Open Chronicles Blood in the Ironwood

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Geladryx

The Emerald Death
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Eastern Allir Reach transitioning into the Spine

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The Ironwood, as it was known existed on the outskirts where the Allir Reach transformed into the Spine. The Trees were old here, tall and towering they loomed imperiously over the land existing beneath a canopy of evergreen. On a good day the rays of the sun penetrated the forest ceiling sprinkling down over the earth like a dusting, revealing the flora and fauna that filled the landscape. The terrain was rocky and rough, there were hills and rises, streams and rivers ran like a patchwork across the landscape.

Settlers from the Allir Reach had long ventured into the Ironwood, passing through the region on their way to make a life for themselves in the untamed wilderness. Many traveled via roads that were untended, only seeing traffic when the next group arrived to use them. Still they were something for people to use.

Bandits and roving bands of Orcs also called the Ironwood home. Lawlessness in the Spine wasn't uncommon, especially on the fringe which meant Settlers often had to be weary. Travelers and those without protection were often set upon without mercy. Men, Women, Children; whole families disappeared in the Ironwood never to be seen again but still more people arrived undeterred. Some made it, some did not.

----

These people were not fighters. A half dozen wagons filled with the hopes and dreams to start a new life burned to the ground. The fighting was short lived and brutal. As the wagons passed over the ramshackle road of the Ironwood the arrows had split the air first. By the time the first volley had buried itself into the flesh of men and the wood of the wagons the Orcs had rushed from their positions, concealed by the natural landscape.

When the fighting ended the earth drank the blood of men. One Orc had died, maybe two but every man that road of the wagons venturing into the forest had been slain.

"AAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!!!!!!"

A final cry that turned to gurgling mess as the last surviving male was killed, his head pulled high before the cold steel of the knife sawing through his windpipe sent him into darkness. It was a brutal, bloody affair and when it concluded the orc who finished raised the severed head of the man he'd decapitated and tossed it into a pile with the others.

The Uz Moddad came from the Southern Spine. Not the largest Orc tribe they made a name for themselves due to barbarous and brutal tactics. Recently they'd come down from the more mountainous regions of the Spine to the Ironwood near the Allir Reach.

With the fighting done and only women and children left the Orcs, numbering roughly twenty ensured their captives were bound with arms behind their back and tethered with rope running between them. The Wagons were put to the torch ensuring black smoke rose up past the treetops of the forest.

"On your feet worms!"

...a particularly monstrous Orc growled, standing to one side of the captives now being prodded and pushed forward by the others...

"Speak and your tongues will be cut from your mouth. You won't need them where you're going."

...the children sniffled, shushed by their mothers while they were moved forward. The Orcs watched with uncaring eyes. In the background, as the captives were marched away the flames from the wagons still burning filled created an amber glow and thick black smoke rose up above the forest and into the sky.
 
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The new boss was strict. She told Grayhorn to not sit on the wagons. To not stand near the horses. To stop talking to everyone. Very strict. His job was to look big and walk behind the wagons. Something about scaring off bad people. It sounded like sword seller or lancer freer work. But it couldn't be that. Boss had called it mercy-nary work. He did not know what a nary was, but clearly his job was to show someone mercy.

Yes, Grayhorn could so mercy. He was very friendly komodi. Show mercy and make friends. He would make Boss very proud with how merciful and friendly he could be!

But he was going to be in big trouble. A day ago the Boss had asked him to dig them a hole when they stopped for a break. She said it was for them to bury their waste so it wouldn't be a festering pile on their way back. The wagons left, but he was specifically told not to come back until the hole was dug. So he hurried as fast as he could but he never could catch up to the wagons.

After walking all night though, Grayhorn was sure he was close. There was smoke rising up into the air. Good, good. He was very tired. All that walking after the digging was exhausting and he was cold now. They must have known and put extra fire outs for him. Explained how much thicker the smoke was than usual.

What Grayhorn found when he finally caught up to the wagons made him very sad. The bad people must have showed up and without him there to scary them and show them mercy a lot of his new friends had died. This made him feel the big sadness. It only seemed to be the older males though that were here. Did that mean the Boss, younglings, and females were with the bad people?

