Open Chronicles Retribution

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Eren'thiel Xyrdithas

Broken Sword
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Rain fell harshly upon streets of stone. Horse and carriage creaked and splashed along, going this way and that. Men and women, with feet no doubt soaked, carried on whichever way.

Street lanterns swayed.

A dreary, damp cold gripped tight, and one's breath could easily be seen.

It seemed neither the time or weather needed any heeding here, but for a place so lively it felt so... still. It almost... didn't feel real...


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From under the shelter of a small nook, with a hood covered head Erën peeked out into the street. It was late, and still the streets were as crowded as any hub in Vel-Anir. There was not a person walking or riding without a heavy cloak or coat about them, but otherwise these were people obviously accustomed to such a heavy and persistent rainfall.

As for where he was, he knew not it's name, or its ways. In fact he'd never heard tell of a city in this place, set against the river just west of the Spine. Further west, in the midst of the river, there was a tall island with a fortress set upon it. Though now through the dark and the rain it was difficult to see, in the light it appears as a daunting fixture, set high up overlooking the city from afar, with dark flags flying. He'd heard nothing during his time here about it, however people spoke very little to even one another it seemed, at least in passing or while they were walking.

He could hear the sound of a bar or the like some ways down the street, and as pedestrians began to dwindle, there the bustle remained. The other way became quiet, and cool. A distant streetlamp gently swung and flickered, and as Erën's eyes drifted away from there, he caught a glimpse of a figure, standing behind the light.

His eyes shot back.

The figure was gone.

He frowned, and kept his attention there for a while longer, daring whoever or whatever it was to show themselves again.


(OOC: There is a path I have in mind but would love any deviation.)
 
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Nothing returned.

It was of little concequence or surprise - more and more it seemed Erën's mind was insistent on playing tricks on him. His memory seemed to lapse, and even his journey here was spotty and incomplete. He rationalized it all with possible and even likely cause, but the truth of the matter was something else. He knew this, but he avoided it and hid himself from this truth. He could not yet face it.

Eventually, he released his tension with a quiet sigh, and the intensity in his eyes faded. Almost lazily his eyes tracked to one side, and then he leaned a little more comfortably against the wall at his back.

The rain hadn't changed, not even a bit, but the wind grew cooler.

Then, it was like a cloud settled over and in the city. Lights dimmed. Noise faded. Reality... seemed different.

Eyes. Eyes in the dark. He felt them, but he could not see. Out in the street, on the sides of buildings and on the bottoms of balconies, circles began to appear. They were dim at first, but grew brighter. Runes were within them, with other horrid markings, and when they were all fully lit, slowly, they began to turn.

He held his place, anxious and curious to see what was about to take place. He also felt that whatever it was, he would have no choice but to answer it.


 
The air grew thick, and through the wash of rainfall a pungent and putrid scent reached his nose. His nostrils flared in protest - the smell of rotten hate touching them. He stiffened, and his hand reached for his sword.

A circle, casting its red light, began to crackle. So to did another, and then another.

He readied himself, and prepared to take himself out from under his cover - but a hand shot out from a sudden opening behind him, and drew him inside with a forceful and urgent grasp. His balance failed him in the confusion, and he was tossed inside into a roll onto his back, which he promptly moved to scramble himself up from.

"Wait!"

It was a hushed, and fearful plea, one he chose to heed. His initial compulsion to lash out in retaliation was stayed, and as he rose to his feet he offered up the gesture of an open palm. Truce. His eyes failed him not, and he saw clearly who it was that had pulled him inside. Though it had been brief, it was unmistakable - it was the figure he'd seen just moments before, hidden under a heavy, and tattered black cloak. He could see that they wore armour beneath, but could not tell its make. Their face was hidden in shadow, but fine features could be faintly made out.

"Look closely," they said, their voice soft.

They started and motioned toward a nearby window, which was small and grimey.

Erën was cautious for a moment, but he did go and look. Through the glass he watched as strange creatures emerged from the arcane symbols. They were long and ghastly things, with smooth features, sharp claws, and it appeared... no eyes. They were black, and their hide appeared more like forged metal than anything. Once they'd fully emerged, they set themselves down onto the street, and lingered there for a short time.

