Closed [The Farmlands] Sharknado

[Adem]

Adem’s fingers came up to his face where the blood had hit him. What was that, what was that-- He was still holding onto his shovel--thank the gods--but he bore little hope of his chances for survival if he were to be confronted by whatever the petch had taken off the monk’s petching arm. His eyes were wide, but he couldn’t seem to make a sound. They followed the one-armed monk as he hobbled away, obviously in no condition to do so, but a Nykan is a Nykan is a Nykan: if you couldn’t fend for yourself, who would? Adem didn’t really want to bother with the monk--he certainly had no experience with first aid, though he had nursed his fair share of cuts and bruises himself; his cloak was wet with the monk’s gross blood, and even then monks on the whole tended to be humongous pricks. No, the monks hadn’t done him any favours. Between the parted wheat there was revealed a heavily-armed, well-muscled man with a raised trident in his hand and a gleam of terrible determination in his eye. Behind him was a blue-skinned man that made the former look like the little doll his sister used to own before she accidentally tore it in two. Both looked very out of place and very dangerous. Adem took a step back. Something had taken off that monk’s arm. He needed to get away from here, now. He did the only thing he could think of: tentatively at first, toeing in the opposite direction of whatever it was that had blinked past them, before breaking into a splay-legged sprint. He couldn’t remember which way led toward Nyka: if he had known, he would have been running the other way.

[Imass]

Within a split second the tension was broken in the battleground of wheat. The vile beast roared past them, taking the appendages of a monk with it. A shiver of primal excitement went down his spine at the sight of the beast.

Decisive action was the Knight's only instinct; his mind devoid of all other thoughts. Ignoring the monk and pushing the grisly scene of blood deep into his subconscience, he pivoted forward shooting off an arrow as quickly as possible down the path the land shark had created. The arrow flew straight ahead; he had neither the time, nor practice, to think about angles of trajectory, wind, etc.

Pulren took off running, following the trail of blood; his form athletic and precise.

Imass remained in place, frowning grimly. He notched another arrow and drew the string back. With only two seconds to think, he raised the angle ten degrees higher and shot off in the same direction hoping to hit the shark down the line. The Knight really had no experience in bowman-ship during live battle, but he would adhere to his training, in faith, that he would overcome momentary challenge.

Grabbing another arrow, the Knight began to sprint after Pulren who was now (roughly) twenty yards ahead of him. Totally focused on the quarry, Imass didn't notice a farmer had been standing in his way. Smashing into the man, the Akalak lost mental focus.

"MOVE!"

[Balderdash]

OOCMy word, it was difficult finding the time to write this. Doctor shenanigans and moving suck. Sorry for the wait! The first arrow thudded into the earth uncomfortably close to Adem's calf, which may have tipped the farmer off that something was amiss. A couple ticks later, the second arrow sailed over Adem's head and vanished into the wheat. Moments later, he heard it: The moo. A slow, rumbling low that came from something mere feet from Adem's right. Though he knew in his heart what made the sound, he didn't need to rely on his imagination for long. The shark burst out from between the wheat stalks, a mass of teeth and sinewy muscle around a gaping red maw hurtling straight at Adem's arm. Pulren and Imass saw a great tail thrash above the heads of grain as the beast maneuvered its huge body around the farmboy, dripping jaws seeking out Adem's sweet flesh.

[Pulren Marsh]

Petchin' Nykans. Anyone who spent their life huddling around the Aperture of all places should well know not to dally in the face of strange beasts. Perhaps the true purpose of Nyka and its denizens was to simply feed the Aperture and its own. A lovely thought as Pulren burst through the stalks to find some Nykan in the way.Shield raised and trident at the ready, he could only be further stunned as another unarmed and unarmored person came into view. They all deserved to be eaten.

As if in response to his thoughts, the shark appeared from the walls of wheat, its hunger not sated from the previous monk's arm. Now it hustled and bustled its way to the soft and pink flesh of this young man, who would be completely eaten with little resistance were it not for a couple of mercenaries. Ready for the backlash, Pulren shot out with the trident, its cool shaft sliding effortlessly against his hand as he let it fly into the flank of the shark. The tines found their purchase, immediately bringing a new sound from the beast. A greater roar. Was it surprise?

Wrestling the trident free with a different spray of blood, Pulren rolled forward and away from the line of sight of the Akalak's aim, hoping he would sink an arrow or two into the beast to keep it distracted. If not, he was already in a crouch with his shield up, his body weight against it. If it chose to rush him, the Zeltiva would go straight for its mouth and try to spear it in its own soft pink insides.

[Imass]

The flying shark roared near Adem and Imass. One, two, one, two; Imass intuitively stepped away with his head ducked.

"Huuuuh," he gasped for air. A single bead of sweat rolled into his left eye, forcing him to close it, "Ugh,"

Crossing his feet and flipping his hips back around, Imass strung another arrow with his knees bent. Pulren flew past him to engage the beast.

Drawing the bowstring to full extension, he stood up, aimed right at the center of the beast, and released tension. The arrow zoomed by nearly hitting Pulren as he disengaged momentarily to give Imass a shot.

