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Post by Ak'ka the Bonegrinder on Feb 21, 2024 14:58:41 GMT -5
Hearthside was nice if ya liked quaint little villages that looked like they oughtta be made from gingerbread instead of wood. Ak’ka was only in town a couple’a days. Passin’ through to head back home after a couple months on the road. The warmer the weather got, the more unbearable it was for the eternally frostbitten merc. Money was good, and she’d made fuck all progress on her revenge traveling around the world. It was probably high time to help her home out for a bit. The good thing about Dragon’s cradle - a bit of a double-edged sword, actually - was that there was so much fuckin’ work for a mercenary to take. Natural disasters, traveler’s needin’ help, highway robberies… slowed down her travel a hell of a lot but the money was damn good. She’d been making her way up north until she stopped at Hearthside, just at the edge of the country near the Ash Lands. A place filled with refugees from the volcano’s explosion, all hanging onto hope by a thread. The place seemed pretty grim, so she figured she’d help finish some reconstruction around the place. Mend fences, corral animals, all that shit. It was a pretty quiet place, all things considered. Ak’ka kept banging her head into doorframes wherever she went and kept getting kicked outta restaurants ‘cus of her big appetite, but the folk were nice. Miserable lot but that was just how things were around here. Most whispered about that god, Vulcadreus, and the destruction they witnessed during the volcano’s eruption. “Much more peaceful here.” Most would say. “People leave us alone. Hopefully we’ve reached the end of our problems.”Wishes that would prove to be famous last words. The day had started out normal. Ak’ka and her serpent companion, Keiga, woke with the sun so Ak’ka could go on her regular jog and finish her regular morning exercises - pull-ups, core workout, the usual. They were makin’ their way out to the dusty planes to hunt for breakfast when she spotted somethin’ weird. Looked like a blot of darkness… wasn’t too uncommon ‘round here. The Cradle was rocked with frequent storms. It was normal to watch the dark clouds roll by, bringing thunder and lightning where they went. Ak’ka could see the dark patch, heard the steady, distant rumble of thunder… But no lightning.Ak’ka stopped, narrowing her eyes. It was probably nothing, but she hadn’t lived as long as she did by dismissing every probably nothing. And the sound; it whispered to her, called an ancient time of the past, a world where she’d been the leader of a tribe. An approaching enemy. Ak’ka stuck two fingers in her mouth and let out a sharp whistle, callin’ Keiga from where he’d wandered after a rat into a cluster of bushes. The tidal serpent poked his head up, on guard at the sudden sound. “A storm?”[1]“Worse. Looks like brigands. Sons of bitches got horses kicking up a damn cloud, I think.” Shit. Hearthside was real little, hardly had any administrative presence, much less guard presence. They’d be screwed six ways to Sunday if these guys ravaged their village. Ak’ka cracked her knuckles, feeling a challenge coming on. She loved a challenge. “Come on, bud. We’ve gotta get word back to the village.”
Fortunately, it didn’t take long for her to sprint back to Hearthside, Keiga secured around her shoulders. [2] Unfortunately, her idea of spreading the word was stomping straight into town square, hoppin’ up on a crate, cupping her hands to her mouth, and shouting at the top of her lungs. “LISTEN UP! Looks like raiders approachin’ from the northwest. Anyone who can fight, pick up yer weapons. Anyone who can’t, well, you might wanna hunker down and hide!”
Her words, as blunt as her fists. Yeah, that definitely wouldn’t cause any panic at all.
1. Necklace of Animal Speech 2. Frozen Feet Bringing petsKeiga, Tidal Serpent - counts against Pet NPC cap Quest Name: Raiders on the Storm Participants: Two or more Location: Dragon's Cradle (Hearthside) Post Requirements: 5 posts per person, 200 words per post Reward: Non-Residents: +1 Renown Residents: +2 Renown, 1 Mystical Archive Ticket (Mystical Archive Tickets are awarded per Player)
Description: Hearthside is under attack by a large group of Storm Raiders, and you are needed to help fend off the attack. A group of 50 raiders, armed to the teeth, have stormed across the open fields and are now descending on the village. Their goal is to completely raze it to the ground. Locals have taken up arms and are doing their best to protect the village, but they need help.
Stand with those who call this place home and help by killing five master level raiders, giving them any skills or abilities you would like. Fighting is just one side of the help needed, however - as those who can't fight need protecting, as well as the newly constructed buildings which are the target of torches and fire pyres.
Dorn, the group's leader, is not with the initial raiding party, but has recently been spotted. The worry is that this may be the first of many groups prepared to attack. We must do everything we can to defend this place and not let it fall to the Storm Raiders.
Special Requirements: You must kill five Storm Raiders in defense of Hearthside. These enemies are considered Master level threats and the skills and abilities you select must be roleplayed accordingly.
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Post by Everett Reykas on Feb 25, 2024 22:03:22 GMT -5
After spending a few weeks doing random jobs in the nearby mountains, Everett has decided that he very much does not like the craggy landscape that dominates Dragon’s Cradle. It’s not the constant storms– those he actually enjoys– it’s more that the endless stretches of rock and stone with no warm waters in sight make him feel like he’s stranded or caged. Spending so much time far inland surrounded by towering stone precipices only exacerbates how isolated and alone he feels.
Gods, what he would give for the salty sea air right about now. The howling wind whistling through the mountaintops isn’t nearly as comforting to him as the roar of the ocean waves crashing against the shore or the hull of a ship.
As he walks down the dirt street, a booming voice echoes through the little village like a rumble of thunder rolling across the rooftops. His first instinct is to assume that the call is coming from one of the local blowhards known for making loud declarations and call to action fairly regularly. Just something about the folks of Dragon’s Cradle who love to be heard. But as he notices locals rushing towards the call, he decides it would be best not to ignore whatever is going on.
Investigating what the reason for the ruckus is, it doesn’t take him long to find the source of the shouting, nor to notice that the growing dust cloud approaching from the valley basin beyond the town's precarious mountainside perch.
Raiders approachin’ from the northwest.
Great. Just what this little ramshackle town needed. He starts to wonder if the house he tried to help build will hold up to any amount of property damage. Probably not given the shoddy job he and Nieven did. Carpentry was neither sailor’s strong suit.
Glancing about, the crowd gathering to the call to arms looks more than just a bit alarmed at the news. Panic is quick to spread and some civilians flee back to their homes in hopes of either packing what they can run away with or waiting out the conflict.