From them, he heard an unsettling clicking.

"Do you see them?"

"...what are they?"

By the way he stared, it should have been obvious.

"I... do not know, they have only shown themselves a handful of times the last few months..." they paused and drew in an uncertain breath, "only certain people can see them, and..."

Their voice trailed off as the creatures turned their attention toward the remaining crowd down the street. Erën heard a few clicks exchanged between the creatures, who numbered about half a dozen, and then they began to stalk their way toward the crowd, who had not yet taken any notice of what was happening.


 
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Erën was eager, not just to defend the oblivious innocents, but simply to attack. These creatures roused in him a unknown need to slay them. It was as though something in his very blood was aggravated at the sight of them. He moved for the closed door he'd been pulled in through.

"Wait..." a hand grasped his arm, "you cannot face them alone."

He turned back, his expression stern, "will you not aid me?"

He was released, and the figure backed into the shadow, and... disappeared. Erën looked this way and that, certain they had not simply vanished, but uncertain of where they had gone. A sudden crash outside drew his attention, and out through the door he went.



Just outside a nearby bar, several groups of people had gathered. In the rain. And they stood there in a peculiar and almost haunting way, saying nothing, entranced by something. Just inside there were the sounds of music and laughter, but out here... nothing.

About them, several of the creatures encroached. One had leapt up onto a canopy, which tore, sending the beast crashing into a wagon below it, which was evident by the wreckage it had left. In spite of this the people ahead paid no heed. It was like they didn't even hear it. Like they really couldn't see it. Erën was hesitant for a moment, but when it was clear these things could quite obviously percieve the people they approached, he started forward with haste. He shouted to them, but no one turned to see...

Only did the creatures.

And one bellowed out at him with fury, before each of them turned on him, and leapt to attack him.


 
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Toruuk couldn't quite decide how he felt about this strange city he'd meandered into. It seemed to appear on the borders of Candenord without warning, without explanation. Where one day the scouts of Clan Stoneheart recalled nothing being here, now there was...this. Dark, dreary, wet, cold...these were traits at least consistent with the badlands of Candenord, but the city seemed to magnify these traits. So on one hand, there was a strange new place for the Wandering Champion to explore, one not so distant from his home, nor from the teleport stone local to the Spine. On the other hand, this place was uncomfortably close to Yore, and the mere existence of it cast a grim shadow over the bull's heart.

Champion of Clan Stoneheart as he was, Toruuk took it upon himself to investigate further. His fur had become matted and soaked from his time in the rain, traipsing the dimly lit streets and searching for any sign of an answer to the city's enigma. Fruitless efforts, of course...whether by some foul magic or by choice, the denizens refused to even acknowledge the presence of the lumbering behemoth, let alone answer his pointed questions. What was worse, a haze seemed to be slowly forming on the edges of the bull's own mind; for the life of him, he couldn't remember what direction to travel in order to leave. Every time he rounded a corner he got the sudden feeling he was right back where he started, much to his chagrin.

The bull grew weary. Nowhere to go, nothing to do, no one to talk to, and time didn't seem to move. He could've sworn he'd been here for a full day already, yet night never passed. Maybe it was best to find a dry corner to sit in and wait for Clan Thunderhoof to send a shaman or two to bail him out...they'd be better equipped to deal with the mystical and the weird than he was, after all.

That was what he'd concluded until his ear pricked up, flicking rain off to collect indistinguishably on the cobblestone street below him. A distant crash. It wasn't much to go on, but it certainly broke the monotony around him. He stepped towards the noise, craning his head to hear better among the pitter patter of precipitation. An otherworldly howl pierced the night. That was more than enough to go on.

