Thread: Legends of Second Earth: Age of Strife

It's always my fight! Borkul shouted a smirk on his face as he stood there, when he heard the man say kill them he was actually surprised. The guards going to such an extent... But then again High Elf morals and standards would seem extreme to other races. By instinct alone Brokul's armor would start to sprout from his belt, the set of lighter armor soon spreading out over his form as he brought his hand up with the two powder balls in them.. However what came as a shock to even the Half-Orc was the sudden pelting of projectiles. Guards left and right were falling to their knees either dead or severely wounded. This causing that first distraction that the powder bombs were suppose to cause. The Half-Orc was set on striking now but was stopped in his steps by a sudden kiss to the cheek. What was this Dark Elf doing!? Now wasn't the time for affections! Now was the time for sweet battle! She was quick, very quick, and as if in one fluid motion of giving him a kiss on the cheek the woman had dropped a powder bomb suddenly a large explosion of pitch black smoke erupted. Borkul would use his in a different manner, remembering where this leader of the crusaders were he would chuck one of his powder bombs towards him, unknowing that the Dark Elf had thrown a guard towards Elis. Maybe Borkul's strike would of sliced through Elis if not for the guard that had fallen into him, but within the cloak of darkness he would unsheath his cleaver, bringing it down hard into flesh armor. But just as quickly as he had struck he was being pulled back, eyes wide as he got ready to turn and swing at whoever was grabbing hold of him... Only to find it to be the Dark Elf Woman that had gotten herself into this fine mess. Borkul's armor would clank softly with each accelerated step, favoring full on sprinting his armor would retract back into the belt, Borkul now in his normal clothing as he followed after the Dark Elf by the hand. It was somewhat menacing though to look at, what with the Half-Orc being pulled along by an Dark Elf all the while holding a frieghtening cleaver in his hand. But before anyone could really dwell on the scene, or the utter carrnage that the two had run from, this Dark Elf had found a place to hide, quick to pull Borkul in before closing it up to look like it had been just moments before. At first Borkul wasn't sure what to expect, cleaver still out as he looked to the woman who was doing the right thing by scoping out what was going on outside. There was commotion yes, but the crowds continued to shift. Anyone that had seen the two enter this house would of moved on, at least with the citizens anyways. It was around the time that the Dark Elf covered her face in her hands that Borkul would sheath his weapon, an eyebrow raised slightly to hear her apologizing. She was sorry for running? That was usually a flaw or guilt that Half-Orcs felt, never run from battle, always see it to your enemies end or your own. But then wouldn't that mean Borkul had gone against his own code? Well it was code he had lived by while in the Wastelands, but now? It was much more important to survive. When she spoke of the guardian friend Borkul would nod slightly, I thought he might be with you. Hell it could have been Jaen if the old codger gave a rats ass anymore about someone other then himself. Borkul stated, talking of course about the Dark Elf Blacksmith in town. But he didn't expect every single person to know Jaen. Take you in? I saw the look in that one High Elves eyes. If he didn't kill you in those streets he would of killed you in prison. Borkul said, now crossing his arms as he was more interested in this woman then the events that were going on outside. What got you in such issues with the guards of Nerys? He asked, the least she could do was answer his question right? Then again she had effectively returned the favor by pulling him out of the growing fight and into hiding so they were even on the saving ones life part.