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Post by Callahan on Jul 10, 2009 23:30:29 GMT -5
Thread continues here: Viscious CircleMorning. Finally. His armour was polished. It was immaculate. Sword and shield in his hands, the Orcs not far from them now. He couldn't see them, but he could smell them. Not literally, of course. They were unwashed, disgusting savages, but the stench they left behind was scarred lands and people. He marched near the front of the unit, glad to finally see some action. The only other officers here were a Knight and a Field Marshal. He was glad he'd given the rest the slip back in Stormwind. Stood there in the military headquarters debating whether to attack north or south, or to split, whether to split 50-50 or 49-51. It made him sick, it really did. But they meant well, they were just not as experienced as he was. Which is probably why he knew he could get away with what he was doing at the moment. The Night Elves hadn't managed to get their emissaries there yet. The Dwarves and Gnomes had only arrived that night, if his estimates were right, and wouldn't be ready at this time of morning. Plenty of time for him to pursue to stories of the only survivor from Goldshire. Well, he was a survivor until he died in the Stormwind streets. His story passed to soldier, soldier to messenger, messenger to council, council to... well, not to him. The plights of a few girls would have been nothing he should have been concerned about. Not in the council's eyes. But it was in his eyes. He hadn't killed an Orc in years. Hadn't fought properly or led from the front since before he could remember. His men were hardly trained, and the Orcs were overconfident. He would show them. The Orcs would be put in their place, put down. Rescue the citizens, reclaim their lands, reform the armies, and maybe one day take back Lordaeron. His eyes glimmered a little, remembering all too well that day he had been forced to flee from the city. Endless hordes assailing it. Arthas, that damned prince. Marching up the top of the hill, he paused, surveying the lands beneath. The Orcs were encamped against a cliff face, some of them inside the cave, the rest out front. No sentry. "Idiots." he murmured. No sign of the women. That was, however, until he heard a scream from the cave. They'd found their bandits. Not that the tracks had been concealed particularly well. Or at all. In fact the Orcs would have made themselves harder to follow if they had left signposts. At least then he would have been suspicious of a bluff. Greenskins were truly dense. He turned, his men there. He had less than a hundred with him, and few archers. The Orcs down there probably numbered around 60. It wouldn't be easy. He raised his sword, trying to inspire some confidence in them as he directed the blade edge at their horn bearer. A fine blast from the horn, a loud note to send them into battle. He lead them over the edge, the Orcs looking up to glare at them before charging towards them. More emerged from the cave, but he cared little, running down the hill, savouring the high ground as he brought a cleave down onto an Orc's skull, slicing the head to either side of his blade. Oh, how he had missed this!
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Post by Narisha on Jul 11, 2009 0:11:04 GMT -5
Morning... well if you could call it morning from the inside of a cave.
Nari sighed and flexed her fingers, trying to get the blood circulating in them again when some poor girl let out an exhausted scream. Tears welled up in her eyes again, this was so unfair... So completely unfair. The only positives were that her two friends were still laying there on the cave floor with her. The three of them could help at least a little.
Her prayers were answered when, with a loud noisy Orcish shout one of the sentries came running into the cave gesturing wildly to those inside. With raucous laughter, many of the disgusting creatures rose to their feet and grabbed their weapons making their way out of the cave. It was perfect. Only a few remained to guard the girls and nudging the one laying closest to her, Nari gestured to her to turn so they could untie one another hands. Finally freed, she turned to the other Warlock and released her as well.
Huddled together on the floor, they made a quick plan of action. Nari's polymorph ability would be critical in distracting the Orcs left to guard them. She would change them all and let the other two girls kill them as their abilities as Warlocks were more developed than hers. Nodding to one another, Nari stood and quickly changed the nearest Orc into and adorably confused little lamb. Startled the little thing gave a bleat and scooted for the nearest exit as she turned and changed another who was engaging the other two girls, into a penguin, giggling as he waddled for the exit as well.
