07-26-2015, 11:28 PM
It’d be a while since Shang Tsung had watched Atelos practice his craft.
With shield, spear, and sword, the Spartan crept the distance between himself and the five monstrous humanoids. Sheathing his blade, he drew the spear from his back and stood up straight just ten yards from his adversaries. “Green men!” Atelos boomed, his shoulders broad as he held his shield down at his side. The five creatures turned and glared at the stranger who stood behind them. From the front, their quarry was far more intimidating, with tusks jutting from the corners of their mouths and eyes that seemed to glow a faint yellow. “Surrender your possessions or be cut down where you stand!”
The creature holding the burlap sack dropped it, but rather than flee, it came rushing right at the Spartan, who reacted by calmly hurtling his long spear. The bronze tip of the polearm found its mark right below its target’s throat, and the momentum caused the muscular beast to fling backward and crumple into a thrashing heap of blood and shrieks. In a swift motion, Atelos drew his sword and drew his shield over his chest. Even though he was the only one there, the Spartan instinctively fell into the stance of a warrior in a phalanx.
As the green men rushed him, one of them let out a violent scream as a flaming skull struck his chest and exploded. A heartbeat later, a second projectile hit a different monster in the head, blasting apart flesh, bone, and brain matter as cinders wafted through the air following the fiery burst.
At the sight of three of their comrades dispatched in a handful of seconds, the other two warriors seemed to lose a little bit of their savagery. Before both could slip out, Atelos stepped forward and thrust his blade through the heart of one of the beasts. As he wrenched the blade free from its rib cage and bashed it away with his shield, he glanced once at the fleeing warrior and then over to Shang, who was jogged toward him.
“No survivors!” The sorcerer barked, and without a second thought, Atelos sprinted after the fleeing creature. As the Spartan vanished up the other side of the hill, Shang walked over to the monster he had earlier wounded and squatted down next to him. The chest wound had shattered its rib cage and punctured its lungs with its own bones, and its breathing had grown very shallow. With a predatory smile, Shang placed a hand on its gore-stained chest and focused his thoughts. It took a little more effort than usual (when was the last time he had received anything this fresh?), but the sorcerer eventually liberated his prize from the now dead creature.
The flash of rainbow lights that faded into the dull green cloud brought a smile to Shang’s visage as the soul faded into his extended hand. As the creature, its body arched unnaturally up as its essence was liberated from it, slumped back down and let out a final, rattling hiss. Its flesh, once a vibrant shade of green, had now faded to a much duller hue.
Rising to his feet, Shang closed his eyes as fresh memories and knowledge were stitched into the pool that had been gradually expanded since he arrived in the Omniverse. All at once, the sorcerer knew everything he needed to know about this dead beast—it was something called an ‘orc.’ Its dialect, previously nothing more than grunts and guttural gibberish, now made sense to Shang. Also new to the man was the fact that they were in a verse called the Tangled Green, where various tribes and small cities eked out an existence in an environment that ranged from temperate forests to vicious rainforests and creeping stretches of mutated and deformed flora.
He was still sorting through the fresh information when the severed head hit the ground a few feet away from him. Glancing over, the sorcerer nodded his head as Atelos strode back toward him. “No survivors,” the Spartan muttered, pointing to the severed cranium with his sword before sheathing the blade. “What’s in the sack?” He asked as he walked over to another corpse and yanked his spear free from another orc’s corpse.
Shang turned his focus to the bag that was still writhing near the edge of the water. Images, thoughts, and emotions flashed into the sorcerer’s head, and once he made some sense of it, he glanced over at his ally. “An elven emissary. These orcs had tracked her to a neighboring verse to prevent her from rendezvousing with some foreign officials.”
The Grecian warrior furrowed his brow as he ‘holstered’ his shield and spear and joined his associate near the sack. “Did you ask it that?”
“I learned it from him,” Shang muttered, gesturing toward the pale orc. It was then that he noticed the creature must have screamed before its soul had been claimed. Boohoo.
