Ravaged.

[GDPR 014 48]

 

   

 

     The Alchemist plants his walking staff against the dirt and grass. He looks up and takes in the night air, a grin behind his faceplate as he saw the twinkling stars, albeit slightly obscured by the forest’s trees and the occasional bio-luminescence some of the woodland creatures gave off. He was fascinated by these, intrigued by life and its mechanics, as much clockwork and discovery; an inventive and gentle soul, perhaps marred by past doings.

 

    Taking in the sights as he walked through the forest, listening to the chattering of its creatures and the sound of his own equipment shifting on his person. For wanting to collect a species of herbs, he came armed; a safety measure. After shifting through the various tall grasses and shrubbery, he found a clearing; a small pool of water with a patch of glowing blue flowers, complemented by the night and reflecting dark blue of the water. He had to look around not once, nor twice, but five times to make sure he was safe and well to approach, urged by caution -- or perhaps something more.

 

“Can never be too safe” he thought while approaching the glowing flora, slowly slipping out a jar and small, bladed shovel to do his work, letting his staff rest nearby. His boots sloshed in the water, though the wax treatment helped keep them dry. He was shin deep as he got close enough, uncorking and latching the jar to his front, his shovel adeptly excavating the luminescent plants by their roots. He placed them in the jar, adding some of the water to keep it healthy for the while. Securing it, he thought to use the flowers  as torchlight for his venture home; a safe venture impeded.

 

     He heard the snap of something breaking his walking stick, and looming shadows from the pool, only afforded by the light of the flora. If he did not spot it in time, he would have taken a fatal blow. Starting a side roll as a large, spined arm slammed into his side, sending him tumbling and splashing against the pool, landing on the very edge. He groaned and was taken aback by the sharp pain from his ribs. Thankfully his coat was designed to protect him, and stopped the spines from digging into his skin, as well as the force from breaking his bones. He slowly shifted to a knee, narrowly avoiding a blow from another of the vile things. Water splashed onto the ground from his attire, his faceplate shifted to get a better look at the fiends; demonic creatures, some meek and others hulking.

 

     With a flash, he pulled his shortsword from its sheath, and his single-handed crossbow device. He managed to come to a stand as a single foe lashed out; a smaller thing that met steel. Cut through with a flourish, the device whirring as the limbs arched back in the barrel via actioning the firing crank, opening up its breech as well. They approached, tactics akin to a pack of wolves; watching and waiting for an opening as the alchemist, Klaus, slipped a bolt inside and shut the breech. The dance was long and silent, each sizing one another up; a typical thing for beasts and men to do when in these situations. “I cannot give them more of an advantage. In a bad spot.”

 

    His crossbow wielding arm sprang out as a bolt swiftly discharged into the larger fiend, digging into, but not fully shredding, the beast’s chest. It cried out, with the Alchemist darting to the side; his coat’s hems swaying with his surge and the actioning of his crossbow; the blade flashing in the night as it cut through one of the little creatures, though it provoked an attack; three of the beasts leaped up and jumped on the Alchemist, clawing and raking. They slashed the faceplate, and winded him with blows and kicks. He tried to pull them off, albeit slowed by their struggling. Another powerful blow from the larger beast connected with his chest, and sent him against the ground in a heap. Gagging and gasping for air, he struggled to grab his blade, with his crossbow tossed to the side.

 

     While the blow hurt him pretty bad, it did the same for the smaller things. Although he was weakened, it only took mere stabs to take out the smaller demons. He lifted himself, freehand clutching his chest. He coughed and wheezed, though stared down the creature of the night, locking with its orange eyes, though he kept some of the smaller fiends in sight.