Soon the cave was an eruption of spells and animals. Quite the mess, and Nari laughed herself silly at the expressions on the faces of the Orcs, as they changed back from whatever animal only to be hit in the face with a spell from one of the other Warlocks or turned into something new.
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Post by Callahan on Jul 11, 2009 0:28:43 GMT -5
Blood pumping, adrenaline surging, this is what he should have been doing, not being trapped inside cities drinking himself into stupors and being forced into giving battle strategies from behind desks. He was a warrior. A strategiest, yes, with probably more experience than anyone else at dealing with Orcs, but a warrior nonetheless. And nothing showed that more than right now as he cleaved through another Orc, slicing his weapon hand off, it snarling at him ferociously, before he delivered a brutal smash to its face with his spiked shield, impaling it in several places.
More Orcs from the cave. He let loose a roar, spurring on his men as he fought towards the cave entrance. Their blood red eyes flaming towards him from the darkness. He lunged, thrusting through one in the chest, though that didn't stop it. The second stab in its back did though, and he turned, bringing his shield around, massive momentum allowing it to smash into the next Orc running up behind him,sending its legs running out from underneath it, and its body falling to the floor with a crunch. Sword embedded into guts, moving forward to the next one. It threw an axe at him, which he blocked with the shield, and then another. He parried it, barely, with his sword, hearing it clang from the wall of the cave, before flinging his sword at the beast and getting it in the neck.
Stepping forward quickly to reclaim his sword, he came upon a... sheep? He let the poor animal go, not knowing what tortures the beasts had exacted upon the animal, moving further in, rounding a corner and ducking the swing of a massive axe - not wanting a haircut that badly at the moment. He recovered, striking his sword into the beasts shoulder, cutting a large gash, then taking its head off with another swing. His muscles ached, but his mind told them it wasn't from overuse. It was from lack of use. He needed to stretch them, to kill more Orcs, to get the feeling back into them. Round the corner he heard another brutish yell, moving swiftly, sword above his shoulder ready to deliver the fatal blow to the unlucky greenskin around the other side of the cave wall.
He spotted the body in the dim light, flames flickering, his sword about to slice through skin. Pale... white skin. The long, blonde hair. The beautiful blue eyes as they turned to face him in fear, wide with fright. The blade hovering there, ready to strike, but every ounce of muscle in his body holding him back. The girl, tiny before his form, familiar to him and yet he'd never seen her before. Unmoving he softened his features, almost instinctively, his sword slowly falling to rest by his side. "You." The words slipped from his mouth of their own accord. You? He had never met her, why was he talking as though he had been in contact with this beautiful angel before?
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Post by Narisha on Jul 11, 2009 1:10:19 GMT -5
You...
The one word coming from his mouth stopped her in her tracks, her hand poised to turn him into something as well. It was only that one word that distinguished him from the chaos in the cave. As he lowered his sword she caught sight of a movement behind him, jarring her back into reality and shouted
"Move you idiot..."
Running the few steps it took to stand at his side, she quickly attempted to change the Orc behind him into a sheep... She paused... It didn't work. Then she tried a penguin. That one drew the Orcs attention. Cursing, she tried to fight him back, her eyes taking in his clothing.
"Damned Shaman... DIE!"
There was too much going on, she was too distracted. The girls needed her help, they were beginning to be overrun. And her mind just kept turning his voice over and over.
You.... You... You... You...
It was distracting her so she couldn't fight. A frustrated shriek came from her as she cast two curses on the shaman and frustrated beyond sense summoned a voidwalker and a succubus to help the other two girls. It was that that was a mistake. Her attention fell from the Shaman and towards her companions as she struggled to help them. In the time her mind was elsewhere the shaman used his totems to regain his health and in true cowardly Orc fashion, struck her in the back with a bolt of lightning.
The blow sent her to her knees with a cry, all her magics dying out.