Grayhorn was still on the job then! Boss would need her mercy-nary to deal with the bad people. But first he should do something about the mess. Obviously the Boss would tell him to bury the males and put out the fires. Some of the wagons could be saved and they would be needed to finish the journey. So he went about pulling off any canvas that was on fire and throwing dirt on any wood that was on fire. No mind was paid to how close he was to the flames. They made him feel warm and it was not like fire on this level could hurt the komodi. After that he would go about burying the dead.

Geladryx
 
Buliwyf smelt the smoke first before coming upon the massacre. The dwarf was traveling from Allir back to Belgrath on his own, following the very road this unfortanate caravan of settlers were on. He had known they were a head of him, he could see the fresh tracks of wagons and the footprints of men, women and children. He figured they were half a day ahead of him, but he made no attempt to increase his own pace to catch up to them for he was not up for keeping company with strangers. Seeing now what had felled them, such was a good call to make. Though he did not know what force was set upon these people, he could only assume it be bandits or orcs for such was common in these neck of the woods. He himself had made a small fortune guarding wealthy merchants and their full wagons from such threats.

Buliwyf could see the tall scaled creature with horns working about the wagons and the bodies of the fallen. He carefully studied the Komodi, taking note that the being was putting the fires out and not pillaging the wagons or the bodies. He concluded that the Komodi was either a survivor or just a simple by-passer. Either-way, Buliwylf would treat him with caution with approach as he stepped out from the forest and centered himself more onto the path, making sure he was visible and not to Startle the walking lizard.

The Dwarf removed his dark hood exposing his bald tattooed head while the rings in his dark auburn beard slightly clanged with each step he took forward. His carried his bearded axe off his right shoulder, relaxed but ready to strike if needed. His left shoulder and arm was ready to drop his backpack at the first sign of trouble. "Fa ur ye?" Ironhide's voice broke the silence with his deep gritted belgrathian accent.
 
Investigating the burning caravan would reveal the obvious. Arrows of rudiment design were lodged into the wood of several wagons, the bodies of the deceased had been hacked into by weapons fashioned for the brutal work of killing. The Uz Moddad, leaving the burning remnants behind had done little to hide their tracks ensuring it wouldn't be difficult for Grayhorn or the dwarf, Buliwyf Ironhide to follow them.

The Orcs were slowed by the captives they marched off the road, taking them deeper into the forest.

When the smoke from the burning wagons dimmed before dying out entirely one of the Orc's in the rear, noticing it would have grunted out...

"To quick for the fires ta' be dyin'. You think there's more back there?"

...his comments were heard by the largest of the Uz Moddad, an Orc bristling with muscle and a patchwork of ritualized scars that crossed over his torso...

"If there is they found their friends dead. Go an' check. Kill em if there ain't to many."

...the idea of more killing sent of a surge of excitement through several of the Orc's. A trio would break off from the group marching the captives through the Ironwood and circle back around to check on the ambush site. At this point none of the Orc's had any idea what was back at the wagons. Insofar as they were concerned it may have even been a survivor that they'd missed.
 
Edderick would have been on the caravan. Following them with a good energy and had become fast friends with the children. Spreading the more romantic tales of heroes and knights fighting monsters. She told them she had met great giants of men, humble barbers who fought their fears and even of the plucky rogue who could be trusted as far as you could throw him.

The children loved all of the stories, or at least Edderick came to believe they did as she was besieged for more and more every day. She found herself coming up with obviously fake tales when she ran out, but they seemed just as pleased and ignorant to how it didn't all make sense. But the lies weren't just because her adventures were boring. Rather she didn't want to tell them of the other parts.

Edderick was young and inexperienced, but the few she had made her question the path she was taking. After all of this pain did she really want to be an adventurer? Was she cut out for all of the violence? The blood shed and dirty truths of horrendous things people did? She had joined the caravan as a tailor but she had hoped to find another. . . thing to call herself at the end of her journey. She couldn't quite put a finger on what it was she was searching for, but a deep part of her really wanted something different. Something different than the untold stories of children forced to control monsters for entertainment, slavers who like to pick the weakest kid for "good eatums", demon that she never ultimately found and could still be out there, or even of the same knights who fought ogres extorting the very same people they saved.

But that didn't come. All that came was fire. Death.

