth she never told for her own sake is quite different though. Oriel had been increasingly unhappy with her relationship. Rénard had become old, a humble shadow of his former attractiveness and male glory. Also he had developed a bad temper, probably due to alcohol playing a more and more important role in his life. In short: She had been all too eager to get rid of him, but just divorcing was not an option since that would have exposed all of this to the public, creating a scandal other nobilities would feast upon with pleasure.

Yet there was a solution to this -- it came in at somewhere over seven feet and a surprising price tag: To spend a night with her in her bed. Whatever must have driven the man that was Andvari's father to the point that he'd ask for this instead of some coins was of very secondary concern to Oriel at that moment. She was very determined and honestly found himself rather charming to begin with. It couldn't be worse than yet another night with Rénard, could it ?

Things went according to plan, the only but no less important exception being that Andri actually knocked her up that night. He didn't notice it and neither could she until she could feel her belly grow. By the time Andvari was born Rénard had already rotten in his grave and the assassin hired for his disposal had traveled elsewhere. Now she had a child to deal with. Hardly a monetary issue for her, but very much so a societal. Not only was he a bastard child, but even more so could revealing his existence allow others to ask very unfortunate questions and to start backtracking things.

Oriel made him move away to another place, a village so poor nobody would think about any noble stepping a foot into. She indeed only did very few times so not to expose herself and allow him to accidentally tell somebody whom he was related to. Also she arranged for a name that was not related to any person really existing: 'Markat' is a product of fantasy, nothing else. Andvari became used to growing up to the servants she had dispatched in order to deal with him. In secrecy he spent his childhood in a golden cage with a few beams broken loose. Him growing up in an imporverished environment and not being able to enjoy her luxury made her heart ache a little, but on the other hand it could only help make people never believe that he had anything to do with her.

Nothing could prepare her carefully laid out plan for the sheer power of randomness though. One day Andri returned. He had no interest in meeting an old client of his, but was merely on his way through the area. Once they saw each other Andvari had no idea that this was his father, but Andri didn't take long to figure out that two giants in the same spot was a little too much for some random coincidence. With Andri having become aware of a mistake made over a decade earlier and being infuriated about how his old client had decided to handle things, Oriel was in for an unpleasant surprise.

He waited for the next event of high-society to happen in her extensive gardens, then dragged Andvari along with himself right to her doorstep. While everyone could see the obvious similarity between the two men and come to his or her own conclusions Oriel knew that just ordering her guards to drive them out would be a very dangerous move: At least the elderly of the two had a particular talent for coming back seemingly out of nowhere and to let go of his aggression. So she decided to deal with the situation otherwise before her reputation would be destroyed in a matter of minutes or even her very life would be at stake.

The solution was to hire both of them as servants, thereby effectively granting Andvari permanent access to both her and his father in a comparably privileged environment while still not telling the truth to anybody. Unfortunately that also exposed Andvari to his father's influence, the latter being all too glad to be able to tell stories about his past and to propagate his knowledge before he'd pass away some day. As Andri grew old and ultimately became ill it seemed that a great burden slowly let go of him. He never told his son what it was, but he warned him never to go to Seren's Folly.

Now what kind of a young adult being Andvari would be if he'd listen to each and every advice given ? It had been time to take a leave from the palace...

Signature weapon
A crossbow that seems to be worth more than the entire remainder of his equipment, if not even vastly exceeding that amount. It appears to be custom-made for him, at least a person smaller than him would encounter some difficulties in handling and rearming efficiently even though weight wouldn't be the issue. The shiny metal parts of it are definitely not gold, but aren't brass or steel either. It is unclear what it is truly comprised off. All he knows is that it's a piece left over by his father and that it is excellent at piercing into or just outright ripping through stuff, perferably organic.

Image

Combat
Acolyte