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Post by Callahan on Jul 11, 2009 1:30:19 GMT -5
"NO!"
The roar echoed around the cave, causing at least one Orc to divert its attention to look at the source. The source, he found in surprise, to be himself, an uninhibited rage pouring out of him as he watched the body of the girl twitch as sparks jumped across her body, but otherwise lifeless. His sword, his shield, his muscles, once feeling so heavy, were now on fire. They burned for revenge. Revenge for the young girl who had caused him to pause, a shock that had left him vulnerable to the shaman behind him. The one she had tried to protect him from, and who had struck her down. And the Orcs would soon make a similar fate rush to meet those other girls across the room. He gripped his sword strongly, enough to choke a wolf, marching himself past her body and smashing his sword through an Orc's back.
The others turned to face him, trying to gang up. No such look. Their blows were blocked, parried, and even when one did manage to strike, partially glancing from the armour, it just caused him to fight more zealously. He thrust the sword through skulls, sliced off entire arms and legs, smashed the spiked shield into the sides of heads. His rage blinded him to all but the imminent deaths of the Orcs at hand. Their green skin and red blood a mixture in his mind as he continued to hack and slash relentlessly.
Then he felt it. The electrical surge coarsing through his body as the shaman struck him from behind, sending sparks up his arms, through his organs and around his mouth. He roared again, dropping to a knee in agony, allowing one of the few remaining Orcs to bring a heavy axe chop down onto his shoulder. He didn't know if it interrupted the spell, or if it was finished, or what had happened, but the strike seemed to help him. Made the electricity seem more bearable. The pain in his shoulder, however, now bloodied, was something else, and he backhanded the Orc with his plated fist, a crunching noise echoing before he drove his sword through it. He turned, running his blade through a final one's stomach, before the shaman attacked again.
He felt like he'd been hit by a rock, the force shattering his concentration on the shaman as he staggered backwards from the hit, almost losing grip of his sword and shield at once, steadying himself and pausing, coughing and spitting some blood from his mouth, his breaths shallower and laboured, before charging towards the beast, who was performing his next electrical attack. The bolt of lightning surged from his hands as Val moved in, just feet away from him, absorbing the full shock before swinging his sword down in an angry yell, the electricity passing somewhat back into the shaman, who growled too, as he proceeded to hack into the body of the Orc.
Stabbing and cutting the beast that had attacked the young girl, the Grand Marshal lost himself in those seconds of emotion, his vision set only on the gruesome face of the Orc who stared blankly, hideously back at him, immune to his attacks, causing him to fight harder until he snapped out of it. His muscles ached, and the Orc's body lied in many pieces, his armour bloodied in a great amount from the one shaman. His sword dripped, feeling a burden his hands, and his shield weighed down his arm. Breathing a little deeper, he stood over his foe, taking in those last few minutes of mindless killing, before slumping to his knees in exhaustion.
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Post by Narisha on Jul 11, 2009 2:25:49 GMT -5
Slowly, painful, muscles spasming and cramping Nari returned to consciousness. Whimpering she pulled herself to her feet and watched as the man she knew was the Grand Marshal hacked the shaman into little pieces. Her head hurt as she looked around the cave to see it littered with Orc bodies.
A sigh of relief left her and she sagged against the cave wall pressing a hand to her forehead. The sound of his breathing and the clank of his armor brought her attention back to the Grand Marshal. She took in his appearance and sighed to herself in frustration. Yes, yes she would admit it, silently and only to herself, that she had been hoping he would charge in and rescue them like some sort of white knight. Not that she'd have been unhappy if someone else rescued them, but she supposed she would have been a bit disappointed.
All that aside however, he was not supposed to end up that injured. His shoulder looked to her as though a good movement would send the arm just flying off. Sparks were still shooting off his armor, she could only imagine how many times the shaman had hit him.