Screams of the children was the last thing Edderick heard with her guts being lanced by a crude orcish blade and it was possibly the last thing she would ever hear when she drifted. the feeling of dying was scary at first, all of the regrets bottled up inside of her like a cocktail of misery, but once enough blood flooded out of her body she no longer felt the cold, but the radiant numbness. It hard to describe the feeling. Like being submerged in a hot-bath. When your brain begins to die and all of those worries go away. Edderick had heard ultimate silence, had seen ultimate nothing. She had submerged into the river styx and despite everything was ready to go where she was needed. Even if it was nothing, as she suspected her soul had been cursed to oblivion by a witch.

But Oblivion did not come. What came was a slap, a burning hot poker of feeling in her chest. She couldn't move, but every feeling returned in an inferno of misery. She had just let go, she had just accepted it all, but something pulled her back to the terribly wonder of life. She heard at first a woman and then a man. She heard all of the voices of the Komodi. But it was when the Dwarf mumbled that her pain shocked her to reacting finally. She shot her eyes open to the blinding of the lights. Her hand instinctively reached out and grabbed the Dwarf by the ankle.

She didn't know him, but his silhouette brought her memories of a man she almost forgot.
"Strok" Her voice was weak, and barely above a whisper. "Strok help!"

Geladryx
Grayhorn
Buliwyf Ironhide
 
The three orcs drew closer to the burned out caravan...

"Khurash, make the way. We will follow," sneered a lanky orc with a bow.

Khurash frowned, the lines of his shaven brows drawing together darkly, but he said nothing. Axe in one hand, long knife in the other, he slipped ahead of the other two and moved with a surprising speed for one so thickly-limbed. He was not the tallest orc, but his chest looked big around as a barrel and his arms were thicker than saplings.

"That's where you belong, no tribe," grunted the third orc, who wielded a short spear, equally as good for hurling as it was for a thrust.

Khurash grunted, thick lips pressing together in a grimace. They did not know him. He joined their warband only yesterday. In return for sharing food and fire, he aided this tribe in the raid on the caravan. Did they leave some survivors? Maybe. He did not care for this tribe or their methods, but every tribe needed to feed its people... one way or another. Such decisions fell to chieftains. And Khurash was no chieftain, merely a warrior.

So he would be silent until-

"Maybe I shoot you in the back, tell them it was a survivor. What do you think of that, Warg Rider?"

Khurash heard the creak of gut-string and horn and he froze. He turned slowly to stare down the shaft that the bow-wielder had drawn back.

"Do it. And pray to the god of your tribe that you aim true. Or I will add you to the others," with the tip of his long-knife, he brushed through the long strips of dried skin and hair which hung at his belt.

The face of the bow-bearer twitched, but the javelin wielder only laughed. "Put it down, Lurgz. Don't waste it on this skin-carver."

Still wondering if he would be shot in the back, Khurash turned around and with a loping gait led them back toward the burning caravan.
 
Manual labor. Grayhorn was the best at it. The humans had always told him this. He knew it was true because they gave him their more toothy smiles. The ones called a "sneer." Smiles meant happy and good, and the bigger the smile the more teeth that would show. So the sneer was the best smile!

Carrying all the heavy loads and dumping dirt to put out fires made him happy. Not only was he good at it but it made him feel helpful. Some times he would even get coins or food for doing it! Work was good. Everyone should do it. Why did so many complain?

A voice called out to the komodi as he was digging the holes. One for each dead human. He didn't stop in his task till he had it finished then finally looked over. What he saw was a short human. New friend! But his new short human friend had a hand on his ankle and the wagon spoke to him.

Strange. Grayhorn didn't remember the wagons talking before. Were they scared?

The komodi crawled out of the hole he dug. He gave his new friend the biggest, toothiest smile he could muster.

"Greetings new friend! Dig holes with Grayhorn?"

Buliwyf Ironhide Geladryx Edderick Stormbane Khurash
 
For a moment, just a fleeting moment, Buliwyf stood there dumbfounded by the nonchalant reaction and reply that came from the Komodi. It was as if this carnage and savagery that surrounded him did not exist, making his overly friendliness inappropriate for this moment in time. These lizard folk were not renown for their intelligence but even this reeked in levels of simple beyond the average Komodi with this being the first impression upon the dwarf. Before Ironhide could respond, with no doubt in some term of rudeness with no empathy towards the horned lizard's affliction, a hand gripped his foot calling a name.

