Zapdos
op2024
Rhona W
Noctis
Snowdrops
Teyao
ODAberration
Ivar
KensaiFinally posted! Hope you all enjoy it.
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Just here to have a good time.
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Ink drips onto the coarse paper, and the metal blade of the pen weaves it into words, symbols, and images. The book's pages turn, and in her mind's eye, she reads from it, unable to tear her eyes away...
Alison's eyes opened again, her breathing somewhat calmer, the pain in her stomach lessening. Glancing down at her right hand, the Source crystal glowed, a dark purple radiating softly from the mystical stone. Something had changed, and she felt different than just moments before. Her body was lighter, her arms, stronger, and most importantly of all, the vision again returned to that book.
As if the very instructions of that new incantation were inscribed onto her very being, Alison could feel the voice stronger now than ever before.
It was time to end this.
Captian Hrond stalked through the warehouse, cursing. The air was thick with Source, practically smothering everything around him. It sickened him and the relish of finally getting this kill was made all the stronger. The thick Source, however, failed to hide his prey as it had in the alley. His Luna state allowed him to cut through the mirage of scents and zero in on her. He could hear her heavy breath, and smell the life blood draining from the wound his claws had created. Yes, there was no escape now.
He rounded on the pile of wood and saw his prey. The desperate woman had activated her cloak, and to an untrained pup, she'd probably slip by, but not to Hrond. The cloak shimmered slightly, hunched in the corner. Blood pooled just below it, and its camouflage continued to flicker as heavy breathing came from underneath. He grinned and stalked forward, claws bared.
"It was a good chase, prey. It has been many moons since my blood has been raised so high. But your life ends here now. No more tricks, no more traps. You've lost to the overwhelming might of the Luna Clan, of Captain Hrond." Hrond boasted as he came up behind the hunched figure. He grabbed the shoulder and yanked back, ready to take the woman's head, when shock, then anger filled his mind.
Before him was a tattered cloak, blood, and the sound of heavy breathing, but nobody! His ears flicked and whirled as he heard the rushing of footsteps, but again, nothing!
"Gah-!"
"Well, it seems I've been volunteered. I just came with a friend to check out the place, and now I'm here." Alison said with a shrug. She let her hands then rest on her hips as she continued. "Miss Shields tells me you with our Guild and have been cooking up some new gadgets that might be useful to us. So what kind of developments are we talking about here?"
Titus looked up again from his work, the thin man nodding. "I have been granted access to several resources otherwise outside the guild's... means... but even still, we have little time to capitalize on it." he gestured firstly to a large box sitting on a wooden table, surrounded by what seemed to be pipes capped with cloth and fuses sticking out the back. "We've always struggled with the more armored types in our line of work, I have developed solutions with what little we have and even less time. This is a launcher of sorts. Bolts encased in firepepper pulp mixed in lamp oil with striking-steel shavings. We can make a few of these, use them carefully, and set entire cavalry regiments to flames..." he finished.
"And that? The piece you're currently working on?" Alison said, gesturing to his work table. Titus gave a small smile and nodded to her.
"Well, Miss Walker, the Guildmaster authorized this for you. Keeping in our problem, I have developed a... novel solution," he said, stepping back to let her take a closer look...
Alison watched as the Captain was distracted by her new ability. She lept down from atop the woodpile and landed behind him. At that moment, she saw it. Something instinctual clicked and it was as if the Source itself guided her swing as she slammed her left fist into the center of the captain's back. As she did so, the cloth unraveled around her arm, revealing a strange machine. With a loud and heavy "whump", a charge was detonated and a steel stake shot forward. It pieced through the wolfman's plate, then his flesh, before causing a dent in the front plate from the sheer impact.
The wolfman let out a gurgled cry as, with a click and then a hiss, Alison retracted the steel stake. The wolfman fell to his knees, staring down at the large dent in his armor. His eyes widened as he saw the blood dripping from his mouth. Alison stepped back, pulled another charge from her belt, and loaded it into the gauntlet. The cartridge locked into place as she stepped around the kneeling wolfman to face him. The wolfman began to chuckle before coughing.
"You think this is over? We are already in the city, as I die, the Luna Clan is still hun-" Another bang sounded as a stake shot through the wolfman's temple and out the other end.
Alison stumbled back a few steps and slid down the side of the warehouse wall, staring at the wolfman's corpse for a moment then looking down at the piledriver on her arm, dripping with blood and brainmatter. Shaking her head, she rose and began slowly making her way back towards the larger fight at the walls.
It wasn't over.
"NOW OLAF! GET BACK!" Pete roared as he lept behind the cart. An explosion, followed by several more, ripped through the previously quiet camp. Night became day as the incendiary explosives detonated on the food stores, weapon depots, and even tent rows of the invading army. Debris flew everywhere and Pete yelped as a burning turnip landed on his shoulder. Olaf quickly batted out the flame as Pete cursed profusely.
"Ya'd think this undead army wouldn't need so much damn food." Olaf grumbled.
"Yous think so... ows the slaves. We got em on the run?" Pete said, brushing the last of the burnt vegetable off him. Olaf nodded. "We got most of em out. Guards got wise. Took casualties, but you'd be amazed watching what recently freed, armed, and cornered slaves can do to an undead soldier. Seen wild dogs with less tenacity. Anyway, once they overwhelmed the rest of the garrison, they scattered. Only a few stayed to help and fight." Olaf said shaking his head. Pete shivered, but his face smiled into a cruel grin.
"They likes us. Backed into a corner, nufin we can do but tear em limb from limb. Shame they didn't wanna taste some more, but glad we ave a few." he said. Before he could say anymore, a scout came running up, breathless.
"Sirs! They noticed finally. We got half the damn general's guard and Death Riders coming for us! Just heard their horns blow." he finished. Pete nodded and turned to the rest of the gathering raiders.
