02-26-2015, 03:26 AM
The four short figures looked up as the Chosen came dashing into the camp, and what a sight to see. An ice covered man in metal, frost, snow and ice had crusted upon his heavy plate in places, making him crack slightly as he went into his full sprint. A long, straight blade in one hand, and a grooved, silver engraved shield in the other. He should probably explain, that was really the best thing to do but...ah, well, the Chosen Undead was not exactly the best at speaking...in fact he was kind of...mute. He was not sure if it was a result of being a zombie, if he had simply forgotten, or if he had just always been mute but...well...yeah, speaking was sort of out of the question. Instead, he just moved up to the strange men and moved behind them, quickly hacking through the ropes binding them to the posts. One by one the four short figures fell to the ground, thanks to being close to the fire, there wasn't much snow or ice, but they were still barely clad, just loincloths really as they rubbed sore wrists and ankles. One of them, a man with a big, bristling yellow beard, and matching hair, started barking orders...but the baying of trolls from the labyrinth was growing near. The yellow bearded man turned to the Chosen, "Ye've done us a great favor, and our gear's in the main troll's tent. I hate ta ask, but can ye keep the trolls off for a few more minutes. Shouldn' take us too long ta get outfitted."
Trolls...the strange, tusked creatures the Chosen had been fighting were called trolls. The name seemed oddly fitting somehow, still he had learned something new at least, and he nodded. Then, without another gesture, since there hadn't been a first word to begin with, he turned around, shield coming up as the first of the trolls emerged from the entrance to the maze of canyons. The four men were out of sight, in that main tent...probably the tent of that armored troll come to think of it. However, the Chosen put that out of his mind as the first of the trolls to appear threw his spear towards the armored fighter. Calmly, the zombie caught it on his shield, letting it bounce and slide off to hit the ground harmlessly. Then he stepped forward as the troll drew axe and sprinted the rest of the distance. Straight sword thrust towards the creature's chest, and was batted aside with the axe, before the troll brought it around in a slash towards his head. The shield came in again, catching it and forcing it to slide up over his head, while he brought the sword back around in a quick cut that dug through fur clothing and into the stomach, opening up a painful gash in the creature's side. While the creature roared in pain, the sword twisted, to turn the slash into a thrust that dove into the stomach and out the other side, before a swift kick pushed the creature off his blade, and just in time too, another two trolls were just behind him, rushing the Chosen Undead.
He met them both, shield blocking axe and sword deflecting spear. The swordsman gave ground despite the strong start, stepping backwards slowly and carefully as he deflected, diverted, blocked and clashed with the two trolls. They were skilled, and knew how to fight with each other, forcing him back as he waited patiently for the opportunity he needed, but he didn't exactly have an abundance of time, as more trolls were starting to return from the maze, this could get very ugly, and very fast. A third troll was bearing down to join the first two, and a fourth behind that, and a fifth and sixth. He backed up quicker, the Chosen now seeking a way to try and bolt for a more advantageous position, but, as he moved to pull back, something went spinning through the air to take one of the trolls in the thigh, making him cry out and fall, tripping into the ground. Startled the Chosen risked a look over his shoulder, and there were the four dwarves, now dressed in shining chain mail, well...shiny chain mail, and armed with large hammers and battleaxes! They charged the surprised trolls, and well, the Chosen wasn't about to let this opportunity go by!
He hurtled forward himself, and slammed his shield into one of the two trolls he had been fighting, knocking him on his rear with a solid blow. At the same time, his straight sword flew forward in a vicious thrust, the second troll stepping to the side and managing to avoid it, but he did not avoid the follow up slash. A quick turn of the wrist and a swing, and the sword went out to the side, carving through fur and stomach to spill his innards over the ground. Then, his arm pulled back and his sword thrust through the skull of the fallen troll. With this victory he did not stop to relish it but pulled free and leaped to battle. There were still many more trolls than Undead and dwarves, twelve of them at least! The Chosen and his newfound allies would have to work hard to still succeed in this battle. The dwarves themselves had split into pairs, to cover each other and keep the trolls from surrounding and cutting them off, but they would still use their superior numbers against the dwarves if allowed to. Fortunately the Chosen was not simply going to allow this to happen. He rushed forward, it was time to go on a hard offensive, in three groups like they were, two pairs and one zombie, the trolls could gang up in fours and outnumber them extremely, he had to cut them down to size before that happened! The straight sword lashed out immediately, and hit the haft of a spear as a troll blocked the cut, but he just stepped forward, pressing the weapons together as a metal knee slammed into his gut, doubling him over. Then, the blade slid free of the spear and the Chosen stepped around the troll, neatly thrusting a blade into his neck in the process, before he turned and brought his shield up, catching an axe upon the silvery surface, and thrusting beneath it, pushing the blade into a belly.