Toruuk broke into a jog, heavy hoofbeats colliding with cobblestone, water spraying out from beneath him with each step. He unhooked the miniature ballista on his back, loaded it with a javelin-sized bolt, and gripped the weapon tight in his weathered mitts. The sound hadn't been far, and rounding a corner out of an alleyway the bull was treated to a barrage of new information: steely black abominations crawling about the street before him, seemingly unnoticed by all but an...admittedly familiar looking elven warrior who'd apparently drawn their attention in return. As one of the fiends lunged to strike the elf, Toruuk shouldered the oversized crossbow and fired it with an audible *crack* as the tension released intent on skewering the creature.
 
Its movements were otherworldly. Long, and almost lanky as they were, it was like they slithered as they moved. As they turned to approach, Erën noticed their long, and barb tipped tails. But there was little time to further assess them, for it was now, with a speed that would frighten those less seasoned, they were upon him.

He was quick to shift his foot, and draw his sword to the ready.

It leapt high, and far.

Crack!
The sound had little time to reach his ear before the attacking monster was not only impaled, but blown to pieces entirely in a grotesque spattering of hard black shards, limbs, and a viscous, green fluid. With the javelin so broad and the beast so lithe, it never stood a chance. While parts of it still tumbled and fell, Erën stepped forward and through the fresh carnage. He honed in on the closest of the monsters as it barreled down on him, and wasted no time in pulling from the well of his magic. With the swing of his sword he loosed a bright flash of lightning at it. It struck, but rather than cause the creature to suffer, the lightning was instead deflected away by its apparently resistant armour. All the while it continued forward, leaving him little choice but to test his blade against it.

It came near, and then with a remarkable display if intelligence it feigned an attack before veering to the side, making way for another one following closely behind to leap forward and strike. The first, joined by a few others, charged past Erën to engage Toruuk behind him. That left them each with three to deal with.

While the monster's tactic had surprised him, he was more than familiar with such a strategy. The first ducked around him, and the second was just there on its heels, now just seconds from reaching him. Erën stepped hard on his left leg, and launched himself to the right, swinging his sword across to strike the monster's outstretched arm as it reached for him. It struck with a sound like steel on steel, sparks flew, but the limb did sever and fall, causing the monster to stumble and fall into a heap. He'd have finished it then if it weren't for another of the monsters attacking him already. This one was slightly different, and it seemed its arm had changed shape into the likeness if a long, curved blade.

It swung down at him as it came close, and his steel met it. He parried it to the side, and slid to strike an opening it left. Its tail whipped up and swooped around to strike him. He was forced to leap back, and in the midst of his sudden retreat he decided it would be better for him to close the gap between him and Toruuk, and fight them together. He turned to see him, engaging the monsters...



 
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Bingo! Toruuk pumped his fist as the bolt struck the creature and watched it burst, its torso erupting like a gore-filled balloon. There was no more time to celebrate, however; six of the little buggers threatened them in total. As Erën unleashed a flash of lightning magic Toruuk was already arming another oversized bolt into his ballista. The trio of monsters that skittered by the elf were blindingly quick, though, and while the bull had enough time to reload, he hadn't enough time to take aim...and that was just fine with him.

The bastard abominations thought to rush Toruuk as a group, evidently. Two ran ahead of the third, each of them barreling towards him until at the last second the front two veered off to each side of the bull. The third leapt up from behind and lunged through the air, each of its fingers tipped in a razor sharp, six inch nail. With a grunt, Toruuk swept his crossbow upwards to intercept, head of the armed bolt hanging over the front, and impaled the thing midair over the front of his makeshift bolt thrower. The creature refused to die that easily though, as it continued to reach for the bull, claws raking at the armor of his gauntlets. Toruuk promptly aimed the crossbow towards the nearest building and fired it into the wall, skewering the creature to it at breakneck speed.

All this took precious seconds Toruuk didn't have. The other two were more than eager to capitalize on their comrade's summary deletion. One of them jabbed its tail into one of the cracks between the armored plates on the bull's leg. He snarled and fell down to one knee as searing pain immediately racked him, then immediately swung his fist to punish his aggressor. Unfortunately for that particular fiend, its tail had become wedged in Toruuk's armor. He struck it with such force that it went flying, but its tail ripped from its body with a sickening squelch.

