@Verdaux

Erjak stared at the inebriated defenders for a few moment before turning his sight towards Kahl and grinned briefly and hearing the word subjugated before turning towards the defenders with a glare that would make even fellow orcs cower. He drew as much breath in as he could let out the loudest, most inhuman roar he could muster, he figured the drunken fighters would probably surrender, after all, nobody here wanted to die and he did not want to kill elves if he could help it, it would leave a bad taste in his mouth if he had to.

"IF ANY OF YOU RESIST, I WILL PERSONALLY MAKE SURE TO CLEAVE YOU ALL IN HALF, OR MY NAME IS NOT ERJAK THE SAVAGE!" he roared, he figured the elves might have heard of him, he often led bloody raids into the elven lands near Yoit, in one of those raids he had gotten a hold of his dear former friend.

Still, if the elves chose to resist, he was already prepared to swing his battleaxe at them and hoped that the first few deaths would cow the few remaining elves into submission, if not... his bloody beserker rage would definitely make short work of them, it had dealt with a dozen battle-hardened orcs, he figured that it would deal with a few drunken elves armed with makeshift blunt weaponry, he was confident in his skills, he was not sure of Kahl however, he had not seen him fight yet... hopefully he would prove to be a powerful warrior and one he could confidently call brother.

@Thinslayer

A wall, designed to keep out invaders, protect those inside, a place where watchmen could sight danger before it came, but most importantly the first line of defense when it came to to invasion. Still for as impressive a structure it was, it had limits to what it could keep out. If the Invaders felt brave they could besiege the wall with rope or ladder to try and preserve it if they intended on taking the city. Perhaps they could make a small hole and funnel people in quietly, or in the case of the Orc’s break down a sizable chunk and push in full force.

Alarus, on the other hand, had decided instead of directly rushing into battle it was best the Mage move undetected while she did her best to manipulate the battlefield. Sublet things were sometimes the most important aspect of a fight and in her case it was moving around the back lines, ‘recovering’ biomass for her more, zealous, hobby of changing people to make them more suitable for battle. Or take out threats that would become harder to handle later.

By the Orc’s ideals what she did would be considered cowardly for not looking another warrior in the eye when killing them, but she was by no means strong enough to take on another in a -fair- fight with someone trained in the art of war. Instead she did was instinct and self preservation had trained her kind to do long before the Warlock altered their DNA. She took to the earth. Making an underground walkway by moving the dirt and rock around. Of course it wasn’t perfect but with a slight change to her own DNA and adding a little more density to her claws made them perfect for the job at hand, Tunneling. As for when she knew to reach up and take someone under, well her eyes weren't left unchanged.

So far she had already taken a good few of the City's defenders underground only leaving their heads exposed while they screamed from the rended flesh and consumption that happened below. Only a handful managed to be pulled back up from the head huntresses grip, but none escaped her in full. Legs, arms, and for the rare few fingers and toes. At this point she was more or less collecting food so she could keep going and offhandedly taking in samples of biomass for mutations and alterations. Yet as her little hunt kept going the guardsmen got wise and quickly called in for the City’s Magic uses to look for her underground.

Not being the fool and after nearly losing her tail to a mage with a keen eye she decided the little game of hide and seek best be put to rest before it cost her more than she could bare to lose in a siege. Getting behind the enemy lines as quickly and quietly as she could the Kobold emerged from her tunnel work different than before. Instead of the smooth scaled body she had, it was now rough and coarse with spines arched backwards, jetting from her back. A simple alteration of her natural DNA resulted in a harder more efficient means to handle the tunneling and rending of metal and flesh. It did have it’s downsides, for now she looked more feral and deranged as opposed to the normally calm and ‘harmless’ look. Still at least she was clothed, or at least what she counted as clothed. Enough cover on the top wrappings around the mid, arms to hands, and legs down as well as her skull which she was never without.

Going behind one of the homes she quickly peaked around to make sure no one had spotted her yet then quickly slipped in, however she soon found she was not alone in the wood be abandoned section of town. A Youth from the looks of it, one who seemed to be able to wield a weapon and shield. Perhaps too young for what he was looking at, an abomination created out of augmentation. Still what stood out to her wasn’t the fact he seemed competent enough to raise a blade to her, but the marking on his hand. Something felt amiss, the marking seemed to imply something that nagged at her mind, for what little it held with the boys survival changes against her at the moment. It was like a dog who had come across a dragon with nothing more than fangs and a loud bark.

Taking a deep breath she decided it was best to drop the mono-tone for just a moment if anything perhaps she could dissuade the boy into lowering his armaments. With the calmest, animated voice she could muster given the light of the moment she looked at the child.

“I would sway thine arms youth. A Shaman of the hills seek shelter from the moment. Would thee allow me a moment of inquiry, why are thine here and a name, if I may be so bold?”

