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<blockquote data-quote="Iron Sky" data-source="post: 5651361" data-attributes="member: 60965"><p><strong>Edge of the Verdant Belt, Balic Territory</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p>Varkan motioned for the others to drop. Jarsin glared at him, but Varkan just motioned down the dune.</p><p></p><p>"Brother, I saw movement in the siltstorm," Varkan said.</p><p></p><p>"How could you see anything in-" Jarsin started to say, but stopped as he heard a loud <em>snort</em> from the base of the dune.</p><p></p><p>Varkan readied a javelin, squinting into the swirling, stinging silt until a crodlu-mounted form became visible.</p><p></p><p><em>Anyone out here in this is after us</em>, he thought. <em>Or stupidly unlucky. Either way, them or us.</em></p><p></p><p>He loosed his javelin and the form grunted and doubled over, landing heavily on the broken earth at the base of the dune.</p><p></p><p>Before the body had even come to rest, several more vague figures appeared, rushing towards the side of the dune with the easiest slope. The one in the lead - a large man with the mien of a gladiator - ducked and dodged the javelins Varkan and Jarsin threw, roaring as he rushed up the slope towards where Hars and Zurtch were hidden.</p><p></p><p>Hars leapt from hiding and connected with his spear as the roaring gladiator parried Zurtch's spear with a sweep of bone sickles. The gladiator spun and buried one of the weapons in Hars' shoulder.</p><p></p><p>Hars wrenched himself free with a gasp just as another figure suddenly materialized, wrapped in swirling shadow, a slender sword flaring with unholy light just before it buried deep in Hars' side.</p><p></p><p>Vysal - Hars' best friend - roared in response and abandoned his hiding place near Jarsin at the top of the dune and rushed towards the fray.</p><p></p><p>At that moment, the silt storm intensified, blinding Varkan to what was going on down the sandy slope. He closed his eyes as the hurling grit bit into his skin. When it had abated slightly, there were three foes engaging Hars and Zurch, a huge mul with an long-hafted axe now beside the shadowy figure with the gleaming sword, arcane runes swirling in the air about them.</p><p></p><p>"Magic!" Varkan shouted, biting back panic. "Kill the mul, kill the swordsman!"</p><p></p><p>He and Jarsin threw as one, their javelins both striking the mul. The mul staggered, snarled, and wrenched the javelins free.</p><p></p><p>Their foes retaliated by teaming up on Hars, the gladiator planting one sickle in Hars' leg and another in his arm, leaving Hars open to the one with the glowing sword. The sword didn't seem to penetrate very deeply before Vysal stepped in, allowing Hars to break free and stagger back towards Varkan.</p><p></p><p>Varken saw Hars' face clearly in spite of the storm, watching in horror as the half-elf raider's veins bulged out in his face and darkened, the whites of his eyes turning inky black as he toppled over.</p><p></p><p>The swordsman stepped over Hars, the swirling shadows fading to reveal a young man in heavy chitin armor. A slight smile played across his lips as he walked up the hill towards Varkan, tendrils of dark power swirling amidst flares of light along the razor-sharp bone of his sword.</p><p></p><p>Varkan shuddered as he saw the death in those eyes, readying his javelin and turning to call to Ghrys, only to see the last man of their band charging a fourth of the foes: a slender, cloaked figure that was sneaking up the side of the dune.</p><p></p><p>The storm intensified again and, when Varkan could see clearly again, the mul was there, drawing a suddenly flaming axe from Ghrys' back, runes tracing themselves into the sand at the mul's feet as Ghrys fell lifeless at the mul's feet.</p><p></p><p>Varkan threw his javelin towards the mul and Jarsin did the same, turning back in time to see Zurch drive his spear into the leg of the gladiator. The huge man grunted, broke the spear, yanked the tip from his leg, and slammed it into Zurch's neck even as Vysal was slowly driven up the hill, slipping backwards in the sand as the young swordsman pressed him.</p><p></p><p>A moment later, Vysal too lay in the sands, the young man with the glowing sword and the mul blasting Jarsin with arcs of black energy from their hands as they approached. Jarsin staggered and threw his last javelin at the swordsman, embedding it the young man's thick armor while Varkan dropped the gladiator in his tracks with a well-placed javelin just as the man came roaring across the top of the dune.</p><p></p><p>"Think we can take the last ones, brother?" he said, backing towards Jarsin, ready to make their stand against the approaching mul and swordsman. </p><p></p><p>Jarsin fell against his back.</p><p></p><p>Varkan glanced down to see a small feathered dart sticking out of Jarsin's throat, the skin into which it stuck blackening and swelling grotesquely as he watched.</p><p></p><p>He roared in anger as his brother died at his feet, drew his long bone knife, and charged, ready to take the sorcerous demons to hell with him.