02-21-2018, 01:21 PM
“I could have done that without the mess,” Shang Tsung muttered as Hades wiped the blood from his grimy hands. The dark-eyed Spartan sneered as he paid a final glance over his shoulder at the mutilated corpse of the drow.
“And I’m sure it would have been a lot less enjoyable.“
The sorcerer shook his head even though he wore a smile. “He said they have an outpost in the region?”
“Six hundred meters north-north-west, near the part where the river meets the mountains.”
“And you trust his information?”
Hades grinned. “Either way, I’m sure we’ll find more drow waiting to join their damn little spider bitch in oblivion.”
Shang Tsung gave a nod and glanced back to their makeshift bivouac. “We’ll leave them here. There’s no chance they will survive an assault on any sort of fortified dark elf position.”
“Then they can die soaking up some of those fucking poison bolts for us.” Hades chuckled. “I mean, they can die for the glory of Darkshire.”
Once again, the sorcerer shook his head, but this time, he did so to conceal the faint smirk on his muddied features. “Your better half would have too much paperwork if we lose his entire squad on this mission.
The dark Spartan rolled his eyes as he took a few steps toward their eventual destination. “Don’t dawdle, Sorcerer, or there will be none for you.” With that, he started a slow march, leaving Shang Tsung to hurriedly deal with the loose ends. With Hades receding into the forest, the bureaucrat rushed back to the recruits. It was easy to tell that all of them were cold, hungry, and afraid, yet their resolve kept them from complaining or losing their heads.
With their attention shifting to him as he emerged from the brush, the sorcerer lifted a hand to make sure they saw his identity and did not attack. “Calm. Captain Atelos and I are going to move ahead to neutralize a den of these creatures further into the forest.”
“We’re to stay here?” One of the recruits inquired.
“Form a defensive bulkwark here, where the forest gives way to the plains. If any of the drow attempt to flee into the open, you are to cut them down. With any luck, this display will be enough to cow them for a few months.”
“How will the two of you survive attacking a fortified drow position?” Another recruit asked, eliciting a grin from Shang Tsung.
“Do you know of whom you speak?” The sorcerer asked. “Your captain and I survived Silent Hill. We survived the great god of this place. He helped slay the Tarrasque. We are wholly capable, but we need a reliable second line. Can you be that line?”
“Aye aye!” The soldiers barked as they hustled to ready themselves. With some luck, they would be unnecessary, but Shang Tsung didn’t want to leave any gaps in their strategy.
Turning from the fresh-faced recruits, the sorcerer rushed ahead to join his ally.
It was only through a stroke of luck that Shang Tsung reached Hades just as the dark Spartan arrived at the outskirts of the drow base. Lifting a clenched fist at the sound of his companion’s boots on the ground, the Grecian warrior gestured with his other hand toward a cave nestled in the foothills to their left. Like a scar across an otherwise gorgeous face, the tiny mountain range left a gash in the trees that lasted all the way until these glorified foothills fused into the greater Carpathian range.
“That’s a red herring,” Shang whispered as he slowly walked up next to Hades.
The Spartan turned a scowl toward his fellow warrior. “What do fish have to do with this situation?”
“It means they are misleading us. Why would creatures as smart and insidious as the drow bivouac inside a cave?”
“Underground tunnels? Could connect to their mother city. ”
“That makes it even worse,” Shang whispered. “They trick us into getting lost in a bunch of dark tunnels.”
“You’re too cautious.”
From behind the pair, a female voice spoke in haughty tones that rankled both men. “You’re both idiots.”
Shang spun just in time to absorb the bolt of fel energy as it crashed against his chest. The man, his body a ragdoll compared to the force of the blast, went sailing twenty feet backwards before crashing against the base of the rising cliffs.
“Bitch.” Hades seethed as he drew his spear and rushed the lithe figure. The drow priestess sneered as she evaded the initial thrust of the bronze weaponry. Sidestepping away from her attacker’s strong side, she quickly summoned up another burst of magicks that sent the Grecian tumbling to the ground.
“Your misery is just beginning,” she spoke as a woozy sorcerer noticed that the trees were shaking as if a gale force wind had started to blow through the forest. Steeling himself for the fight to come, Shang rose to his feet and adjusted the silver ring he wore. The icon emblazoned on it glowed faintly—a reminder of the power contained within its humble design. It knew that the sorcerer would soon call upon its might, and the ring would not disappoint him, even if he had yet to find a culpable means to reproduce its capabilities with lesser folk.
For the moment, Shang Tsung let his attention be drawn to the trees that were now behind the priestess. Slender figures dropped down from the canopy as yet another drow strike team materialized from the shadows. Like a waterfall, they pour forth and crashed into Hades, who had quickly regained his composure. The Spartan, seething with fury, stood resolute against the attackers. Foul, dark blood sprayed through the night air as the well-oiled machine and muscle and steel tore into his would-be assailants.
It seemed as if the battle would be a fast one.
And then the trees exploded.
At his distance from the carnage, the sorcerer wasn’t showered with broken branches and chunks of dismembered tree. His ally, however, was caught in the side of the head and lost his balance. If not for the general state of disarray in the drow ranks, they could have slain their foe then and there.
From the shattered edge of the forest, a monstrous creature strode forward.
The top half of the beast was that of a male drow wreathed in heavy armor and wielding a pair of blades that should be too heavy for it.
From the waist down, there were no nimble legs. The bottom half of the abomination was the hulking, grotesque form of a massive spider, with eight clawed legs the width of a fully grown man.
The drider—a thirteen-foot behemoth—let out an animal screech from what had once been the mouth of an intelligent creature. Blades clenched at the ready, it came barreling toward the dazed Spartan.
