Further
north over a slight hill a group of figures emerged, silhouetted through the
haze. “Are we too late!?” roared the largest of them. He was a mighty Norn, a
Warrior to be precise. The sturdy leather straps and metal armor clanked
together with every footfall. Dark hair skimmed his massive shoulders, its umbrae
color almost absorbing the foggy morning light. His muscles flexed solidly
under his tanned and rough skin as he gripped his twin stygian reavers tightly.
The Norn’s verdigris eyes expressed rage at what he was witnessing, all while his
linier tattoo down his left eye flinched with the furrowing of his brow.
From
under the massive Norn’s shadow a smaller figure emerged. “This may even be
over your head Verd but with the evident burning domiciles, bloody corpses
strewn about, and the crystal clear sounds of helpless screaming… yes. I’d say
we’re late.” The Asura said sharply as he took in the unfolding chaos. The
large intellectual orbs observing and analyzing every detail, painstakingly
calculating all relevant and possible scenarios. He lifted his grayish hand to
his chin in careful thought and tapped his cheek where his ritualistic skull
style marking etched his skin. The fog flowed over his head as it caressed his
viridian braided hair. With his other hand he swept his scholarly cloak aside
and rested it in his pant pocket.
Another
Norn stepped forward. He too was large and had a similar demonic marking
adorning his skin, red and vibrant. He
pulled his dark hair back and tied it with a leather cord, knotting it tightly.
His face was young in appearance and clean shaven, which was odd for a Norn,
but wisdom lingered behind those dark eyes. He rolled up his cloak sleeves,
revealing his tribal tattoos, and folded his arms over his chest. He scanned
the ravaged village taking note of all the dead bodies. “The battle is still
raging, we still have time to get down there and destroy Zhaitan’s pets.” He
said to Crikk.
“I said
we were late, not once did I make mention that we were out of time, Ragnar. Do
not presume to correct me less you find yourself the one being corrected.” The
Asura retorted with a stern look. Ragnar said nothing in return, but focused
his gaze back at the unfolding massacre.
From behind the trio, a slender and feminine
form swayed with the darkened fog. Her ash white and brown multicolored hand
twirled the fog around in the air. Her pink curious like eyes gazed at it as it
flowed and circled around her twig like finger. She seemed to see things in the
fog, her mind taking in every sense and feeling associated with it. Finally she
turned to the fight down below with a renewed focus in her stare. Her branch
like appendages creaked slightly as she moved. Her hair, more like a bushel of
dread like foliage, ran down her leafy back in the form of a ponytail. “Life
deserves to live.” Her words were as gentle as flower peddles, “These undead
minions had their chance at it once, now we need to stop them stealing it from
others who deserve it. You agree with that, right Galzar?”
“I agree Sirona.” A gruff voice
said from the shadows of the trees. With a muffled puff, a slender but strong
Charr dropped from the canopy above. Every move was graceful and fluid. Galzar
studied the unfolding battle with a predators gaze as the morning breeze brushed
across his dark patterned fur. He pulled a razor sharp dagger from its sheath
and crouched down, flipping the weapon in the air in a playful manner, all the
while surveying the area. His leather armor made not a sound as he moved.
“Crikk, at least we’ll have plenty
of bodies for our undead army.” Ragnar suggested to the Asura.
Sirona whirled on the Norn
Necromancer with a disdainful look, like an ember to a raindrop. “Don’t you
dare defile those innocent people down there! They have been through enough
already don’t you think!?”
“Ragnar is correct in his tactical
thought process regardless of your nonessential feeling in the matter.” Crikk
answered back, “We’d just as well run ourselves through for not taking full
advantage of the environmental weapons at our disposal. Besides, to put it in
bookah terms, we’re giving the dead a chance to fight back.”
Sirona released a breathy sigh. She
didn’t like the idea, but the Asura did put a positive spin on this unfortunate
situation. At least those killed by the dragon’s minions would have a chance at
avenging themselves… even if they are being controlled by a volatile Norn and a
know it all Asura. “Fine… but don’t use them if you don’t have to.” She asked.