"Right then! Steady lads, wez got ourselves some big game tonight! Barkley, take your squad and get up in the trees on the south side. Lasil, the mines been set? Good. Get your men into whatever tents weren't burned and wait. Olaf, take the sharpshooters to the East side and wait for em death riders tu land. Givem a good ole welcome. As for the rest of yous lot. H'ope you wazn't plannin on survin, cause when them mines go, we go in on the guards. Whoever gets that posh gen's ed gets a free drinks fo life in the afterlife on me! Lets go!" Pete finished, pointing his long, bloody dagger into the sky. The raiders cheered before dashing off to their positions.
Mines were set, Titus's Wonderous Box of Flames (trademark pending) was set up, and the ambush was laid. Now all that was left was the trap to be sprung.
Alison's eyes opened again, her breathing somewhat calmer, the pain in her stomach lessening. Glancing down at her right hand, the Source crystal glowed, a dark purple radiating softly from the mystical stone. Something had changed, and she felt different than just moments before. Her body was lighter, her arms, stronger, and most importantly of all, the vision again returned to that book.
As if the very instructions of that new incantation were inscribed onto her very being, Alison could feel the voice stronger now than ever before.
It was time to end this.
Captian Hrond stalked through the warehouse, cursing. The air was thick with Source, practically smothering everything around him. It sickened him and the relish of finally getting this kill was made all the stronger. The thick Source, however, failed to hide his prey as it had in the alley. His Luna state allowed him to cut through the mirage of scents and zero in on her. He could hear her heavy breath, and smell the life blood draining from the wound his claws had created. Yes, there was no escape now.
He rounded on the pile of wood and saw his prey. The desperate woman had activated her cloak, and to an untrained pup, she'd probably slip by, but not to Hrond. The cloak shimmered slightly, hunched in the corner. Blood pooled just below it, and its camouflage continued to flicker as heavy breathing came from underneath. He grinned and stalked forward, claws bared.
"It was a good chase, prey. It has been many moons since my blood has been raised so high. But your life ends here now. No more tricks, no more traps. You've lost to the overwhelming might of the Luna Clan, of Captain Hrond." Hrond boasted as he came up behind the hunched figure. He grabbed the shoulder and yanked back, ready to take the woman's head, when shock, then anger filled his mind.
Before him was a tattered cloak, blood, and the sound of heavy breathing, but nobody! His ears flicked and whirled as he heard the rushing of footsteps, but again, nothing!
"Gah-!"
"Well, it seems I've been volunteered. I just came with a friend to check out the place, and now I'm here." Alison said with a shrug. She let her hands then rest on her hips as she continued. "Miss Shields tells me you with our Guild and have been cooking up some new gadgets that might be useful to us. So what kind of developments are we talking about here?"
Titus looked up again from his work, the thin man nodding. "I have been granted access to several resources otherwise outside the guild's... means... but even still, we have little time to capitalize on it." he gestured firstly to a large box sitting on a wooden table, surrounded by what seemed to be pipes capped with cloth and fuses sticking out the back. "We've always struggled with the more armored types in our line of work, I have developed solutions with what little we have and even less time. This is a launcher of sorts. Bolts encased in firepepper pulp mixed in lamp oil with striking-steel shavings. We can make a few of these, use them carefully, and set entire cavalry regiments to flames..." he finished.
"And that? The piece you're currently working on?" Alison said, gesturing to his work table. Titus gave a small smile and nodded to her.
"Well, Miss Walker, the Guildmaster authorized this for you. Keeping in our problem, I have developed a... novel solution," he said, stepping back to let her take a closer look...
Alison watched as the Captain was distracted by her new ability. She lept down from atop the woodpile and landed behind him. At that moment, she saw it. Something instinctual clicked and it was as if the Source itself guided her swing as she slammed her left fist into the center of the captain's back. As she did so, the cloth unraveled around her arm, revealing a strange machine. With a loud and heavy "whump", a charge was detonated and a steel stake shot forward. It pieced through the wolfman's plate, then his flesh, before causing a dent in the front plate from the sheer impact.
The wolfman let out a gurgled cry as, with a click and then a hiss, Alison retracted the steel stake. The wolfman fell to his knees, staring down at the large dent in his armor. His eyes widened as he saw the blood dripping from his mouth. Alison stepped back, pulled another charge from her belt, and loaded it into the gauntlet. The cartridge locked into place as she stepped around the kneeling wolfman to face him. The wolfman began to chuckle before coughing.
"You think this is over? We are already in the city, as I die, the Luna Clan is still hun-" Another bang sounded as a stake shot through the wolfman's temple and out the other end.
Alison stumbled back a few steps and slid down the side of the warehouse wall, staring at the wolfman's corpse for a moment then looking down at the piledriver on her arm, dripping with blood and brainmatter. Shaking her head, she rose and began slowly making her way back towards the larger fight at the walls.
It wasn't over.
"NOW OLAF! GET BACK!" Pete roared as he lept behind the cart. An explosion, followed by several more, ripped through the previously quiet camp. Night became day as the incendiary explosives detonated on the food stores, weapon depots, and even tent rows of the invading army. Debris flew everywhere and Pete yelped as a burning turnip landed on his shoulder. Olaf quickly batted out the flame as Pete cursed profusely.
"Ya'd think this undead army wouldn't need so much damn food." Olaf grumbled.
"Yous think so... ows the slaves. We got em on the run?" Pete said, brushing the last of the burnt vegetable off him. Olaf nodded. "We got most of em out. Guards got wise. Took casualties, but you'd be amazed watching what recently freed, armed, and cornered slaves can do to an undead soldier. Seen wild dogs with less tenacity. Anyway, once they overwhelmed the rest of the garrison, they scattered. Only a few stayed to help and fight." Olaf said shaking his head. Pete shivered, but his face smiled into a cruel grin.