It’s clear to him that many of the folks here are not fighters. They’re refugees having fled the Ash Lands. The few that probably could hold their own in a fight were likely criminals trying to lay low and would be more likely to flee than stand their ground against the infamous raiding parties of Dragon’s Cradle. Some brave souls rush to arm themselves, but given the cloud of debris the raiding party is kicking up, there has to be a good number of them, all likely well-trained and armed to the teeth.
This would not end well without some quick thinking and strong leadership.
His attention goes back to the woman who raised the alarm in the first place. She appears to be eager to fight, and judging by her build and boldness, she isn’t just full of bluster. There's an air of competence about her, only helped by how she towers over most of the locals. She's an imposing figure, with muscles that look as chiseled as the mountains themselves. The scars that mar her skin are clear evidence of the battles she's partaken in and survived.
Weaving between some of the townsfolk, he approaches her. Despite his own height, he's easily dwarfed by her and has to crane his neck up to make eye contact.
“Do you have an idea of their numbers?" He guesses that she's not one for idle chit-chat or pleasantries, so he cuts to the chase while their time to prepare is ticking. If they survive the raid, introductions could wait. "We have the high ground, if we could use that to our advantage, it might keep damage and casualties to a minimum.”
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Post by Ak'ka the Bonegrinder on Mar 3, 2024 12:06:04 GMT -5
Ak’ka’s warning did the trick. The last thing Ak’ka wanted was to spread panic; panic made folks sloppy and created obstacles for the people who were calm. Made it harder to give them direction. In the old days, a past where the Bonegrinder was the Mountain of Mortak, she only had her own clan to command with an iron fist; a fist strong enough to bend the iron will of her people. She didn’t know how to lead folks like this.
Ak’ka crossed her arms while folks fled back to their homes, others whispering amongst themselves. Some started makin’ their way to the village’s borders, ready to flee home once more; others battened down what hatches their houses had in preparation to ride out another storm. A few ran to get pitchforks and swords and hammers, but their numbers were a pitiable few against what was likely a deadly coalition.
Ak’ka knew what kind of raiders and brigands haunted these parts. And if this was what they had to work with then there was a snowball’s chance in hell they’d come out of this unscathed.
She liked combatting those odds.
Ak’ka wasn’t much for thought but she was familiar with raiding strategies and how to combat them. Her old man taught her everything he knew… before he fell in battle a few years later and Ak’ka earned hands-on experience in the subject. If she had the bones to make a controlled fire…
She was pulled from her thoughts by the approaching stranger.
He was tall by human standards, she was pretty sure, but he still had to crane his neck to look her in the eyes. She respected that. There was no hesitation in his voice as he spoke. Short and to the point. She respected that. Ak’ka sized him up, taking in the garb, the sword, the missing arm. There was no denying he’d seen his fair share of battles - and the way he immediately jumped in with tactics and suggestions. Ak’ka knew a warrior when she saw one, and this man was of her ilk.
Well. It looked like one versus an army had just become two against many.
Ak’ka grinned, holding out her hand for him to shake. Calloused and scarred, but still ready to pack a punch. “Ak’ka. Folks call me the Bonegrinder. Not sure what their numbers are yet, but they’re comin’ in on horseback. I was thinking I might have time to carve out a ditch along the hill…” She didn’t have time to make a wall so this would be the next best thing. “I ain’t got much in the way of ranged attacks but if we can guide ‘em to any kinda bottleneck in the city’s infrastructure I could probably hold ‘em off.”
She started walking, trying to get a sense for the village’s layout. The homes were… not that strong. Not that Ak’ka thought she could do any better buildin’ em, but she was familiar with how to break ‘em down.
“You good with that sword? I’m guessin’ you’re some kinda military official.” She’d worked with enough of them during her time as a merc to recognize them in the air of calm authority they carried themselves with during any crisis. Like this was where they were born to be. “Folks’ll probably respond better to yer command than mine if we’re being honest. But we can work with that.”
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Post by Everett Reykas on Mar 3, 2024 12:48:17 GMT -5
"Everett," he responds with a nod as he shakes Ak'ka's hand. "I won't be much help in creating a ditch, but I can make things more dangerous for their horses."
Wasting no time, he steps past Ak'ka until he's at the edge of the last building. He focuses on the sky, squinting for a moment before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. As if responding to his breathing, the wind starts to pick up and cause the ends of his coat to flap in the breeze.
Clouds begin to gather in the sky and swirl above the town and the slope leading up to it. The smell of rain is carried on the wind and the distant rumble of the approaching raiders is drowned out momentarily by growl of thunder in the sky. After a few more moments, droplets of rain start to fall from the darkened sky. The bare stone of the mountainside quickly becomes slick and slippery, making any attempts to ride up the slope much more treacherous than before.[1]
Everett opens his eyes to see that the rain and winds also clear the dust cloud shrouding the raiders. From their vantage point, they can better make out the size of the raiding party which is much larger than expected. The half-elf frowns before turning back to regroup with Ak'ka.
"That should slow them down and buy us a bit more time. There has to be around fifty or so headed this way. Taking on the whole group at once is ill-advised, we could become overwhelmed quickly."
While Ak'ka might not have much in the way of range, Everett has that in spades now that he has a better handle on his magic.
"If a funnel is what you need, I can manage that. Though scattering the group isn't a bad idea either so long as we can keep them from flanking the town."
He follows Ak'ka as they take inventory of what is at their disposal. There isn't much to build substantial barricades from as all supplies were used to establish the town in the first place. What scraps there are are few and far between and too small to be much of a hazard for seasoned raiders. Keeping the buildings from receiving any damage would be tricky, but at least if a fire broke out they could handle it easily enough since most of the surroundings are stone.
"Not as skilled as others admittedly, and no, but I worked on some of the houses here so I'm at least familiar with a few of the locals."
Glancing at Ak'ka out of the corner of his eye, he raises an eyebrow at her comment about commanding the locals.
"I think they'll respect you well enough, you've already taken charge where others haven't."
The sound of a rallying horn echoes through the valley. "We don't have much time. We need archers on the roofs! Anyone with spears or pitchforks, follow us!"
As they gather anyone willing to fight, Everett gives some instructions on using the corners of buildings for cover and how to make defensive lines with whatever weaponry they have at their disposal. If any of the raiders got past himself or Ak'ka, the goal of the locals was to ambush, blind, and buy themselves time to escape.