Her attention was drawn to her two companions. They were helping the girls who had been taken by the Orcs in the night make their way out of the caves. She could hear as some of them sobbed in relief at seeing Alliance men outside. And smiled at the men's exclamations sure that many of them were being carried of by their own "knights in shining armor". A sigh escaped her and she made her way to his side.
"You are a mess Grand Marshal..." Her hand brushed across his cheek and her fingers ran under his chin, gently tilting his head back to look at her. "We should get you back to Stormwind."
She sighed internally again. Much as she hated it Don't lie to yourself Nari she was honor bound to serve him. Now she would just have to figure out how to do it without him finding out that's what she was doing. If he figured out or remembered who she was, well, judging by their last encounter she may be hard-pressed to stay away from him. On the plus side though, it meant she could take any and all opportunities to remove him from his beer.
Her eyes fell on the dead shaman's remains and she suddenly became horribly angry.
"Actually, we can leave in a moment..."
Stepping on the remains, she began stomping on them with her feet, every curse word she knew flying from her as she ground him into the dust.
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Post by Callahan on Jul 11, 2009 3:27:11 GMT -5
How long had he stared at the ground now? He had no idea. His sense of time was all awry. One minute felt like an hour, the next felt almost instantaneous. If they were minutes, that was. He couldn't tell, between the pains in his arms, his back, his shoulder, and possibly most of all his head. Arms and back were understandable. He'd killed 10 Orcs today, easy. And that was no mean feat to be able to kill brutes of their size. He respected them as enemies, but not as living beings. They could kill, but little else. Except maybe cause him massive amounts of pain. Pain without death. Sadistic bastards. He made a motion to try and stand, but found that he failed to move, cursing himself.
It was then that he felt her smooth skin on her face, stroking delicately along his tired, rough skin like some sort of Goddess. He still couldn't remember how he knew this girl, where she was from, or anything, but he knew that she meant a lot to him, and she seemed to feel the same. "You are a mess Grand Marshal..." The tone in her voice was a mixture of sympathy and concern. He wanted to move further into her touch, to feel her on him more. It felt pleasant, almost heavenly, but as he shifted even slightly he felt unbalanced. as though ready to fall into the ground, and so maintained himself, even as her fingers curled around his chin and tilted his tired eyes to stare at her perfect face. "We should get you back to Stormwind." He didn't even try to not, letting his head fall back down to face the ground.
"Actually, we can leave in a moment..." His eyes traced the sound she made towards the shaman's corpse, followed by a series of stamping and angry hisses. He would have grinned, but he needed to get up first. He embedded his sword's blade into the ground, using it to press up from the ground. Somewhat steady, he fell to lean against the wall, looking around and noticing they were the only ones there. The women in the cave had all evacuated outside to the safety of the soldiers, though the young woman he was still with seemed oblivious. He sheathed his sword with a bit of an effort, using his free hand to slowly shift himself toward the girl, placing an arm around her waist, softly guiding her away from the scattered remains of the Shaman.
"Come on, let's get out of here." He smelt... he wasn't sure what he smelt. Whatever it was, his adrenaline wasn't masking it anymore. He coughed again, spitting a little more blood out as he slowly paced with her, arm still around her waist as they made their way towards the sunlight. He blinked, shying away from the glare as they emerged into the scene of the afterbattle. A few dozen soldiers remained, Orc bodies scattered around, but humans littering the ground too. His heart fell a little. The bridge. That damned bridge came back into his mind. The men who had fallen, who shouldn't have fallen. He sighed, audibly and painfully. If he had a decent sized force he would have been able to take out the Orcs without losing a single man. But no, he'd had to get a patrol of men moving between areas. Take over their command, lead them here.