"They likes us. Backed into a corner, nufin we can do but tear em limb from limb. Shame they didn't wanna taste some more, but glad we ave a few." he said. Before he could say anymore, a scout came running up, breathless.
"Sirs! They noticed finally. We got half the damn general's guard and Death Riders coming for us! Just heard their horns blow." he finished. Pete nodded and turned to the rest of the gathering raiders.
"Right then! Steady lads, wez got ourselves some big game tonight! Barkley, take your squad and get up in the trees on the south side. Lasil, the mines been set? Good. Get your men into whatever tents weren't burned and wait. Olaf, take the sharpshooters to the East side and wait for em death riders tu land. Givem a good ole welcome. As for the rest of yous lot. H'ope you wazn't plannin on survin, cause when them mines go, we go in on the guards. Whoever gets that posh gen's ed gets a free drinks fo life in the afterlife on me! Lets go!" Pete finished, pointing his long, bloody dagger into the sky. The raiders cheered before dashing off to their positions.
Mines were set, Titus's Wonderous Box of Flames (trademark pending) was set up, and the ambush was laid. Now all that was left was the trap to be sprung.
Post coming tomorrow, or I guess, later today. Been an overwhelming week for uh, a lot of reasons.
The dagger clattered to the ground in front of Alison as she clutched her freshly wounded hand. It was a bad cut, running across the back of her hand, but if she hadn't pulled back then, Alison suspected she'd be clutching at a stump. Her whole body ached, and now she had an inkling of how a chew toy might have felt. That damn captain had thrown her around like a ragdoll and it was any wonder she had maintained consciousness. But the pain was soon forgotten as the blade slid in front of her. Alison looked up, stared, blinked twice, and picked up the blade as she stood.
Was he stupid? Why on this alien world would you ever give back a weapon to your enemy?! The ego of this wolfman utterly took Alison aback.
Captain Hrond growled in... satisfaction. It seemed his prey finally realized its place. This woman, tenacious as she was, was clearly in awe of the overwhelming power he now had over her. Her expression told him everything, despite no scent of fear filling the air. That damn miasma of Source was all over the place, he could barely smell his kin. No matter, in his heightened state, his eyes and speed were more than enough to end this wretched distraction. He watched as the woman slowly stood, picking up the blade before...
"What?!" Hrond audibly shouted. She ran?! She fucking ran?! This woman! He had clearly challenged her to a duel, had shown his superior might, and she ran?! "Typical prey to try to run when cornered..." he thought to himself as he and his remaining pack member took off after her as the woman barged through the door of a nearby shop.
Alison slammed the door closed and dropped the bar. Small miracle it hadn't been bared up before, but the suddenness of the attack must of caused the owner to flee before he could lock up the shop. Thinking fast, Alison quickly glanced around for anything useful, anything at all! She found she was in some sort of herbalist shop, the smell of dried herbs burned her nostrils as she desperately searched the shelves. Her hand found its way around one jar and after taking a sniff, she smiled. As the door smashed down, she threw it.
The wolfman easily reacted as the jar came hurdling at him, but before Hrond could warn him, he smacked it with his sword! The jar burst open, filling the air with a burning smell that caused his pack member to cough and gag hard on the herbs. He saw as the woman darted from the side and slammed a long tub down into his companion's throat. Before either could react, she yanked the cord and to Hrond's horror, he watched as his pack member screamed in utter pain and suffering as the flare ignited down the wolfman's throat. In a matter of moments, his skull boiled his brain as a hole was burned through the back of his neck. The fresh corpse now tumbled to the side.
Captain Hrond caught the follow-up jab that came, shock and horror replaced with a deep, frothing rage. Too many times had he seen his pack be cooked, hacked, and cut down like mere dogs in the streets! They were the Luna Clan, masters of the hunt in the shadows and he would not tolerate this any longer. No more games, no more tricks.
Twisting the blade, ripped it from her hand and slammed his clawed fist into her stomach. He felt a blade pierce leather, then cloth, the finally skin as the blades plunged into her flesh. With a mighty roar, he punched her through the shop's back walls sending her flying across the back alley and into the warehouse behind it.
Timber walls and wood piles, as Alison had been learning recently, do not make for comfortable fall breakers. Dust filled the air as Alison tried to pick herself up. Her hand went to her stomach and came back with blood. Her mind whirled from the impact as she shook her head, trying to shake the disorientation off. Head somewhat clear, she stared at the blood now dripping from her waist, her arm, and the new cuts in her head. She felt splinters digging into her body and knew running was no longer an option. She had to figure out a way to end it...
Seeing the glowing figure now stepping through the hole in the building, she quickly limped deeper into the warehouse, getting behind a timber pile and catching her breath as her mind raced to figure out a strategy. She stared at her cloak, knowing she only had one use left... But in her state, it would be useless. She was dripping blood, couldn't control her breathing right, and was covered in dust.
"Coming... closer...!" desperately whispered the voice in her ear. Time was running out. It was then she remembered the wrapped weight on her right arm, and one last desperate plan began to form...
Was he stupid? Why on this alien world would you ever give back a weapon to your enemy?! The ego of this wolfman utterly took Alison aback.
Captain Hrond growled in... satisfaction. It seemed his prey finally realized its place. This woman, tenacious as she was, was clearly in awe of the overwhelming power he now had over her. Her expression told him everything, despite no scent of fear filling the air. That damn miasma of Source was all over the place, he could barely smell his kin. No matter, in his heightened state, his eyes and speed were more than enough to end this wretched distraction. He watched as the woman slowly stood, picking up the blade before...
"What?!" Hrond audibly shouted. She ran?! She fucking ran?! This woman! He had clearly challenged her to a duel, had shown his superior might, and she ran?! "Typical prey to try to run when cornered..." he thought to himself as he and his remaining pack member took off after her as the woman barged through the door of a nearby shop.