[1] Inclement Weather
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Post by Ak'ka the Bonegrinder on Mar 9, 2024 17:25:24 GMT -5
If Ak’ka had more time she’d really take the opportunity to lament not gettin’ to meet this guy in a more relaxed setting, because she really liked the way he operated so far. Straight to the point. Ready to move and act. Didn’t waste no time with niceties the way other folk did. She had a feeling they were gonna get along just fine.
She was gonna ask what Everett meant by making things harder for the horses when she smelled lightning in the air and caught wind of the approachin’ storm. The wind whipped around her face, rain comin’ down with the full force of old ‘Vasha’s fury. If it were any colder she’d be reminded of home.
“... Useful.”
The wind also had the added bonus of pushing away the smoke, allowin’ Ak’ka to see with her own eyes the full force of the raiding party they were dealing with. There were… more than she’d anticipated. She remembered old warsongs sung between kin to the beat of the approaching army’s drum. She remembered her old man laying dead at her feet at the hands of enemy raiders.
She remembered being buried alive.
“Fifty…” She repeated the number, crossing her arms.
She looked at Everett and pushed away thoughts of the mage who brought down an avalanche to fell the Bonegrinder, all those years ago. “Yeah. I ain’t too worried. If you’ve got the lightning, I’ll bring the thunder.” She pounded her fists together and blew out a puff of cold air from her nose, diggin’ into that chill. Along with Everett’s rain came the snow and hail, providin’ what little weather support Ak’ka had in her arsenal.[1]
“I doubt I’ll ever get their respect, but so long as they listen to one of us, that’s fine.” While Everett rallied the few combatants this village had into fighting form, Ak’ka slipped away to etch out a small trench. They didn’t have much time before the raiders would be upon them, so Ak’ka worked quick. She dove her fists into the arid earth with a CRACK, and the split widened from the force of her strength in ten feet either direction.[2,3] Wouldn’t hold them for long but it would have to do.
She sprinted back to Everett as the villagers took their positions. There were only two or three game hunters, and maybe five farmers who’d grabbed pitchforks. Maybe ten who’d just grabbed items from their household - heavy books, clay pots and vases, pots and pans and torches. Their own personal army against the might of many. None of them trained.
That didn’t matter, so long as they all had the hunger to defend their home.
“Alright, listen up!” Ak’ka raised her voice. “The enemy ain’t gonna play fair. They got numbers. But if they can play dirty, so can we. We gotta scatter them. Can’t let them concentrate their offense. Any of them slip past us and get to you lot, you fight for your lives and run. It’s the best chance you got.”
A grim motivational speech, but a realistic one. There was nothing else Ak’ka could say.
Especially not when the first volley of arrows soared through the air, crackling with electric enchantments. Ak’ka stamped her foot on the ground and summoned a wall of pure ice to protect the village folk from harm, but she wasn’t so lucky.[4] She raised one of her extra arms to block the arrow from nailin’ her in the face as she turned around. Their own archers had open fired back, ranged against ranged, but they weren’t exactly the most skilled marksmen. Wouldn’t be long before the raiders got closer in range. 1. Crystallization 2. Bull’s Strength 3. Extra Arms 4. Glacial Wall
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Post by Everett Reykas on Mar 12, 2024 13:43:13 GMT -5
The already slick slope is made all the more treacherous by Ak'ka chilling presence. As the mud and running water freeze into ice, the horse's hooves can't find any grip and interrupt their reckless charge. One horse staggers, throwing its rider's balance forward from the sudden change in momentum. Their rider's weight drags the beast down to its knees which scuff against the skree slope.
"THEY GOT MAGES!" Shouts one of the raiders in the middle of the group.
A particularly large orc with battle scars marring their face and one lower tusk broken off at its tip scowls at the unexpected shift in the weather. Even with the hail pelting against his exposed arms, he rides undeterred by the poor footing as his hefty mount trudges forward boldly.
"FAN OUT!" The orc shouts, his voice booming through the storm.
Without hesitation, the force starts to scatter to either side of the glacier wall. They press forward through the sleet to try and flank the town in a pincer attack.
"We can't let them get the high ground!" Everett turns to speak to Ak'ka and that's when he notices she's got an arrow sticking out of her arm.
It's not a good sign so early in the fight, but he gets the feeling she's not out of the count just yet. He doesn't have anything to offer her as a means of healing. Hopefully, that wouldn't be the proverbial nail in the coffin for this whole defense effort. Glancing back at the icy wall, he considers Ak'ka's idea from earlier. The fighter was likely better in close combat, but they would have to trickle in foes to limit any damage or chance of someone getting by her. They needed to herd this force one way or another.
"Give them a weak point to charge towards then pin them down as they come through," he says to Ak'ka as a ripple of electrical energy envelopes his body.[1] "I will do what I can to control their movements on the slope. With any luck, we can pick a few off one by one and force them to reconsider if this is worth the trouble."
Even within warbands, a leader who does not know when to retreat will be viewed as foolish and undeserving of the force's lives they frivolously cast aside. If any of these raiders have even an inkling of sense, they'll know the spoils from this freshly built town filled with fleeing refugees are not worth risking one's life over. Counting on them to value their lives over gold is a gamble, especially with what he's heard of the warrior cultures of Dragon's Cradle, but if they play their cards right they might just swing these odds in their favor.
"Be ready to hit them hard and fast." Air gathers under his feet and he springs up into the air, not really flying but rather running on the air as if climbing a set of stairs to clear the wall of ice.[2] "Archers! Keep behind cover and aim at their horses!"
An arrow from the invaders flies right for his chest but is deflected from its mark by the shroud of static around him. He'd rather not become a flying pincushion if he can help it, so he needs to act quickly before another volley of arrows can be loosed on the town. While deterring the raiders might be tricky, the horses are not motivated by the prospect of blood and valuables. Compressing air between this fingertips, he snaps and unleashes an ear splitting thunder clap.[3]
The horses react as animals do and scramble to race away from the sound of Avasha's fury despite the efforts of their riders to keep them focused on riding uphill. Some do manage to get control of their animals, but others find themselves with a panicked mount on unstable footing. A precarious position which results in at least a few toppling off their mounts which freely run off down the valley.
Pointing a gnarled great club made out of the jaw of some large beast he likely felled with his own two hands forward, the hefty orc shouts over the panic.
"A FEW MERE MAGES WILL NOT STOP US! WE EMBRACE THE STORM! GO! SHOW THEM JUST WHO THEY'RE MESSING WITH!"
His rallying call is enough to pull the force back into focusing on the task at hand. If this group was composed of a more ramshackle group of thieves and bandits that might have been enough to drive them off, but unfortunately for the town this group lived for conflict and the thrill of battle.