The Orcs would trouble the people no longer. Women were safe. But he wasn't happy with the outcome however he looked at it. He continued moving away from the cave, not surrendering the gorgeous girl on his arm. Not yet. Not until he had answers. The Field Marshal approached him, beginning to report and list from the battle. "Later, Hobby, I need to ask a few things first." The man nodded, stepping aside to see to the men as Val slowly turned to the girl, looking her into her pretty eyes. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
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Post by Narisha on Jul 11, 2009 4:09:08 GMT -5
She hadn't heard him speak at all. Hadn't heard as he'd helped himself to his feet. Hadn't heard him lean against the wall. She was absorbed in destroying the only thing she could identify as a cause for her terror over the past day. True, he hadn't been the only one, but he had attacked her, hurt her, and so the shamans remains were going to feel the wrath she carried for the entirety of his race.
And then he touched her and the world stop. She could swear it did. She would have argued and tried to continue but he was so gentle, so unlike their last bit of contact. It made her world stop turning. Stopped her heart beating and for a split second she hated it. She was stronger than this. But when he pulled her away and began walking out of the cave, leaving his hand around her waist she began to wonder if she were the one who was craving the contact as she had originally thought.
They made it into the sunshine and she flinched away, closing her eyes and waiting a few moments till they adjusted. He fell completely still, his hand tighten around her waist almost painfully. Nari's eyes shot up to his face. He seemed a million miles away and not in a happy place. She nodded to herself. Though she was sure at times it would be more a bother than he was worth, she was right to dedicate herself to taking care of him. He'd risked his life and been harmed for her. She owed it to him.
She allowed her hand to briefly touch his, soothingly, and was relieved when he began moving again. He led them to an official looking sort of soldier, to whom she gave an amused look as he began to break the battle down into numbers and statistics.
So typical of that type...
He turned to her and she looked up at him quizzically. A wry grin popped onto her face at his question. Did he know her. Not at all, though they had certainly had more than their fair share of encounters.
"I'm sure you've seen me around sir. I know I've seen you. Stormwind is a large city, but not so large we don't all know who the Grand Marshal is. And certainly we've spoken. I've been known to deliver communications from the city Warlocks to the military on occasion. Though tracking you down is always a bit of a challenge." She made a small laugh and looked away from him. "Though I suppose if I just started in the Pig and Whistle I could find you right out every time I needed to deliver something."
She paused and her eyes widened as what she said suddenly hit her. A blush began to climb her cheeks and she moved to step away from him, quickly turning to a soldier and ordering him to bring some medical supplies or a doctor for the Grand Marshal.
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Post by Callahan on Jul 11, 2009 4:30:04 GMT -5
The Pig and Whistle? That damned place. Closest tavern to the headquarters, easiest place to drown his sorrows. She pulled away eventually leaving him there along, wanting to beat something, even himself, for being such a coward and running to drink so solve his problems. His only escape from the anger he felt towards himself, festering day by day for allowing himself to fall as his rank rose. He scowled as though looking in a mirror, feeling the creases on his face form as he did so. Maybe one day he would be able to get past the loss he had suffered. He knew sometimes death was necessary, unavoidable, but not when he was the only damn one left standing. Not when he was left to bear the burdens of all those dead souls, without being granted peace himself. The doctor finally arrived, beginning to apply herbs and bandages, and he suddenly realised what other things she had said.
She was running errands for the Warlocks? Then she must be one of them. Curious, she didn't seem the sort for sadistic spellcasting and dark magics. She seemed almost too pure. There must have been something bad in her life that had turned her away from the lighter path. Either that or she was very deceptive. Beautiful nonetheless. He waved away the doctor as he finished, Hobby quickly taking his place now, giving no reprieve from duty. "Orcs all dead, 37 casualties on our side." He reported briefly. Val sighed, before asking, knowing he wasn't looking forward to these statistics. "Orcs dead? Villagers saved?" Hobby paused, thinking a moment, his blonde hair almost blowing into his face. "73 Orcs, 14 villagers." Val did the math, coming to the conclusion that on a purely profit-based evaluation, they had lost.
