Kjaran Mak Aodha
Member
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- 141
- Character Biography
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"Someone's going to have to deal with him".
'Him' was an orc currently stalking up and down the no man's land between the two armies. Magnificently built, he'd disdained most armour for this display. The rippling muscle, scars, tattoos, and war paint made for an intimidating sight. Kjaran tore his gaze away and swore as he looked at the cards in his hand. "Putting me off" he said, glowering while one of the others raked in the pot.
"Why? Fat lot of good all that prancing about is doing". The human army was encamped on a low rise and showing no signs of leaving it. The orcish force was eager for battle but not so much that they were going to charge uphill against prepared positions. They'd settled for shouting insults and taunts, with champions like the young orc marching out to challenge the cowardly humans to come fight.
"He's giving me a headache is what he is" Kjaran said. He gave a look around. Older soldiers were slumped in waiting, dicing, playing cards, chatting, or sleeping. It was the younger ones who were paler faced, gulping as they eyed up the opposition. "And putting the wind up in our wee boys an' girls". The orc seem frustrated. It had been entertaining at first
"Not serious are ya? You seen the size of him?!" Rian looked disbelieving. Kjaran shrugged, "Big just means easier to hit". "He's about half your age as well. I can think of better ways to commit suicide". The Blightlander grinned and pushed forward the last of his coins, "Well if I don't come back then you can have these". "I can win them off you dicing. No need to put me in the will".
Kjaran rose, groaning as his back cracked. "You're fucking cracked Kjar, he'd make mincemeat of any man that went at him" Rian said. The older man shook his head and turned to a silent figure that stood watching the champion. "Hai, Daithi!". The orc scout turned to regard the humans with an impassive stare. "What's yer man saying? Can you translate?".
The sombre looking orc gave a sigh but turned his attention back to the opposing side, eyes narrowing as he strained his ears. "He calls us cowards. He wishes to know are there any among us worthy to be called men." He frowned as he listened more, shaking his head before he continued. "He says that the womenfolk of his tribe will feast on our eyes and that he will provide for our women since we cannot".
"I'm not sure he put it that eloquently" Rian quipped. The orc made an obscene gesture and then grabbed at his groin for emphasis. "Fuck it, I'm going" Kjaran said, "I'm not staying here watching Billy Big Bollocks dance about". He stooped to grab his shield, strapping it to his arm. He drew his sword and began to push through the press.
Murmurs began to grow louder as word spread someone was going out. Kjaran winced and rolled his shoulder, working out a kink. "Too fucking old" he muttered, stepping out from the lines and walking down the slope. The orc had been focused on riling up his own side but he turned as he heard the noise grow from the human lines.
He was big. Kjaran was a big man but the orc wasn't much shy of seven foot. Big even among a race that seemed to consist of musclebound berserks and warriors. His tusked smile grew as he looked down at the human before he spoke in mangled Common. "It is good you are brave. You die first". Kjaran just smiled, the response puzzling the orc. He snarled and came forward, swinging his sword.
It became apparent in seconds that the human was outmatched. Kjaran didn't even try to match him strength for strength. Nearly two decades younger and half a foot taller, the orc was a powerhouse. Kjaran sidestepped, stumbled backwards, and ducked as the orc kept him on the defensive. His shield was notched and half smashed in by the orc's sledgehammer blows.
Laughter came from the orcish side as they saw their champion toy with the human. He himself seemed frustrated to be given such easy prey. Kjaran kept his sword up, backing away. His shield lay splintered and cloven on the grass. He parried one slash, then another, the blows nearly staggering him. There were howls of delight from the orcs as they saw the human stumble, hopping frantically with a twisted ankle.
"Stop running coward" the orc snarled, half feeling like the laughter was directed at him. He'd wanted to humiliate the humans, not be an actor in a comedy troupe. The human cowered, dropping his sword and holding up his hands. The orc bared teeth, charging forward to finish him.
The human moved with a speed he shouldn't have had. Kjaran stepped inside the wide swing and stabbed upwards. The knife punched through cartilage and skin, through the lower jaw and up into the skull. The orc grunted. Kjaran twisted the knife once. A gurgling sound came from the orc's mouth, blood dripping out.
Kjaran stepped to the side. The orc took a few tottering steps forward, hands clawing at his jaw before he collapsed onto his knees. Kjaran sighed and moved to pick up his sword. He moved to the orc and grabbed him by the hair. A hushed silence had fallen over the two sides. Kjaran hacked off the orc champion's head in full view of the armies, grunting with the effort. It took four blows to take t off.
He held aloft the head and tossed it towards the orc lines, turning his back on them. Cheers sounded as he made his way back up the hill. Panting from the effort, he pushed back towards Rian and resumed his seat, bloodstained and red faced. He picked up the deck of cards and started shuffling them.