The last one had started to move in, but doubled back when it realized its compatriots had both gotten smashed aside for their troubles, instead moving to form a circle around both Toruuk and Erën as the latter moved to group up with the bull. Toruuk's vision was already starting to swim...wonderful, some kind of venom, most likely. He could feel the muscles in his calf start to seize, but he powered though for now and pulled himself back to his feet, drawing his twin axes from his belt as he did and further closing the gap between himself and the elf. As soon as he could, Toruuk placed his back to the more nimble warrior beside him...best not to let the remaining monsters get the drop on them or they likely wouldn't be making it out of this little encounter.
 
"Get. Off."

CRACK!

BOOM!


Not far from the elf and man, just a block away, a brick wall exploded outwards. Spraying stone, brick and creature guts onto the streets, emerged a hooded figure. Half of the creatures surrounding the duo turned towards the new source, a steaming figure of gray and silver holding up what was left of his foe, dripping its innards onto the cobblestones. His look had changed to suit the environment, draped in dark robes to blend in better amongst both populace and the environment alike. The creature struggled in his grip, weakened but defiant, clawing and snapping in futile resistance.

With an off-handed swing, the creature was bisected from its waist down, its lower half thrown some distance away. The cleaved flesh sizzled and smoked, sealed by the sheer heat of the weapon- A runed greatsword, dripping liquid fire from its skull guard into the carved runes in the flat of the blade. It sizzled in the humid air, resting in a reverse-grip.

Traecon Maxwell breathed long and hard, as he took in more of these creatures and their targets for the night. One of the two, the elf, rang with familiarity. He could not place who it was. It had been months since he had worked with others on any sort of contract after the town of Gorinsbin. He digressed.

Onto the matter at hand.

Even in the darkness he could hear them, those fiendish creatures scampering about the rooftops to find the source of that noise. He only had himself to blame for that one - the creature had pounced on him without warning, as he was counting his earnings from working the nearby forge. He had already reimbursed the owner of the brick wall behind him, but it was such a waste of hard-earned coin. He had planned to move to Elbion later and catch up with a mage there with what he had.

With a flex of his hand, the corpse's head was crushed, its remains flopping onto the road like a dead fish. He heard screeches and hisses in response, as more dropped down from the roofs surrounding them. Even some of the creatures surrounding the duo were diverted to him. He counted at least a dozen in total, dead black eyes locked onto his form. He could see nothing in them. Not even a hint of murderous intent for the death of one of their own. Unsettling, but he could muse on it later. He had already found his weapon capable of wounding them. And when wounded they bled like any man or creature.

He needed nothing else. His grip tightened ever so slightly.

And they were upon him.

BOOM!

There was no delay between the beginning and the end. The dozen or so creatures so poised to rend Traecon to shreds were instantly repelled. But by no feat of magic from the warrior's person. No, he was not one for the arcane arts. That did not mean he didn't have tricks of his own, however, refined over the months to produce particular effects.

The fiends were hurled back by a force of heat and pushed air, slamming into the houses around them with varying force. Some were left unmoving, the impact having turned their innards to mush. Others bounced back instantly, and slithered through the dark roads like demented serpents, circling him like vultures to prey.

Traecon swung his sword about, settling into a longsword stance. Let them come.

They would die just like the one at his feet.


Eren'thiel Xyrdithas
Toruuk Stoneheart
 
Ravenous beasts they were, clawing and scratching, hissing and snapping. Slowly Erën's feet stepped down, further and further back. They stalked him, carefully, and paused when he'd finally made it to Toruuk's side. And he remembered more clearly now as Toruuk's stature loomed overhead - yes... he knew this one, from the Dark Tower south of here, some time ago. He'd feared that the minotaur had perished that day, and was thankful that he had not, and lived to be here now. These creatures likely would have had him were it not for Toruuk's interference. Should the time come, Erën would return the gesture in kind.

Their backs together now, Erën's eyes tracked across the beasts around them as they hesitated.

A deep breath entered his chest, and slowly it left. His hold on his sword tightened. His feet slid harder onto the ground. He felt their anticipation. He felt it too. And again, his desire to slay them washed over, and he felt his mouth grow hot. Teeth, clenched.

