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January 27, 2017 at 5:24 am #242367
Braund did not lap in the mans torment. He did not revel in the kill, he wouldn’t bellow or giggle like a madman. He merely held the man there in his strong vice, the pressure increasing slow until his skull would simply give way. His arms wouldn’t strain, as if he had done this a thousand times before. It was little energy to be committed to such a thing where he has endured much worse in the past.
His fingers would graze against the mans eyelashes, seeking purchase they plunge into his eyes, seeking to gouge his eyes out. He was bored, after all. He liked to watch people suffer, it made his blood tingle at the thought of suffering. If the young boy had any sense, he would scream loud… attracting more attention to the heroes location,and mainly putting fear in their hearts.
VanityPirate - "Banished to the elephant graveyard"
Blood trail killer - "It's like a thumbs up but with Parkinson's tho."January 27, 2017 at 6:22 pm #242535
Evelyn’s slash was quite effective, the strike knocked the man off balance and severing blood vessel in the leg. Alan managed to get up and draw his own hatchet. Hefting the hatchet, he delivers a fatal blow to the man, driving the hatchet into the man’s blood, which sprayed all over Alan. In a fit of rage, he screamed and ripped the hatchet out of the man’s throat and started hacking at the man’s chest. “Rahhhh!!” Each blow sent more blood splattering all over his leather armor. He stopped and looked at Evelyn. “I’m…sorry. Now where’s Angelica?”
The youth let out one final scream, and it was a loud one, one worth checking out, and Braund would feel his skull crunch like a twig. In fact, if Braund were to look, the boy’s skull and head would be no more; he had completely crushed the man’s skull, leaving brain matter and bits of skull in his hands. The boy’s headless body dropped to the ground with a thud.
The sentinel found his Lord in the desecrated church. He looked at the rest of his brothers, those who have strayed from their false path and have found a new life in their new path. The others had created a small fire, cooking a small meal while the others were doing other duties. Some of the pews have been set straight, as if being used for a service once again. The sentinel saw the Lord and saw he was talking to a pair of cultists. He still retained his old crusader armor, except the armor was darkened to a light black, holy symbols on his tabard replaced with the symbol of the cultists, and a flowing black cape with a crimson symbol of the cultists blazened on the back. The sentinel knelt before the Lord. “Sire, the interlopers are heading this way. They must have followed the trail of the false crusader who escaped.” Lord Tywen turned to the cultists. “You must begin the ceremony at once! When we have dealt with the interlopers, they shall finally hear the words of our Prophet!” The cultist and the alcolyte hurried away.
Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence and three times is enemy action.January 28, 2017 at 5:33 am #242647
The grapeshot struck the tree, sending splinters in the air, just as Angelica rolled behind the trunk. She exhaled sharply; that was close, TOO close. She wouldn’t live long if she had to rely on chance like that.
She heard the screams, and cleared her mind instantly; a smirk was back on her face as she figured her shot has found its mark. Knowing how long it takes to reload a firearm, she peeked around the tree, feeling safe. Spotting the brigand who was threatening both Alan and Evelynn go down, she took a quick look at the treeline. She pulled the trigger swiftly on both guns, aiming at where the shot came from, then hid behind the tree again.
She still had one bullet remaining before needing to reload.January 30, 2017 at 10:55 am #243188
As the boy’s corpse fell victim to Braund’s grasp, he let the corpse fall, watching as the lifeless mass of flesh thudded loud against the earth, and watching the blood pool in the dirt cracks and around the edges of Braund’s fur boots. The bottom of his soles would be stained a crimson red. He would have to find a water source to clean off the blood, so he didn’t leave anymore tracks. Keeping the thought in mind, Braund paid no attention to the heroes at this moment in time, and knelt down beside the corpse. He gripped the boys limp left arm and forced the corpse upright, the young brigands chest staring up at Braund. He breathed solemnly through his barbuta, the cold air that seeped from his mouth could be seen, appearing as if icicles were about to form in the very air itself.
