08-12-2015, 09:55 AM
The orcs thundered towards the group with murderous intent. They poured forth from the treeline, seemingly numerous. A hail of arrows blanketed the poor group of misfits, forcing them back against the walls of the ruined temple.
Bucky, the plucky B-1 droid shuffled backwards, greeting the orcs with a hail of blaster fire. A bright red fusillade of energy bolts carved into the oncoming green tide. His defective processor kicked into full gear and his robotic voice called out “Die Jedi Scum!” The insult fell on deaf ears as a particularly large orc bellowed a battlecry and chucked a brutishly large spear at the combat droid. The projectile collided with the robot’s left shoulder, forcing the clumsy droid to stumble backwards. A shower of sparks erupted from the injury and Bucky found his trusty left arm difficult to move.
The devastating echo of Mr. Clayton’s shotgun called out across the battlefield. He had taken a defensive position behind the other secondaries. The gentleman took great pleasure in what did not amount to much more than skeet shooting for him. His targets were too busy with their bloodthirsty charge to hide behind cover. Several arrows peppered the ground around him, but he took no mind to them firing once more into the crowd of greenskinned brutes. Another wave of arrows assaulted Clayton, forcing him to retreat back behind a waist-high stone wall. He did not escape unscathed, one of the arrows had found its mark along his right thigh, slicing a line of fire through his meaty flesh.
From the treeline Boer had been silently watching the commotion. The horde of orcs seemed to be endless and he wasn’t about to throw away his life trying to defend strangers. His voyeurism was interrupted by a sudden stinging sensation in his back. The beast-man whipped around to find a cackling cluster of goblins. The pernicious creatures wielded poison-tipped darts and had attempted to turn his back into a pincushion. “Why you little bastards” he bellowed, firing a rifle round into the nearest goblin. The creatures scattered into the underbrush, frightened from the imposing beast-man. Boer grunted in amusement as the skittish creatures seemingly made their escape. His joy was cut short as a hail of darts erupted from the foliage, forcing him to retreat into the clearing and subsequently into the battlefield.
Grave and Abner found themselves surrounded by a particularly vicious group of orcs. The brutes wielded all manner of crude and sinister weaponry, massive axes and bulky spears threatened the two secondaries. Grave wasted no time, firing round after round into the encroaching orcs, his relentless onslaught beat back the monstrous creatures. Abner followed Grave’s lead and fired his own pistol in between Grave’s withering gunfire. The warrior remained calm and collected, making sure each shot found its mark. The duo carved a path through the orcs and ran to rendezvous with the rest of the party. Their retreat was cut short by a barrage of poorly-aimed arrows.
An echoing roar was heard across the chaos of the battlefield. From the trees burst a massive forest troll. Its body was caked with dirt and moss and it clutched a large club in its meaty mitts. The beat roared with fury and charged forth towards the group. Klaud reacted quickly and with a flick of her wrist she wrapped her whip around the stampeding beast’s legs. The troll stumbled and fell to its knees, just barely catching itself before collapsing. Captain Crow took this opportunity to dart into the fray. With a dazzling display of speed he snaked between several orcs to strike at the troll. He slashed at the creature’s exposed sides and it roared in pain. Klaud did her best to keep the creature subdued, but with a mighty tub on her whip the troll pulled her close. The whip loosened and the troll lashed out, rushing to its feet and blindly swinging its club. The General and Captain were caught off-guard by the surprising burst of speed and both of them took a glancing blow from the club.
Meanwhile the resident zombie blindly charged towards a group of goblins. The small creatures scattered at the sight of the ravenous undead. Urg followed the closest one without hesitation, his simple mind unable to resist the allure of a chase. Eventually, with a half-hearted leap the zombie collapsed on the slippery creature. Its frightened shrieks were soon silenced by a sickening crunch as Urg began to feast. The battle raged around him, seemingly oblivious to the undead creature. When Urg’s belly was full the zombie stood up only to find that the little goblin had lodged a dagger into his chest.