Rain fell.

A snapping jaw, a swooping tail, but still they stayed their ground. Taunting. Intimidating. But he did not faulter, he did not fear them.

Then the strange quiet was gone, and in a burst of movement and sound everything changed.

A wall down the street was blown apart with a loud boom. This agitated the monsters around them, and caused them to attack. Erën had no time to turn his head to see, but his ears heard much. More of the monsters encroached, those around him moved in, and there was yet another who had come to face them. But still, they were vastly outnumbered - there was no reprieve to be had yet.

The gap was closed, and as the monsters on Erën's side moved in, he reacted. Fueled now to defend his ally's back, the fervour of his blade was made more.

He was fluid, lurching forward and stepping across to swipe his sword across and through one of them, dragging his sword clean through the beast to leave it like a carved bird waiting to be devoured. Another managed to grasp him, and sink its claws into his left shoulder just seconds before Erën's sword found it, and plunged its way up through the bottom of its jaw and out the top of its skull. With a violent pull and twist Erën freed his sword, pulling the creature's head apart from the inside. The final of his three immediate foes had taken the time to circumvent him, and charge toward Toruuk.

He'd not have that.

The aura of his magic took shape around him and trailed as he bolted toward the creature. He leapt into the air, and with unnatural speed granted to him he closed the space between his target and he, and landed on its back with a display of force more befitting to one like Toruuk than an elf such as he. Then, in a dizzying whirl he spun several times as he sliced the monster's long head into thin, flimsy strips that slid onto the soaked cobble.

His eyes turned up, ready to aid his allies...


 
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Of the dozen that once circled him, four had been slain by the outburst he generated. The others were still spry, and eager for blood. He would give it to them.

A pity they came in a line. If they lunged at once he would have been in trouble. As it was?

He exhaled once, as the first lunged at near blinding speed. With a smooth lunge the creature was neatly cleft in twain. Another leapt above the remains mid air, claws raised to strike.

An upward slash, and two halved bodies fell behind him. He advanced still, his blade now visibly bleeding blood from the faces and runes carved into its edge. He breathed again, wisps of white trailing from his mask. Moving as if he were more machine than man, he moved through the remaining foes with clockwork footwork and swings of his blade. Bifurcated, the corpses did not bleed until they hit the ground, their wounds sealed shut by the heat of his blade.

With a long breath of mist, he turned back to the duo defending themselves. More creatures were upon them, even though he had culled their numbers some, they were still coming. He could hear them still, more about the rooftops - the cunning ones, waiting for weaknesses to exploit.

He would give them none.

With a brief inhale, he focused. His body heat had reached required levels of temperature to pull off the maneuver. His shoulders and back began to steam, his blade glowing like a torch as he fed it his bodily heat, circulating it to maximize the total thrust.

Boom!
Like cannonfire the air cracked, and he rocketed forward, slamming through more bodies as he reached the two. A vibrant fiery flash, and three more dropped dead. He finished his dash by landing foot first atop a fourth creature, crushing its head underfoot.

"Above us, on the rooftops."

He punched a creature mid-lunge, beheading it a second later.

"They seem coordinated."

Settling into a two-handed grip, Traecon noticed the blade's heat seemed to keep these creatures at bay, now aware of the weapon's danger.


Eren'thiel Xyrdithas
Toruuk Stoneheart
 
Toruuk had been ready to help fight a pitched battle, but suddenly the elf at his side became an elegant whirlwind of swordsmanship and spellcasting. A blur of white-blonde hair and silvered steel whipped about him at speeds he briefly couldn't keep up with, a storm of motion that almost reminded him of one particular Vizier he'd sparred with long ago...

But this was no metal-armed Imperial mage. No, this was someone he could hardly forget: Eren'thiel Xyrdithas, the warrior he'd fought beside on the Longest Night. He flashed a toothy grin; this was no longer a desperate battle for survival. This was a competition.