With a hard pull of his arm he cut through the belly and sent the troll sprawling onto his knees, but the other two had not been idle. He turned, but was too slow as an axe slammed into his helmet, staggering him as he stumbled to the side. The second immediately thrust for him, and a spear hit his chest, the hardened tip piercing his mail and plunging into the chest beneath. However, instead of falling, instead of dying like all the others who had suffered such painful injuries, like the trolls he had already cut down, the Chosen remained standing. Instead of falling, he groaned out, took a step back, but then his sword came back and down, and then he thrust forward, the sharp, hard tip hitting the troll and sliding into him, piercing through ribs and into his heart. Then, a quick tug pulled the blade free of him as he toppled backwards, and the knight’s left arm rose again, blocking the axe sweep of his enraged partner on that sturdy, reliable shield of his. Then he stepped forward, pushing shield and axe up, as his sword went down and thrust into his stomach, bringing down the fourth troll in a quick thrust, and then cut free. With himself currently clear for a moment, he quickly surveyed the situation, and it was quickly apparent who needed his help.
One pair of dwarves was still standing, managing to fend off their four trolls even if they hadn’t brought any of them down. The other pair though, one of the dwarves was down, so was a single troll, but that left three against one, terrible odds for anyone. Immediately he sprinted towards the group, his boots crunching across the snow, and was easily heard and spotted. One of the trolls turned to face him, and he just rammed into the tusked brute shield first. The both of them fell, but where the troll fell down, the Chosen rolled over him and up to his feet. Rolling was as natural as sprinting for this warrior, and he was almost immediately on one foot and a knee, before hurtling up and towards the other two trolls. One of them turned and brought his spear up, but the Chosen dove and went into another roll. Not only did he go into another combat roll, but of all the strange things, his speed seemed to increase dramatically, as if he could roll faster than he could run. He came up on a knee again, but right behind the other troll, who could not afford to turn his back on the dwarf, and did not have the time. The armored warrior came up, and his sword thrust straight into his back. A painful, vicious Backstab, and strangely enough, this one attack seemed to do far more harm to the opposing troll than his usual, skilled slashes and thrusts, perhaps hitting a more critical area from the vantage point, or simply a result of the strange workings of the Omniverse. Regardless, the troll went down, but a troll from the intact group of four was sprinting towards him now, and the first troll that he had simply tackled was getting up, as well as an attack coming in from the troll he had rolled past!
Yet, the Chosen was not fighting alone for once. As the troll’s axe came towards him, the sharp, gleaming blade of the dwarf rushed in and slammed into his knee, sending him sprawling forward, just to be finished off from an overhead swing from the dwarf, severing the troll’s very head! The two warriors exchanged a brief nod, before the Chosen turned to face the newcoming troll, while the dwarf turned to face the troll who had just picked himself up off the ground. Some might give credit to these beasts for having such courage when facing a warrior who had slain multiple of their fellows in a roll as a matter of course, but for the Chosen? It was typical. He could not remember the last time someone had tried to run from him that was not an invading spirit. Thus, the corpse did not even think about it, he just strode forward to meet the tusked brute, he caught the axe on his shield, slashed, thrust, and pulled free, and down the creature went. With the last group, two of the three trolls had gone down, and the last one was desperately fending off a tag team of two determined, bearded axemen, and soon he went down. The troll that had been picking itself up? Also down. A good fight, and at last over. One of the dwarves was down though, and the Chosen had taken a hit that would kill an ordinary man...and now that the rush of combat over, it kind of stung...a lot.
Still, he could deal with it, especially since it would recover with enough time, typically several hours. The fallen dwarf though? There was no saving him. The knight stood back, as the other three dwarves gathered around their comrade, one of them crouching down to check, and confirming that he was dead. The Chosen left them to their grief, keeping a watch in case any other trolls showed up, stepping a good distance away, and resting the tip of the straight sword in the ice as he watched over the maze of cliffs. He was not quite sure how long he stood there, but eventually he heard crunching bootsteps approaching him, and turned to face one of the dwarves, the body of their fallen comrade was gone, they must have buried him while he was keeping watch. “We’re finished...thank ye fer yer help, and consideration. Tell me stranger, what’s yer name?”