Buliwyf stumbled forward avoiding eating the dirt with his face and jerked around in with startled reaction. What he thought was a dead girl had just nearly scared into self defecation and his first reaction was to raise his axe to bear upon her as if she was some kind of creature of the dead. He stopped short, quickly noticing she was not a zombie our ghoul, but a live and barely clinging to life.

"Ye dainty toe bitin' pixie nearly gart me jobby myself!" Ironhide growled loudly at the injured human female who was obviously in need of immediate medical attention. Spite his initial disgruntled reaction he was quick to drop the woman's side, laying his bearded axe slightly off in the distance but in reach. He would turn the woman over so he could see the nature of her wounds.

"Ah got ye lassie!" his demeanor went from disgruntled to worried and nurturing as he scanned for the wound. He lifted her blue tunic without apology, just enough to see the wound site clearly and not far enough up that he was exposing her breasts. He had some semblance of honor. He could see the wound was deep, it leaked but for her sake it was not squirting like an arterial cut. Problem was, Buliwyf did not know how long she had been bleeding out for so every second counted. He grabbed her hands and forced her to put pressure on it "Keep pressure haur, Ah will be reit back!"

He got up and looked at the Komodi that was still digging and filling holes. He had an assumption that he was not going to be much help in this, so he walked over to the closest burn pile that he had yet to extinguish. Ironhide than drew his large hunting knife from its sheath and anointed the blade with dwarven whiskey poured from a water skin for antiseptic purposes. He then put the blade into the fire and took a long swig from the whiskey skin. He was a blacksmith and new how long to keep the blade in the fire before it become red. It gave it a few minutes to have a quick look around before having to tend to his patient.

Buliwyf could see the body of an orc, which was clad in a manner that gave evidence that this was a orc raid and not a run of the mill bandit ambush. He spat on the ground and once again put his eyes on the Komodi that was diligently hard at work. One could say he was happy. Which was very disturbing to Ironhide and with that he took another long swig of his whiskey before turning back to the fire and knife. He plucked the blade out and quickly rushed over to the female's side holding the blade out so she could see.

"Lassie, thes is gonnae hurt!" He informed, giving her a moment to come to terms while forcing her to take a sip of his whiskey. He wasn't waiting for her permission for this needed to happen fast. He moved her hands out of the way and doused the area with the alcohol and then pressed the hot blade to her skin. It was only going to be there for a few seconds but he knew from first hand that those seconds were going to be some of the worst moments of her life, riddled with excruciating pain as the heat from the blade would cauterize the wound. Before she could mouth a scream Buliwyf would place his gloved hand up to her mouth "BITE!"

Grayhorn Edderick Stormbane Khurash Geladryx
 
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No Orc would shoot Khurash in the back, especially not Lurgz who while as sinister as his tribesmen was also something of a coward. Why else choose a bow over an axe or a sword?

Most Uz Moddad preferred weapons that let them come in close, they enjoyed watching the life fade from the eyes of their enemies when they sunk their blades in deep. A Bow deprived an honest warrior of that, many of those struck down from afar did not even see the one doing the killing. Orcs who used a bow were useful but held to a lesser regard by the tribe

As befitting him Lurgz would likely stay in the background but the other Orc, a warrior whose blade was twisted and jagged would crouch low and move forward to follow as Khurash lead them back towards the remnants of the caravan.

It would not take them long, moving without captives and knowing the lay of the land as they virtually retraced their steps back towards the ambush site. Loud voices and an unfamiliar accent in the near distance would only aid in the rediscovery of the site where the caravan had been attacked, burned and the settlers taken.

When they came closer the Warrior, Ovokk would sneer as he looked through some foliage and turned to look at Khurash...

"You'll add more scalps to your belt tonight, Skin Carver. Lets make this quick."

...he was preparing to rise then, just as the Dwarf finished cauterizing the wound of the other survivor so that he could rush in and claim a kill before the others did likewise.