[1] Static Field [2] Step of the Wind [3] Thundering Boom
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Post by Ak'ka the Bonegrinder on Mar 17, 2024 10:37:15 GMT -5
War cries mingled with yelps of pain, the first notes of the battlesong. They’d met the roadblocks. Hadn’t held ‘em for long, but it did its job taking down a couple’a horses. And the wall of thick Frostgale ice was divertin’ them. Splitting their attention. For the first time, Ak’ka entertained the thought they might hold this town.
Then an arrow hit her in the shoulder.
Ak’ka grunted, blood splattering the ground behind her. The force was hardly enough to make her so much as stagger - lips curled in a grimace, tusks bared as her old pal adrenaline kicked in. She reached up to her shoulder with one of her other hands, snappin’ the wood like a twig at the slightest bit of pressure. Leavin’ the arrowhead in to deal with later; givin’ her enough freedom of movement.
She curled her hand into a fist, smashin’ the arrow to powder with a grunt.
Old ‘Vasha’s anger enveloped Everett then, and Ak’ka knew - it was game time. She cracked her knuckles and her neck, pullin’ upon that primal, ancient rage. The roar of the winter’s wind in the mountain rang in her ears, pulse quickening with rage.[1]
“They won’t fuckin’ know what hit ‘em.” She vowed, a promise of blood.
The tactic Everett was describin’ was one Ak’ka was passingly familiar with. You give a little bit so your enemy chases that vulnerability - without even knowin’ they’re the ones being directed by you. In her day she never made much use of it… but in her day she had an army of orckin brothers and sisters at her back. Today, needs must. And right now, the approaching army forming a pincer attack saw an injured orc on her own. Easy pickings.
As Everett made his way to the slopes to hold off those who’d yet to breach the town, Ak’ka stared down the approachin’ line, murder in her eyes.
And then she turned and ran.
Further into the streets she ran, until she reached a point in the street, barely big enough for a wagon to squeeze through. It would be a challenge for their horses; but they weren’t thinkin’ about that right now. Not when there was easy pickings to be had. Ak’ka knew the mind of a raider. She’d lived this life.
And yet, hurtin’ a village of innocents was the lowest thing you could do. Anger gave way to hate and simmered as she stopped, held the position, and did exactly what Everett said - hit hard and fast.
A flurry of blows along the first horse’s flank with the power of ten hammers behind each fist crumpled the animal at its most vulnerable part - the legs.[2] The horse crumpled and the rider pitched forward with a yelp; he woulda hit the ground and fractured his skull if Ak’ka hadn’t caught his face in the palm of her hand.
A little armored fellow. Cobbled together from the pieces of victims he’d slain. Ak’ka didn’t have time to identify the crests sticking from different pieces, but she did see the big fuckoff spike attached to the top of his helmet. Probably meant to make him look intimidating but it really just made him look like a tool.
One Ak’ka could use.
She gripped his skull in her hand and flipped him so his body was parallel to the ground in her hands, the spike of his helmet pointin’ straight towards the advancing line. With a burst of wind, she propelled forward like an arrow - the man in her hands, a battering ram.[3,4] The sheer force of the blow knocked a good portion of the advancing line off their horses, one falling rider even getting impaled on the spike of the helmet, which she sloughed off. Her attack took out a good few of the advancing line - but more were still making their way up the hill, and there was still the other side of the blank to worry about.
Strong as she was, she was still only one woman.
Not for the first time Ak’ka wondered how Everett was doing. It was then that she heard the shout, even from this distance; the yell which rallied the hesitating men and seemed to make the world tremble. Ak’ka didn’t recognize the voice but she sure as hell knew the authority behind it - that must’ve been their siege leader. The sheer power behind it seemed to cut through their very ranks. This was bad. Ak’ka raised her voice to a bellow, an echo to the call -
“NO STORM CAN FELL A MOUNTAIN, VADO’KAN MAUSH.”
Dead meat. Exactly what this bastard would be when she got her hands on him.
She had no ken what the front line was looking like, but she had a feeling that this tactic wasn’t doing them no good. She was needed upfront.
“Keiga!” Ak’ka snapped, and the serpent knew what she meant without needin’ to be told. Keiga coiled himself in a circle around her, a rolling wave that smashed into the remaining advancers and pushed them back to the wall.[5] More importantly, gave Ak’ka an opportunity to make it back to the holding line. No ground lost or gained; but a good chunk of their man bleeding, drowned, dead.
Still, they advanced. They weren’t doin’ this for the money or the fame, but the battle itself. That was the most dangerous kinda fanatic. A warrior.
The archers were still strugglin’ to hold the line, but Everett was cleanin’ house. But war was a game of adrenaline; only so much you could use before your energy ran out. A blessing the enemy had in droves. A handful of their archers launched a volley of static arrows into the air - Ak’ka’s first instinct was to lunch for their own vulnerable marksmen, but that wasn’t their target.
It was one of the houses beyond the glacial wall, one with a straw roof that easily caught the spark from the lightning. The first fire of the battle roared to life, and Ak’ka knew then - these tough sons of bitches weren’t gonna go down without a fight.
She vaulted herself to stand at the top of the wall and find Everett amongst the chaos. They were doin’ the best they could, but they needed something to pack a punch. Something to put fear into the fearless. 1. Juggernaut’s Fury 2. Bull’s Strength Tattoo, Heavy + Double Strike Enchantment, Extra Arms 3. Improvised Weapon (Brawler I) 4. Tail Winds 5. Smashing Wave - Tidal Serpent
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Post by Everett Reykas on Mar 21, 2024 17:55:31 GMT -5
Another arrow is stopped in mid-air a mere fraction of an inch from Everett's chest.[1] The magic around him gives a final crackle as the arrow falls to the ground far below. The spell fades having run its course. At the very least, the incantation saved him from becoming a pincushion, but all that's really done is buy some time.
More arrows from the enemy make the rooftops more treacherous, and many of the archers on their side take cover in a desperate attempt to survive the deathly rain.
"Watch their volleys!" Everett shouts down to their archers. "Time your attacks between their own!"
Such tactics and skills are probably beyond the locals turned improvised militia, but anything they could do to improve their chances of taking out a few more riders and horses was worth a shot. Especially with the full force of the storm closing in on the town.
The lead orc raider advances towards the wall. The sturdy mount beneath him doesn't seem to struggle as much across the slick ground, proceeding with confidence as its hooves cut into the ice and stone.