Being experienced in combat against orcs Raw Onion took to the sky, knowing that they would have a hard time hitting her. She struck strategically, dive bombing key targets delivering vicious kicks to her unprepared foes. The archers shifted their attention to Raw Onion and began to pelt her with arrows. Her speed and agility kept her safe as she weaved in between arrows and spears. However a team of sneaky goblins had climbed the trees and sat in wait for a nasty nasty trap. The barrage of arrows forced the pegasis to fly close to the treeline and in that moment the goblins made their presence known. A large net was cast over her and she struggle to stay in the air. Raw Onion managed to steer herself back towards the ruins before crashing into the ground.
IRIS did its level best to try and avoid the heavy combat areas. In fact it managed to simply watch the fight from behind the safety of the others. The floating robot pressed as close to the ruins as possible, preferring to try and avoid the chaos of battle. Unfortunately a sneaky goblin had another idea. With a shrill battlecry the green imp leaped from the top of the ruins and came hurtling down, crashing into IRIS. The robot screeched “Do not touch me!” and shook violently to try and knock the goblin off. Unabated by IRIS’s thrashing the goblin tried to slash at the bot’s metal casing, finding a small chink in IRIS’s armor. Sparks flew as the goblin tried to pry apart the robot.
Stiel darted in between orc warrior’s taking opportunistic slashes and strikes against the clumsy brutes. He was relentless in his assault, striking down as many orcs as he could get near. Unfortunately Stiel’s attention-span got the better of him. His movements slowed as he watched Raw Onion get grounded. In his moment of innatention the forest troll had found its way over to the poor secondary. With a mighty blow the troll sent Stiel tumbling backwards, his only saving grace was his cybernetic armor.
Pinocchio froze when his nose was scraped by the point of a javelin-sized spear that would have surely taken off his head. The wooden boy dodged out of the way before he could become a shishkabob. As the spear dashed by him, a sliver of wood shot out from his nose. The wooden boy rolled out to the side and to an orc who had come in for the kill on the weakling, only to have the splinter stab the orc in the eye.
Rictoffen, in the meantime was closer to the border of tree and forestry. Upon first glance, no one was near. Upon a closer glance, an orc was behind him. He felt the creeping chill on his neck and raised a hand swiftly upward, accidentally hitting the orc square in the face, and knocking his attacker unconscious. After hearing the dense body hit the ground, the German spun around, shocked, and exclaimed his own surprise in his slurred accent, “Unz Orc?! Das right!” And pulled out his stylish pistol, ready to defend himself some more.
Zora flung them off of her one after the other, using her honed Zorojitsu techniques as guidance with every swing of motion. It seemed that all the talk of teaming up was largely an understatement, as the second arrows flew and warfare combed the area, most of the fights had become one-on-one.
Isaac was about to draw his own blood, when an orc tackled him to the ground. It snarled on top of him and went in for the killing blow. At the last second, the old veteran dodged his head and swiftly jerked upward, a jagged blade drew a crimson line on the side of his head, as the orc was thrown off of him. With only one arm it would be hard to pin the orc, who was right up on him, readying his next weapon - a long, freshly sharpened dagger - but before it could plunge into Isaac’s once-shot shoulder, a bullet fired into the orc’s skull and blood exploded everywhere on contact.
Christa winked at Isaac. “Old man, you’re getting sloppy.” It wasn’t his fault the orcs were faster than the majority of the group, the rebelled soldier smiled in reassurance and held her pistol in her grasp. Not faster than my Beretta.
Tooth shouts, “Tweet!” as she dodges an arrow.
Jan pulls out his M82 assault rifle and takes aim at the orc closest to him. The peppering shots echoed through the air as the blasting bursts take down the orc, with his stomach full of lead. Another closes in behind Jan, who dodges the spear speedily and elbows the orc, causing him to face-plant into the ground.
Grobdum charges with the blaze of five thousand warriors, plunging with his fervent might into the depths of battle. He readied his little knife and prepared to eviscerate the secondary closest to him, Urg. Intercepting his motion was Christa, who appeared from the shadows, leading with her flashy pistol in hand, and shot molten lead into his shoulder. With a howl of frustration, and to combat defeat, he attempted to scourge the girl with a ball of magic as the hot ball of liquid formed in his hand. Thrown, it flamed past her arm, singeing the burnt skin with the lick of magical flames.