Elsewhere the remainder of the Orcs continued to move the prisoners forward, deeper into the forest towards an unknown destination. Among them a Warrior stopped and turned its head, looking back in the direction the trio had moved back towards..

Buliwyf Ironhide Grayhorn Edderick Stormbane

 
Khurash's nostrils flared with a snort.

He would not let these fools claim the first kill.

Bursting forth from the underbrush, Khurash sprinted for the dwarf. The fingers of his right hand curled firmly around leather strips encircling the yew shaft of his axe, while the left held the long knife. Deerhide soles crushed grass and dirt beneath them. Air cooled his bare chest and tugged at his cotton pants.

Blood beat in his head like a drum. A war cry ripped from his throat, raw and wild as a wolf's howl.
 
Edderick was in a spectrum of consciousness. Her life was one of fleeting dances between sleep, delusions and the sober reality of her situation. She heard the Dwarf speak to her, but heard only remembered delusions of an old friend, making fun of her for having not ate enough. She enjoyed the moment, before the friend, in a strange voice foreign to his lips, told her it was going to hurt.

The skin squelched and hissed as the skin boiled and melted together. A fieldsman suture. She was awake now. She knew it. The heavens had spit her out, back into the mud she had died in and her teeth bared against gloved hand with all the anger she could muster. She had been cut before, been burned and singed by rogue spells and elemental fury. But having the hellfire within you very veins was different.


But as she hurt, she saw a figure coming towards them. She took her teeth from the Dwarf's hand and screamed.

"ORCS! BEHIND YOU!"

Edderick's blood filled with a cocktail of adrenaline and the pain began to fade as she tapped into the rage she had siphoned during the attack as an Empathy mage. Her hand gripped her nearby bag as she searched desperately for something. Her eyes began to see only red and suddenly all of the emotions came back to her, reviving her from her corpse-like state. She still could not move, she did not have the strength with how little blood she had, but she used every ounce of her strength to search for her ticket to health.
 
The short human new friend didn't answer Grayhorn. Not here to help dig the holes. More work for Grayhorn then. He had the body in the hole and was about to cover it up when there came a yell from the wagon, which was not a wagon. A human female was hiding and hurt. Short friend was making her better. Good. Friends needs should help friends....

What was it new female friend said? Oh yes. Green humans.

Grayhorn turned his attention to where the mean yelling started from. A big green human was running with his weapon held up. A bad person. Time for Grayhorn to do his job as a mercy-nary and scare them. So the komodi picked up his shovel he was using to dig the holes (despite him having a longsword clearly sheathed on his back) and began to rush forward swiftly using his long legs to give him a nice stride.

He would greet the bad person before his short friend could and was determined to give the green human a good smack. That would make them think twice on doing bad things!

Buliwyf Ironhide Edderick Stormbane Geladryx Khurash
 
The girl did not need to tell the dwarf twice about the immediate danger of the incoming Orc. With battle honed reflexes Buliwyf would twist about gripping for his bearded axe, dropping his heated knife and bravely squaring off towards the Large howling beast. There was no thought wasted upon retreat. Orcs could run dwarves down with ease and these dense forests were more home to the greenskins than they were to the dwarf. No time to place thought on how naked he felt without his armor and shield. Only time to focus on the Violence that will be met with violence which Ironhide was no stranger to the cruelties of slaughter. Even if he had a choice, he would have it no other way, especially when the quarry was of the Orc variety. With both hands gripping his mighty axe he would answer the beasts howl with his own thunderous war cry lunging forward in a counter charge.

Before Dwarf and Orc could close the distance upon each other, the Komodi darted in wielding the very shovel he had been digging holes with as if it was some kind of greatsword. Not just darting to blind side the Orc but to cut him off from reaching him. Buliwyf took note of the lizards instincts to danger and protection and willingness to fight, though poor choice of weapon when he visibly had actual weapons sheathed to his body. Not wanting to lose the momentum he had gathered thus far with his charge, he would continued forward and off to the two now engaged combatant's left side in attempts to outflank the enemy. He unfortunately had yet to see the two other orcs hidden among the tree line for his course of action would of been much different.