Alison slammed the door closed and dropped the bar. Small miracle it hadn't been bared up before, but the suddenness of the attack must of caused the owner to flee before he could lock up the shop. Thinking fast, Alison quickly glanced around for anything useful, anything at all! She found she was in some sort of herbalist shop, the smell of dried herbs burned her nostrils as she desperately searched the shelves. Her hand found its way around one jar and after taking a sniff, she smiled. As the door smashed down, she threw it.
The wolfman easily reacted as the jar came hurdling at him, but before Hrond could warn him, he smacked it with his sword! The jar burst open, filling the air with a burning smell that caused his pack member to cough and gag hard on the herbs. He saw as the woman darted from the side and slammed a long tub down into his companion's throat. Before either could react, she yanked the cord and to Hrond's horror, he watched as his pack member screamed in utter pain and suffering as the flare ignited down the wolfman's throat. In a matter of moments, his skull boiled his brain as a hole was burned through the back of his neck. The fresh corpse now tumbled to the side.
Captain Hrond caught the follow-up jab that came, shock and horror replaced with a deep, frothing rage. Too many times had he seen his pack be cooked, hacked, and cut down like mere dogs in the streets! They were the Luna Clan, masters of the hunt in the shadows and he would not tolerate this any longer. No more games, no more tricks.
Twisting the blade, ripped it from her hand and slammed his clawed fist into her stomach. He felt a blade pierce leather, then cloth, the finally skin as the blades plunged into her flesh. With a mighty roar, he punched her through the shop's back walls sending her flying across the back alley and into the warehouse behind it.
Timber walls and wood piles, as Alison had been learning recently, do not make for comfortable fall breakers. Dust filled the air as Alison tried to pick herself up. Her hand went to her stomach and came back with blood. Her mind whirled from the impact as she shook her head, trying to shake the disorientation off. Head somewhat clear, she stared at the blood now dripping from her waist, her arm, and the new cuts in her head. She felt splinters digging into her body and knew running was no longer an option. She had to figure out a way to end it...
Seeing the glowing figure now stepping through the hole in the building, she quickly limped deeper into the warehouse, getting behind a timber pile and catching her breath as her mind raced to figure out a strategy. She stared at her cloak, knowing she only had one use left... But in her state, it would be useless. She was dripping blood, couldn't control her breathing right, and was covered in dust.
"Coming... closer...!" desperately whispered the voice in her ear. Time was running out. It was then she remembered the wrapped weight on her right arm, and one last desperate plan began to form...
The haunting sound of blades whistling through the air seemed to surround Alison as she retreated from the wolfman captain's onslaught.
"Dammit!" she thought to herself as she leaped back from another slash, "There goes our element of surprise! We'll have to fall back, draw them in deeper." After gaining sufficient space from her attacker, Alison called out to Kerensa, "Kerensa! Launch the signal, and fall back to the secondary position! Disengage!"
Kerensa had been doing far better at managing her pacing with the lieutenant, using the curve of her blade to hide its striking distance. Already, her opponent was missing fingers on one hand and sporting a deep, near-fatal slash under the same forearm. Tendons and sinew fluttered in the flames as he attempted to rabidly lash out in desperation, but Kerensa was a cold and skilled swordswoman. She fainted a thrust upward before, in the blink of an eye, flipping her blade in her hand to face the curve downward and in one swift motion, swung the blade around, from top to bottom, then up under the wolfman's sword arm. He had little time to react as the blade severed the arm clean from the body. He stared in disbelief for a moment, watching his arm drift through the air, as Kerensa rolled her grip again, taking his head in a clean follow-through swing.
It was at that moment, the rear guard flooded into the street from behind, rushing towards the pair. Kerensa pulled a short cylinder from her pouch, aimed upward, and pulled the fuse. A red then green flare shot upwards, and all around them, the surviving thieves disengaged via smoke bombs and flash grenades.
With this distraction in place, Alison broke off her fight with the Captain and attempted to lead him down a side street while Kerensa and the others drew away the rear guard down the main avenue. The wolves, relieved to be in the far more familiar position of hunters once more, gave chase to the group while the Captain, ever the seeker of the foreign Source users, chased after Alison with a small cadre, leaving the rest to hunt the survivors.
Alison dashed down the alley, a firm grimace on her face. She had not wanted to get separated, but in the confusion, here they were. As she ran she ducked down another narrow alley filled with trash and junk from the surrounding houses. Thinking fast, she ducked behind a ruined crate and threw up her hood and veil, letting the mystical cloak's ability activate. Light shimmered ever so slightly, then went still as she faded into the wall and rotting wood. She felt the familiar whispers in her ear again.
"Coming... closer... careful... may smell..." said the distant voice. She drew a long, four-sided roundel dagger and held her breath. She prayed that between the smell of garbage, the burning city, and the poor light of the alley, her cover would not be blown...
Captain Hrond barreled through the alley. What had happened? They were the ones meant to plunge fangs and claw into the backs of the unsuspecting Source users! They were the great hunting pack, who would fall all in their path! So what had happened?!
Hrond turned the corner and practically smashed a crate to splinters before abruptly stopping. He stared warily down the alley, ears flicking, eyes narrowing. No, rash anger was for the orcs, the mindless beasts, and the inexperienced fools in the army. He did not reach the rank of captain, nor form this pack through berserking rage. He readied his claw blades and crept forward. If that woman was going to ambush him, now would be the time. He gestured with his head to one of his pack members to take point. He wielded a hand axe and began creeping through the alley ahead of him.