“…you spoke with it?”
The sorcerer nodded his head before flashing a warm smile to the Spartan. “I have a lot of education. Their dialect is quite similar to many African tribes.”
“Doesn’t look like any Nubian I’ve ever seen,” Atelos grunted as he dropped down next to the sack and tore away the knot. Shang remained standing as the other man pulled open the top of the bag and started to gently push it down over the writhing figure inside. Once it was down a few feet, they both noticed that the purple-skinned woman had a gag thrust in her mouth. “Should I ungag her?”
The sorcerer nodded and moved to help Atelos free the women. A night elf. They’re enemies of the orcs. Always were… even before the Omniverse. Once the bone was free of her mouth and her hands had been cut free, Shang took a seat next to her. He didn’t move to help her up; for fear that she might lash out in confusion or take it as some sort of insult. “Are you all right?” He asked, hoping that she understood whatever language he spoke.
“Y-yes,” the night elf replied as she pulled the severed ropes from her wrists and ankles. Once she was certain she was free, she glanced at both her ‘saviors’ and nodded her head. “Thank you, I was certain they were going to kill me.”
“It’s all right, Lady.” Atelos replied gruffly as he stared over at the four nearby corpses.
“All in a day’s work,” Shang added with a saccharine smile as he extended a hand. “Can you stand?”
She nodded her head and helped herself up to a vertical position. Without any trees in the immediate area, there was enough sun to see that she had many bruises on her purple skin, and her clothes looked as if she’d been wearing them for at a period of time. “I was in Camelot,” she mumbled, as if she had guessed the next question by the look on Shang’s face as he surveyed her condition. “Lady Tyrande sent me there to visit with an elven enclave residing near the border, but for whatever reason, these orcs ambushed me before I was more than a few hours into Camelot.”
“Why?” Atelos asked, always wanting to get directly to the point in these types of situations.
The emissary’s eyes widened as he shoulders shrugged up and down. “I was just sent with requests to trade supplies. I guess I’d be the human equivalent of a clerk… I just arrange trade deals and see to it that all the I’s get dotted and all the t’s get crossed.”
At this junction, the sorcerer wasn’t sure if she was lying or not. All he knew was that—for whatever reason—the dead orcs saw her mission as a direct threat to their livelihood. If the Spartan wasn’t here, he would have just extracted the information from the elf in a more thorough fashion. Unfortunately, he would have to solve this puzzle the long way. “It’s probably best that you return to your lady,” Shang recommended, seeing no feasible manner in which the young elf could survive a return trip. “I’m sure she’ll want to know that there are orcs assaulting her businesswomen.”
After contemplating the request for a few moments, the night elf nodded her head. “My name is Jess’ryel… do you two mind taking me to Yggdrasil? It’s not more than a few days from here.” When Atelos snorted, she turned to focus her efforts on Shang. “I’m sure Lady Tyrande will be more than happy to line your pockets for helping the night elves.”
The sorcerer nodded his head without needing to think it over. “I am Shang Tsung, and my armored associate is known as Atelos.”
With a smile, Jess’ryel pointed off into the distance. “We’ll have to head that way until we reach the Animus, and once we’re on the other side, it’s won’t be much longer to where the night elves live.”
“Lead the way,” Shang said with a motion of his hand. “I assure you that my companion and I have eyes and ears like the most skilled of predators.”
Although there was more than a little fear in her eyes, the night elf contractor started across the stream a few beats later. Once she was outside of earshot, Atelos walked over to the sorcerer and looked him in the eye. “Are we reduced to hired bodyguards?”
“You’re not thinking in the long term,” Shang muttered as he gestured for Atelos to follow him to the water’s edge. “This will help ingratiate ourselves with these ‘night elf’ creatures. Remember the whole reason we subjected ourselves to traveling with that paladin? The long game, Atelos.”
The Spartan shook his head, more so from disbelief than disagreement. “You’re a born politician, Sorcerer.”