A stacatto of bullets ripped forth from Christa’s rifle, tearing into the crowd of orcs. Every pull of her trigger sent another burst of hot lead into the advancing horde. She moved backwards, keeping a healthy distance away from the encroaching horde. From the crowd a goblin threw a large rock about the size of a baseball. Instinctively Christa moved to dodge the projectile, but was too slow and took a glancing blow to the forehead. This only served to enrage her and with gritted teeth she continued to fire into the green tide.
Top Man crept closer, his camera zooming in on the primitive war scene as he narrated with his best dataverse- expression that the Omniverse had stayed tuned for. "And now it appears we're comin' up on a territorial Orc tribe, it sounds like they are clashin' with another- oh, those aren't orcs!"
Before the TV personality could say more, a dart shot straight for the lens of TM's camera, and scratched it.
Meanwhile Lyra approached the group with stoically silent steps. An endangered "being" had responded too late to her call, and the archer leapt into action. With the crisp string of her bow stretching with her extended arm, she threw an arrow and heard the familiar sound "Thwum!" In her ear as a spear sliced at her forearm, in place of the stranger she had yet to know.
Bucky, the plucky B-1 droid shuffled backwards, greeting the orcs with a hail of blaster fire. A bright red fusillade of energy bolts carved into the oncoming green tide. His defective processor kicked into full gear and his robotic voice called out “Die Jedi Scum!” The insult fell on deaf ears as a particularly large orc bellowed a battlecry and chucked a brutishly large spear at the combat droid. The projectile collided with the robot’s left shoulder, forcing the clumsy droid to stumble backwards. A shower of sparks erupted from the injury and Bucky found his trusty left arm difficult to move.
The devastating echo of Mr. Clayton’s shotgun called out across the battlefield. He had taken a defensive position behind the other secondaries. The gentleman took great pleasure in what did not amount to much more than skeet shooting for him. His targets were too busy with their bloodthirsty charge to hide behind cover. Several arrows peppered the ground around him, but he took no mind to them firing once more into the crowd of greenskinned brutes. Another wave of arrows assaulted Clayton, forcing him to retreat back behind a waist-high stone wall. He did not escape unscathed, one of the arrows had found its mark along his right thigh, slicing a line of fire through his meaty flesh.
From the treeline Boer had been silently watching the commotion. The horde of orcs seemed to be endless and he wasn’t about to throw away his life trying to defend strangers. His voyeurism was interrupted by a sudden stinging sensation in his back. The beast-man whipped around to find a cackling cluster of goblins. The pernicious creatures wielded poison-tipped darts and had attempted to turn his back into a pincushion. “Why you little bastards” he bellowed, firing a rifle round into the nearest goblin. The creatures scattered into the underbrush, frightened from the imposing beast-man. Boer grunted in amusement as the skittish creatures seemingly made their escape. His joy was cut short as a hail of darts erupted from the foliage, forcing him to retreat into the clearing and subsequently into the battlefield.
Grave and Abner found themselves surrounded by a particularly vicious group of orcs. The brutes wielded all manner of crude and sinister weaponry, massive axes and bulky spears threatened the two secondaries. Grave wasted no time, firing round after round into the encroaching orcs, his relentless onslaught beat back the monstrous creatures. Abner followed Grave’s lead and fired his own pistol in between Grave’s withering gunfire. The warrior remained calm and collected, making sure each shot found its mark. The duo carved a path through the orcs and ran to rendezvous with the rest of the party. Their retreat was cut short by a barrage of poorly-aimed arrows.
An echoing roar was heard across the chaos of the battlefield. From the trees burst a massive forest troll. Its body was caked with dirt and moss and it clutched a large club in its meaty mitts. The beat roared with fury and charged forth towards the group. Klaud reacted quickly and with a flick of her wrist she wrapped her whip around the stampeding beast’s legs. The troll stumbled and fell to its knees, just barely catching itself before collapsing. Captain Crow took this opportunity to dart into the fray. With a dazzling display of speed he snaked between several orcs to strike at the troll. He slashed at the creature’s exposed sides and it roared in pain. Klaud did her best to keep the creature subdued, but with a mighty tub on her whip the troll pulled her close. The whip loosened and the troll lashed out, rushing to its feet and blindly swinging its club. The General and Captain were caught off-guard by the surprising burst of speed and both of them took a glancing blow from the club.
