@PaulHaynek @Enkryption @The Irish Tree @Rezod92@Crowvette@AzureKnight
Skarsneek of the Red Hill
"Hey, a little warning you idiot!" Skarsneek ears rang with a lingering whistle as he hissed, hands cupping it.
As he looked at the limping Na'kratz, Skarsneek blinked momentarily before realizing what she did to him. "You injured him? You actually injured him?! How's he supposed to work now?!"
You kill him AFTER he's tired and done, not at the start! He thought angrily as he examined the wound. It wasn't fatal but it was still a wound.
A traitorous voice gleefully pointed out he can watch him die slowly and laugh. The logical one agreed, no point in helping. Never mind the medicine wasted to help an enemy. It also spread terror and fear.
Skarsneek shoved all that to the sides, the thing that mattered now was the big picture. There was no room for short-sightedness.
"Patch this idiot up!" Skarsneek pick up Na'kratz under his shoulders, causing more work for him to do. It didn't matter if it hit any vitals, the sheer rumors that surrendering means execution or maiming was going to burgeon out of control.
If this gets, no, forget it. The whole town knew by now. The doubts that people surrendering to them in hopes of being spared was sown, already, he can imagine just how much more the normal rank and file Varjans would fight harder or surrender less. Same also with more of the other Shizuyamas.
Gods, he rather Cecilia just murdered Na'kratz instead of wounding him now. At least that would've been consistent.
The goblin had to drag Na'kratz to where Ayu was, hoping that the wound was a clean one rather than a messy one. At least the healing would take less time.
---
Gringor of the Ironhide Tribe.
Gringor winced at the sound, wondering just what it was? A spell? The hanging smell also had him curled his face and snorted.
The commotion made him look at the fallen sorcerer as he rubbed his ears. Smelling the iron tang in the air.
"Soft." He huffed at the injured Na'kratz, completely dismissive at the violence. How was it that the lazy monk was tougher than the armored boi?
Still, with shrug of his shoulders, he turned towards the blacksmith first. Already looking to take care of his newly acquired armor from those heavily armored bois. It was completely damaged in some areas but he managed to scrapped parts of it and hopefully, be able to add onto his current armor.
For now, he hefted the large shield that he acquired from the Iron Grinder captain. Testing it out as he swung his axe and used the shield in tandem. He was still unused to the shield but it was a solid slad of metal. Using it as a weapon was something he can do.
Recalling how the Iron Grinder fought, he copied it as best as he can but most of it remained irrelevant. Gringor noted that it fitted a stabba rather than a choppa.
He'll have to figure it out mid-way of the battle then.
His nose then picked the underboss scent, and nearly everyone gathering. Already, the pheromones slowly flowed from him. It was coming, another fight.
With that, Gringor headed to the temple.
Skarsneek of the Red Hill
"Hey, a little warning you idiot!" Skarsneek ears rang with a lingering whistle as he hissed, hands cupping it.
As he looked at the limping Na'kratz, Skarsneek blinked momentarily before realizing what she did to him. "You injured him? You actually injured him?! How's he supposed to work now?!"
You kill him AFTER he's tired and done, not at the start! He thought angrily as he examined the wound. It wasn't fatal but it was still a wound.
A traitorous voice gleefully pointed out he can watch him die slowly and laugh. The logical one agreed, no point in helping. Never mind the medicine wasted to help an enemy. It also spread terror and fear.
Skarsneek shoved all that to the sides, the thing that mattered now was the big picture. There was no room for short-sightedness.
"Patch this idiot up!" Skarsneek pick up Na'kratz under his shoulders, causing more work for him to do. It didn't matter if it hit any vitals, the sheer rumors that surrendering means execution or maiming was going to burgeon out of control.
If this gets, no, forget it. The whole town knew by now. The doubts that people surrendering to them in hopes of being spared was sown, already, he can imagine just how much more the normal rank and file Varjans would fight harder or surrender less. Same also with more of the other Shizuyamas.
Gods, he rather Cecilia just murdered Na'kratz instead of wounding him now. At least that would've been consistent.
The goblin had to drag Na'kratz to where Ayu was, hoping that the wound was a clean one rather than a messy one. At least the healing would take less time.
---
Gringor of the Ironhide Tribe.
Gringor winced at the sound, wondering just what it was? A spell? The hanging smell also had him curled his face and snorted.
The commotion made him look at the fallen sorcerer as he rubbed his ears. Smelling the iron tang in the air.
"Soft." He huffed at the injured Na'kratz, completely dismissive at the violence. How was it that the lazy monk was tougher than the armored boi?
Still, with shrug of his shoulders, he turned towards the blacksmith first. Already looking to take care of his newly acquired armor from those heavily armored bois. It was completely damaged in some areas but he managed to scrapped parts of it and hopefully, be able to add onto his current armor.
For now, he hefted the large shield that he acquired from the Iron Grinder captain. Testing it out as he swung his axe and used the shield in tandem. He was still unused to the shield but it was a solid slad of metal. Using it as a weapon was something he can do.
Recalling how the Iron Grinder fought, he copied it as best as he can but most of it remained irrelevant. Gringor noted that it fitted a stabba rather than a choppa.
He'll have to figure it out mid-way of the battle then.
His nose then picked the underboss scent, and nearly everyone gathering. Already, the pheromones slowly flowed from him. It was coming, another fight.
With that, Gringor headed to the temple.