11-09-2015, 05:27 PM
Well. Shit. Stephan was mad. I mean… Seriously? First the little shit talks back, like he owns the place, then his bodyguards show up, then he has to drop off a box of perfectly good cargo for a dent in a crappy pavement AND THEN this girly little shit…
Barely keeping his footing on treacherous sands below Captain stepped back from dashing Victor, swinging his sabre in front of him, just as the blonde tried to exploit the opening left by the flash.
…shows up and trashes his ride AND AFTER THAT THIS UNSHAVEN FUCK...
Slight pause in Victors attack was enough for Donnel to grab onto the rope with his free arm and yank it, while simultaneously taking another step back, with such force that it had snapped almost square in the middle, causing, Cormac this time, to tumble forward.
…only to START TALKING SHIT.
Pretty much as soon as the rest of the “peacemakers” reached melee it resolved into complete mess. The blonde blidgebiter was swinging his shivs around, jumping back almost every time he tried attacking. “Almost” because he tried to parry Stephans strike once, and barely managed to hold on to his dagger.
Erik held back for a moment, as jumping straight into the fray while you can throw some psyhiky stuff first isn’t the best idea. Shay had no such reservations, as his ranged potential was quite hindered with all those allies and only one enemy. Doing this. Exact. Thing. You know the one. The one where you run towards and not away from the person you just pissed off by pushing all the wrong buttons. Yes, that was definitely not a good idea.
I don’t know what Cormac was expecting, but that sure as rustles of Rustling Jimmy Rustles wasn’t a handful of sand that was sent toward his face by the heavy boot of the Captain. This could have been the end of Shay, as the barrage of blind strikes wouldn’t even slow Stephan down and he was quite ready to let Wolfe get a stab on him to off this smartass.
But at this moment, Erik finally came into play. A purplish ring, tinted in gold along the edges buy the desert sun, came into view, only to crash itself into Captains head with a hushed hiss. Charred remains of the hat sunk into the sand from the drop and Donnel tumbled a couple of steps sideways.
As he regained footing, Victor didn’t waste his chance and took his clear shot for Stephans exposed back. Several sharp flashes of pain and what was likely most of Victors mass caused Donnel to, once again, stagger forward, but it seems blondie made a usual mistake of aiming for the heart, which has, for quite some time now, lain rotten in a ditch somewhere far-far-far away. Due to the stunning revelation of his target having no immediately vulnerable internal organs all the damage done by this “lucky” strike boiled down to a long gash of torn cloth along the whole left part of Captains back and a dent in the armoured plating beneath.
All this time a skinny teenager, who Stephan at that very moment believed to be the culprit of all his problems, hanged out behind letting his mooks do all the job. Or at least it seemed so. Between knocking several more strange floating discus away from his face and trying to finally get a solid strike at the red-caped bastard Donnel didn’t really have time to look.
A completely unexpected thought came to his rage-clouded mind for a moment. He could probably take any of those four in a fair fight and triumph. Blazes, probably two at once weren’t exactly bad odds. Before this, actually somewhat reasonable, line of thought could continue thou, the oldest, and at this point the most foul-mouthed of the bunch decided that it was time to end this fight and performed a risqué manoeuvre.
Swiftly changing his sidearm for a thrown one the turncoat used that to distract his opponent. If you could call “throwing a knife into ones eye” “distracting”. But luckily for Stephan at almost the same moment Victor tried to put his “stab” on again and what little movement it provoked was enough for the dagger to slide almost harmlessly off his armoured left temple.
Cormac still went along with his plan, gripping his sword with both arms and delivering several brutal overhead smashes that were, of course, blocked, if with some effort, by a steam-belching appendage raised overhead. Which was just what Shay wanted. Turncoat took a swift step forward and underneath the metallic arch and delivered a lightning-fast strike to the throat of his opponent with a blade that suddenly came out of his bracer.
Well, what can I say? A steam powered eye has to get that steam somewhere. And in this case it was GMD. Which was where the heart should be. The most efficient way to transfer steam is a pipe, I stand correct here, no arguing. And that exact pipe was going right along the natural one, also known as “wind” pipe. And just as Cormac was already anticipating the final gurgle of this unexpectedly resilient enemy he felt that his blade slid along and off its target, leaving only a deep scratch on the neck and chest and causing quite a bit of dirty, almost brown blood to spill out.
Once again, this could have been the end of Shay Cormac, as deadly appendage still hanging overhead began its short decent, but at this moment the kid in the back suddenly called everyone off. Obeying on a reflex more than anything the still perplexed turncoat felt a sharp hiss pass by his, now scalded, ear and could only watch, with a grin slowly creeping onto his face, as the Kings Hand descended upon the troublemaker, who met this new danger by a straight-on saber strike, like a blow of literal lightning.