Ah, now here was a problem. The Chosen Undead shifted a bit, and then at last shrugged. An exaggerated gesture that brought his metal covered shoulders up. Then, after sheathing his sword, he pointed to his throat, and then shook his head, trying to make it clear that he couldn’t actually talk. Fortunately, the message seemed to get through, “Ah, ye can’ talk? Heh, ye must be new to tha Omniverse.” The what now? “Still, come along, we should get movin’, we can explain more later...if ye feel like travelin’ with us that is.” Now that seemed like a grand idea to the Chosen Undead. A way to get answers, information, and battle companions rather than wandering ignorant, and without help or aid of any kind! He quickly nodded his agreement, and after a few moments for the dwarves to look through the remains of the camp for useful items, the three dwarves and the metal clad corpse set off. According to the dwarf, who had named himself Gilnor, they were heading to a village not too far from here, a village, and not one that was full of hollowed freaks and zombies! The Chosen could hardly imagine the idea, but he was quite looking forward to it. He was finally getting somewhere!
Trolls...the strange, tusked creatures the Chosen had been fighting were called trolls. The name seemed oddly fitting somehow, still he had learned something new at least, and he nodded. Then, without another gesture, since there hadn't been a first word to begin with, he turned around, shield coming up as the first of the trolls emerged from the entrance to the maze of canyons. The four men were out of sight, in that main tent...probably the tent of that armored troll come to think of it. However, the Chosen put that out of his mind as the first of the trolls to appear threw his spear towards the armored fighter. Calmly, the zombie caught it on his shield, letting it bounce and slide off to hit the ground harmlessly. Then he stepped forward as the troll drew axe and sprinted the rest of the distance. Straight sword thrust towards the creature's chest, and was batted aside with the axe, before the troll brought it around in a slash towards his head. The shield came in again, catching it and forcing it to slide up over his head, while he brought the sword back around in a quick cut that dug through fur clothing and into the stomach, opening up a painful gash in the creature's side. While the creature roared in pain, the sword twisted, to turn the slash into a thrust that dove into the stomach and out the other side, before a swift kick pushed the creature off his blade, and just in time too, another two trolls were just behind him, rushing the Chosen Undead.
He met them both, shield blocking axe and sword deflecting spear. The swordsman gave ground despite the strong start, stepping backwards slowly and carefully as he deflected, diverted, blocked and clashed with the two trolls. They were skilled, and knew how to fight with each other, forcing him back as he waited patiently for the opportunity he needed, but he didn't exactly have an abundance of time, as more trolls were starting to return from the maze, this could get very ugly, and very fast. A third troll was bearing down to join the first two, and a fourth behind that, and a fifth and sixth. He backed up quicker, the Chosen now seeking a way to try and bolt for a more advantageous position, but, as he moved to pull back, something went spinning through the air to take one of the trolls in the thigh, making him cry out and fall, tripping into the ground. Startled the Chosen risked a look over his shoulder, and there were the four dwarves, now dressed in shining chain mail, well...shiny chain mail, and armed with large hammers and battleaxes! They charged the surprised trolls, and well, the Chosen wasn't about to let this opportunity go by!
He hurtled forward himself, and slammed his shield into one of the two trolls he had been fighting, knocking him on his rear with a solid blow. At the same time, his straight sword flew forward in a vicious thrust, the second troll stepping to the side and managing to avoid it, but he did not avoid the follow up slash. A quick turn of the wrist and a swing, and the sword went out to the side, carving through fur and stomach to spill his innards over the ground. Then, his arm pulled back and his sword thrust through the skull of the fallen troll. With this victory he did not stop to relish it but pulled free and leaped to battle. There were still many more trolls than Undead and dwarves, twelve of them at least! The Chosen and his newfound allies would have to work hard to still succeed in this battle. The dwarves themselves had split into pairs, to cover each other and keep the trolls from surrounding and cutting them off, but they would still use their superior numbers against the dwarves if allowed to. Fortunately the Chosen was not simply going to allow this to happen. He rushed forward, it was time to go on a hard offensive, in three groups like they were, two pairs and one zombie, the trolls could gang up in fours and outnumber them extremely, he had to cut them down to size before that happened! The straight sword lashed out immediately, and hit the haft of a spear as a troll blocked the cut, but he just stepped forward, pressing the weapons together as a metal knee slammed into his gut, doubling him over. Then, the blade slid free of the spear and the Chosen stepped around the troll, neatly thrusting a blade into his neck in the process, before he turned and brought his shield up, catching an axe upon the silvery surface, and thrusting beneath it, pushing the blade into a belly.