Meanwhile the resident zombie blindly charged towards a group of goblins. The small creatures scattered at the sight of the ravenous undead. Urg followed the closest one without hesitation, his simple mind unable to resist the allure of a chase. Eventually, with a half-hearted leap the zombie collapsed on the slippery creature. Its frightened shrieks were soon silenced by a sickening crunch as Urg began to feast. The battle raged around him, seemingly oblivious to the undead creature. When Urg’s belly was full the zombie stood up only to find that the little goblin had lodged a dagger into his chest.
Being experienced in combat against orcs Raw Onion took to the sky, knowing that they would have a hard time hitting her. She struck strategically, dive bombing key targets delivering vicious kicks to her unprepared foes. The archers shifted their attention to Raw Onion and began to pelt her with arrows. Her speed and agility kept her safe as she weaved in between arrows and spears. However a team of sneaky goblins had climbed the trees and sat in wait for a nasty nasty trap. The barrage of arrows forced the pegasis to fly close to the treeline and in that moment the goblins made their presence known. A large net was cast over her and she struggle to stay in the air. Raw Onion managed to steer herself back towards the ruins before crashing into the ground.
IRIS did its level best to try and avoid the heavy combat areas. In fact it managed to simply watch the fight from behind the safety of the others. The floating robot pressed as close to the ruins as possible, preferring to try and avoid the chaos of battle. Unfortunately a sneaky goblin had another idea. With a shrill battlecry the green imp leaped from the top of the ruins and came hurtling down, crashing into IRIS. The robot screeched “Do not touch me!” and shook violently to try and knock the goblin off. Unabated by IRIS’s thrashing the goblin tried to slash at the bot’s metal casing, finding a small chink in IRIS’s armor. Sparks flew as the goblin tried to pry apart the robot.
Stiel darted in between orc warrior’s taking opportunistic slashes and strikes against the clumsy brutes. He was relentless in his assault, striking down as many orcs as he could get near. Unfortunately Stiel’s attention-span got the better of him. His movements slowed as he watched Raw Onion get grounded. In his moment of innatention the forest troll had found its way over to the poor secondary. With a mighty blow the troll sent Stiel tumbling backwards, his only saving grace was his cybernetic armor.
Pinocchio froze when his nose was scraped by the point of a javelin-sized spear that would have surely taken off his head. The wooden boy dodged out of the way before he could become a shishkabob. As the spear dashed by him, a sliver of wood shot out from his nose. The wooden boy rolled out to the side and to an orc who had come in for the kill on the weakling, only to have the splinter stab the orc in the eye.
Rictoffen, in the meantime was closer to the border of tree and forestry. Upon first glance, no one was near. Upon a closer glance, an orc was behind him. He felt the creeping chill on his neck and raised a hand swiftly upward, accidentally hitting the orc square in the face, and knocking his attacker unconscious. After hearing the dense body hit the ground, the German spun around, shocked, and exclaimed his own surprise in his slurred accent, “Unz Orc?! Das right!” And pulled out his stylish pistol, ready to defend himself some more.
Zora flung them off of her one after the other, using her honed Zorojitsu techniques as guidance with every swing of motion. It seemed that all the talk of teaming up was largely an understatement, as the second arrows flew and warfare combed the area, most of the fights had become one-on-one.
Isaac was about to draw his own blood, when an orc tackled him to the ground. It snarled on top of him and went in for the killing blow. At the last second, the old veteran dodged his head and swiftly jerked upward, a jagged blade drew a crimson line on the side of his head, as the orc was thrown off of him. With only one arm it would be hard to pin the orc, who was right up on him, readying his next weapon - a long, freshly sharpened dagger - but before it could plunge into Isaac’s once-shot shoulder, a bullet fired into the orc’s skull and blood exploded everywhere on contact.
Christa winked at Isaac. “Old man, you’re getting sloppy.” It wasn’t his fault the orcs were faster than the majority of the group, the rebelled soldier smiled in reassurance and held her pistol in her grasp. Not faster than my Beretta.
Tooth shouts, “Tweet!” as she dodges an arrow.