With shield, spear, and sword, the Spartan crept the distance between himself and the five monstrous humanoids. Sheathing his blade, he drew the spear from his back and stood up straight just ten yards from his adversaries. “Green men!” Atelos boomed, his shoulders broad as he held his shield down at his side. The five creatures turned and glared at the stranger who stood behind them. From the front, their quarry was far more intimidating, with tusks jutting from the corners of their mouths and eyes that seemed to glow a faint yellow. “Surrender your possessions or be cut down where you stand!”
The creature holding the burlap sack dropped it, but rather than flee, it came rushing right at the Spartan, who reacted by calmly hurtling his long spear. The bronze tip of the polearm found its mark right below its target’s throat, and the momentum caused the muscular beast to fling backward and crumple into a thrashing heap of blood and shrieks. In a swift motion, Atelos drew his sword and drew his shield over his chest. Even though he was the only one there, the Spartan instinctively fell into the stance of a warrior in a phalanx.
As the green men rushed him, one of them let out a violent scream as a flaming skull struck his chest and exploded. A heartbeat later, a second projectile hit a different monster in the head, blasting apart flesh, bone, and brain matter as cinders wafted through the air following the fiery burst.
At the sight of three of their comrades dispatched in a handful of seconds, the other two warriors seemed to lose a little bit of their savagery. Before both could slip out, Atelos stepped forward and thrust his blade through the heart of one of the beasts. As he wrenched the blade free from its rib cage and bashed it away with his shield, he glanced once at the fleeing warrior and then over to Shang, who was jogged toward him.
“No survivors!” The sorcerer barked, and without a second thought, Atelos sprinted after the fleeing creature. As the Spartan vanished up the other side of the hill, Shang walked over to the monster he had earlier wounded and squatted down next to him. The chest wound had shattered its rib cage and punctured its lungs with its own bones, and its breathing had grown very shallow. With a predatory smile, Shang placed a hand on its gore-stained chest and focused his thoughts. It took a little more effort than usual (when was the last time he had received anything this fresh?), but the sorcerer eventually liberated his prize from the now dead creature.
The flash of rainbow lights that faded into the dull green cloud brought a smile to Shang’s visage as the soul faded into his extended hand. As the creature, its body arched unnaturally up as its essence was liberated from it, slumped back down and let out a final, rattling hiss. Its flesh, once a vibrant shade of green, had now faded to a much duller hue.
Rising to his feet, Shang closed his eyes as fresh memories and knowledge were stitched into the pool that had been gradually expanded since he arrived in the Omniverse. All at once, the sorcerer knew everything he needed to know about this dead beast—it was something called an ‘orc.’ Its dialect, previously nothing more than grunts and guttural gibberish, now made sense to Shang. Also new to the man was the fact that they were in a verse called the Tangled Green, where various tribes and small cities eked out an existence in an environment that ranged from temperate forests to vicious rainforests and creeping stretches of mutated and deformed flora.
He was still sorting through the fresh information when the severed head hit the ground a few feet away from him. Glancing over, the sorcerer nodded his head as Atelos strode back toward him. “No survivors,” the Spartan muttered, pointing to the severed cranium with his sword before sheathing the blade. “What’s in the sack?” He asked as he walked over to another corpse and yanked his spear free from another orc’s corpse.
Shang turned his focus to the bag that was still writhing near the edge of the water. Images, thoughts, and emotions flashed into the sorcerer’s head, and once he made some sense of it, he glanced over at his ally. “An elven emissary. These orcs had tracked her to a neighboring verse to prevent her from rendezvousing with some foreign officials.”
The Grecian warrior furrowed his brow as he ‘holstered’ his shield and spear and joined his associate near the sack. “Did you ask it that?”
“I learned it from him,” Shang muttered, gesturing toward the pale orc. It was then that he noticed the creature must have screamed before its soul had been claimed. Boohoo.
“…you spoke with it?”