For the most part, Morkus wasn't have that hard a time. Attacking places was nothing new to him after all that time he spent with his old warband. And with his exceptional physical prowess, he cut through the defenders like a hot knife through butter. Soon enough, Morkus reached his 1st house and kicked down its door to begin his search for occupants to kill. Morkus didn't have to search for long. He quickly found a swordsman standing ready to defend his family, with his wife acting as the last line of defense should her husband fall.

Weapons drawn, Morkus charged forwards, jumped into the air, and brought his swords down on the swordsman, who blocked Morkus' blades with his own. Morkus attempted to knee the swordsman in the groin with bone breaking force while he was distracted, but the swordsman had anticipated this. Instead of causing the swordsman debilitating pain, a steel groin guard rendered the underhanded tactic useless

Seizing the opportunity, the swordsman pushed Morkus away and then charged forwards in an attempt to skewer the orc. Morkus deflected the blade and ducked the sucker punch the swordsman attempted before preemptively rolling away from any counter attack Morkus might have made otherwise.

Now understandably bothered by this turn of events, Morkus began to slash at the swordsman from all possible directions. The swordsman stood his ground and blocked all incoming blows like they were nothing.

Noticing an opening as Morkus' slashing frenzy ended, the swordsman began a slashing frenzy of his own. However, Morkus was just as good at blocking as the swordsman.

Upon noticing a subtle opening, Morkus moved in for a decapitating blow. But the swordsman reacted quickly enough to duck Morkus' blades and slash at the orc's stomach. Morkus managed to move away quickly enough to avoid the blade though.

Capitalizing on Morkus' backwards motion, the swordsman advanced on the orc, the 2 continuing to trade blows as they moved about the room. A few rounds later, the swordsman made a face like he had just thought of something and began to prioritize pushing Morkus back. Lacking the intelligence necessary to decipher facial expression meanings or detect unexpected traps while focusing on combat, Morkus took the bait and backed up until he was struck on the back of the head by a blunt object and sent sprawling onto the floor.

The blow Morkus had received made the sound in his head even louder than usual. He even thought he could make out a voice, but he couldn't make out what it was saying if that was indeed a voice. When he got up, the swordsman and his family were gone. Morkus searched the entire room, but they were nowhere to be found. "Must have run off" Morkus said to himself as he left the house, not once thinking that he should also check the other rooms.

@Delta44 The elven blacksmith gaped at him for a moment. Then she closed her mouth and ran past him without another word.
@Verdaux@Claw2k11 The sober patrons were already parsing every word he said. If any of them resisted, all of them would be killed. Not a promising deal, given that half the patrons were drunk and itching for a fight. So all of them took up arms and rushed the enemy. Bottles, chairs, clubs, and swords came swinging at the two orcs.
@rush99999 The rest of the family had, in fact, run out of the house entirely, and they escaped with the elven blacksmith.
@Darkwatck01 "W- With my- with my grandparents." He declined to provide a name.

Gorman, meanwhile, tore a human spearfighter away from the corpse of another orc and ripped his head off with a sickening crack. When the blood shower cleared, he noticed a couple members of his warband letting their targets run away. He overheard Erjak shout a warning to the bar patrons. Gorman clenched his fist. Spirits slay him if he let those traitorous orcs get away with that.

Starting with Alarus. He gripped her by the top of her skull and grumbled, "Just what do you think you're doing?"

Feeling her head get pulled back and turned to face her current ‘leader’ she didn’t make a noise, outside of a few popping bones from the stiffness she had from tunnelling. It was one thing to be at a distance and looking into those blank holes of nothing, quite another to be face to face and touching it. Of course the Orc could feel something, faint as it was, but that something was the slow rhythmic beat of her heart. Her naturally cold tone returning to her voice as she spoke to the creature that had her.

“Murder, survival. Killing and eating. Research continues despite, current set back.”

She didn’t really have a tone of mallus or intent, nor even that of sarcasm, however her intent was there. This child before her was never going to survive when she got close, let alone get away. A lone child with not but a butter knife and a small wooden disk it could barely manage to hold. It was a threat, yet small still a threat and all threats big or small needed to be resolved for they might interrupt her work.

With her head still turned away from the boy she smiled slightly. Her current form, despite being more brutish did provide a nice set for fighting, how her leader recognized her was given away by the skull itself. Slowly she reached up and held the headpiece, lowering her body to remove the skill. The sight, was something from a graveyard.

Returning to full hunched over height the shaman looked at her captain, what that skull hid was all but right. An eldritch abomination would have described it more accurately. Perhaps another unforeseen side effect of collecting DNA, or sorting it onto one's own, either way what looked back at the man was another skull, with bits of flesh and tendons attached at the jaw and neck to move it around. While her mouth still functioned to feed and nourish, and eyes that still could see the world, what was found in her teeth was the strange part. A sister stone to the one she used for casting, planted right in her jaw, in the fleshy tissue that still persisted if only to hold the teeth in place.

