Closed [The Bronze Woods] III. Killing Ground

Razkar and his sellswords prepare their ambush

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Stretching northward along the coastline of the Suvan Sea, the Cobalt Mountains are the home of the Bronze Wood, numerous ruins, and creatures both strange and fantastical.

[The Bronze Woods] III. Killing Ground

Postby Kaie on June 20th, 2013, 9:54 pm

Was he serious? She found herself pondering whether or not it was a cruel joke, one used just to get her all riled up. Indignant even. Quickly she found he wasn't kidding at all. He truly wanted her to pose as the innocent, defenseless, lost woman. A barbaric role reserved for dependent, inferior people. Shameful. All is fair in love and war, so she'd have to suck it up. Just play her part and bring glory to the Goddess. After all, that was her sole purpose for existing wasn't it? No one said she had to like the means of doing so. You get what you wish for, sometimes in ways you didn't expect. This would be a prime example. If Razkar wanted her to play the pawn, the swine for the slaughter, she would do it. Kaie had seen plenty of whores play the part of false innocence in the tavern. It seemed easy enough. Exploit her own weaknesses, even if they're not real. Eventually she realized the true gift her leader had actually bestowed upon her. He didn't really put her up as bait. No, he blessed her like none other than her own could. He gave her opportunity. What other way was there to glorify Myri than being the first to drive a blade into the enemy's heart?

She did as she was told, ditching the cloak to leave nothing but her native attire. Simple vest that buttoned once in the middle where it mattered and a loincloth to match. It would do the job. Next came the hardest part. Losing the weapons. She could drop the bow, the arrows, and the knives like worthless pieces of metal and wood. Her father's gladius on the other hand? Not so easy. She treasured that damn thing. It was her rock through her times here, reminding her of home with the designs upon the hilt. The short visual stories that retold the doings of Myri. For a "savage" wearing skimpy clothing in the first place, it was odd to think she actually felt naked when the gladius dropped from her hips. It landed with a thud behind the bushes, falling over the cloak. Bows and arrows followed. All but one thing. The meager food knife she used then to create gashes across her body. Nicks on her arms and slices on her legs. All injuries that would look believable if she claimed she'd been stumbling for miles like some barbaric idiot through the brambles. When she was finished, she tucked it cleverly at her back and out of view.

It wasn't long before the carts arrived. The ones full of slavers, mercenaries, and their animals. A dog or two yipped impatiently, turning into growls and whines at her scent. As soon as the caravan rolled into view, Kaie made a dramatic stumble from left stage into their path. Half stumbling down the uneven ground, snapping twigs and low branches on her way down. Goddess, she felt so stupid. Letting herself drop like a drunken slut right there in the dirt. She could feel her warm blood mixing with the moist, cool earth along her knees and elbows. Places only clumsy people find dirt. Her hair fell over her face, a messy style that somehow still was visually appealing. The curls and waves falling into their rightful, messy places. She looked up through the strands, doing her best to mimic what a desperate expression looked like. The one she'd seen by beggar girls only days before. Then came the real idiocy she felt necessary to be played up. She shoved herself to her feet, faking a soft pant as if she had been running for some time. Like their wagons were her last hope and they were her infamous knights in shining armor.

On her feet now, she kept her posture a bit slouched with that faked exhaustion. Face flushed with relief as she noticed a few men halting, whispering and grinning at one another. A man stalked up toward her. A grungy looking guy with black stubble and dark eyes. The kind of face that just spells out trouble. The way he walked held authority. She guessed if he wasn't the leader he was at least some sort of mouth to the group. The one who barked orders when they were due. The way he looked at her was revolting really. Not even focusing on her eyes. Oh no, his gaze was quite low. His hands toyed in a sinister manner about the hilt of his sword. What a real bastard.