The bull shook the stiffness out of his envenomed leg, rolled his neck with a loud *crack*, tightened his grip and prepared to start wiping out the skittering swarm about them. Time for some fun!

*Boom!*

Before he could even take a step, an explosion of activity erupted just down the street, a stone wall of a building splintering into fragments as another mage-fighter entered the fray, dragging many more of the creatures with him. This one he didn't recognize, but he seemed to match Erën in speed and exceed him in ferocity. Damn it all, they were quickly running out of things to kill!

"Baaahhh! Doesn't anyone just use good ol' fashioned grit and iron anymore?!" The Champion roared in frustration, absentmindedly cleaving a nearby creature in half as it tried to lunge at him.

Never one to be outdone, Toruuk lowered his head and charged at a nearby pack, goring one, two, three of the fiends not fortunate or quick enough to get out of the bull's way before whipping his head to one side to launch their corpses off of his horns. The moment he came to a halt he whipped one of his axes into an uppercut, cleaving apart every creature its permanently-sharp edge made contact with.

The bull puffed steam from his nostrils as he began to carve through every nearby creature he could see, his movements shockingly fast for the behemoth that he was. Shortly, however, there were none left to mulch.

"Above us, on the rooftops."

That was all Toruuk had to hear. He holstered his axes, reached down towards the street, and dug his fingers into the cobblestone. The muscles in his arms and chest rippled and he ground his teeth as he pulled at what he could until finally, with a deafening roar, the bull ripped a massive chunk of masonry out of the ground.

With another sharp grunt of exertion, Toruuk whipped the huge hunk of stone and dirt around and lobbed it up at the rooftops like it was nothing. Another thundering boom rung out as the makeshift projectile collided with the top of the nearest building, splintering wood and showering debris and dust in a huge radius around the impact.

Then, the bull listened as the wreckage settled. Screeching and skittering, receding from the rooftops; heavy rain hammering the ground all around them; his own heavy breathing and the soft pounding of his heart...after all that, the trio of warriors was alone.

"Hnngh. Seems like they ran off...for now, at least." He grumbled to the other two men, then spat into the hole he'd left where street used to be. He plodded back towards his apparent allies and sat down beside a building. Clutching his leg, he began the arduous process of removing his armor...he'd need to check that stab wound...
 
With little trouble, the combined might of Toruuk and Erën dispatched the first wave. Traecon's explosive display brought the three together and solidified their hold on the situation. Now they had the street cleared, but the presence of those things still haunted him in a way no other foe had. There was something about these creatures, but he knew not what, like they were familiar but... not.

"Above us, on the rooftops."

Erën's eyes turned up, and their acuity cut through the rain and dark, and caught quick flashes of movement. Indeed, they were just there. While his eyes searched above, in his peripheral Erën noticed Toruuk's movements, and was quick to guess his next move. So Erën to stay his ground, sword at the ready.

"They seem coordinated."

Yes... almost like-

Toruuk's roar cut through the night, and it was like the whole world held her breath in that brief moment after. Then with a deep grunt, Toruuk's chosen weapon was loosed, and hurled toward its mark. Under the weight of the mass and the force propelling it, the structure it met had little hope of withstanding. Amid the sound of crashing and crumbling and into the aftermath, Erën too heard the sounds of retreat, and his posture eased, and he looked up to the wreckage. He contemplated the fleeing beasts for a moment, before turning his eyes down the street. Those who had been idly standing had now also vanished. He looked about, and noticed the street lanterns too had all gone out, save a few nearest to them.

For all the anxiety such a peculiar circumstance could and likely should have induced, he was far too... used to this. Still, he was not so foolish as to ignore it as coincidence, but instead just another layer to the growing uncertainty of this place.

"Hnngh. Seems like they ran off...for now, at least."

He breathed a long breath through his nose, and turned to join Toruuk near the building, which was tall enough to shelter them from the blowing rain.

As he drew near, he addressed Toruuk with a hand over his chest, "hail, Chieftain, I am fortunate you have come here."