His eyes lock onto the airborne mage who has been causing his forces all sorts of trouble as he reaches over his shoulder and pulls a javelin from his back. Taking aim, he hefts up the weapon before launching it through the air at an inhuman speed.
From below, Ak'ka arrives at the wall just in time to see the javelin strike Everett, the weapon ricocheting off his chest plate as the forces of the impact knocks him off the platform of magically condensed air he was standing on.
As the ground rapidly approaches, Everett sweeps his arm under him, creating a cushion of air that halts his descent a few feet above the barren stone long enough for him to right himself and land safely.[2] He glances down at the significant dent in his armor from the javelin and grimaces at the thought of how he would have been skewered without it.[3]
His attention snaps back to in front of him as the thundering sound of heavy hooves grows closer, like a thunderstorm rolling up the valley's slopes. The lead orc, now flanked by two other intimidating warriors, charges through the rain right toward him bearing his great club.
A few arrows from the archers on the roofs bounce across the stone as they miss hitting the raiders closing in on the glacier wall. With the wall of ice at his back and the angry raiders in front of him, Everett makes a split-second decision and throws his hand up, calling forth a thick cloud of fog to obscure the area beyond the wall.[4]
Shouts of frustration rise from the cloud along with the sound of shifting stone and stomping hooves until Ak'ka hears the sound of a heavy impact shortly followed by the sight of Everett flying back out of cloud towards the wall in a less than controlled manner.[5]
The booming voice shouts out from the fog. "ENOUGH OF YOUR COWARDLY TRICKS! BRING OUT YOUR STRONGEST WARRIOR!"
[1] Static Field (2/2 ranged attacks blocked) [2] Levitate [3] Cuirass - 1 hit prevention used [4] Fog Cloud [5] Padding - 1 hit prevention used
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Post by Ak'ka the Bonegrinder on Mar 25, 2024 14:46:06 GMT -5
Several things happened at once.
Ak’ka vaulted herself up to the top of the wall just as a projectile struck Everett’s chest. Ak’ka shouted in alarm - the projectile bounced off of him, but the momentum of the blow drove him off the wall. She reached out her hand-
Grasped air-
And Everett plummeted.
A gust of wind caught him before he hit the ground, lowering him harmlessly to the ground. She breathed out a sigh of relief, a moment of gratitude before she remembered where she was. And where Everett had just landed.
She glanced behind her at the village. And down below at the approaching raiders.
In the end, it wasn’t even a choice.
The strong protected the weak. And the Mountain of Mortak made a vow.
She leapt from the wall to the hell that waited below.
Boots hit the ground with a THUD that trembled the earth around her. Everett threw up a wall of mist, obscuring himself on the intruders. Smart. Ak’ka’s respect for him grew. But it was a temporary stopgap, and their numbers were still greater than Everett alone. There was another THUD, and Everett came flyin’ back towards the glacial wall. Back towards her.
This time, she was there to catch him.
She raised her arms to snatch him from the air, the impact sending the both of them backwards; but Ak’ka had braced herself, and she would not fall to something as simple as a person’s weight. Boots braced in the dirt, she skidded to a halt a couple of feet back, Everett in her arms.
She flipped him upright and set him on the ground as the leader’s voice boomed. A challenge. A fight, warrior to warrior. Ak’ka’s grip tightened on Everett’s shoulders for a brief second.
“IF YA WANTED A WARRIOR’S HONOR YOU SHOULD’A STUCK TO WARRIOR’S FIGHTS.” Ak’ka responded, disdain dripping from her voice, as hard as frostbitten icicles. She knew the deal. There would be no talking. Back in her day, this kind of callout meant that the leader would want to fight with the other clan’s leader - a battle by proxy, the might of two warrior clans clashing with one another, no holds barred. Nothing but the glory of battle and one’s own passion and strength.
Folks who did that weren’t so cowardly as to terrorize a village of refugees.
Anger coursed through her veins, as ancient as stone, as her lips curled into a snarl. Before that moment, she’d been, for lack of a better term - calm, in control. Yet, now, the Beast’s fury gripped her; lost in the throes of battle, and enraged to see the depths of cowardice her brethren had fallen to.
She leaned closer to Everett and whispered, “Oi, if you’ve got any more lightning spells, get ready to use one. I’ll go right behind you. You zap ‘em, I’ll clap ‘em.”
It was the only warning Everett would get before Ak’ka reared back and threw him with all the might and fury of the Bonegrinder’s rage, right back into the fog cloud, right in the direction she heard the voice.[1,2]
Like a friendly game of catch. 1. Bull’s Strength Tattoo 2. Improvised Weapon (Brawler I)
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Post by Everett Reykas on Mar 25, 2024 20:33:45 GMT -5
"Oof!" Everett grunts after having the wind knocked out of him and slamming back into Ak'ka. He's probably feeling more of the impact than the muscular half-orc woman.
If his armor wasn't busted before, it sure is now after taking a nasty hit from the raid leader's great club. The cuirass has a large tear across the chest deep enough to compromise the padded layer beneath it. Any protection it gave him was now spent which is not good considering the three heavy-hitting foes are still standing.
Regardless, he's grateful for Ak'ka's adept catch. Had she not been there, he probably wouldn't be back on his feet so quickly. Though he is surprised to see her back on this side of the wall.
Has the town been overrun from the other sides? Is she here to accept the other orc's challenge?
He doesn't know much about orc culture, but he seriously doubts that these raiders would honor a duel in the middle of an already launched onslaught. The challenge was likely just to lure anyone who is a legitimate threat out into the open to be picked off more easily...which makes them the fools for falling for it.
Everett glances at Ak'ka's fingers digging into his pauldrons as she nearly deafens him from her shouting match with the raid leader.
Her breath next to his ear sends a shiver down his spine. Where one would expect warmth, there is nothing but frigid air.
"Wait a minute, we should regrou-" He's cut off by the sensation of sudden movement and air rushing by his face as he's flung back into the fray.
Ah.
Fuck.
He snaps out of the shock of being thrown just in time to slap his chest and cast a spell on himself. His hair raises on end, charged with static electricity, but instead of an aura, this current ripples through his clothes and across his skin.[1] He does what he can to right himself in the air, though the fog makes it impossible to tell which way is up.
Suddenly, he collides with the lead raider and the side of his heavy mount. The horse lets out a surprised shriek as it receives an electrical shock. It rears and bucks while the raid leader tries to calm it. He swings his great club down on Everett, knocking him away and to the ground.
"Gah!"