His left, brass clad gauntlet went to his behind, fishing beneath the crimson tabard drifting above the thin veil of blood accumilating on the ground. He fished out a vicious, crooked dagger with a jagged edge, clearly meant to carve poor sods to shreds… it would appear however, that it was most effective at cutting throats because of the crooked design of the blade itself. He brought the dagger upward, hovering it above where the child’s heart was would and raking it down across his chest. More blood spewed on, leaving a diagonal streak of dark blood across his barbuta whilst the other areas of his armour such as his chest would be speckled in blood droplets. The familiar sound of flesh tearing was masked by the bang of a flintlock, sounding from Angelica, hiding his presence effectively. Once the chest had been open, he would bring his other hand upward, curling it into a tight fist and slamming down on the boys rib cage. Braund made no huff or signs of strain before or after. He would remain silent, as this was a work of art in his eyes afterall…
The loud crack of bone permitted through the air around him, and he threw bits of rib away, his fingers becoming bloodied from his scavenging. Once the chest area was clear, he eyed his price with utter glee, even making him sigh in relief. The heart, cold and dead, lay barren in the boys chest, undamaged… pure, in Braund’s eyes. His desire to collect such things proved nigh unimaginable. He couldn’t resist gathering hearts for the one he looked up toward. With aggressive intent, he ripped out the boys heart, heart tubes being torn and veins being popped which in turn caused the boys hole in his chest to start filling up with blood as a result. Standing up, he held the heart, the bottom of his leather fingers smoothing across the surface of the boys heart. He nodded slowly in acknowledgement, taking out a thick, crimson red silk and tying around the heart. If he were to gather… let’s say, four hearts, he would fashion the string about them as if he were tying up garlic.
VanityPirate - "Banished to the elephant graveyard"
Blood trail killer - "It's like a thumbs up but with Parkinson's tho."January 30, 2017 at 11:42 am #243202
Evelyn watched Alan rip the brigand’s chest apart warily, knowing that there was at least one more armed brigand out there possibly aiming at them at the moment. Ranged weapons were always such a bother, depriving people of the feeling of safety. However, Alan seemed pretty relaxed, so once Alan’s hacking and slashing was done, Evelyn lunged at him to pull him down to a lower stance by grabbing him by the shoulders, possibly interrupting his speech in the process. Before she began her crouched dash towards the trees near Angelica, she gave a quick pat on Alan’s shoulder, urging him to follow her.January 31, 2017 at 1:16 am #243323
Alan crept down and scrambled after Evelyn. Angelica’s first bullet struck a nearby tree and the second bullet struck the man slightly below the shoulder. The brigand let out a scream and grabbed at his wound, and globs of spittle flew everywhere when he uttered his cry. With a few last ounces of strength, he propped the musket on the fallen tree and fired, but since he was not properly gripping the firearm with both hands, the recoil lashed back and the man screamed once more in agony, he turned to flee into the treeline, but he had stumbled on the trail. He screamed as he fled, the pain and agony howled throughout the woods. In a state of shock, pain and confusion, he had taken a wrong turn and stumbled upon Braund. He came upon his dead comrade, headless and heartless. “Oh no. No no no no. What ‘ave you done?” He screamed.
Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence and three times is enemy action.February 1, 2017 at 3:02 am #243552
Braund was idly looking inside one of heart valves in awe. He knew the man was there, yet his eyes were more fixated on the organ itself. The way it was shaped, the vibrancy of its color and the strong scent of a fresh kill surrounding it. It actually made his head twitch out of genuine pleasure from seeing such things. Eventually, he decides it best to face the brigand that had stumbled upon him. With a reluctant and heavy exhale through his barbuta, he rose. The crinkling of his armour sounded similar to the loud snapping of bone, until he was towering high above the man, his hands relaxed and laden by his sides.
He eyed the man uneasily for a few seconds, the thin streak of cold air visible through the vertical line of his barbuta, staining the mans face with its horrid chill. He debated whether to knock the man flat, take his executioner’s sword and run. However, he thought it was best to make sure he was never there. After calculating decisions, Braund raised his hand and pointed back toward where the party was.
“Go, and die… or I will make sure you die slow… as I rip out your heart.” Braund threatened with utter seriousness in his voice, the lines of his voice marred with a chilling evil, one that could very well make the faint hearted have a small anxiety attack. Without even waiting, he strode calmly to the tree he had hid behind before took his executioners sword by the grip, flexing it in his hand. He cocked his head at the man one more time, breathing hard and heavily through his nose before he stomped past him quickly, his executioners sword lolled sluggishly by his side as he walked away, further away from the party and ahead of them.
Once far enough away, Braund would attempt to lay out traps for them, or to draw more attention to them so they’d die quicker. If the cards struck in his favor however… he’d be the one to meet them head on.
VanityPirate - "Banished to the elephant graveyard"
Blood trail killer - "It's like a thumbs up but with Parkinson's tho."February 2, 2017 at 6:09 am #243841
Before Evelyn could take cover, another malicious shot was fired. It was a wide miss, however. Once Evelyn reached a thick enough tree, she quickly pulled herself behind it by grabbing it by the edge. When she looked around, she saw Angelica who was hiding behind a tree as well. Unfortunately, the best way to counter a ranged weapon was to use a ranged weapon yourself. Here, it was proven.February 6, 2017 at 7:34 pm #244984
“He’s gone. Get up.” Angelica called to Alan and Evelynn. Reloading her flintlocks, she moves out of the treeline. The gunslinger was fuming with anger, but it didn’t show.