“I can’t make a guarantee like that
in a tactical battle scenario such as this one.” Crikk said bluntly.
A loud
mechanical click startled everyone out of their intense focus. “My apologies.”
A Human said as he stepped up on the hill, “Did I interrupt your serious
moment?” He smiled slyly as he loaded a round into his rifle. His face was
bright, but not as bright as his blazing red hair. An old life with the Charr
had yielded an interesting cut style, short in the front, but wild and untamed
in the back. He past a lithe hand through it then lifted and placed his goggles
atop his brow. The backpack he carried was filled with odd flasks, containers
and gadgets. He strolled over to a clear spot on the small hill and retrieved
an interesting contraption from his beneath his pack. Setting it down gently,
the Human pressed a series of buttons in a specific order. The mechanism hummed
and rattled, and after a few moments unfolded and extended into a mobile mortar
station.
“Ziggy,
I take it you’re going to be adding support fire from up here then?” Verd,
asked with a grin.
“Indeed
my large friend.” Ziggy replied as he continued to rummage through his pack,
“I’ll make sure I mostly pay attention so I don’t blow any of you up. If worse
comes to worse, Crikk or Ragnar can just enslave your corpses and we can
continue being one big happy family!”
“Assuming
we don’t get blown up either…” Ragnar retorted.
“Well
yes, that’s true. Just keep moving you know. Duck and dodge and all that and
I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Ziggy winked back.
“Alright!”
Verd exclaimed, “I think that’s been enough talking. There are undead down
there who have a destiny being at the sharp end of my axes. I’m sure Galzar’s
blades are itching for action as well, so let us not waste any more time.”
Nobody
objected, and everyone’s looks showed they agreed. With weapons ready and minds
focused, the band of heroes charged down into their favorable battle positions,
which included Verd running head long into the heart of the undead infestation.
Both necromancers cautiously headed down to the perimeter of the village
outskirts. Galzar and Sirona both trailed behind the battle ready Warrior,
ready to provide assistance, and also to test their own mettle against the
hoard. Meanwhile, Ziggy tweaked and adjusted his mortar station, making sure to
aim at the densest portion of undead for maximum devastation.
BAM!
Ziggy fired his first round. Little did he know that as clever of an idea as it
was to hit the largest group of enemies, it was Verd’s dumbest idea to do the
same. The shell whistled with a high pitch whine as it sailed over head. Galzar
and Sirona looked up simultaneously, and then looked back down at each other
with concern in their eyes. Verd continued to charge at an uncanny pace, his
twin axes out at the ready, and a twisted smile spread ear to ear. The mortar
round and the Norn were about to get a little more intimate, and not in a
pleasant way. The Charr tried to call out to the Norn, but his roar fell on
deaf ears.
A
brilliant flash erupted from seemingly nowhere. The blinding light came before
the deafening sound. Undead rained down across the village square, their body
parts slapping against the compacted earth and rubble scattered about. Verd
found himself a mere foot from his first kill, and then the next moment, time
seemed to slow down. He found himself being lifted into the air away from what
he desired; his first kill, as if this was some sort of nightmare. Suddenly
time caught up with him. He shot back into the air, landing with a sickening thud
against the wall of a still standing building. Groaning, Verd picked himself
up, wobbled, and steadied his body against the same wall. He saw the Charr and
Sylvari rushing up to him, but he waved them off with a gesture. Luckily he
held on to his weapons through his rough flight and landing. Taking a few
slashes in the air, Verd nodded and jogged back into the frey.
Back
atop the hill, Ziggy cringed as he realized where Verd was headed. Too bad the
trigger had already been pulled. The human thought for a moment, really he
should have figured that would be the first place the suicidal Norn would head.
As soon as the explosion went off, Ziggy pulled down his eagle eye goggles and
scanned the impact area. He was relieved to see Verd standing back up on his own.
A little worse for wear, but an engineer can’t let little setbacks like this
get in the way of progress. Ziggy made a quick note of where all his allies
were and proceeded to adjust his next shot's coordinates.
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