A Hexer's Concern

[lawnmowerman 3040]

Music

 

A gangly figure strode down an eerie path leading to Summerhall, bloodshot orbs sparkling with anticipation and anxiousness. The recent ambush caused by two inhumanly strong creatures outside the various carts of the Orenian capital had given the hexer some perturbence, and the it had to be dealt with. A low mumble was heard beneath his foul stenched breath, hands swayed at his sides as he ambled after the road.

 

“How do you kill them, Rheinallt?”

 

“You need to demand pay.”

 

“Bah, pay? He’s saving lives, I don’t think he cares about pay.”

 

“**** the lives, he’s throwing his own out there, shouldn’t be doing it for nothing.”

 

The hexer continued on his way, wincing at the voices, his left leg dragged obscurely after his frame, tips of his digits brushing over the gash settled on his thigh as he aimlessly walked.

 

“Skreeeeeee!”

 

His ears perked up at the vehement screech that emitted not too far from him, an equally violent grasp settled around his aurum blade’s hilt.

 

Music

 

Three harpies remained crowded alongside a bloodied, rotting carcass of simple cattle, it’s herd seen in the nearby distance. Their maws were soaked with crimson liquid, droplets of said color plopping fluidly ‘pon the greening grass.

 

“Great, just what I need.”

 

The Marked Man drawled out, before he approached the trio, a fox pendant dangling from his slender, pale neck. His wrist flicked upwards, freeing the aurum blade from it’s worn scabbard, settling by Rheinallt’s side. His grizzled, windswept hair kept in a wobbly tail was blown ghostily to the side. The two fiends nipping at the corpse would take notice of the man, one of them bouncing off it’s feet and taking flight, hovering around the witcher in circles, whereas the other desperately lunged at the readied marked man, only to be met with a slash, a swing, and a cleaved off cranium.

 

“SKREEEEEEEEEEE!”

 

. . .

 

“SKRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!”

 

The screams and cries were heard anew as the harpies kept on levitating ‘round the Marked Man’s slender figure, one diving it’s nimble, skeletal body downwards, sending a hand to claw at his already scarred visage. The blood-covered sword would strike viciously at the harpy’s limb, chopping it off the floating creature’s frame, allowing it to crash into the ground, as it’d let repetitive cries of pain leave it’s mouth.

 

The last harpy dug it’s talons into the hexer’s shoulders as he finished off the battered monster that had plowed itself into the path, lifting him a few inches up before losing its’ grasp as it’s knees were slashed at, a cringe-filled howl bursting through the area.

The triad of harpies laid limp on the ground, blood and gore splattered over the once clean road, a hitched, tense breath escaping the hexer’s lips before he started to march down the path once more.

[Anderssn 1115]

2 hours ago, Guck said:

 

“REEEEEEEEEEE!”

 

 

[Birdnerdy 1539]

(snip) 

[tilly 5115]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.