He could sense that ever strange miasma of source that followed that one. That did bother him. And now it seemed to saturate this whole alleyway. Yet it was odd. They were now nearing the exit of the path, spilling into a plaza. Perhaps this cloud was a diversion? What a mess, being led like newborn pups by their noses. However, just as his pack member reached the exit, something stirred in the corner to his right...
"You fools...!"
Alison felt her blade scrape against the ribcage of the Captain as she plunged the dagger through his side, ramming the blade upwards, in quick succession, she yanked the blade back, then stabbed down between his shoulder blade, again, feeling the blade scrape against bone and bite into flesh. With a mighty howl and much to her surprise, the wolfman slammed his armored claw into her stomach. She felt the air leave her lungs as she was flung down the alley, crashing into the lead wolfman and throwing into the plaza. Alison clutched at her chest as she gasped for air. She felt her ribs to be broken. Yet, there was no time to recover, as the wolfman she had tumbled with leaped upon her, swinging the axe down. A warning loudly whispered in her ear, she caught the falling axe by the handle with her left hand, the impact sending a shiver through her left arm. With her right hand still holding the dagger, she drove it upwards under the muzzle of the wolfman.
Shoving the fresh corpse off herself, she rolled backward up onto her feet, just in time to see the Captain's bladed gauntlet stab into the ground where she had just. Standing up straight, he glared at her, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth, breath heavy and panting. His two other squad members came out of the alley behind him and formed up on his left and right, shortsword and claw weapon at the ready.
"Who are you?" the Captain said in a deep, growling tone. Alison's eyes widened in surprise. So they could talk...
"A data analyst," she responded between gasps of breath before dashing forward. She had to take the initiative in this fight, thought Alison, or she would be quickly overwhelmed. She made a play to strike low, seeking to knock the captain off balance while preparing to dive under his squadmate's strikes.
@xenon
"Dammit!" she thought to herself as she leaped back from another slash, "There goes our element of surprise! We'll have to fall back, draw them in deeper." After gaining sufficient space from her attacker, Alison called out to Kerensa, "Kerensa! Launch the signal, and fall back to the secondary position! Disengage!"
Kerensa had been doing far better at managing her pacing with the lieutenant, using the curve of her blade to hide its striking distance. Already, her opponent was missing fingers on one hand and sporting a deep, near-fatal slash under the same forearm. Tendons and sinew fluttered in the flames as he attempted to rabidly lash out in desperation, but Kerensa was a cold and skilled swordswoman. She fainted a thrust upward before, in the blink of an eye, flipping her blade in her hand to face the curve downward and in one swift motion, swung the blade around, from top to bottom, then up under the wolfman's sword arm. He had little time to react as the blade severed the arm clean from the body. He stared in disbelief for a moment, watching his arm drift through the air, as Kerensa rolled her grip again, taking his head in a clean follow-through swing.
It was at that moment, the rear guard flooded into the street from behind, rushing towards the pair. Kerensa pulled a short cylinder from her pouch, aimed upward, and pulled the fuse. A red then green flare shot upwards, and all around them, the surviving thieves disengaged via smoke bombs and flash grenades.
With this distraction in place, Alison broke off her fight with the Captain and attempted to lead him down a side street while Kerensa and the others drew away the rear guard down the main avenue. The wolves, relieved to be in the far more familiar position of hunters once more, gave chase to the group while the Captain, ever the seeker of the foreign Source users, chased after Alison with a small cadre, leaving the rest to hunt the survivors.
Alison dashed down the alley, a firm grimace on her face. She had not wanted to get separated, but in the confusion, here they were. As she ran she ducked down another narrow alley filled with trash and junk from the surrounding houses. Thinking fast, she ducked behind a ruined crate and threw up her hood and veil, letting the mystical cloak's ability activate. Light shimmered ever so slightly, then went still as she faded into the wall and rotting wood. She felt the familiar whispers in her ear again.
"Coming... closer... careful... may smell..." said the distant voice. She drew a long, four-sided roundel dagger and held her breath. She prayed that between the smell of garbage, the burning city, and the poor light of the alley, her cover would not be blown...
Captain Hrond barreled through the alley. What had happened? They were the ones meant to plunge fangs and claw into the backs of the unsuspecting Source users! They were the great hunting pack, who would fall all in their path! So what had happened?!
Hrond turned the corner and practically smashed a crate to splinters before abruptly stopping. He stared warily down the alley, ears flicking, eyes narrowing. No, rash anger was for the orcs, the mindless beasts, and the inexperienced fools in the army. He did not reach the rank of captain, nor form this pack through berserking rage. He readied his claw blades and crept forward. If that woman was going to ambush him, now would be the time. He gestured with his head to one of his pack members to take point. He wielded a hand axe and began creeping through the alley ahead of him.
He could sense that ever strange miasma of source that followed that one. That did bother him. And now it seemed to saturate this whole alleyway. Yet it was odd. They were now nearing the exit of the path, spilling into a plaza. Perhaps this cloud was a diversion? What a mess, being led like newborn pups by their noses. However, just as his pack member reached the exit, something stirred in the corner to his right...
"You fools...!"
Alison felt her blade scrape against the ribcage of the Captain as she plunged the dagger through his side, ramming the blade upwards, in quick succession, she yanked the blade back, then stabbed down between his shoulder blade, again, feeling the blade scrape against bone and bite into flesh. With a mighty howl and much to her surprise, the wolfman slammed his armored claw into her stomach. She felt the air leave her lungs as she was flung down the alley, crashing into the lead wolfman and throwing into the plaza. Alison clutched at her chest as she gasped for air. She felt her ribs to be broken. Yet, there was no time to recover, as the wolfman she had tumbled with leaped upon her, swinging the axe down. A warning loudly whispered in her ear, she caught the falling axe by the handle with her left hand, the impact sending a shiver through her left arm. With her right hand still holding the dagger, she drove it upwards under the muzzle of the wolfman.