Jan pulls out his M82 assault rifle and takes aim at the orc closest to him. The peppering shots echoed through the air as the blasting bursts take down the orc, with his stomach full of lead. Another closes in behind Jan, who dodges the spear speedily and elbows the orc, causing him to face-plant into the ground.
Grobdum charges with the blaze of five thousand warriors, plunging with his fervent might into the depths of battle. He readied his little knife and prepared to eviscerate the secondary closest to him, Urg. Intercepting his motion was Christa, who appeared from the shadows, leading with her flashy pistol in hand, and shot molten lead into his shoulder. With a howl of frustration, and to combat defeat, he attempted to scourge the girl with a ball of magic as the hot ball of liquid formed in his hand. Thrown, it flamed past her arm, singeing the burnt skin with the lick of magical flames.
A stacatto of bullets ripped forth from Christa’s rifle, tearing into the crowd of orcs. Every pull of her trigger sent another burst of hot lead into the advancing horde. She moved backwards, keeping a healthy distance away from the encroaching horde. From the crowd a goblin threw a large rock about the size of a baseball. Instinctively Christa moved to dodge the projectile, but was too slow and took a glancing blow to the forehead. This only served to enrage her and with gritted teeth she continued to fire into the green tide.
Top Man crept closer, his camera zooming in on the primitive war scene as he narrated with his best dataverse- expression that the Omniverse had stayed tuned for. "And now it appears we're comin' up on a territorial Orc tribe, it sounds like they are clashin' with another- oh, those aren't orcs!"
Before the TV personality could say more, a dart shot straight for the lens of TM's camera, and scratched it.
Meanwhile Lyra approached the group with stoically silent steps. An endangered "being" had responded too late to her call, and the archer leapt into action. With the crisp string of her bow stretching with her extended arm, she threw an arrow and heard the familiar sound "Thwum!" In her ear as a spear sliced at her forearm, in place of the stranger she had yet to know.
Quote:[spoiler]Bucky has an injured left arm. The arm can still function, but it responds slower and even clumsier than usual. Moderate injury.
Clayton has a minor gash on his right thigh. Minor Injury.
Boer’s body is covered in poisoned darts, if it wasn’t for his natural resistance to disease and poison he would be in rough shape. Minor Injury
Grave has several minor lacerations across his body. Minor injury
Abner has several minor lacerations across his body. Minor Injury
Klaud is bruised and beaten, but still able to fight. Minor Injury
Crow is bruised and battered, but still able to fight. Minor Injury
Urg has a dagger lodged in his chest, a minor inconvenience for the undead. Minor Injury
Raw Onion has a few scrapes and bruises, she is also covered by a loose net. Minor Injury
IRIS has a goblin grabbing it and has a nasty stab wound from its dagger. Moderate Injury
Stiel’s ribs are bruised and the wind is knocked out of him. Minor Injury
Christa has a killer headache and a small gash on her forehead. Minor Injury
Pinocchio has a paper-cut/scrape on the top of his nose. Minor Injury
Zora is uninjured after dealin’ some kick-ass blows to the orc invaders.
Isaac is missing a lock of his hair. Poor Isaac. Minor Injury
Rictoffen has a scrape on his left arm, acquired epically. Minor Injury
Tooth gets an arial view of the area, giving her an advantage. Minor Injury + influence with group
Jan receives a tiny slash on his arm. Minor Injury
Those who have posted late have been dealt minor injuries, however they have not been disqualified because they gave me a HUGE warning ahead of time. Next time I may not be so lenient but we all have extenuating circumstances at some point. Thank you everyone.
Grobdum has sustained a bullet wound from Christa. Moderate Injury
Lyra got scraped by an arrow. Minor injury.
Top Man's camera lens got scratched. Minor injury.
Overall, I’m amazed at how well everyone has written so far. My expectations for next round = YES.
For the next round, feel free to do a dynamic/group setting battle scene, show us what you got. I have some good expectations for this battle scene. People may die, fight fo’ your life.
And remember, we will be looking at quality, and the time you will have to post will be shorter. If you have the choice to post three small/speedy ones and one large, very eloquently written, I personally would promote the larger one with better quality. You’ll get a better score and will be more prone to surviving.[/spoiler]