tex

The Faraway Land

YAY I'M NOT THE TINIEST ORC!

Scattered Shades: Arcadia Chronicles

Posting -tonight-

Scattered Shades: Arcadia Chronicles

Posting tomorrow. Advancing all plot Branches.

The Faraway Land

Ventus shifted slowly in place. They approached from everywhere- All sides, with no gaps in their formation, despite how disjointed their numbers were. That's all they had over him, really. Numbers. That's all anyone who didn't deserve power had, the allegiance of imbeciles and cowards who's desires drove them on instinct alone. Beasts incapable of introspection were doomed in a world like this, but those who found themselves outside of allegiance shared a similar fate. Ventus knew that, it didn't bother him. He was practically dead already. A redundant chill echoed through his body in waves as the war band closed in on him. Each monotonous beat of his heart lined up perfectly with his analysis of the onlookers. Unusually calm, Ventus used it to coordinate his strikes, like a metronome, ducking below the first battleaxe and drawing his dagger. Firmly gripped in his left hand, Ventus spun leftwards and flicked his arm towards the grunts neck. A stream of crimson lashed out, and the orc fell forwards. Ventus hopped to the side, pushing his unusually lithe Orcish body away from where his first kill fell, and towards another attacker, who seemed unprepared for his agility. The second Orc had his battleaxe drawn, prepared to swing it overhead, but that left a painfully wide opening that almost prompted hysteria in Ventus. It was laughable, these idiots had no idea how to fight. They were barbarians! But as Ventus flipped his dagger around, and slashed at the second Orc's throat, the rest of the war-band grouped up more tightly than before. Two free kills, that's all he could manage? Ventus hopped past the second orc, to his right as his second mark lost his hold on the battleaxe he wielded, and behind him by the time he'd fallen to the ground. Ventus sprinted past the thinnest ranks, towards Ungrog himself. But with so many Orcs between him and the chief, there was no guarantee that he'd reach his target.

Ventus dodged deftly, ducking low in his sprint, below a high axe swing, and using his dagger to parry another attack that came from in front of him. He used the hilt of his blade, and twisted his body around the oncoming axe swing, using its momentum to dig his right hand straight into the attacker's throat, nails first. Ventus kept his 'claws' sharpened, and although they weren't the cleanest or deadliest weapons in his arsenal, the unsuspecting Orc wouldn't pay much mind to such a barbaric attack. His third kill slowed him down, enough for several orcs to surround him from all sides. Ventus spun his body a full 360 degrees to survey his surroundings, counting 4 immediate threats, all wielding similar axes. Brutish, inaccurate weapons Ventus thought. He pulled his bloodied hand from his prior attacker during his spin, and flicked the blood towards one of his newest attackers, striking his eyes. It didn't stop his momentum, but Ventus dashed towards him, past the killzone of his axe, and pushed his way behind the Orc, using him as a shield while one of his brethren lashed out towards Ventus. The fourth kill was not Ventus' to take, as one of the orc's own allies cleaved into his shoulder blade with reckless abandon. The power from the attack did however push Ventus back, but he manages to stand his ground, pushing away from the cleaved Orc, and towards another attacked that rushed him from behind. Ventus paused and looked towards the warband's flank. "Reinforcements?" He muttered, barely sifting past the oncoming orc's ace swing with a shift of his body weight. His thoughts pushed him of balance, however, forcing him to trip, and fall into a clumsy roll. Although the uneven ground didn't put him in a lethal position, Ventus was unable to completely dodge the next attack that headed for his person. He felt the sting of steel slice through his right arm, at least an inch deep, before he was able to return to his feet. Suddenly he was out of position, and out of luck.

"Only four.. Haha.."

Ventus sighed as he continued to shift his was around several more attacks, unable to counter with his ego wounded so thoroughly. He could do without an arm, but letting himself get distracted twice in one day?

Maybe he deserved to go out like a coward.

The Faraway Land

Posting nowish

The Faraway Land

Sweet

The Faraway Land

@Thinslayer

Years of experience tracking the beasts of his lands, fallen before him in shambles. Had it really been that long since Ventus had been across Fellmore? The air stung his nostrils, dry and tainted with the blood of his brothers, long expired and robbed of its essence. Much like his fate, Fellmore was seemingly without hope, and doomed to an eternity in darkness. How could he have been so stupid? He didn't account for the ashen landscape dulling his senses, or the weather to reveal his path. Subterfuge and critical advantages, his two most deadly weapons, were stripped from him before the battle had even begun. Just like he'd always said, strike first, strike once. Ventus did not often strike second, and rarely escaped such circumstances without a parting memory in the form of frayed flesh.

Ungrog grunted something in his direction. Ventus ignored it, still sizing up the war band that had cornered him so profusely. At least 60 men, probably a lot more, and all armed. Orcish warriors, though brutal and dull, were more than a match for him in such tightly packed numbers. His agility and precision meant nothing, but that didn't mean he was about to lie down and accept death like a dog at the hands of Ungrog, that miserable neanderthal. Ventus looked towards the chieftain with a nervous thirst stabbing at this back of his throat. 'I could kill 20, perhaps 25' Ventus thought, picking his targets carefully, with Ungrog among them. He gently rapped at the top of his kilt with his left hand, feeling for the base of a blade he treasured dearly. 172 confirmed kills, his Ebony dagger, forged for the purpose of silent and seamless murder. Assassination. Blood slipped off its onyx surface like oil, leaving the blade clean after every death. Just how many throats could he slit before Ungrog or one of his pathetic minions violently brought their weapons into his own flesh?

'23, most certainly. Perhaps more. An unsatisfying end, without honor'

Ventus sighed and looked up to Ungrog, flattening his left palm against the hilt of his weapon. "Just who do I betray with my actions? Uprooting villainous scum from pedestals of power, albeit for soaked gold. Is that not a product of my allegiance to the people who know no freedom or joy? Spare me your biased conjecture, brute. I may die here, but I will take my fair share of justice, right out of your hide," Ventus spat, haphazardly. The moment an Orc lost its rational was the moment his heart tripled in size. Major arteries swelled, blood pumped at an alarming pace, and with a few careful slices, a berserk Orc would bleed out ten times faster than usual. Such a simple plan B when dealing with simple fools, but was Ungrog just as feeble as the hundreds that followed him or his cause? It didn't matter, death was moments away. Ventus was just eager to earn it.

The Faraway Land

Wait a moment, are there actually very few Orc PCs?

Scattered Shades: Arcadia Chronicles

@LokiLeo789@Hatman1801

Gonna need you two to post by Wednesday night. If not, I'll be taking control of your characters briefly, and I would prefer not to have to do that.

Scattered Shades: Arcadia Chronicles

null