Shoving the fresh corpse off herself, she rolled backward up onto her feet, just in time to see the Captain's bladed gauntlet stab into the ground where she had just. Standing up straight, he glared at her, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth, breath heavy and panting. His two other squad members came out of the alley behind him and formed up on his left and right, shortsword and claw weapon at the ready.
"Who are you?" the Captain said in a deep, growling tone. Alison's eyes widened in surprise. So they could talk...
"A data analyst," she responded between gasps of breath before dashing forward. She had to take the initiative in this fight, thought Alison, or she would be quickly overwhelmed. She made a play to strike low, seeking to knock the captain off balance while preparing to dive under his squadmate's strikes.
@xenon
Alright, did a quick edit.
Brooding armored man is all yours, @Zapdos. Show him what heat metal can do to a mf ;)
Brooding armored man is all yours, @Zapdos. Show him what heat metal can do to a mf ;)
The foul air whipped through Alison's hair as she moved across the city's rooftops. Finally, the other shoe had dropped and her prey had entered the battle. As expected, the enemy used the siege's chaos to strike their biggest targets, the Source Crystal users. The familiar raspy voice whispered in her ear as it directed her towards the target.
Behind her followed her contingent. Kerensa along with a squad from the Thieves Guild had been stationed at the watchpoint when the explosion went off. They followed along behind, wielding heavy crossbows, short blades, and the special gadgets Titus had developed for them.
Alison stopped atop one of the roofs and gestured for her squad to get into position. Working in a mad frenzy, the ambush squad quickly took up positions and set up one of the devices Titus developed. A large box was dropped by one of the members and a squat tripod was set up as the box was placed atop it. Others swiftly and gracefully dropped through the windows below and took up positions while others raced to the bottom of said buildings and set up tripwires. Just as they finished, their query rounded the street corner.
A pack of snarling wolfmen howled in triumph as they chased down the fleeing civilians. Amongst them, Alison spotted her targets slightly behind as they let their squad butcher their way through. The blood, smoke, and screams filled the air distracting their otherwise keen senses from the looming ambush above.
Perhaps they thought no one would attempt to shoot them down, with civilians so close. They would be drawn out into the streets to face them down in a desperate attempt to separate them.
Just as the leader under her roof, Alison gave the signal. She had no such compunctions.
The streets below erupted in hellfire as the ambush was sprung. Molotov cocktails rained down on them from above and from windows. Then, aimed square at the formation from above, the box blew open with a brilliant light as a massive shaped charge detonated. A cone of molten hot metal moving at the speed of sound shot down the street into the furry mass. The stench of burning fur and flesh filled the air as wolfmen were cooked alive in their armor. Those who were fast enough to rip off their burning armor were met with heavy crossbow fire cutting them down. Despite the initial shock of the ambush, the survivors quickly reacted. Wolfmen used their great agility to cover the distance quickly and smash down the doors of their would-be attackers.
click
Tattered wolf bits flew through the air as recently set traps detonated with extreme prejudice. Yet still undeterred, the final remaining wolfmen bravely charged into the houses, where brutal hand-to-hand fighting ensued.
This was the moment Alison had patiently waited for. With the remaining wolfmen committed to rooting out her squad, the leader was left exposed. With a nod to Kerensa, they both lept down behind the leader and dashed forward. Alison aimed low, a slash poised to cut the wolfman's tendons, just behind the knee. Kerensa dashed towards the pack member beside him, curved blade whistling out towards his neck to take his head in one swing.
It was the moment of truth
All that escaped the sentry's mouth was a pained gurgle as Pete's blade withdrew from the man's throat. It was going well. He and Olaf had emerged from the hidden tunnel undetected. It seemed the majority of the siege's attack was focused in the south, with only a thin picket surrounding the rest of the city. Their enemy had assumed they would only have to deal with fleeing citizens or retreating soldiers. Not the Thieve's Guild's finest cutthroats on a desperate raid.
Thus, slipping through the picket and to the enemy camp had been unnervingly easy. Pete picked the pace as he and Olaf led the raid toward the enemy camp. His mind raced in panic. If they had committed so fully to the assault, then Valheim had but minutes until it fell. He silently prayed that the Second Chance would live up to their calling.
The camp would soon be within reach, and regardless of the fate of Valheim, they would make sure the enemy would not leave this place unscathed.
@xenon
Behind her followed her contingent. Kerensa along with a squad from the Thieves Guild had been stationed at the watchpoint when the explosion went off. They followed along behind, wielding heavy crossbows, short blades, and the special gadgets Titus had developed for them.
Alison stopped atop one of the roofs and gestured for her squad to get into position. Working in a mad frenzy, the ambush squad quickly took up positions and set up one of the devices Titus developed. A large box was dropped by one of the members and a squat tripod was set up as the box was placed atop it. Others swiftly and gracefully dropped through the windows below and took up positions while others raced to the bottom of said buildings and set up tripwires. Just as they finished, their query rounded the street corner.
A pack of snarling wolfmen howled in triumph as they chased down the fleeing civilians. Amongst them, Alison spotted her targets slightly behind as they let their squad butcher their way through. The blood, smoke, and screams filled the air distracting their otherwise keen senses from the looming ambush above.
Perhaps they thought no one would attempt to shoot them down, with civilians so close. They would be drawn out into the streets to face them down in a desperate attempt to separate them.
Just as the leader under her roof, Alison gave the signal. She had no such compunctions.