Dead Orcs and rescued villagers were always a good thing though. Orcs will raid and pillage over and over until stopped, and stopped they were. He nodded at Hobby, who took his leave and went to sit by a few of the other men who were gathered around a fire having something to eat. Val suddenly felt rather hungry, but dismissed it. His job was to lead, not to eat. And the way he had been acting around that woman was hardly the behaviour he should have been exhibiting. Especially if she already knew him well enough to have looked for him in taverns. He groaned a little at his own weaknesses. Pathetic enough to fall for pretty girls at bad moments, and face his problems with kegs of mead. If only his 'proud' parents could see him now.
He dismissed the thought, not wanting to ruin their memory, picking himself up again and looking around. The villagers were safe, some mingling with soldiers. The men were content and apparently not totally disheartened by the loss of good lives. The only one out of touch in this picture was him, and he knew it. He blinked wearily, striding a few steps away and stretching his legs, which were starting to grow stiff. His arms were already nearly too far gone, and he half expected to hear a wonderful argument about his behaviour when he got back. Of course, not that anyone would take action against him. Any other proper soldier was dead by now. Few actual ones remained. His War Council was lead mainly by him. He was pretty much running the whole thing at the moment.
He stared out across the hills, wishing that he could be back in Stormwind and at a table with a nice meal in front of him. He glanced back, finding the girl almost immediately with his eyes. Yes, her there too. But no, there'd be no meal for him when he got back. Some cheers, many upset mothers and wives and children, a long debriefing, an even longer debate with his council, and then maybe he'd fall asleep in a bar somewhere. He rubbed the side of his face, partly wishing someone else would take this burden from him. But no one else could. And he wouldn't force it on anyone else. He'd live as their leader, and die as their leader, until someone was better than him. That was the way of things. Resigning himself to no rest, he turned back around, getting the men ready for the long march back to Stormwind.
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Post by Narisha on Jul 11, 2009 5:14:41 GMT -5
She frowned at him, watching as he stretched. Stupid man. The longer she was around him the more positive she became that the right decision was to stick with him and take care of him. He hadn't seemed to recognize her after her slip up and for that she was grateful.
When he waved the doctor away she almost spoke up and told him not to be an ass, but refrained. However, he was not leaving this camp without eating something and drinking a bit of water. Electrocution was bad for the body and he needed to replenish himself. She sighed in frustration and made her way to his side, gently placing a hand on his forearm and tugging gently to turn him in her direction.
"I realize it's hardly my place as the unfortunate rescued, but you need to eat. And you need to let the doctor finish tending your wounds. It wouldn't do for you to get an infection on the way back to Stormwind."
Gently pulling him away, she found a stump and motioned to it.
"Sit."
With a sigh she waved her hands and conjured a loaf of plain and a loaf of rye bread handing both to him.
"I'm not sure which you prefer and my Mage skills are rather lacking..."
With another sigh she conjured up a skin of purified water and handed that to him as well.
"Eat and drink. I won't let you move from here until you have refreshed yourself and had the doctor see to your wounds."
She waited for him to begin eating and let her eyes wander the area. He had lost a good number of men. A frown crossed her face, and with that he would probably try to visit the tavern upon his return. Grimacing she sighed internally. Well, that meant that as soon as she found something to wear she would be stopping by his office to make sure he went straight home after finishing whatever he probably had to finish.
A muscle in her arm cramped and she groaned rubbing it firmly. That damned shaman. She'd be twitching like some sort of... wait... Nari paused in her thoughts and nearly smacked herself in the forehead at her retarded forgetfulness. She was a Warlock. Quickly waving her hands and giving a short incantation she summoned her succubus. When the being materialized she handed it the cramped arm with one word for a command.
"Massage..."
She nearly moaned in delight as the demons' hands worked on her arm. As the muscles in her arms relaxed she became more aware of the way other things ached. Her eyes closed and she winced as her head fell forward. Sometimes there were benefits to nearly selling your soul to hell.