With a hard pull of his arm he cut through the belly and sent the troll sprawling onto his knees, but the other two had not been idle. He turned, but was too slow as an axe slammed into his helmet, staggering him as he stumbled to the side. The second immediately thrust for him, and a spear hit his chest, the hardened tip piercing his mail and plunging into the chest beneath. However, instead of falling, instead of dying like all the others who had suffered such painful injuries, like the trolls he had already cut down, the Chosen remained standing. Instead of falling, he groaned out, took a step back, but then his sword came back and down, and then he thrust forward, the sharp, hard tip hitting the troll and sliding into him, piercing through ribs and into his heart. Then, a quick tug pulled the blade free of him as he toppled backwards, and the knight’s left arm rose again, blocking the axe sweep of his enraged partner on that sturdy, reliable shield of his. Then he stepped forward, pushing shield and axe up, as his sword went down and thrust into his stomach, bringing down the fourth troll in a quick thrust, and then cut free. With himself currently clear for a moment, he quickly surveyed the situation, and it was quickly apparent who needed his help.
One pair of dwarves was still standing, managing to fend off their four trolls even if they hadn’t brought any of them down. The other pair though, one of the dwarves was down, so was a single troll, but that left three against one, terrible odds for anyone. Immediately he sprinted towards the group, his boots crunching across the snow, and was easily heard and spotted. One of the trolls turned to face him, and he just rammed into the tusked brute shield first. The both of them fell, but where the troll fell down, the Chosen rolled over him and up to his feet. Rolling was as natural as sprinting for this warrior, and he was almost immediately on one foot and a knee, before hurtling up and towards the other two trolls. One of them turned and brought his spear up, but the Chosen dove and went into another roll. Not only did he go into another combat roll, but of all the strange things, his speed seemed to increase dramatically, as if he could roll faster than he could run. He came up on a knee again, but right behind the other troll, who could not afford to turn his back on the dwarf, and did not have the time. The armored warrior came up, and his sword thrust straight into his back. A painful, vicious Backstab, and strangely enough, this one attack seemed to do far more harm to the opposing troll than his usual, skilled slashes and thrusts, perhaps hitting a more critical area from the vantage point, or simply a result of the strange workings of the Omniverse. Regardless, the troll went down, but a troll from the intact group of four was sprinting towards him now, and the first troll that he had simply tackled was getting up, as well as an attack coming in from the troll he had rolled past!
Yet, the Chosen was not fighting alone for once. As the troll’s axe came towards him, the sharp, gleaming blade of the dwarf rushed in and slammed into his knee, sending him sprawling forward, just to be finished off from an overhead swing from the dwarf, severing the troll’s very head! The two warriors exchanged a brief nod, before the Chosen turned to face the newcoming troll, while the dwarf turned to face the troll who had just picked himself up off the ground. Some might give credit to these beasts for having such courage when facing a warrior who had slain multiple of their fellows in a roll as a matter of course, but for the Chosen? It was typical. He could not remember the last time someone had tried to run from him that was not an invading spirit. Thus, the corpse did not even think about it, he just strode forward to meet the tusked brute, he caught the axe on his shield, slashed, thrust, and pulled free, and down the creature went. With the last group, two of the three trolls had gone down, and the last one was desperately fending off a tag team of two determined, bearded axemen, and soon he went down. The troll that had been picking itself up? Also down. A good fight, and at last over. One of the dwarves was down though, and the Chosen had taken a hit that would kill an ordinary man...and now that the rush of combat over, it kind of stung...a lot.
Still, he could deal with it, especially since it would recover with enough time, typically several hours. The fallen dwarf though? There was no saving him. The knight stood back, as the other three dwarves gathered around their comrade, one of them crouching down to check, and confirming that he was dead. The Chosen left them to their grief, keeping a watch in case any other trolls showed up, stepping a good distance away, and resting the tip of the straight sword in the ice as he watched over the maze of cliffs. He was not quite sure how long he stood there, but eventually he heard crunching bootsteps approaching him, and turned to face one of the dwarves, the body of their fallen comrade was gone, they must have buried him while he was keeping watch. “We’re finished...thank ye fer yer help, and consideration. Tell me stranger, what’s yer name?”
Ah, now here was a problem. The Chosen Undead shifted a bit, and then at last shrugged. An exaggerated gesture that brought his metal covered shoulders up. Then, after sheathing his sword, he pointed to his throat, and then shook his head, trying to make it clear that he couldn’t actually talk. Fortunately, the message seemed to get through, “Ah, ye can’ talk? Heh, ye must be new to tha Omniverse.” The what now? “Still, come along, we should get movin’, we can explain more later...if ye feel like travelin’ with us that is.” Now that seemed like a grand idea to the Chosen Undead. A way to get answers, information, and battle companions rather than wandering ignorant, and without help or aid of any kind! He quickly nodded his agreement, and after a few moments for the dwarves to look through the remains of the camp for useful items, the three dwarves and the metal clad corpse set off. According to the dwarf, who had named himself Gilnor, they were heading to a village not too far from here, a village, and not one that was full of hollowed freaks and zombies! The Chosen could hardly imagine the idea, but he was quite looking forward to it. He was finally getting somewhere!