Everett hits the wet rock slope before he rolls away from the heavy hooves of the distressed mount. He holds his shoulder which took the brunt of the hit, but the leader didn't get away with it unharmed either.
The leader grimaces as his arm goes numb. Out of frustration and sheer stubbornness, he takes his great club up in his off-hand as he gets his horse back under control. The more time passes, the more the rain starts to thin the fog cloud. The war-scarred raid leader glowers down through the remaining wisps of fog at the one-armed mage on the ground before him.
"You'll regret standing against us." As he speaks, the other two start to close in with their weapons brandished.
Everett moves his feet back under him to get back up to stand.
"Sorry, no time for clever comebacks. She's not in a chatty mood."
The leader furrows his brow before he realizes that Everett isn't the only one retaliating.
[1] Lightning Armor (1/3 posts)
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Post by Ak'ka the Bonegrinder on Mar 26, 2024 19:03:06 GMT -5
Here was where Ak’ka had reached the crossroads between valid strategy and her own pride.
The smart thing would probably be to regroup. Keep the city safe, draw back instead of overextending. Yet she was familiar with the sort of war strategy one might associate with chess - topple the king, and the rest of the army would fall. Which was why she was already deaf to Everett’s protests as she threw the Everett-bomb.
… Throwing him probably wasn’t the smartest move.
But he wasn’t alone for long. Ak’ka sprinted right behind him, ready to follow-up on his impromptu attack, into the dense fog.
The lightning must’a struck the horse, cus Ak’ka saw a clap of bright light and heard the pained whinny and Everett’s pained yelp. Whoops. She hadn’t meant to hurt the guy. Wasn’t her fault most people had glass bones and paper skin and weren’t ready to be thrown at a moment’s notice. But Everett hadn’t frozen up - midair he’d managed what Ak’ka had indicated, which was pretty damn impressive.
And - even more important - he’d lit the path for her even in the field of obscured vision.
Ak’ka didn’t waste no time leaping into the fray.
The orc leader took a powerful punch to the face, knocking him off of his horse - wasn’t strong enough to kill him, sadly. He crumpled to the ground and leapt back up, not deterred by her blow. He was made of sterner stock than the raiders he commanded; thankfully, so was Ak’ka.
The orc looked her up and down, snarling visage, ten foot frame, and all. And he laughed. On either side of him, the two warriors advanced, weapons brandished; one held a meat cleaver, and the other, a heavy hammer crusted in blood. The orc’s strongest warriors looked like they’d stuck to the back of the fray, close to the leader. Made sense. In battle, you didn’t throw your best men in the front to get cut down with the lackeys.
Still. There was an advancing mob, with them the only thing standing between them and the wall were a lone orc and an elf. Shit odds. The kind of odds Ak’ka once thrived in.
She slammed her fists together in warning to the approaching men. Time for one last warning. “This village is under protection of the Bonegrinder. The Mountain of Mortak. And her allies.” She glanced at Everett before focusing her attention on the orc leader, every word carryin’ the promise of pain if he took even one more step. “Ya got one last chance to leave before we make a feast of yer entrails.”
There’s always a moment, in war, in which the battlefield takes a breath; it feels alive. Behind them, Ak’ka could hear the sounds of their pitiful coalition of archers picking off people who had snuck past the main pack and gotten close to the wall. She could hear the distant shouts of village folk puttin’ out fires that had been struck by the enemy’s archers to flush out their would-be victims. All of it, she could almost hear in perfect clarity, to the beat of her own heart…
And the world slowed around them…
And the orc leader belted out an incredulous laugh.
“Dead meat from a dead tribe. Just like this settlement’ll be when the storm’s run its course. Just like you two will be.”
She did not recoil at the mention of her family. Her face was as hard as ice. The time for talking was over. The next second, as the two men and their leader charged, Ak’ka let out a ferocious roar, one which rippled the very air around her, and knocked the men to their feet.[1]
That was the single warning cry before all hell broke loose; and those who weren’t charging the wall charged Everett and Ak’ka. 1. Undying Fervor
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Post by Everett Reykas on Apr 1, 2024 22:03:40 GMT -5
Ak'ka's assault gives Everett the chance to regain his footing. His shoulder aches, but at least it was the shoulder with no arm attached to it anyway so it doesn't hamper him any more than he always is.
The leader's horse runs off as the flanking raiders also dismount. Given the slippery footing and the confirmation that there's a spellcaster with lightning magic amongst them, better to be on foot.
Ak'ka's declaration doesn't seem to deter the raiders much, but there's power in her words. Her words bolster their own resolve, the resolve of those beyond the wall and on the roofs overlooking the chaotic scene. This is not a town established by a tribe, nor is it home to any tribe. But Ak'ka stands there on the front line for complete strangers, placing not only her honor or name before the raging threat but also her own life.
The archers on the roof come out from cowering, inspired by Ak'ka's actions and words. They provide what support they can while remaining out of the way. While they aren't very effective and hardly take any of the raiders out, they do work well as an annoying distraction.
Everett still isn't willing to let the raiders direct their ire towards the civilians for too long though and as he stands with Ak'ka to face down the leader and his flanking cronies, something stirs in him. The sounds of battle, the smell of rain, and the wind causing his coat to flap at the back of his legs... it all feels so...familiar. A prickling sensation runs across his skin, and it's different than the veil of electricity currently cloaked around him. It's far, far stronger.
As the leader says his piece and Ak'ka's roar cascades down the slope like an avalanche, Everett focuses on the storm clouds above them.
"You should know, a storm has no favorites."
He raises his hand and lightning crackles along his forearm. The sky above darkens further before suddenly illuminating as several lightning bolts rain down, striking the ground and sending fragments of rock scattering down the slope.[2] The rain of lightning is random, and the battlefield quickly becomes a minefield for all those without cover.
One of the raiders gets absolutely fried by one of the bolts striking the top of their head and coursing through them to the wet ground. The smell of burning flesh and hair is pungent for a quick moment before the wind and the rain carries it back down the slope.
Seeing the erratic strikes of the untamed storm, Everett gathers wind around his arm and then sends the gust toward Ak'ka.[3] The wind attempts to push her out of the line of fire as another strike comes crashing down. If only a little, he can help her dodge around the bolts and close in on the raiders.