Grayhorn Khurash Geladryx Edderick Stormbane
 
Before Ovokk could rise and rush into battle had burst from the underbrush in the direction of the Dwarf only to be cut off by what appeared to be a Komodi. Not that Ovokk knew exactly what he was just that he was neither Dwarf nor Human nor Elf or anything in between.

The Orc would rise regardless, moving quickly after Khurash while a guttural growl tore itself from the back of his throat he'd raise his jagged blade. When Buliwyf Ironhide attempted to outflank Khurash he might hear the heavy footfalls of the Orc who, dropping his shoulder and charging forward would attempt to ram the dwarf and send his careening away.

Afterwards Ovokk would attempt to press the attack, swinging his blade wildly and in a descending diagonal pattern that came down past his hip and looped up to come back around over his shoulder again. No quarter would be given nor asked for.

As for Lurgz, well he had sense to remain back under the cover of the brush where he'd notch an arrow and begin circling around the side of the combatants to flank them on his left in a wide arc. The Bow in his hand raised and he'd begin to take aim into the fray before he noticed the woman, Edderick Stormbane searching frantically for something and with a crooked grin that showed rotten teeth he drew the bowstring tight then released letting fly on a barbed arrow. Not the best shot who can say if Lurgz actually had much chance of actually hitting his target clean.



Deeper in the forest the Orc who captained the raiding party noting that the others hadn't returned yet and that several other Warriors let their gaze drift in that direction would mutter...

"Get these prisoners back to the master. You and you, with me."

...he'd pointed out two other Orcs who'd break off from the others leading their captives. By now the fire from the wagons had stopped too, a sign that the ambush site had been found or that there were survivors unaccounted for. Either way they would soon find out.

Grayhorn

 
Edderick's arm felt the sharp sting of the arrow, her cries screaming out into the air as she grabbed her hand and looked to the thin ork. Her face was filled with rage, her body tensing and she pulled the bag closer to her with her off hand, deciding against finding her healing potion and went for something more drastic. A simple looking bottle filled with a metal spring and the blue and yellow light of something familiar to any native of Volta.


She aimed the bottle, bit her tongue as she got it just right and popped the cork.

The battlefield filled with a blinding light as a deafening crack shot from Edderick's hand. Like a cannon had gone off in a concrete tunnel. Volta was famous for it's destructive and fearsome Lightning storms and magical ingenuity. No example of her homeland had so perfectly captured the essence of what it meant to be from the wastes. Tamed primal energy. Bottled Lightning.

Lurgz's heart would surely have exploded from the electricity using his body to find the earth. In a milisecond a flash and then nothing. it was a brutal display, his skin paler and his veins shown like tree limbs, for each blood vessel would swell from the heat and most likely popped. His hair definately would suffer, singing from his scalp. it is debated whether or not he felt anything.

Her head fell back and she found herself drifting into unconsciousness again. Her injured arm the only thing keeping her awake. She lazily dropped the scorching hot bottle and lazily felt around, finding her original prize. Her last healing potion. Along with the incredibly expensive last resort, Edderick was all out of tricks. She couldn't even summon the strength to put the bottle to her lips. Her brain dozing off again and she struggled to stay awake. The clouds becoming her sole focus as the sounds of battle drifted away.
 
Those horns would make for nice trophies, Khurash thought as a shovel-wielding Komodi raced for him.

He had experience with their kind and knew to be wary of the infernos dwelling in their maws, just a breath away. With this in mind, the stout orc parried the incoming shovel with his long knife, pushing the shovel to his left. He nimbly stepped forward into Grayhorn’s guard, right foot mere inches from the Komodi’s back left heel, and he pivoted on that foot, whipping his axe around as he did with the aim to bury it in the back of the horned one’s thigh.
 
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The actions of the green human confused Grayhorn. Knocking away the shovel made sense. No one liked to be smacked even if they were bad and deserved a smack. But the green human got right in front of him and swung his axe towards Grayhorn. A dangerous thing to do! You could cut someone that way if they didn't have scales like komodi.

The swiftness of it all did more than just confuse Grayhorn. It also spooked him and like any spooked lizard he reacted instinctively. Grayhorn released his spray and began to breath fire towards the green skinned human that was right in front of him.

Khurash Geladryx Edderick Stormbane Buliwyf Ironhide

OOC: Sorry for the delay. Got busy.
 