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Post by Callahan on Jul 11, 2009 11:59:31 GMT -5
She was forceful. In a good way, but he really didn't want to have to delay his army movements with more fuss over himself. She ordered him down and he didn't have the heart to say no. He placed himself on a rock, wanting to be able to get up easily when he needed to, almost laughing at how they were at eye level when he sat down. He rubbed an eye with the palm of his hand, not tired but feeling the fatigue setting in, watching with sudden curious interest as she conjured up a few pieces of bread and some water. He wasn't used to magic, and stared disbelieving as she pulled these things out of thin air, giving her thanks and taking them from her, not complaining about bread types. He was a soldier, he got what he was given. He took the pouch of water too, wondering if she could pull him up a pint of Thunderbrew while she was at it.
"Thanks." He said, not sure whether she was doing him a favour or not by sitting there. He sniffed the bread before taking a bite out of it, and did the same with the canteen. Just because they looked like it didn't mean he was going to assume they were. Something could have gone wrong... or right, depending on her intentions. She certainly was tenacious. She didn't move an inch until he started to eat into the bread, and he only did it because he was worried that the lack of movement could cause her to break in half or something. He'd seen enough bodies in half today. He wasn't really in the mood to see another. Least of all her's.
The doctor finally arrived back to see him again, already finished with a loaf of her bread and feeling better because of it. He glanced up at her as the doctor started inspecting his shoulder, removing some of the armour to get in deeper and look around. "This might hurt a little." He said, brandishing a piece of metal. Val rolled his eyes, not knowing a time when it didnt. It was uncomfortable going in, and down-right agony as he pulled it out, a piece of metal attached to it. He dropped the shard into Val's palm, and he rolled it through his fingers staring at it as the doctor continued to check for any other pieces. "Part of an axe blade. Typical." The doctor smiled, agreeing and pulling out some wire and a needle, telling him to take a deep breath. Val did, used to this sort of stuff by now, as he threaded together the wound. It stung, but he felt better, and had the doctor replace his armour after applying a patch over the top.
"Kind of don't want an exposed shoulder if we get ambushed." He replied to the doctor's concerned face, smiling as he moved off, returning his gaze to the girl, but finding she's moved further away by now, a demon by her side slowly massaging her. The scene was interesting by any means, and certainly unexpected. He watched for a long moment, almost longing to be somewhere in the scene, before shaking himself and looking down into his armoured hands a little, embarassed at the thought and taking a bits of the rye loaf to distract him. He was a Grand Marshal. He didn't have time for romancing, he was supposed to be leading the armies to reclaim territories. He groaned at himself, feeling the urge to punch himself for wasting time coming out here. Maybe he was too eager to get back to the fight.
He exhaled, standing now as the men began to fall into position before him, some obvious gaps appearing almost immediately and requiring they move to fill them. Behind the group he could see a few men setting fire to the bodies, the armour removed from the Orcs for use, but left on their soldiers to commemorate their service. They couldn't bury them. Not after the undead started ressurecting corpses from the ground. Burning was the only way of saving them the trouble of having to kill them over and over again. He sighed sadly as the two piles burned individually, smoke rising into the air as the men fell into rank behind the rest of the others, the villagers standing next to the formation, ready to move too. It would be a steady pace, not wanting to tax the weary women or tired men, and so wordlessly he turned, walking heavily back toward Stormwind.
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Post by Narisha on Jul 11, 2009 14:26:33 GMT -5
She sighed, rolling her head once again to try and rid herself of the damned headache, but the achey-ness and cramping of her muscles just wouldn't let her head alone. And it made everything sound a million times louder than it should have. The clank of armor suddenly sounded like it was right next to her. Opening her eyes as she snapped her fingers to dismiss the succubus, she was shocked to find that the men had fallen in line in front of the Grand Marshal.
She could see no small bit of admiration on the faces of most the soldiers... with a low growl that somewhat shocked her at it's ferocity, she saw that there was no little admiration on the face of almost all the women as well. Following him quickly she passed one woman who had nearly swooned as he had passed her and shot her a glare.