The streets below erupted in hellfire as the ambush was sprung. Molotov cocktails rained down on them from above and from windows. Then, aimed square at the formation from above, the box blew open with a brilliant light as a massive shaped charge detonated. A cone of molten hot metal moving at the speed of sound shot down the street into the furry mass. The stench of burning fur and flesh filled the air as wolfmen were cooked alive in their armor. Those who were fast enough to rip off their burning armor were met with heavy crossbow fire cutting them down. Despite the initial shock of the ambush, the survivors quickly reacted. Wolfmen used their great agility to cover the distance quickly and smash down the doors of their would-be attackers.
click
Tattered wolf bits flew through the air as recently set traps detonated with extreme prejudice. Yet still undeterred, the final remaining wolfmen bravely charged into the houses, where brutal hand-to-hand fighting ensued.
This was the moment Alison had patiently waited for. With the remaining wolfmen committed to rooting out her squad, the leader was left exposed. With a nod to Kerensa, they both lept down behind the leader and dashed forward. Alison aimed low, a slash poised to cut the wolfman's tendons, just behind the knee. Kerensa dashed towards the pack member beside him, curved blade whistling out towards his neck to take his head in one swing.
It was the moment of truth
All that escaped the sentry's mouth was a pained gurgle as Pete's blade withdrew from the man's throat. It was going well. He and Olaf had emerged from the hidden tunnel undetected. It seemed the majority of the siege's attack was focused in the south, with only a thin picket surrounding the rest of the city. Their enemy had assumed they would only have to deal with fleeing citizens or retreating soldiers. Not the Thieve's Guild's finest cutthroats on a desperate raid.
Thus, slipping through the picket and to the enemy camp had been unnervingly easy. Pete picked the pace as he and Olaf led the raid toward the enemy camp. His mind raced in panic. If they had committed so fully to the assault, then Valheim had but minutes until it fell. He silently prayed that the Second Chance would live up to their calling.
The camp would soon be within reach, and regardless of the fate of Valheim, they would make sure the enemy would not leave this place unscathed.
@xenon
Alright posted! Things are about to get interesting
Peter Harathian sat squat in the dank, dark tunnel below the city. His mind was swirling with anticipation and frustration. For the past four days, he was stuck in here, waiting for the enemy to finally show their cards. He missed the sun, the smell of booze and coffee, of fresh air. But his role was an important one, probably one of the most important ones if he had to figure. The boss had come up with a clever plan, a bold one, that might just get him killed. He grinned to himself under his hood for what must have been the tenth time that day.
A faint shrill of a siren echoed down his tunnel, interrupting his musings. It was time. Olaf stirred across from him as did the rest of his chosen men. They all wore brown rags and cloaks, obscuring their outline and hopefully blending in with their surroundings of where they were meant to go. Olaf grunted.
"Early. That's worrisome," he said in his usual matter-of-fact tone. Pete shrugged as he checked his satchel and weapons.
"Not so bad. Was scared we'd be breakin out in the day. Afta bein in this tunnels like, we'd be blind as babes steppin out. Best slows us down, worse leaves us about as helpless." Pete said with his usual upbeat tone and rye grin. It was true though, what both of them had said. Pete was worried that the town may be more vulnerable than planned. It didn't matter now, they had only three outcomes. Come back alive, be in the bowels of some abomination, or come back to a dead town.
The group moved further down the tunnel before reaching the filled-in entrance. Carefully, Pete disarmed the trap he had set with Alison. What a terrifying bit of genius this trap was, and Pete couldn't help but feel pride as he slowly disarmed his trap. After the wires were safely away, he and Olaf began digging, with Pete muttering a count. "24... 25... 26..." he muttered before they both eventually came to a stop. Only five more shovel loads away before they gradually would start to break out. They sat in complete silence, the battle raging distantly overhead.
A moment passed.
Then another.
Finally, Olaf solemnly nodded to Pete and spoke up as he readied his shovel. "If we survive attacking that camp and wipin it off this gods forsaken world. I'm proposing to Kerensa."
Pete nearly stumbled at that. He blinked twice at Olaf then slowly shook his head. "'fraid that's not gonna be in the cards Olaf, Keren is likes the boss. Men and women like em are married to their dreams like. Their goals. They're not the kinds to die old on a farm with grandkids around em. Till death do em apart, and them dreams and drive tend to live lots longer. No ole man, you best findin else who's got a thin for short bald men" he said as his shovel dug into the loose earth in front of them. Olaf glared for a moment but sighed and started shoveling alongside him.
As Olaf did, he grumbled,
"Not like we live much longer either."
Irregular warfare is chaotic, multidimensional, and yet a unity of effort. From air to ground, from back alleys to the very halls of power, an irregular war is waged through fronts both seen and unseen. Thus, to fight an irregular war, one must have the unity to cover those dimensions, to know those halls, those alleys, and be able to maneuver without issue through them.
This was the life Alison had been devoted to for over ten years. Her wars were never as simple as "us versus them". Nothing as unambiguous as total annihilation. They were deals with those the public would think enemies, the targeting of what would have otherwise been friends. The enemy was in those halls, those backrooms. In the wires, in the crowds, whispering and poisoning the well while blaming their targets for it all.
That was the war she fought.
And now, she was faced with the other side of it.
A sickening sucking noise came from the ghoul as Alison drew back her dagger. The creature staggered forward, snarling as if the stab was merely a slight, before finally collapsing as the timer ran out on the wretched thing's life. The sound of flesh being cut echoed behind her as Kerensa finished off her ghoulish opponent. Alison sighed, looking around the street that had been cleared. It had come as both a shock and something familiar, and she had dearly wished someone had told her. The enemy air-dropping zombies into the city was harrowing and genius. Chaos raged around her, as the garrison became distracted with the threat. Civilians ran in terror for their lives only caused further bottlenecks and confusion. No matter what, she had her priorities. This would have to be dealt with by the soldiers.
"Let's get to the observation post," Alison said and darted down the street with Kerensa close behind.
Reaching the building, it stood only slightly taller than the others and otherwise seemed unassuming. But this "observation post" had become a secret bastion for those of the Thieves Guild. A few select buildings had been quietly modified at her behest. Bricks were discretely removed and turned into firing slits for ambush. Cloth-covered holes hiding spy glasses. The bottom floor was filled with a series of traps, and secret roof hatches were added for escape.