[1] Lightning Armor (2/3 posts) [2] Lightning Field (1/2 posts) [3] Push/Pull
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Post by Ak'ka the Bonegrinder on Apr 8, 2024 7:04:34 GMT -5
The half-Orc was used to her words sparkin’ fear in the hearts of her enemies – not inspiring courage in her allies. But that was exactly what happened. Even as the enemy’s leader continued his advance, a second wind gripped the villagers of Hearthside in a chokehold. In the distance Ak’ka could hear their cries as they launched arrow after arrow into the fray. They weren’t especially good at what they did but damn if she didn’t admire their tenacity.
It was easy to be brave when you knew you could win.
Standing tall when all odds were against you - when death could grip you any second - and choosing freedom over surrender… that was true courage.
Their attempts to pick off stragglers in the pack only drew more attention their way; dangerous attention. Ak’ka grunted, torn for a single second between turning around and chasing after those who got too close to the barrier, and takin’ care of the bigger threat in front of her. In that second the air crackled with ozone, static with energy about to pour from the heavens. Ak’ka felt it dance along her arms, dredging up old memories of mountain storms and coming of age trials.
Everett was right. The storm didn’t play favorites. Not even to its own children. It was up to them to weather it and come out the other side on top.
At his call, lightning rained down upon the battlefield. The earth cracked where electricity split the dark sky - striking friend and foe alike. Wind whipped the earth around, threatening to knock her off her feet. Ak’ka held her ground ‘til she felt the turbulent sky shift above her, a faint murmuring in the air that made her skin tingle and the fur of her owlbear pelt cloak stand on end. She relinquished control –
And a bolt of lightning struck right where she’d been seconds ago.
Ak’ka turned around, facing Everett in the battlefield. She wasn’t sure why, but she was struck with a surety that he’d been the one to save her from the storm’s wrath. She didn’t know he had that kind of power in him. Wasn’t like they’d even known each other for long, but…
The merc was glad he wasn’t her enemy.
Amidst the chaos she spotted him - they weren’t far away from one another - and nodded at him once. It was the only gratitude she could offer before one of the bastards flanking the leader lunged at her. But her rage from earlier hadn’t left her system; it had only gotten stronger. The raider threw his entire body weight at the Orc, but she braced herself just in time, heels of her boot digging into the arid dirt, only budging about half an inch before coming to a stop.[1] The raider looked up at her and swore in an unfamiliar language.
“My turn.”
With one arm she grabbed him by the skull, hoisting him up into the air and spinning him around before bringing the man down on her knee with a crunch that resonated up his entire body. If he wasn’t dead by that point, then he definitely was as Ak’ka grabbed him by the ankles and spun him around like a club, smashing him into anyone who dared approach her.
Once, twice, three times Ak’ka spun around, knocking down any raider who dared get close to the spinning maelstrom of death.[2] And with Everett pushin’ her across the field out of the way of the storm, she carved a scar through their numbers ‘til she was dizzy.
She came to a stop, the world spinnin’ around her; didn’t get the chance to catch her breath, though, as the orc leader was on her in an instant. Ak’ka grunted as an axe embedded itself in her shoulder, tearing out a chunk of flesh. Pain blossomed in the muscle where the other orc had injured her. Distantly, she realized that the mark would leave a wicked scar. Didn’t matter now - not if she didn’t survive this encounter for it to heal. Ak’ka lashed out, elbowing the orc in the gut and sendin’ him sprawling in an attempt to put some distance between them. Her elbow only met metal with a hollow clang, sendin’ a jolt up the nerves of her arm. But the force of her blow was enough to put some distance between them, allowin’ Ak’ka to whirl around and reach two arms into the straps of his breastplate, ripping it off entirely and tossing it to the ground behind her.[3]
The orc raider spat in her face and raised his axe.
Ak’ka snorted another puff of air, and the frost seemed to gather around her. She raised her calloused palms and curled her hand into a fist, commandin’ the ice that chilled her to the very bone – bringin’ it from the inside, out.[4] Two handaxes made of pure crystalline ice formed in her grip – one she used to counter the orc leader’s axe. Metal broke ice apart and the handaxe shattered like glass. Ak’ka closed her eyes in time. The orc leader did not. Ice got in his face and eyes and he staggered, but before Ak’ka could press the advantage, someone from behind got her in the back with a hammer.
That was the bitch about fightin’ many in the fray when you were only one. Ak’ka whirled around and cold clocked the asshole into oblivion, but he wasn’t the only one. Everett’d proven himself a threat when it came to magic, and Ak’ka was holding her own as a brawler, leavin’ them at a loss for who to take down first.
But some of them were getting smart - more were beginning to swarm Everett, realizing that if they took out the one-armed mage, they’d bring an end to the weather hampering their attempts to mount a proper attack. One lone warrior was nothing. The one with the power to command the sky with the wave of a hand posed more of a threat to this attack.
At the wall, Keiga was slithering around the remaining archers and fighters, the massive serpent as silent as the grave. Where Ak’ka was brash and loud, he was a different kind of predator; the few fighters who managed to break the line and get up or around the wall were met with the serpent’s fangs or his powerful tail. He was doing all he could to help the villagers, but he was only one snake… and he couldn’t keep this up forever.
Keiga dispatched of another grunt raider attempting to scale the wall with a coiled lunge, ripping a chunk out of the man’s neck. Another lunge and he knocked the dying raider off of the wall with his tail to the ground below, dislodging another climbing enemy as he did. But another quickly rose to take this place, and Keiga was losing steam. 1. Juggernaut’s Fury 2. The Wheel 3. Weaken Armor 4. Art of the Avalanche (1/2 axes used), Myriad Barrier
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Post by Everett Reykas on Apr 11, 2024 15:06:13 GMT -5
Ak'ka is like a tornado born from the storm itself. As she whirls around the battlefield she cuts down raider after raider. Her tenacity in battle is remarkable, and a great relief given the sheer number of formidable foes they're facing. If they keep this up, they might just get out of this alive. Her path of destruction also gives Everett an idea for later.
Unfortunately, the raiders were getting smart to the situation. In the blink of an eye, a number of them swarm around Everett with one lunging forward to tackle the annoying mage to the ground. As the muscular raider connects, they are zapped by the last remnants of the electrical current spiking off the mage's skin.[1] Thinking fast, Everett gathers a burst of air and uses it to push himself out of the raider's grip, but that just sends him skidding in the shins of another raider who topples over him.[2]
"Oof!" He grunts as the weight of the orc lands on his legs, and then looks up as another raises their war hammer over his head.