Back off!
As she took what she considered a proper place just behind and to the side of him, she pondered what it was that was causing her to react so fiercely. It wasn't like she didn't believe for one second that he hadn't already had many women. Or that said women weren't more beautiful, or more talented, or more experienced than she was. Her first meeting with him had been in Goldshire for hell's sake. She knew damned well what it was he got up to when he visited there.
Her eyes lowered for a brief second as she gave a sigh and mentally berated herself. Besides, it wasn't as though she were actually attracted to him. Certainly not. He was loud, currently smelly, drank to much, and molested young women. That last she could personally account for.
The party took off at a slow, steady walking pace. Would probably take them into the night to return to Stormwind...
Her thoughts cut off as the breeze changed and the smell of burning Orc and Human flesh seared through her nose. She stood completely still for a moment, before attempting to continue on. Another whiff and she staggered, bumping into his back. A good strong puff of wind blew by her, surrounding her in the smell and she fell to her knees. The pain in her head was blinding, the smell causing her to want to vomit.
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Post by Callahan on Jul 11, 2009 16:41:43 GMT -5
The marching was helping him alleviate some of the pains he was feeling in his arms. Always did, it was a wonderful thing to be doing. It was the pain in his mind that he needed seeing to. The road ahead was long, and they hadn't got a chance of arriving in Stormwind with the sun up. They would need a few hours just to get out of Redridge, and he had no intention on marching them for the next few hours non stop. He absent mindedly checked he'd gotten his sword in his hand, not wanting to leave anything behind. They'd make a quick stop at their camp, where he'd left his helmet and a few sentries, before continuing on. The camp was only a hundred feet away or so, so it wouldn't be long. Then to Stormwind, with the crowds of cheering and crying civilians and disapproving officers and disappointed soldiers who would leave to have a night in the tavern alone that night. Where he'd probably want to be going as soon as he could. The wind changed and pressed itself into his back, whipping his cloak around his legs and breathing on his back like the women he'd remember waking up with in Goldshire, hangover and all. Possibly something that made him drink more to forget, maybe it- hey! He felt something push into him from behind. He steadied himself, finding no one there as he turned, but looking down the small woman kneeling on the ground, looking as though she were ill. He sniffed. Charred bodies. Maybe he was the only one used to it. He looked down at her, considering for a second, then glad that it was his shield arm that had taken the gouge, picking her up with one arm and moving on so as not to halt the group. They didn't need to be here any longer than they wanted to be. Not that it was the only reason for picking her up. She weighed next to nothing to him, which was good and bad. He distracted himself with looking at her, sleeping, unconscious, drowsy, he wasn't sure, but he felt he would crush her if he parted his gaze from her for a moment. intricate battle carvings and spikes adorned his shield, back and arms, and he was playing a dangerous game carrying her. The last thing he wanted to do was impale her. His legs guided him to their old encampment, the few soldiers there alert and ready to greet the returning force, much of the equipment packed. Val gave them a nod, with a look signifying that they shouldn't ask the question they were going to, moving over to where he had slept that night and picking up his helmet with his free, shield hand. He placed it on his head, partly because it was the only free space, and partly because he didn't want to have to look civilians in the eyes when he got to Stormwind. The day would be a long, probably uneventful one, and he could already feel a complaint brewing in his shoulder just from picking up that helmet. He got the feeling he should have cut that Orc into more pieces than he did, but dismissed it, just glad to be heading back to civilisation for the time being. To desks and paperwork and complaining arisocracy. How long before he longed for the battle horn at his back again he didn't know, but if the last few years were anything to go by, it wouldn't be long. He was effectively trapped by his loathing of the politics of war, and his dread for the loss of his men. A vicious circle. At least today, though, he'd found a spot of relief. He gently pulled closer the smaller body in his arms. Thread continues here: Viscious Circle
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