"Please...Help me. I lost my travelling partner a day ago. I can't navigate these woods for my life! Please, wherever you're going, take me with you!" She said in a helpless tone, eyes pleading with his in her act. Surprisingly, her Common sounded great. Guess that sort of comes in the package when you've been forced to speak it for that many petching years in Syliras. The man reached out and took her hand in his calloused one, thumb rubbing the webbing between her thumb and index finger. A reassuring sort of motion that make her want to gut him right there. She wasn't close enough though. She needed to be patient. Right then, Kaie decided patience was a hell in itself.

"Easy now, Lass. My buddies and I... We'll take real nice care of ya 'lright?" He said in that pitiful tone like she was some wounded child. And there was that malicious gleam in his eyes again. She swore if she got the chance she'd tear them out as soon as Razkar's arrow landed its target. He came close enough for her to smell the sweat soaked in his clothing. A long travel she'd assume. That or he was the most foul human being she'd ever set her sights upon. Both seemed like good probabilities. The man wrapped his arm around her shoulders, other hand still holding hers. It was like he thought he was some comfort blanket over her shoulder or something. Just before she thought about the idea she might rather puke than spend another minute under his wing, they approached the wagons. That's when she saw the hand snake from the bars of some caged wagon. Slaves. That was all the confirmation she needed. The dogs were at bay. Men had eyes only on her. The stage was all Kaie's and she'd be damned if she choked when the lights went on.

No one could see. Oh, no. It was too good. Too perfect. It was almost criminal how easy her opportunity was. She leaned her head into the crook of the man's arm, nodding like she felt same at last. A nuzzle even. Not a soul that wasn't from her own party could see the sin she committed next. One hand reaching to his chest as if she needed support, the second slid to her backside casually. With him distracted, she withdrew the knife oh so slowly. Then like lightning, she quickly shifted behind his arm and out of his embrace. There now, she leaped upon his back like a tiger. Only there to ensure her knifes drew deep and true across his neck. He went down like a stone, eyes all bug eyed and gagging. Blood trailed down his throat like a mountain stream. He slammed into the dirt with her on top of his back. Crouching like the savage they always imagined over her fallen victim. A feral snarl slipping between her teeth. A tiger defending her prey. Behind that rage of blood lust was accomplishment. At last she drew first blood. Watched her first victim fall.

Oh the look on their faces watching the man fall. Absolutely priceless. The act was over and the lights went out. Let the stage crew ignite the platform and burn the evidence of her performance. Let the audience bleed.








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[The Bronze Woods] III. Killing Ground

Postby Razkar on June 21st, 2013, 12:07 am

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"Performance of a lifetime, female..."

The harsh, guttural words from the jungle gurgled up from Razkar's throat in a ghost of a whisper as he watched Kaie lifted up into her "savior's" arms, limp and doe-eyed as her character purported to be. The male could almost feel the raw lust emanating from the caravan, every slaver and sellsword there wondering which would be his turn with this dusky beauty.

Razkar's guts twisted at the very thought of that, but he quelled it, overpowered it. Concentrated on the scene before him and the weapons in his hand: bow and arrow notched and ready...

The caravan was just as the scouts and the letter had described. Five wagons, four of them covered by thck blankets and tent material. But even from there, Razkar's nose wrinkled at the overpowering stink of shit, piss, body odor and sheer, overwhelming misery. Only the fifth seemed to be lacking the smell, Myrians' ears pricking as he heard the slosh from water or ale barrels, bags of dried rations probably packed in there, too.

But the guards... they were his priority.

Crouched behind a tree, dark eyes narrowed and flickered and danced from the front of the stalled caravan to its end. There were... eight riders that Razkar could see, two behind, two up front and two on the sides. Kyra was right to have been suspicious: eight men guarding perhaps fifty slaves? The wagon drivers looked like merchants, though appearances meant little... but each wagon also had another man in armor riding next to the drivers... each armed with a crossbow...

Still too few. One of the carts, for certain has the rest, just waiting.