Alison and Kerensa entered one of those secret hatches in the Southeast where the enemy was beginning their assault. She peered through the glass and saw the chaos below. Militias fought with as much ferocity and desperation as their undead foes. That's the thing she hated about wars like these. When faced with utter annihilation, there is no room for schemes beyond killing the enemy. Everyone knew what the result would be, so like cornered animals, people would begin to either shut down or fight like mad.
She saw the Second Chance members manning their stations where they could, fighting a desperate fight. She watched in astonishment as Zell deflected a flaming bolt of magic, saving the garrison and himself on the wall.
This was the hard part.
Taking a deep breath, she began to scan again, watching, waiting.
From the whispers in her ear, she knew the shadows of the enemy were coming for her comrades, but with some luck, they would have failed to notice that they were the ones being hunted.
Alison only hoped that trump card she had been given at the Academy would be enough.
A faint shrill of a siren echoed down his tunnel, interrupting his musings. It was time. Olaf stirred across from him as did the rest of his chosen men. They all wore brown rags and cloaks, obscuring their outline and hopefully blending in with their surroundings of where they were meant to go. Olaf grunted.
"Early. That's worrisome," he said in his usual matter-of-fact tone. Pete shrugged as he checked his satchel and weapons.
"Not so bad. Was scared we'd be breakin out in the day. Afta bein in this tunnels like, we'd be blind as babes steppin out. Best slows us down, worse leaves us about as helpless." Pete said with his usual upbeat tone and rye grin. It was true though, what both of them had said. Pete was worried that the town may be more vulnerable than planned. It didn't matter now, they had only three outcomes. Come back alive, be in the bowels of some abomination, or come back to a dead town.
The group moved further down the tunnel before reaching the filled-in entrance. Carefully, Pete disarmed the trap he had set with Alison. What a terrifying bit of genius this trap was, and Pete couldn't help but feel pride as he slowly disarmed his trap. After the wires were safely away, he and Olaf began digging, with Pete muttering a count. "24... 25... 26..." he muttered before they both eventually came to a stop. Only five more shovel loads away before they gradually would start to break out. They sat in complete silence, the battle raging distantly overhead.
A moment passed.
Then another.
Finally, Olaf solemnly nodded to Pete and spoke up as he readied his shovel. "If we survive attacking that camp and wipin it off this gods forsaken world. I'm proposing to Kerensa."
Pete nearly stumbled at that. He blinked twice at Olaf then slowly shook his head. "'fraid that's not gonna be in the cards Olaf, Keren is likes the boss. Men and women like em are married to their dreams like. Their goals. They're not the kinds to die old on a farm with grandkids around em. Till death do em apart, and them dreams and drive tend to live lots longer. No ole man, you best findin else who's got a thin for short bald men" he said as his shovel dug into the loose earth in front of them. Olaf glared for a moment but sighed and started shoveling alongside him.
As Olaf did, he grumbled,
"Not like we live much longer either."
Irregular warfare is chaotic, multidimensional, and yet a unity of effort. From air to ground, from back alleys to the very halls of power, an irregular war is waged through fronts both seen and unseen. Thus, to fight an irregular war, one must have the unity to cover those dimensions, to know those halls, those alleys, and be able to maneuver without issue through them.
This was the life Alison had been devoted to for over ten years. Her wars were never as simple as "us versus them". Nothing as unambiguous as total annihilation. They were deals with those the public would think enemies, the targeting of what would have otherwise been friends. The enemy was in those halls, those backrooms. In the wires, in the crowds, whispering and poisoning the well while blaming their targets for it all.
That was the war she fought.
And now, she was faced with the other side of it.
A sickening sucking noise came from the ghoul as Alison drew back her dagger. The creature staggered forward, snarling as if the stab was merely a slight, before finally collapsing as the timer ran out on the wretched thing's life. The sound of flesh being cut echoed behind her as Kerensa finished off her ghoulish opponent. Alison sighed, looking around the street that had been cleared. It had come as both a shock and something familiar, and she had dearly wished someone had told her. The enemy air-dropping zombies into the city was harrowing and genius. Chaos raged around her, as the garrison became distracted with the threat. Civilians ran in terror for their lives only caused further bottlenecks and confusion. No matter what, she had her priorities. This would have to be dealt with by the soldiers.
"Let's get to the observation post," Alison said and darted down the street with Kerensa close behind.
Reaching the building, it stood only slightly taller than the others and otherwise seemed unassuming. But this "observation post" had become a secret bastion for those of the Thieves Guild. A few select buildings had been quietly modified at her behest. Bricks were discretely removed and turned into firing slits for ambush. Cloth-covered holes hiding spy glasses. The bottom floor was filled with a series of traps, and secret roof hatches were added for escape.
Alison and Kerensa entered one of those secret hatches in the Southeast where the enemy was beginning their assault. She peered through the glass and saw the chaos below. Militias fought with as much ferocity and desperation as their undead foes. That's the thing she hated about wars like these. When faced with utter annihilation, there is no room for schemes beyond killing the enemy. Everyone knew what the result would be, so like cornered animals, people would begin to either shut down or fight like mad.
She saw the Second Chance members manning their stations where they could, fighting a desperate fight. She watched in astonishment as Zell deflected a flaming bolt of magic, saving the garrison and himself on the wall.
This was the hard part.
Taking a deep breath, she began to scan again, watching, waiting.
From the whispers in her ear, she knew the shadows of the enemy were coming for her comrades, but with some luck, they would have failed to notice that they were the ones being hunted.
Alison only hoped that trump card she had been given at the Academy would be enough.
Should be able to get my post up tomorrow night!
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