He turned his head toward Traecon, and a similar gesture was offered, "and you my friend," he remembered Traecon too. Getting a closer look at the shadowy figure he now recognized him, and recalled their joint efforts in Gorinsbin... that horrid place, "it seems fate is determined to pit us against the same evils in these lands..."


 
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The muscles in his arms and chest rippled and he ground his teeth as he pulled at what he could until finally, with a deafening roar, the bull ripped a massive chunk of masonry out of the ground.
He stared in blank shock, awed at the feat of raw strength he just witnessed. And saw that same piece hurled into the rooftops like a farmer would hurl stacks of hay atop a cart. With far more devastating effect, as the structure fell apart from the impact, scattering the creatures far and away. That seemed a signal for retreat, as the rest of those things slithered away, hissing and growling all the while.

Perhaps at the missed opportunity, or they too were cowed by the feat they had witnessed. Traecon wagered on the latter. Having the strength to do what he could was one thing. What this man-bull had accomplished was quite another. Mayhaps if he had retained his own gauntlet, a similar feat would have been possible, but damned vampires and their metallurgy.

With a flourish, the greatsword was sheathed, its fires dimming into a dull steel. The skullguard of the sword was still alight with flame, a precaution, should those same creatures decide to return. He took another moment to stare at the hole in the ground, still in slight disbelief.

He was quite ignorant in the ways of the world and its people, he mused.

He looked up when the elf greeted him. Reciprocating the gesture in turn, he bowed.

"Hail, warrior-elf."

He glanced at the remains of those foul fiends at his feet. At the mention of the evils of Gorinsbin, he frowned beneath his mask. These weren't anything like the ghouls of those bloodsuckers. Their eyes were black pits, almost like insects in their shape and shine in the dark lights. He knelt before one such creature, its lower half cut off. The skin shone obsidian and pale gray, darkness shaped into skin.

He rapped at it, on both its head and the body. He expected a dull thunk of metal and flesh.

He did not expect the ringing of metal. Like steel.

This... ringing, was especially pronounced on the claws and their forearms, where the blackness was most prevalent, even spiking from their skin like barbed armor. What kind of vampire could create such foul monsters? More demon than man, and with none of the features to tell it was once of flesh and blood. He glanced up, across the road where his handiwork lay.

Those corpses did not bleed crimson. Droplets of inky black poured from their wounds, viscous and oily. He was tempted to set them on fire, see the reaction between that and his flame.


"No ghoul can be so warped."

He rose, ripping off the creature's head at his feet. Holding it up in the dim light, his frown deepened at the grim visage staring back. Dropping it, he crushed it underfoot.

"A different evil. Far more depraved."



Eren'thiel Xyrdithas
Toruuk Stoneheart
 
A collapsed building and a bunch of freakish little otherworldly cretins ran off all in one go. All in a day's work for the champion of Clan Stoneheart. He wrestled with the leather straps that held his leg armor in place, audibly complaining about the fact as he did so. He glanced up from his task at Erën's greeting and shot the elf a wry grin.
"Aw, please, call me 'champ' or 'Toruuk.' The chieftan's my old man." He replied with a flex of his nostrils and a shake of a leather strap. "Glad ta' see a familiar face, anyhow."

He shook the armor plating and with a bit of a grinding noise the things came free at last. He ran a hand over the wound and winced. It was tender, and as he peeled the fur back around the hole in his leg he could see that the wound was seeping with that same black ick that the creature's seemed to bleed, his veins surrounding the hole already starting to blacken and throb.
"Well that ain't good." He rubbed the area, flexed his thigh, and pressed at the veins, attempting to push what he could back out of his body. Sure, the venom hadn't killed him yet, but that could've just been owed to his incredible size and natural resilience. Weird, possibly magical poison was always better left out of the body rather than in it. "Don't suppose either of you fellas know what ta' do about this little predicament, huh?"

For now a couple of tourniquets would have to do. He pulled a couple of scraps of cloth from one of his belt pockets and began to tightly tie them around his leg. As he did he looked up and down the street, trying to glean...well, something from their surroundings.
"I take it the answer is 'no' since ya don't seem to know what these little buggers even are. Come to think of it, what the hell is this place?"