Before they can bring it down on his skull, another flash of lightning strikes the metal hammer and surges through the raider's body, frying them until they fall over smoking.[3]
That was a close call, but in that time the two other raiders had regained their footing and rushed to grab at him again. Everett throws his hand down against the ground and attempts to jettison himself up into the air and out of their reach if only for a moment, but the one closest to him grabs onto his ankle and tightens their iron grip around his boot.[2.4]
A wicked grin spreads across the orc's face as they slam Everett down against the rocky slope. Everett gasps for air, the impact having knocked the wind out of his now very bruised ribs. The orc doesn't stop there though and repeatedly slams him down before finally pausing as their fellow raider closes in.
By the time he has a chance to breathe, Everett's shoulder and back ache and his knee feels like it's one second away from being dislocated. He spits blood onto the ground as the two orcs stand over him all too pleased with themselves as the lightning starts to fizzle out from the sky.
Glancing past their legs, he can make out Ak'ka fending off the leader and a few others coming to their chief's aid. They were outnumbered, and that was starting to pull apart their makeshift defenses. It's only a battle of attrition at this point.
One of the orcs grabs Everett by the top of his head and drags him up from the ground. They turn him to face their ugly mug and sneer in his face. "Pathetic wimp. You ain't nothin' without your magic."
"If magic makes me something, then what does that make you?"
The orc's brow furrows in confusion, the attempt at a jab going right over their battle-scarred head.
"Nevermind," Everett used the few seconds of conversation to fish a candy out of his pocket. He then pops it in his mouth and bites down on the hard shell.[5]
The sky rumbles and the clouds swirl above the three before drawing down into a funnel cloud. The winds pick up suddenly as a tornado touches down and rips across the slope, lifting up any raiders still making their way toward the village. This unfortunately also sends Everett and the two others up into the violent updraft, tumbling amongst the other debris swept up as the tornado swirls around.
[1] Lightning Armor (3/3 posts) [2] Push/Pull [3] Lightning Field (2/2 posts) [4] Iron Grip (raider) [5] Storm Chocolate (casts Call Tornado)
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Post by Ak'ka the Bonegrinder on Apr 17, 2024 10:34:14 GMT -5
There was only so much Ak’ka could do to keep eyes off Everett.
War was about priorities. About identifyin’ the biggest threat and hoping that by killing it, you turned the tides in your direction. Everett was the one who’d disabled their horses, turned the battlefield into a disaster zone. In this moment Ak’ka still wasn’t sure whether Hearthside would survive the onslaught. But in that moment, it didn’t matter. It was all for nothin’ if one of their strongest players was taken off the board. It was his storms that were holdin’ off the advancing army from just running over the village in the first place.
If Everett went down, then they could kiss Hearthside goodbye.
Ak’ka grit her tusks. An orcish sweat slipped outta her mouth, soundin’ more like a rough growl in her rage. She was still engaged with the raider’s captain - and her back still ached from the hammer’s blow. This was familiar territory to her. She’d taken on enemies who thought combining their numbers to gang up on her was the best strategy. The many versus the few. If it were any other time, any other place, then Ak’ka’d be able to shrug them off, no problem. But she’d already spent a lot of her energy cuttin’ down their numbers… and she was still a bit dizzy from that risky move earlier. She could fight and claw and scrape her way outta this, but this had become a deadly dance. One wrong move and she could fall here.
Everett was right. This had become a war of attrition.
With a roar she wildly threw back an elbow - felt the crunch of bone and heard a grunt of pain behind her as whoever tried to catch her off guard crumpled to the ground, clutching at his ribs. Wasn’t dead, but that was a problem for later. In the distance, she could see Everett thrown around by a few enemies. Hell. That wasn’t good. He’d proven himself pretty damn sturdy - which she probably should’a checked before throwing him into the fray - but her experience with mages taught her even if they could take hits, it wouldn’t last long in such close quarters. He needed help. Ak’ka whirled around, as if to abandon her fight and jump to his defense. Her creed to defend those in need, for a single moment, overriding her desire for blood.
A split second of indecision that cost her.
”WHERE DO YOU THINK YOURE GOING?”
Something sharp sliced across the side of her torso, ripping a chunk of her side with it. Blood spattered across the dirt where the axe the barbarian had thrown through the air to stop her.[1] The behemoth of a weapon soared through the air, spinning at a curve before momentum carried it straight back at her. Pain escaped her in the form of a soft hiss - no time to give it attention. Ak’ka only had a second to react before the axe flew at her again.
At the same time, the sky rumbled.
Ak’ka turned her head to see the wind whipping around in the dark sky, formin’ a funnel that touched down on the ground with a roar that sounded like the distant rumble of a dragon.
Ak’ka had heard of tornadoes… she’d never seen one for herself.
Another raider charged at Everett from the distance. Ak’ka didn’t think before pitching her second axe in his direction. It hit the ground in front of the raider, ice explodin’ along the ground - the brigand slipped - and without his footing, he was unable to stop himself from getting sucked into the tornado.[2] Hands free, Ak’ka brought her arm up to cover her face, muscles coiled and tense with anticipation.[3] The Orc leader’s axe collided with the side of her sturdy arm with an ugly sound akin to metal striking rock, before collapsin’ to the ground a few feet away.
Ak’ka lowered her arms and glanced up just in time to see Everett swept up in the tornado of his own creation.
“Everett! Fuck!”
He had to be okay, right? He was a sky mage… he had to have somethin’ to protect himself. Otherwise Ak’ka didn’t have a single thing in her arsenal to help him.
”DON’T TURN YOUR BACK ON ME!” bereft of his weapon the orc leader charged, arms raised like he was gonna tackle her to the ground. The rage growin’ in the pit of her stomach at watching her ally get thrown into danger, Ak’ka reached for her back - pulled off the pine tree she kept with her, and slammed it into his side. The orc leader got tangled in the string tied around the tree, unable to get free.[4]
Ak’ka wouldn’t give him the chance.
“Say hi to Everett for me.”
She spun, using the momentum from the blow and the pull into the air to throw her tree - Orc and all - into the tornado.
She didn’t get to see if it would kill him or not. The only thing Ak’ka knew about tornadoes was that there wasn’t exactly air on the inside. That if the force didn’t kill ya, the air bein’ ripped from one’s lungs did. The orc leader was made of sterner stuff than his men, and Everett could obviously control the wind, but she had no way of knowin’ what was happening inside.
All she could do was hold her ground and pick off the rest of the brigands on the ground. 1. Boomerang Arc - Orc Leader 2. Art of the Avalanche (2/2 Axes used) 3. Art of the Iron Fist (1/4 hit preventions used) 4. Tree - Glimmerstring - Bull’s Strength tattoo
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