</p><p></p><p>Seconds later, he lay in the sand looking at his brother's swollen face and staring, empty eyes, his own blood seeping into the thirsty sands...</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Iron Sky, post: 5651361, member: 60965"] [B]Edge of the Verdant Belt, Balic Territory [/B] Varkan motioned for the others to drop. Jarsin glared at him, but Varkan just motioned down the dune. "Brother, I saw movement in the siltstorm," Varkan said. "How could you see anything in-" Jarsin started to say, but stopped as he heard a loud [I]snort[/I] from the base of the dune. Varkan readied a javelin, squinting into the swirling, stinging silt until a crodlu-mounted form became visible. [I]Anyone out here in this is after us[/I], he thought. [I]Or stupidly unlucky. Either way, them or us.[/I] He loosed his javelin and the form grunted and doubled over, landing heavily on the broken earth at the base of the dune. Before the body had even come to rest, several more vague figures appeared, rushing towards the side of the dune with the easiest slope. The one in the lead - a large man with the mien of a gladiator - ducked and dodged the javelins Varkan and Jarsin threw, roaring as he rushed up the slope towards where Hars and Zurtch were hidden. Hars leapt from hiding and connected with his spear as the roaring gladiator parried Zurtch's spear with a sweep of bone sickles. The gladiator spun and buried one of the weapons in Hars' shoulder. Hars wrenched himself free with a gasp just as another figure suddenly materialized, wrapped in swirling shadow, a slender sword flaring with unholy light just before it buried deep in Hars' side. Vysal - Hars' best friend - roared in response and abandoned his hiding place near Jarsin at the top of the dune and rushed towards the fray. At that moment, the silt storm intensified, blinding Varkan to what was going on down the sandy slope. He closed his eyes as the hurling grit bit into his skin. When it had abated slightly, there were three foes engaging Hars and Zurch, a huge mul with an long-hafted axe now beside the shadowy figure with the gleaming sword, arcane runes swirling in the air about them. "Magic!" Varkan shouted, biting back panic. "Kill the mul, kill the swordsman!" He and Jarsin threw as one, their javelins both striking the mul. The mul staggered, snarled, and wrenched the javelins free. Their foes retaliated by teaming up on Hars, the gladiator planting one sickle in Hars' leg and another in his arm, leaving Hars open to the one with the glowing sword. The sword didn't seem to penetrate very deeply before Vysal stepped in, allowing Hars to break free and stagger back towards Varkan. Varken saw Hars' face clearly in spite of the storm, watching in horror as the half-elf raider's veins bulged out in his face and darkened, the whites of his eyes turning inky black as he toppled over. The swordsman stepped over Hars, the swirling shadows fading to reveal a young man in heavy chitin armor. A slight smile played across his lips as he walked up the hill towards Varkan, tendrils of dark power swirling amidst flares of light along the razor-sharp bone of his sword. Varkan shuddered as he saw the death in those eyes, readying his javelin and turning to call to Ghrys, only to see the last man of their band charging a fourth of the foes: a slender, cloaked figure that was sneaking up the side of the dune. The storm intensified again and, when Varkan could see clearly again, the mul was there, drawing a suddenly flaming axe from Ghrys' back, runes tracing themselves into the sand at the mul's feet as Ghrys fell lifeless at the mul's feet. Varkan threw his javelin towards the mul and Jarsin did the same, turning back in time to see Zurch drive his spear into the leg of the gladiator. The huge man grunted, broke the spear, yanked the tip from his leg, and slammed it into Zurch's neck even as Vysal was slowly driven up the hill, slipping backwards in the sand as the young swordsman pressed him. A moment later, Vysal too lay in the sands, the young man with the glowing sword and the mul blasting Jarsin with arcs of black energy from their hands as they approached. Jarsin staggered and threw his last javelin at the swordsman, embedding it the young man's thick armor while Varkan dropped the gladiator in his tracks with a well-placed javelin just as the man came roaring across the top of the dune. "Think we can take the last ones, brother?" he said, backing towards Jarsin, ready to make their stand against the approaching mul and swordsman. Jarsin fell against his back. Varkan glanced down to see a small feathered dart sticking out of Jarsin's throat, the skin into which it stuck blackening and swelling grotesquely as he watched. He roared in anger as his brother died at his feet, drew his long bone knife, and charged, ready to take the sorcerous demons to hell with him. Seconds later, he lay in the sand looking at his brother's swollen face and staring, empty eyes, his own blood seeping into the thirsty sands... [/QUOTE]
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