 

     Without warning, it surged towards him in a charge. On all fours, it was fast. He had to think fast, the wind whistling through his coat as he made another evasive dodge, though one of its massive claws swiped out, carving some of the coat’s layers, exposing some treated fabric and gel near the bottom layer, with the spine of the arm raking some more. Klaus huffed, energy waning. The smaller beats followed suit, diving in for the Alchemist, his sword slashing out to carve through two of them, but one of the remaining dug its teeth into his shoulder, hampered by the fabric, and the last grappled with his torn coat’s side, flailing. He winced, though in this moment, his free hand forced the grappling imp on the ground, with his boot smashing its face, kicking some of the gore at the large, approaching beast to disorient it.  It worked, and he was able to shift to the side, though the remaining creature maneuvered to his arm and landed two harsh kicks with the side of his head.

 

    Klaus recoiled, dazed by the blow, brought back by the harsh pain of the creature’s claws tearing at the lower of his arm. With a yelp, he fell into the ground, dropping the shortsword to haggardly reclaim and stab through the smaller one’s head. He couldn’t do much from this position. The hulking monstrosity took the opportunity; the last of its pack loomed over Klaus. “Is this how I die? Killed by some ******* beast?” He didn’t struggle for a moment, perhaps content, though as it stretched out its disgusting mouth and flashed its gruesome teeth, second wing coursed through the exhausted man.

 

     Its head lashed out to tear his face, but he sprung his free arm forward to block the strike, teeth tearing straight through the forearm and force shattering bone. He cried out in absolute agony, though dulled fighting spirit. It pulled and pulled, and the alchemist could feel the flesh tearing and bone crumpling. Tears welled up from under the clawed faceplate, and a sputter as he stabbed the shortsword into its neck, though it wasn’t deep enough, and the thing tore off his forearm.

 

     Shock hit him, his ravaged arm against the ground, what bone and sinew remained became matted by what remained of the protective fabric. The moments were filled with the sound of the beast crunching on the forearm, and his own groans. He tried to stand, he tried to run, but he could only stagger; his legs threatening to fail him. The beast approached, and Klaus glanced to the side to see it coming, as it moved in to grapple him, that burst of energy came over him again; he moved in, claws raking the back of his coat his his good hand affirmed the grasp on the shortsword, and with a scream -- he pushed the sword fully into its neck.

 

The beast sputtered, though it was drowned out by flowing blood as the man tore the shortsword from its neck, blood and flesh pouring.

 

”My name is Klaus of ******* Heldenburg-” He panted out, dropping to a knee; exasperated as he primed the bloodied sword for the creature.

 

”And I ain’t ever lost a fuckin’ fight, not to creature.” The sword tore into its eye and pierced its brain, the thing spasming before crumpling over. He tore his sword, blood splattered against the soil as he planted it into the ground. Slumped against the large body, he tears a bottle from his satchel, uncorking it and pouring the blue paste over his torn arm. Exposed to the air, it expanded into a gel-like substance, acting as a temporary clot for such a horrible wound, though blood still flowed, albeit slight. Droplets of blood followed him as he trudged out of the forest, thankfully picking up his equipment, and the light of the stars guided him in his delirious and exhausted state.

 

 

---

 

    He managed to get home, dead at night where barely any saw him. His vision too narrow to see their reactions to his brutalized state, clutching his wounded arm, and drenched in blood. He entered his home, and as his vision darkened, he clawed wildly for an orange vial in a nearby cabinet. Finding it and tearing off his faceplate, he quickly downed it; vision restored as waning stamina was renewed. He took a few of the vials, and trudged into the depths of his laboratory.

 

    It took hours, and more of those elixirs to keep him awake as he treated the arm and tinkered away with what he had. Alloy, fluid, and vessels made into a replacement, although unfinished due to the delirium and effects of the elixirs. He was only able to attach the incomplete blood drenched prosthetic before his consciousness failed him. He was asleep for a while, the body having to recover from the potions use, but when he awoke, he looked down at the replacement; the blood covered prosthetic, and worked out to finish its design.

 

    After some fixing, it was good for practical use. His mind and body still foreign to this mechanical thing.

 

 

    For those brave enough to venture the woodlands, they would find the bodies of the creatures were gone, perhaps reclaimed by the Alchemist.

[Kanadensare 456]

(very good RP post 10/10 +1 rep yes)

[osumanduas 1442]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.