Barely keeping his footing on treacherous sands below Captain stepped back from dashing Victor, swinging his sabre in front of him, just as the blonde tried to exploit the opening left by the flash.
…shows up and trashes his ride AND AFTER THAT THIS UNSHAVEN FUCK...
Slight pause in Victors attack was enough for Donnel to grab onto the rope with his free arm and yank it, while simultaneously taking another step back, with such force that it had snapped almost square in the middle, causing, Cormac this time, to tumble forward.
…only to START TALKING SHIT.
Pretty much as soon as the rest of the “peacemakers” reached melee it resolved into complete mess. The blonde blidgebiter was swinging his shivs around, jumping back almost every time he tried attacking. “Almost” because he tried to parry Stephans strike once, and barely managed to hold on to his dagger.
Erik held back for a moment, as jumping straight into the fray while you can throw some psyhiky stuff first isn’t the best idea. Shay had no such reservations, as his ranged potential was quite hindered with all those allies and only one enemy. Doing this. Exact. Thing. You know the one. The one where you run towards and not away from the person you just pissed off by pushing all the wrong buttons. Yes, that was definitely not a good idea.
I don’t know what Cormac was expecting, but that sure as rustles of Rustling Jimmy Rustles wasn’t a handful of sand that was sent toward his face by the heavy boot of the Captain. This could have been the end of Shay, as the barrage of blind strikes wouldn’t even slow Stephan down and he was quite ready to let Wolfe get a stab on him to off this smartass.
But at this moment, Erik finally came into play. A purplish ring, tinted in gold along the edges buy the desert sun, came into view, only to crash itself into Captains head with a hushed hiss. Charred remains of the hat sunk into the sand from the drop and Donnel tumbled a couple of steps sideways.
As he regained footing, Victor didn’t waste his chance and took his clear shot for Stephans exposed back. Several sharp flashes of pain and what was likely most of Victors mass caused Donnel to, once again, stagger forward, but it seems blondie made a usual mistake of aiming for the heart, which has, for quite some time now, lain rotten in a ditch somewhere far-far-far away. Due to the stunning revelation of his target having no immediately vulnerable internal organs all the damage done by this “lucky” strike boiled down to a long gash of torn cloth along the whole left part of Captains back and a dent in the armoured plating beneath.
All this time a skinny teenager, who Stephan at that very moment believed to be the culprit of all his problems, hanged out behind letting his mooks do all the job. Or at least it seemed so. Between knocking several more strange floating discus away from his face and trying to finally get a solid strike at the red-caped bastard Donnel didn’t really have time to look.
A completely unexpected thought came to his rage-clouded mind for a moment. He could probably take any of those four in a fair fight and triumph. Blazes, probably two at once weren’t exactly bad odds. Before this, actually somewhat reasonable, line of thought could continue thou, the oldest, and at this point the most foul-mouthed of the bunch decided that it was time to end this fight and performed a risqué manoeuvre.
Swiftly changing his sidearm for a thrown one the turncoat used that to distract his opponent. If you could call “throwing a knife into ones eye” “distracting”. But luckily for Stephan at almost the same moment Victor tried to put his “stab” on again and what little movement it provoked was enough for the dagger to slide almost harmlessly off his armoured left temple.
Cormac still went along with his plan, gripping his sword with both arms and delivering several brutal overhead smashes that were, of course, blocked, if with some effort, by a steam-belching appendage raised overhead. Which was just what Shay wanted. Turncoat took a swift step forward and underneath the metallic arch and delivered a lightning-fast strike to the throat of his opponent with a blade that suddenly came out of his bracer.
Well, what can I say? A steam powered eye has to get that steam somewhere. And in this case it was GMD. Which was where the heart should be. The most efficient way to transfer steam is a pipe, I stand correct here, no arguing. And that exact pipe was going right along the natural one, also known as “wind” pipe. And just as Cormac was already anticipating the final gurgle of this unexpectedly resilient enemy he felt that his blade slid along and off its target, leaving only a deep scratch on the neck and chest and causing quite a bit of dirty, almost brown blood to spill out.
Once again, this could have been the end of Shay Cormac, as deadly appendage still hanging overhead began its short decent, but at this moment the kid in the back suddenly called everyone off. Obeying on a reflex more than anything the still perplexed turncoat felt a sharp hiss pass by his, now scalded, ear and could only watch, with a grin slowly creeping onto his face, as the Kings Hand descended upon the troublemaker, who met this new danger by a straight-on saber strike, like a blow of literal lightning.
Quote:[spoiler]992 words before adding forum editing (italics and stuff), according to Word word counter[/spoiler]
![[Image: wzGKapL.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/wzGKapL.jpg)