She was no reanimation that was sure, and every design she did was for purpose not for looks, this however was the main reason the skull was used to hide her face, or more accurately hide it. Turning to the child she opened her jaw slightly as her tongue licked across the exposed teeth.

“Flesh for nourishment, mass for research. This is my work.”

That monotone voice and unwavering intent escaped those eyes. Long had any sense of competition been dead in that gaze, on the insatiable hunger for advancing her craft.

She could've fixed the problem with her face, but deemed it useless for her ends. Perfection was impossible, but one could always chase it.

After dealing with the archers that were on the turret, there was just a bloody mess around Sen. She then proceeded to move along the remainder of the wall that wasn't broken down, taking care to kill any soldiers that got in her path. She may have had a small frame, but her agility and deftness with a dagger ensured that anyone in her path, even ones in bulky armor, would find their necks being slit when they confronted her.

"Die... Die, die, die..." Nothing could stop her bloodshed, not even a lone arrow in her shoulder. Much like the archer that grazed her cheek, the archer that shot the arrow would soon die as a result. These elves had been killing off her kind for many years, treating her kin as vermin and pests. What an ironic twist of faith that the 'pest' would be slaughtering the killers. Sen was a killer through and through and didn't care for the life of those she killed. Family? Friends? A career past being a soldier? She didn't care, she was a killer, nothing more nothing less, these elves were just unfortunate enough to be her targets.

Gorman stood back and watched the town go up in flames. Tomas stood with him, arms crossed, silent as always. As the warriors returned from battle carrying the spoils they'd saved, Gorman's eyes narrowed. His own squad had underperformed. Some of them were caught letting their targets go for one excuse or another, and it angered him. They weren't there when the alliance of humans, elves, and dwarves slaughtered his kin like they were livestock. They weren't there when the "heroes" decapitated women and children and celebrated it as a "righteous victory." These townsfolk didn't deserve mercy.

Then again, his warriors weren't there. They hadn't seen the atrocities committed firsthand. They couldn't be blamed for their inability to time travel. Gorman took a deep breath and closed his eyes to calm his temper. If no one else understood, Tomas did. Tomas was one of the few survivors of the massacre, and though he wasn't part of Gorman's army at the time, their shared experience brought them together as friends. He couldn't speak, or even read, but his unwavering loyalty struck a chord in the old Captain's heart.

Could Erjak teach him to read?

Gorman pushed all other thoughts aside as his warriors drew within shouting distance. "REPORT ALL YOUR SPOILS AND PILE THEM BEHIND ME! THEN LINE UP FOR DEBRIEFING!"

Aside from that encounter with the family, Morkus had little problem carrying out his orders for the rest of the battle. Morkus found no other civilians that day, only soldiers who were somewhat less skilled than the swordsman who had been protecting his wife and children from Morkus. But the difference in skill between the swordsman and the other soldiers went completely unnoticed by Morkus. Even if he wasn't too lacking in mental capacity to notice or too focused on carving a path through all that opposed him, Morkus still wouldn't have any spare brain cells that weren't dedicated to thinking about the noise in his head at the time. When he was hit on the back of the head, the noise sounded like a muffled voice for some reason. Morkus couldn't make out what it was saying though, and the noise soon went back to normal.

After the battle was over, Morkus just wondered about the place for a while. Having quickly forgotten about the noise during the fight, Morkus was now trying to think of what he was going to do now. He had yet to receive anymore orders and there was no one left to kill, so Morkus was kind of at a loss for what he should do next. But his problem soon solved itself when he heard Gorman barking more orders. Once the captain was done shouting, Morkus went and stood where he thought the debriefing line was going to form. He had no spoils to report since he had only been ordered to search every house and kill every living thing he found. As a result, the thought of looting and pillage never even crossed the mentally challenged orc's mind.

No spoils where had, none that held value to anyone other than her. Perhaps the way she implemented this treasure of hers wasn’t the best but no one was complaining, not yet anyway. Walking up to the Gorman's line her skull moved on its own, at her normal head height while her body slowly dug out of the ground, only to have it fall down covering her face once more before she fully emerged. Seemed having those old traits turned on made for a good way to move around.

“Time wasted, pointless.”

Clawing her way out of the ground completely she just sat down not even bothing to even try and stand at attention. It was, to her atleast, pointless for all this was doing was taking away from her research time. Things she could be doing to make them better, perhaps she could use her new strands she made on this team. While she contemplated these ideas the sound of a bone snapping came from her unseen maw. Chewing on the fragments might of given off a bad air as she was eating, in really she was taking in the essence of the bone for whatever creature it belong to.

“It is time for change, make better, more efficient.”

Her cold voice said as she held out a few items of distasteful rewards, in her mind they were worth more then anything that pile of riches they looted had. It was the idea of change, making them better, stronger, more adapt at the current goal.

Returning her attention to Gorman she kept chewing and waited for his next word. For tonight was the night she was going to start taking samples from her ‘squad’. Regardless if they liked it or night.