Shang Tsung, aware of the dark shapes now forming to his right, rush to the side of his ally.
“And I’m sure it would have been a lot less enjoyable.“
The sorcerer shook his head even though he wore a smile. “He said they have an outpost in the region?”
“Six hundred meters north-north-west, near the part where the river meets the mountains.”
“And you trust his information?”
Hades grinned. “Either way, I’m sure we’ll find more drow waiting to join their damn little spider bitch in oblivion.”
Shang Tsung gave a nod and glanced back to their makeshift bivouac. “We’ll leave them here. There’s no chance they will survive an assault on any sort of fortified dark elf position.”
“Then they can die soaking up some of those fucking poison bolts for us.” Hades chuckled. “I mean, they can die for the glory of Darkshire.”
Once again, the sorcerer shook his head, but this time, he did so to conceal the faint smirk on his muddied features. “Your better half would have too much paperwork if we lose his entire squad on this mission.
The dark Spartan rolled his eyes as he took a few steps toward their eventual destination. “Don’t dawdle, Sorcerer, or there will be none for you.” With that, he started a slow march, leaving Shang Tsung to hurriedly deal with the loose ends. With Hades receding into the forest, the bureaucrat rushed back to the recruits. It was easy to tell that all of them were cold, hungry, and afraid, yet their resolve kept them from complaining or losing their heads.
With their attention shifting to him as he emerged from the brush, the sorcerer lifted a hand to make sure they saw his identity and did not attack. “Calm. Captain Atelos and I are going to move ahead to neutralize a den of these creatures further into the forest.”
“We’re to stay here?” One of the recruits inquired.
“Form a defensive bulkwark here, where the forest gives way to the plains. If any of the drow attempt to flee into the open, you are to cut them down. With any luck, this display will be enough to cow them for a few months.”
“How will the two of you survive attacking a fortified drow position?” Another recruit asked, eliciting a grin from Shang Tsung.
“Do you know of whom you speak?” The sorcerer asked. “Your captain and I survived Silent Hill. We survived the great god of this place. He helped slay the Tarrasque. We are wholly capable, but we need a reliable second line. Can you be that line?”
“Aye aye!” The soldiers barked as they hustled to ready themselves. With some luck, they would be unnecessary, but Shang Tsung didn’t want to leave any gaps in their strategy.
Turning from the fresh-faced recruits, the sorcerer rushed ahead to join his ally.
It was only through a stroke of luck that Shang Tsung reached Hades just as the dark Spartan arrived at the outskirts of the drow base. Lifting a clenched fist at the sound of his companion’s boots on the ground, the Grecian warrior gestured with his other hand toward a cave nestled in the foothills to their left. Like a scar across an otherwise gorgeous face, the tiny mountain range left a gash in the trees that lasted all the way until these glorified foothills fused into the greater Carpathian range.
“That’s a red herring,” Shang whispered as he slowly walked up next to Hades.
The Spartan turned a scowl toward his fellow warrior. “What do fish have to do with this situation?”
“It means they are misleading us. Why would creatures as smart and insidious as the drow bivouac inside a cave?”
“Underground tunnels? Could connect to their mother city. ”
“That makes it even worse,” Shang whispered. “They trick us into getting lost in a bunch of dark tunnels.”
“You’re too cautious.”
From behind the pair, a female voice spoke in haughty tones that rankled both men. “You’re both idiots.”
Shang spun just in time to absorb the bolt of fel energy as it crashed against his chest. The man, his body a ragdoll compared to the force of the blast, went sailing twenty feet backwards before crashing against the base of the rising cliffs.
“Bitch.” Hades seethed as he drew his spear and rushed the lithe figure. The drow priestess sneered as she evaded the initial thrust of the bronze weaponry. Sidestepping away from her attacker’s strong side, she quickly summoned up another burst of magicks that sent the Grecian tumbling to the ground.
“Your misery is just beginning,” she spoke as a woozy sorcerer noticed that the trees were shaking as if a gale force wind had started to blow through the forest. Steeling himself for the fight to come, Shang rose to his feet and adjusted the silver ring he wore. The icon emblazoned on it glowed faintly—a reminder of the power contained within its humble design. It knew that the sorcerer would soon call upon its might, and the ring would not disappoint him, even if he had yet to find a culpable means to reproduce its capabilities with lesser folk.
For the moment, Shang Tsung let his attention be drawn to the trees that were now behind the priestess. Slender figures dropped down from the canopy as yet another drow strike team materialized from the shadows. Like a waterfall, they pour forth and crashed into Hades, who had quickly regained his composure. The Spartan, seething with fury, stood resolute against the attackers. Foul, dark blood sprayed through the night air as the well-oiled machine and muscle and steel tore into his would-be assailants.
It seemed as if the battle would be a fast one.
And then the trees exploded.
At his distance from the carnage, the sorcerer wasn’t showered with broken branches and chunks of dismembered tree. His ally, however, was caught in the side of the head and lost his balance. If not for the general state of disarray in the drow ranks, they could have slain their foe then and there.
From the shattered edge of the forest, a monstrous creature strode forward.
The top half of the beast was that of a male drow wreathed in heavy armor and wielding a pair of blades that should be too heavy for it.
From the waist down, there were no nimble legs. The bottom half of the abomination was the hulking, grotesque form of a massive spider, with eight clawed legs the width of a fully grown man.
The drider—a thirteen-foot behemoth—let out an animal screech from what had once been the mouth of an intelligent creature. Blades clenched at the ready, it came barreling toward the dazed Spartan.
Shang Tsung, aware of the dark shapes now forming to his right, rush to the side of his ally.