"You were lucky" "Nah, just smarter. Who's dealing?"
'Him' was an orc currently stalking up and down the no man's land between the two armies. Magnificently built, he'd disdained most armour for this display. The rippling muscle, scars, tattoos, and war paint made for an intimidating sight. Kjaran tore his gaze away and swore as he looked at the cards in his hand. "Putting me off" he said, glowering while one of the others raked in the pot.
"Why? Fat lot of good all that prancing about is doing". The human army was encamped on a low rise and showing no signs of leaving it. The orcish force was eager for battle but not so much that they were going to charge uphill against prepared positions. They'd settled for shouting insults and taunts, with champions like the young orc marching out to challenge the cowardly humans to come fight.
"He's giving me a headache is what he is" Kjaran said. He gave a look around. Older soldiers were slumped in waiting, dicing, playing cards, chatting, or sleeping. It was the younger ones who were paler faced, gulping as they eyed up the opposition. "And putting the wind up in our wee boys an' girls". The orc seem frustrated. It had been entertaining at first
"Not serious are ya? You seen the size of him?!" Rian looked disbelieving. Kjaran shrugged, "Big just means easier to hit". "He's about half your age as well. I can think of better ways to commit suicide". The Blightlander grinned and pushed forward the last of his coins, "Well if I don't come back then you can have these". "I can win them off you dicing. No need to put me in the will".
Kjaran rose, groaning as his back cracked. "You're fucking cracked Kjar, he'd make mincemeat of any man that went at him" Rian said. The older man shook his head and turned to a silent figure that stood watching the champion. "Hai, Daithi!". The orc scout turned to regard the humans with an impassive stare. "What's yer man saying? Can you translate?".
The sombre looking orc gave a sigh but turned his attention back to the opposing side, eyes narrowing as he strained his ears. "He calls us cowards. He wishes to know are there any among us worthy to be called men." He frowned as he listened more, shaking his head before he continued. "He says that the womenfolk of his tribe will feast on our eyes and that he will provide for our women since we cannot".
"I'm not sure he put it that eloquently" Rian quipped. The orc made an obscene gesture and then grabbed at his groin for emphasis. "Fuck it, I'm going" Kjaran said, "I'm not staying here watching Billy Big Bollocks dance about". He stooped to grab his shield, strapping it to his arm. He drew his sword and began to push through the press.
Murmurs began to grow louder as word spread someone was going out. Kjaran winced and rolled his shoulder, working out a kink. "Too fucking old" he muttered, stepping out from the lines and walking down the slope. The orc had been focused on riling up his own side but he turned as he heard the noise grow from the human lines.
He was big. Kjaran was a big man but the orc wasn't much shy of seven foot. Big even among a race that seemed to consist of musclebound berserks and warriors. His tusked smile grew as he looked down at the human before he spoke in mangled Common. "It is good you are brave. You die first". Kjaran just smiled, the response puzzling the orc. He snarled and came forward, swinging his sword.
It became apparent in seconds that the human was outmatched. Kjaran didn't even try to match him strength for strength. Nearly two decades younger and half a foot taller, the orc was a powerhouse. Kjaran sidestepped, stumbled backwards, and ducked as the orc kept him on the defensive. His shield was notched and half smashed in by the orc's sledgehammer blows.
Laughter came from the orcish side as they saw their champion toy with the human. He himself seemed frustrated to be given such easy prey. Kjaran kept his sword up, backing away. His shield lay splintered and cloven on the grass. He parried one slash, then another, the blows nearly staggering him. There were howls of delight from the orcs as they saw the human stumble, hopping frantically with a twisted ankle.
"Stop running coward" the orc snarled, half feeling like the laughter was directed at him. He'd wanted to humiliate the humans, not be an actor in a comedy troupe. The human cowered, dropping his sword and holding up his hands. The orc bared teeth, charging forward to finish him.
The human moved with a speed he shouldn't have had. Kjaran stepped inside the wide swing and stabbed upwards. The knife punched through cartilage and skin, through the lower jaw and up into the skull. The orc grunted. Kjaran twisted the knife once. A gurgling sound came from the orc's mouth, blood dripping out.
Kjaran stepped to the side. The orc took a few tottering steps forward, hands clawing at his jaw before he collapsed onto his knees. Kjaran sighed and moved to pick up his sword. He moved to the orc and grabbed him by the hair. A hushed silence had fallen over the two sides. Kjaran hacked off the orc champion's head in full view of the armies, grunting with the effort. It took four blows to take t off.
He held aloft the head and tossed it towards the orc lines, turning his back on them. Cheers sounded as he made his way back up the hill. Panting from the effort, he pushed back towards Rian and resumed his seat, bloodstained and red faced. He picked up the deck of cards and started shuffling them.
"You were lucky" "Nah, just smarter. Who's dealing?"