The sorcerer nodded his head before flashing a warm smile to the Spartan. “I have a lot of education. Their dialect is quite similar to many African tribes.”
“Doesn’t look like any Nubian I’ve ever seen,” Atelos grunted as he dropped down next to the sack and tore away the knot. Shang remained standing as the other man pulled open the top of the bag and started to gently push it down over the writhing figure inside. Once it was down a few feet, they both noticed that the purple-skinned woman had a gag thrust in her mouth. “Should I ungag her?”
The sorcerer nodded and moved to help Atelos free the women. A night elf. They’re enemies of the orcs. Always were… even before the Omniverse. Once the bone was free of her mouth and her hands had been cut free, Shang took a seat next to her. He didn’t move to help her up; for fear that she might lash out in confusion or take it as some sort of insult. “Are you all right?” He asked, hoping that she understood whatever language he spoke.
“Y-yes,” the night elf replied as she pulled the severed ropes from her wrists and ankles. Once she was certain she was free, she glanced at both her ‘saviors’ and nodded her head. “Thank you, I was certain they were going to kill me.”
“It’s all right, Lady.” Atelos replied gruffly as he stared over at the four nearby corpses.
“All in a day’s work,” Shang added with a saccharine smile as he extended a hand. “Can you stand?”
She nodded her head and helped herself up to a vertical position. Without any trees in the immediate area, there was enough sun to see that she had many bruises on her purple skin, and her clothes looked as if she’d been wearing them for at a period of time. “I was in Camelot,” she mumbled, as if she had guessed the next question by the look on Shang’s face as he surveyed her condition. “Lady Tyrande sent me there to visit with an elven enclave residing near the border, but for whatever reason, these orcs ambushed me before I was more than a few hours into Camelot.”
“Why?” Atelos asked, always wanting to get directly to the point in these types of situations.
The emissary’s eyes widened as he shoulders shrugged up and down. “I was just sent with requests to trade supplies. I guess I’d be the human equivalent of a clerk… I just arrange trade deals and see to it that all the I’s get dotted and all the t’s get crossed.”
At this junction, the sorcerer wasn’t sure if she was lying or not. All he knew was that—for whatever reason—the dead orcs saw her mission as a direct threat to their livelihood. If the Spartan wasn’t here, he would have just extracted the information from the elf in a more thorough fashion. Unfortunately, he would have to solve this puzzle the long way. “It’s probably best that you return to your lady,” Shang recommended, seeing no feasible manner in which the young elf could survive a return trip. “I’m sure she’ll want to know that there are orcs assaulting her businesswomen.”
After contemplating the request for a few moments, the night elf nodded her head. “My name is Jess’ryel… do you two mind taking me to Yggdrasil? It’s not more than a few days from here.” When Atelos snorted, she turned to focus her efforts on Shang. “I’m sure Lady Tyrande will be more than happy to line your pockets for helping the night elves.”
The sorcerer nodded his head without needing to think it over. “I am Shang Tsung, and my armored associate is known as Atelos.”
With a smile, Jess’ryel pointed off into the distance. “We’ll have to head that way until we reach the Animus, and once we’re on the other side, it’s won’t be much longer to where the night elves live.”
“Lead the way,” Shang said with a motion of his hand. “I assure you that my companion and I have eyes and ears like the most skilled of predators.”
Although there was more than a little fear in her eyes, the night elf contractor started across the stream a few beats later. Once she was outside of earshot, Atelos walked over to the sorcerer and looked him in the eye. “Are we reduced to hired bodyguards?”
“You’re not thinking in the long term,” Shang muttered as he gestured for Atelos to follow him to the water’s edge. “This will help ingratiate ourselves with these ‘night elf’ creatures. Remember the whole reason we subjected ourselves to traveling with that paladin? The long game, Atelos.”
The Spartan shook his head, more so from disbelief than disagreement. “You’re a born politician, Sorcerer.”
![[Image: Shang.jpg]](http://www.omniverse-rpg.com/images/Shang.jpg)