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The dwarf was blindsided by the Orc's bull-rush. The kinetic impact upon the unsuspecting Ironhide sent him tumbling backwards, his hand losing grip of his bearded axe and sending it fumbling off into the distance as his back crashed onto the ground. He was slightly winded and dazed form the hard fall. From his grounded position Buliwyf could see the orc pressing his attack and not wasting an advantage as he wildly swung his axe to split the dwarf like firewood. There was lightning going off and fire being spat, but the dwarf could not see such as his focus was on the incoming Orc.

Ironhide had little time to react and had committed himself to rolling into the orc and his swing, absorbing a smack from the weapon's shaft upon his left shoulder and just barely avoiding the bladed head. The orc would retract the axe for another swing, giving Buliwyf time to pull his igorot from its metal loop. The weapon was a thing of practical beauty. A combination of axe, meat cleaver and pick, that made it not just a useful tool but a brutal weapon in the hands of a trained warrior.

The orc swung downwards looking to end the dwarf with one mighty swing, but to his surprise the stout creature below him thrusted upwards catching the axe's shaft with a meaty left hand and driving the blade of his igorot into his groin. The orc howled in a bloody roar of pain as the igorot axe cleaved his manhood and deep into his pelvis. the beast involuntarily dropped to his knees before the Dwarven warrior, giving up his grip on the two handed axe while he continued to painfully howl.

Buliwyf tossed the Orc's weapon to the side and stomped on his own weapon, dislodging it from out below the orc letting blood and intestines to slop to the ground. Ironhide did not hesitate, he gripped the igorot with both hands and finished the maimed orc with a powerful swing that took the orc's head clean from the neck, ending it's agony.

Grayhorn Geladryx Edderick Stormbane Khurash
 
If Lurgz had realized what was happening when Edderick Stormbane popped the cork of her bottle he didn't show it. The Orc's mouth was ajar and his eyes wide with surprise as the lightning bolt lanced into him sending electrical arcs across his torso before he fell dead following the expulsion of energy. It was over in a moment and Lurgz was dead, the Orc had no chance against such magicks.

As for Ovokk, he hadn't fared much better. While the larger Orc had seen some initial success with his bull rush a miscalculated blow later saw his blade landing awkwardly over the Dwarf's shoulder in a manner that it would score little more than blunt force trauma.

If Ovokk had more foresight and was more skilled than brutal he might have recovered his blow and followed through with a different attack however some surprise registered in the Orc's gaze as the Dwarf caught his steel down low where it was blunt in a powerful, calloused hand. That was all Ovokk had time to register, a breath later and the cruel steel of the Dwarf's weapon was cutting into his genitals, ripping them free of his body. When the Orc sunk to his knees, clutching his gelded torso he didn't even both looking up amidst a howl of pain before he was beheaded.

It ended just liek that for Ovokk and Lurgz. Khurash was now fighting alone, the others slain in the heat of battle leaving him against multiple enemies.



The Orc's breaking off from the main group moved through the forest quickly. It wouldn't be long until they'd returned to the site of the ambush to see the carnage of battle as the small melee was waged.

Meanwhile the prisoners were lead deeper into the forest. The Orc's might be tracked, their prisoners definitely made no attempt to hide their path but this is likely the last we'd see of them. More than likely their fate was sealed.

Buliwyf Ironhide Grayhorn

 
As Khurash thought, fire poured from the horned one’s maw. An unknowing warrior would have been cooked alive. But Khurash was not unknowing. As the heat of the flames rushed toward him he turned his forward step into a roll.

His bare shoulders grit into the dirt and he came up to his feet, spinning around to confront his foe. Fire clung to one pant leg and he hurriedly patted it out with his knife hand. Around him he heard the crackle of lightning and the screams of a dying orc.
 
The green skinned human escaped from most of the flames. Good. Grayhorn would feel bad if he accidentally burned him to death. He wouldn't be doing his job as a mercy-nary right. Scare and show mercy to bad people. That was what he was suppose to be doing.

The green skinned human was scared properly now yes? Crackle of lighting and screams were even happening around them. It scared Grayhorn so maybe it scared the green skinned human as well? Yes. It made sense. Komodi were bravest because they had the thickest heads. Many humans had told him before how thick in the head he was. The thicker the head the longer it took fear to get in.

