Blood Lord wrote:
When Val passed the darkspawn hunter, she barely glanced at him, and gave him only a few select words. [color=#00BFFF]"Scout on ahead and eliminate any potiental threats. There was a bandit camp somewhere nearby. When you are finished, find us." The Warden-Commander continued her walk down the snowy mountain pass.
Not even a whisper escaped Zha'Grens lips as the Commander gave her orders. His first test, his first task on the chains of his new master. It was enough to make him giddy, having been so long on his own it felt good to have orders again. To let go of his thoughts and embrace the savage loyalty he had displayed for his former master, unwavering and infinitely cruel depending on his task. A nest of bandits wouldn't even cause him to break a sweat.
Zha'Gren would demolish them and scatter the ashes on the trail for Val to walk on. A symbol of her power. A low growl escaped his lips as the savage hunter took off in a full sprint, the rough and rocky path leading up the cliff-side was little more than a walkway to the beast as it deftly navigated the terrain and crossed over the edge without a noise or scuff of rocks falling. Death would forever envy his complete silence it seemed.
Death would also envy his effectiveness to come.
Zha'Grens pace was likely quick as a horse, his training and the raw savagery of his race made the hunter nearly untirable. His muscles pumped harder and harder down the road till he was likely an hour or so ahead by horse. The bandit camp was clearly not a camp anymore. Likely months of activity had turned what was a simple campfire into a small fortress. Wooden logs made up walls and a cavern was cleared out to be used as a foundation for the bulk of the thugs who used this area as a toll bridge. One road and a lot of travelers had to come and go, extorted by the crafty thieves.
A few glances showed lowly thugs wielding crude weapons and shields with weak armor roaming around the great fence, two more blocked the cave entrance with spears, a handful labored in the yard of the little fort, one man was waiting for a traveler to pass by and stop to give him the 'toll' for his goods and life. Who was the leader here?
The answer came a few seconds later.
A scout was riding a rather worn out horse up the path, apparently having seen someone along the road heading upwards from a great distance away as an advanced warning. Clever. The only ones Zha had seen on the road was Val and the others under her. Not so clever. A big warrior in tough iron and leather armor stepped out of the cave and had the two spearmen follow in his trail, the scout giving the report caused the man to alert the rest. Maybe he expected a fight and was preparing? Didn't matter to Zha'Gren. He had orders. The leader would be his trophy.
Creeping up on a camp in broad daylight was tough, creeping up on a camp in broad daylight on the side of a mountain was harder. The sentries moved lazily around the edges, never caring to look over and see if something was hiding in the relative shadow that lay beneath. One was pulled over the wall with a slit throat before the other ever noticed. The skull on Zha'Grens back completely removed sound in his area, anything he touched lost it to. Such beautiful tribal magic.
Up and over went the hunter, slashing the surprised guards throat before a small yelp could escape the mans lips.
Out went two daggers, two laborers fell shrieking from the knives in an eye or throat. On came the spearman, both were clearly former mercinaries as they moved with precision to try and corner the darkspawn threat, more laborers picked up swords to run in.
Backing off wasn't an option now. Zha'Gren unsheathed his scimitar
and took up the curved knife in his opposite hand. With a snarl the beast went to work. A small 'click' and a scream accompanied the bolt that took a man in the throat, momentarily distracted the merc with his spear turned to his companion and signal an attack. He'd thought Zha'Gren a wild beast. Spear knocked wide and eyes bulging, the scimitar ate through armor and bone to stab through flesh and muscle and tear the heart.
He hadn't even collapsed when Zha slashed out again with the great blade to sever the other spear coming at his back while the curved dagger cleaved through the neck to splatter red gore on the rough rocks.
Shouts and cries for help echoed throughout the small camp and into the tunnels, the boss of the operation had retreated for help but apparently noticed his odds becoming less than satisfactory. Two more laborers fell to the curved onslaught of the beast, eyes forever closed and throats left open to the world.
On horseback the thief boss came from the tunnel, hoping to put some distance between the darkspawn threat and find help from a nearby town or atleast give warning. A broken spearhead took his horse in the legs, flipping him over into the hard dirt.
Coughing from the dust and ache in his back, he began to rise. The blood on the rocks near his attacker clearly not belonging to it. "All... All of my work... My men... MY FORTRESS! RUINED!" He screamed, unsure if the creature could understand. Hoping it would feel his rage and dissapointment. Nowhere left to run. Death by steel it was to be, then.
"I will not let you take me so easily, creature." From the downed horse he retrieved his weapon
and went into an easy spin, familiarity evident on his stance and swing. The blades edge had a soft blue glow to it, barely visible in the daylight but all to noticeable for the darkspawn trophy collector. A magic weapon was always a pleasant find.
Out went the spear in a long sweep, the bandit leader backstepped a swipe of Zha's blade and stepped in for a jab of his own. With it's long range it made the threat of the darkspawn getting in close all to problematic, thankfully he kept it at a distance. Dodge and parry, back it forth it went, between the darkspawn menace and the bandit boss.
He'd failed to realize Zha'Gren killed him almost 10 minutes ago. Gradually his swings got slower, less accurate, while the darkspawn thing seemed to grow disinterested in the fight. Sweat pouring down the bandits face made it hard to see, his breath ragged and hard to come by. Poison... The foul creature.
The ground all but leaped up at the poisoned bandit. The spear falling uselessly out of his reach, all he could do was watch as the hunter went to a laborer to retrieve an axe.
"N-No... no... STO-" Steel sliced through the neck to completely sever the head.
With a roar of satisfaction, Zha'Gren placed the bloodied head atop a broken spear and displayed it to the heavens. Not the finest of kills but a kill none the less! Val would be pleased! As for his trophy? The spear would do nicely.
In Zha'Grens hands the spear rested comfortably. It was light, very light, delicate even, but clearly it had some sort of enchantment that kept it sturdy but as for the rest it wasn't clear. Didn't matter.
His task done, and the heads of the other bandits placed atop the wooden spikes of their wall, the hunter made his way back as ordered. Blood did not splatter his clothing, his weapons were not heavy with flesh and bones, but the spear shone on his back as he made his way silently to Val.
The spear thumped harmlessly a few feet infront of Val. From atop a ledge sat the darkspawn hunter Zha'Gren, the savage mask gleaming in what little sunlight remained of the day. "Your... Trophy..." It hissed.
(A writer I am not. Impatient I am. Sloppy this was. Thanks for the fun though."