But waiting was one thing he and his band had been doing long enough. On either side of him, Kyra, Solin and Daelyn crouched or lay, the first two with arrows notched and aimed at the drivers on the lead two wagons. He knew that opposite them, Ekvan and his hidden killers were doing the same, and Razkar drew a calm, careful bead on the lead rider, smirking with yellow teeth at his partner who'd dismounted to snatch up Kaie.

"C'mon, female..." Razkar whispered, breathing slowly, steadying his muscles and thus the bow as he aimed, half an eye watching Kaie being carried away. "Time to get to-"

As if on command, the frightened girl was cast off in a blur of purposeful movement, hand sliding behind the man carrying her, around his neck-

-flashing steel and gleaming blood arcing from a red line in the stunned human's throat-

Silence. For an eternal moment, there was naught but shocked, stunned, paralyzing immobility up and down the caravan. The rider's partner just stared, mouth open. The nearest wagon driver spewed up a mouthful of mead, and the crossbowman next to him started to raise his-

-Razkar shifted his aim and when the head of his arrow rested over the man's belly, he let fly-

-arrow darting through the air in a blink, thudding into the human's gut. Always a nice place to aim for, in Razkar's opinion: kill or just wounded, a target that broad was always safer. As the crossbowman reeled back, weapon tumbling from his hands as his body did from the cart, Razkar's voice split the air like a thunderclap, hand already snapping back over his shoulder for another arrow.

"NOW!"

And his band needed no more urging as to the slaughter...

OOCAaaaaaand they're off! I'll have the next thread up shortly, and it's gonna be FUN! I'll be throwing a few curves in from time to time, keep it interesting. Nice work, Kaie!
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My Words | Your Words | Myrian | Fratavan | My Thoughts
Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
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[The Bronze Woods] III. Killing Ground

Postby Perplexity on July 17th, 2013, 7:04 pm

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Riddled With Rewards
Razkar

Experience
Skill XP Earned
Leadership + 3 EXP
Tactics + 1 EXP
Rhetoric +1 EXP
Carving +1 EXP


Lores
Lore Earned
Tactic: Surprise! It’s an ambush!
Kyra, Passive-Aggressive
Flint and Tinder, Fire Without Smoke
Do as I say…and as I do.


Fubuki Kouri

Experience
Skill XP Earned
Soulmist Projection + 1 XP


Lores
Lore Earned
The Plight of Squirrels: Stealing Breakfast
The Geysers, An Interesting Place


Daelyn Caliban

Experience
Skill XP Earned
Observation + 2 XP


Lores
Lore Earned
Cannon Fodder 101
Anticipating The Worst


Solin

Experience
Skill XP Earned
Socilization + 2 XP
Tracking + 2 XP
Observation + 1 XP


Lores
Lore Earned
Fubuki + Helmet = Good Idea
The Thrill of Shifting
How Do You Smell? Familiar.


Kyra

Experience
Skill XP Earned
Observation + 1 XP
Rhetoric + 2 XP
Leadership + 1 XP


Lores
Lore Earned
A Word of Caution
Sarcasm and I: What Do I Know?
Myrians and Humor Don’t Mix
Dogs. Why dogs?


Kaie

Experience
Skill XP Earned
Observation + 2 XP
Rhetoric + 1 XP
Acting + 3 XP


Lores
Lore Earned
Razkar, A Warrior of Great Prowess
A Sound Plan!
The world’s a stage…drench it in blood.
Joy of First Kill


Notes :
Ladies and gentlemen I could scarcely stop reading this thread. Well done. Well done indeed. I tip my hat to you all.
Ms. Kaie, please note in your character sheet the following injuries:
• | Bleeding Wound: Right Leg.
• | Bleeding Wound: Left Arm.
• | Both wounds can be tended to by simple bandages and ointments and will take a minimum of 48 hours to heal completely.
If you have questions, comments or concerns please feel free to toss me a PM and I will address your issues as promptly as possible.
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