“Next time I say it’s trapped, do listen. Will you?”February 11, 2017 at 9:42 pm #247325
Alan grumbled and said, “Whatever you say, miss. Yer not me mom.” He extends his hand out to Evelyn. “There was some screaming earlier. Not your work I suppose?”
The bandit stumbled away, tripping over trees and undergrowth, his ragged breathing was only interrupted by the growl of a wild dog or the hoot of an owl. He continued running through the brush until he ran into a body. “Offf.” He looks up and sees a body, dangling on a hook. The man was wearing rusting armor, the body was a rotting mass of worn flesh. The hook had been driven through the man’s head like a fish, the hook’s barbed end from the man’s skull. He looked around him. There were more bodies in the grove; one had been hung by a noose with a small painted sign saying “Heretic” and one man’s beheaded helmeted head was spiked on a sharpened pole. In total, there appeared to be around 15 bodies. The brigand got up and screamed, but he had not been paying attention; an old trap had been laid, and the brigand fell through a hole with sharpened sticks protruding from the earth. The man let out a scream as he landed on the spikes, the sickening crunch of bone and flesh rang throughout the forest.
The cultists began to chant, their calls echoed the halls. The acolyte waved her staff and chanted several verses. The cultists were surrounding an ancient artifact, one almost lost to the ages. Around them, the moans of the restless dead stirred. “Pleaseeeeeeee….” They called. “Spare us from this cycle…..” The moans echoed against the hallowed halls.
Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence and three times is enemy action.February 12, 2017 at 12:13 pm #250479
Sauntering through the thick, overgrown wildlife, Braund continued; increasing the distance between himself and the party so he had more time to plan. He watched as the brigand galloped through the woods, blistered in fear. He heard him scream in absolute fear, surely that would bring attention… along with the crack of bone and stabbing of flesh. Perhaps the heroes would pursue the man… perhaps not. Eventually, he thought it best to lay low, and to… construct a plan, bring about obstacles for them to encounter. Looking about the general foliage, Braund swayed his large figure from left to right, looking about for anything to use whilst positioning himself behind some foliage.
VanityPirate - "Banished to the elephant graveyard"
Blood trail killer - "It's like a thumbs up but with Parkinson's tho."February 13, 2017 at 12:42 pm #251742
Evelyn grabbed the hand that was offered to her and pulled herself away from the tree. Angelica was right, Alan was being too reckless. Couple that with the deserter Libourg; this expedition had started badly. After her frustrated thoughts, Evelyn remembered that Alan was shot and she pointed at the gunshot wound on Alan’s shoulder. If Alan stood still, she would have a closer look at it.February 16, 2017 at 5:04 pm #252091
Angelica replied with silence, she has long since learned not to argue and move on. “Everyone okay? Can we get going or you need a break?” she asked, watching the perimeter. It got quiet, she had no doubt the remaining bandits ran away. The question was, did they have reinforcements. She felt a pang of anxiety crawl on her back.March 2, 2017 at 10:51 pm #257340
(FORGIVE ME, MY CHILDREN)
Alan winced. “I’ve been shot, might as well get the little shit outta me.” He sat down and began to undo some of the straps of his leather armor. “Evelyn, I don’t know how bad it is. Help patch me up if it is,” he says to the crusader. After undoing several straps, Alan winced and took off the main leather chest piece, revealing a somewhat gray-haired chest, with a small beer belly developing. He looked at his wound and the armor. The musket ball had broken the skin, but the leather armor provided some protection that softened the impact. “Ah shit…” Alan grumbled. “Help me dress my wound and we’ll continue on.”
Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence and three times is enemy action.March 3, 2017 at 8:29 pm #257394
Braund would find random objects on the forest floor. Some coils of rope. A discarded sword. An abandoned cultist mask. And before him, he would spot an abandoned cart with a couple of crates in it. A weapons shipment to the Heir, apparently discarded and abandoned. A pair of corpses lay nearby, killed by the brigands from earlier. One looked like a merchant or arms dealer. The other was a brawnier man, probably the one carrying the cart. If Braund looked, there would be a crate open, with a small inventory list inside listing how many musket balls were in it (about a hundred, 25 for each musket), how many muskets (4 but two were looted by the brigands) and a few short swords. A small keg of powder was also in the cart. A very good find. If Braund had the ingenuity, he could perhaps make use of the weapons, and could perhaps set up and ambush. An explosion that would cut off their path through the forest? Or a trap for the greedy?
Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence and three times is enemy action.
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