Oh! Grayhorn had an idea! It was good idea too! Grayhorn was glad he had his thoughts!

The komodi rushed forward towards the green skinned human as he patted his leg. Was only a small fire. Komodi wouldn't even have noticed. As he rushed forward however he would make another swing with his shovel.

But it was trick! Grayhorn knew the green skinned human would dodge or parry like last time, so as soon as he did that the komodi would immediately follow up with a headbutt like a mountain ram aimed at the green skinned human's own head.

If the green skinned human didn't dodge or parry, but did something else he was still going to follow up with a headbutt even if it just found empty air. He couldn't comprehend the green skinned human doing something different at all.

Khurash
 
Ironhide watched as the recently decapitated orc head roll across the dirt road. Was a split second of reveling in the creature's death before his attention bared upon the only remaining threat that was violently engaged with the Komodi. The orc was larger than the other's signifying he held a higher standing among what ever clan he clan he hailed from. Larger meant he was brutal, ferocious and cunning enough to impose his will upon others to secure more than his fair share of nutrients when it came to feasting. Chieftain, first warrior, a creature held in higher regard than the others. All that meant to Buliwyf was he was not to be underestimated.

The Dwarf moved forward towards the melee, adjusting his grip on the igorot's handle to make sure the recent bloodletting wasn't going to make the shaft slip from his meaty fingers. Ironhide was hesitant to fling himself at the remaining orc fighting the Komodi. There was a greater inheritant risk of being struck down accidentally by the perceived ally in this skirmish. Buliwyf knew nothing of the Komodi's fighting ability, his reactions and movements like he would of a fellow belgrathian. The dilemma, press in and take advantage of outnumbering the orc to gain victory with risk in mind, or hold back to see if the Komodi could take the orc on his own. If the latter failed, that would leave Builwyf fighting the Orc on his own and if he fell that would leave the injured girl defenseless.

With that in mind, there really wasn't much of a choice to be had. The dwarf hustled into a short distance charge in attempts to outflank the Orc and give him more undefended vital targets to swing his unique axe at.

Khurash Geladryx Grayhorn Edderick Stormbane
 
The Melee was over for the Orc's that had accompanied Khurash, fortunately for the Skin Carver other allies would emerge expediently.

The Forrest would come alive with the sounds of snapping brush and foliage as it was disturbed. As they came closer to the ambush site sounds of battle drew the attention of the next trio of Orcs who had broken from the main party escorting the captives deeper into the Ironwood.

The Captain was the first to burst into view on scene right about the time Buliwyf Ironhide was attempting to flank Khurash on his rear. Raising a wicked looking axe he'd have growled...

"Kill the Dwarf first."

...before the two Orc's that had accompanied him rushed forward to see the deed done. Neither of these Orcs were as large as the Captain, their bodies having substantially few scars. They both came brandishing terrible looking blades, swords that were forged by a middling smith at best but served the purpose of killing well enough.

Neither Orc that came at Buliwyf had much in the way of tactics, they swung and stabbed with their swords wildly and with just enough mind not to hit one another.

The Captain, a larger Orc as had been established stayed on the fringe of the melee watching as Khurash engaged the Komodi. Stalking the perimeter he would bark from the rear...

"Kill that one and take its head, Skin Carver! Prove your worth to the Master and he may let you stand at the fore of the first battle when we take this land for ourselves!"

...spittle flung from the Orc's mouth as he called out before noticing the form of Edderick Stormbane who appeared still on the ground. Dead, maybe or maybe not. Adjusting the hold on his axe with a large, calloused palm he began to step forward so that he could check the body.

Grayhorn

 
  • Dwarf
Reactions: Redgar Ironhide
Edderick was comotose for the most part and showed no sign of life outside of a single movement of her fingers around the healing potion. There was a pool of energy within her, but the conflict of magic in the world had waned her ability to tap into it. The magic that she relied on began to fade and mortality showed it's ugly face. The orc looked over her and she looked back to it. Arrow in her arm she lifted it in abrassive and angry protest. A sign of the hand universal in it's vulgar dismissal of their pride and person hood. She accepted her fate. For even magic had begun to die. It was time she went with it.