Stringing another arrow, the Knight backpedaled with his shoulders perpendicular to the monster and prepared for another shot.

[Adem]

Adem was all breathless animal terror. His chest heaved beneath him and he thought he might lose consciousness, but still he held onto that gods-damned spade even when it started to feel like he was shoveling sand into his throat rather than air. The ground he moved across was a little lopsided, but he didn’t have time to worry about that. He kept running. Until he was stopped by the twang! of an arrow lodging itself into the ground near his feet, and he tripped and crumpled to the ground with the shovel to his chest. The blade was still smeared with dried shit and five chimes ago he would have rolled over and expired, but given the extreme circumstances he didn’t think to acknowledge how truly terrible his life was. He didn’t even see the shark; he flattened himself against the ground, knee-locked. If he got through the entire ordeal alive, he would look back again and vehemently deny every action he took that led up to him cowering on the ground, like a coward.

[Balderdash]

Unfortunately for Adem, sharks did not fall for the old "play dead" trick. Staccato cracks sounded along his arm like popcorn pinging off a tin pot as the great beast's jaws clamped on it like it was a stick of delicious jerky. Luckily for Adem, this moment of distraction proved more than enough for Pulren and Imass to arrive and land their hits with little effort. The Zeltivan heard a small "snk" of tearing fabric as the arrow rocketed past him and sunk into the shark's flank with a satisfying wet thud as his trident found its mark in the monster's hide. Immediately it let go of Adem's now-mangled arm, mercifully sparing him from sharing the same fate as the monk, though if the blood and partially-chewed flesh were any indicator he'd need medical attention quite soon. As Imass nocked his second arrow Pulren saw a sinuous tail hurtling towards him just a tick too late to stop it from crashing into his shield and sending him staggering if not falling over. The second shot whizzed past the shark's dorsal fin as it turned to flee, staining the wheat stalks around it with its own blood pouring from the wounds the duo scored. If they didn't do something quick, the chase would be on again... Though it didn't seem like this one would be a particularly difficult or long trail to follow.

[Pulren Marsh]

The squish and the scrunch of the arm being chewed by the shark only incensed Pulren further. It was time to put that damned beast down! No more playing, though he was happy with the results of his stabs and Ser Imass' volleys. The creature took as bloody as it gave. Pulren, looking at the ravaged farmer and seeing the blood as it sprayed across the wheat stalks, would no longer allow that thing to live.

He thought about that as he was rolled rather forcefully over his shield, the wood taking the brunt of the shark's muscled blow. Tossing the shield aside, he looked right into the creature's black eye as he ran toward it. "You should have stayed in the Void, vagik!" With a leap and a downward strike of his trident, the tines sank into its flesh above its head. Once Pulren had that much leverage, he squeezed with his boots into the sides of the beast, each twist of its blood soaked head aiding him in pushing that much deeper. If it tried to fly up to throw him, Pulren would drive the trident down. The shark was a muscle. Don't let the muscle go skyward was the thought. That and kill the vagik.

[Imass]

Imass missed his second shot, whereas his first shot was a hit. The Akalak's mind registered the carnage inflicted on the farmer, but paid it no heed. Pulren had taken a bold leap onto the beast in an attempt to pin it down. Imass was skeptical of the attack, especially since Pulren dropped his shield.

Notching another arrow, he raised his sights and elbow again. The Knight even pulled the string back with all his might, bending the frame of the bow more than usual. His arm was shaking now so he let loose aiming right for the center of the beast.

The Shark began to trash now as Imass notched his 8th arrow. He instinctively took two more steps back. Worried of friendly fire and anxious at his own lack of experience in combat archery, he let loose conservatively trying to aim low.

He notched his 9th arrow now, slightly bending at the knees in case his needed to leap away from the wild shark...

[Adem]

Adem didn’t recognize what happened at first. Everything had moved too fast for him to follow: he had been aware of the cold, impartial ground beneath him, the shaft of the shovel pressing up uncomfortably against his chest. He had detached himself from the sounds of battle and his own wheezing, noting it impersonally as an observer would standing on Nyka’s walls, watching the carnage below. For a moment, the world had begun to realign itself: the monster would be taken care of by the two fierce mercenaries that had swept him to the side, and he would be all right. Then the bones in his arm exploded. He screamed, though he wouldn’t remember it after, his feet pedaling against the dirt like a jackrabbit having a seizure, blind with panic. He didn’t think, but his body spasmed with a single thought: escape. His other arm was pinned beneath his body as the shark went to town on his arm, but for all Adem would remember he had been ripped apart by a thousand knives flying in malicious synchronization, buzzing and spitting like a cloud of hornets. It all lasted a second; when the shark fled the pursuit of the mercenaries, it left Adem motionless on the ground. He was still on top of the shovel. The blood in his unfeeling arm had been set alight and only burned brighter as the adrenaline slowly leaked away from him and into the soil, just like the quickly growing puddle of red that grew and grew beneath him. He tried to whisper something like “gods” or “help” but it came out a sandpaper rasp and rose into a high-pitched whimper of pain.