Thread: Start of Darkness

Well, it's been forever and a day since I touched this, but... new installment! Ktonos, by virtue of winning the grand melee, was now the rising star in the class. Defiant of tradition, he would no longer carry a seconod blade into a fight. Both hands on the hilt of his bastard sword, he was rapidly showing that he was a force to be reckoned with in a fight. More than a few of his class mates were forced out of training for days at a time from injuries that he delivered. Even enchanted to not deliver a lethal wound, Ktonos had found was to subvert this, using his pommel to great effect, or even just his bare hands. He seemed to not be content with a fight unless it ended with blood on his hands, his own or someone elses. And it was drawing mroe concern from the Weapon Master. The boy is costing us recruits. He said clearly to the other instructors. Hardly. They don't die, save for the one that seems to have been planted to remove him. And who might have ordered that? The smirk on the instructors face made the Weapon Master want to swing at him, but he knew it would accomplish little. So he did the least expected thing possible. It's no real secret. Of course I planted someone to remove him. He had to be tested. He would either rise to it, or be killed and he would not have been worth the effort. The moment of stunned silence filled the air. To hear someone openly admit to a failed plot was rare in the extreme. Now, shall I assume that there will be no agreement to remove him? No one spoke. Very well then, I stand rebuked. But should we not prepare them for a foray into the wilds? The orcs are pressing the borders in scouting teams. Having our people move out to engage them would be good for seasoning, and push the orcs back a little. Agreed. As the head of the class, Ktonos will have a squad to lead. We'll see if he is more than just a butcher. The Weapons master nodded. He felt he already knew the answer to this. Ktonos moved through the armoury. As the leader of a squad, and head of hte class now, the choice of weapons was his. These were not training weapons, all of these had been forged out my master artisans, dread runes graven on them, all of them promising death and pain to their foes. Ktonos passed over the longswords right away, knowing that nothing that small would suit him again. There was a moment of hesitation as he passed a small rack that held axes. While they had mass, he missed the reach. He kept going. He smiled as he saw a pair of bastard sword, very much like the one he used in training, but his eye caught one last blade. It was longer still than the bastard swords, and swept out in a long, elegant curve. The metal was not black like the others in the room, but a light blue tinged silver. The markings on it didn't look to be any form of Drow that Ktonos had ever seen, and there was a ruby set into the pommel. Ktonos lifted the blade. It was far lighter in his hands than he'd expected, and mvoed through the air with barely a whisper. He shifted his weight, adn swept the blade through a few passes. It felt perfect in his hands, more so than any other weapon had. He pulled the harness from the shelf, and strapped the weapon on over the armour he'd been issued. The blade was sheathed a moment later, and he took his leave of the armoury. He was ready to hunt now. The wilds were dark. No light leaked into the lands outside of the city, and there were very few points these days that could be left from. Neither Drow nor orc needed light, so the hunters could very easily become the hunted. Ktonos led his squad of nine other Drow easily inot the terrain. Freed from the watching eyes of the instructors, Ktonos felt a little more free in that moment than he had in years. The squad ghosted through the wide tunnels that led to teh city, pushing farther out, and keeping an eye out for any signs of the enemy. Ktonos frowned, thinking back to the briefing that they'd been given about the terrain, and finding that thigns were not as they'd been told. he moved to a wall, and run a hand along the stone. there were chips in it, marks that showed it had been worked on by metal tools. The orcs were doing something out here, something more than simply scouting. The tunnel was wider, much more open with no real cover anymore. Ktonos had the dawning realization that the Orcs were preparing the ground to meet the Drow on, making it as favourble to them as they could manage, letting them bring numbers to bear. If the Drow sallied out in force, it would be a slaughter if the orcs could put numbers in the field like last time. Ktonos noted this for later, knowing that he was not going back until his task was completed. And that task was to butcher a patrol of orcs. The squad kept moving, going deeper into the Wilds, Ktonos sparing no thought as to how far they'd gone. No patrols were out here, and that made him wonder as well. Did the orcs not wish to control the area? As he kept moving, he froze, raising a hand to halt his squad. He shifted his foot, tapping his armoured toe lightly, and listening. There was a faintly hollow sound, and he crouched, running his fingers along the stone until he found what he'd been looking for. A faint seam. He drew out a knife, and dug at the seam, digging at it until he had a space to put his fingers, and pull. The stone resisted for a moment, and then started to rise. Then the stone flew up, and Ktonos stumbled back, and the air was shaken with the bellow of an oncoming orc. Ktonos leapt back from the coming foe, his eyes picking out details of his foe. Much larger than him, but not one of the heavy warriors. This one was clad in hides, and carried a heavy cleaver blade. Ktonos knew he was outweighed by nearly five stone of weight, and that also meant he was likely outclassed in strength as well. Their reach was close with the longer blade Ktonos bore, so he knew he was going to have to rely on speed and skill, hoping he was the better in these regards. When the orc swung at him, it was a wide, clumsy blow, and Ktonos exploded forward, ducking under the strike, and bringing his blade up as he moved past the foe. There was a blur of motion as Ktonos whipped his blade around in a swift motion that pruned the arm off of the orc, bringing the enemy weapon out of play, and then Ktonos swung one last time, the honed edge of the sword taking his foe across the neck, slitting his throat. The beast toppled to the ground, Ktonos stared, his eyes picking out the hot flow of blood from the neck of the orc, and he leaned down without thinking, running his fingers through the liquid before stripping off his glove in annoyance. He let out a slow breath as his fingers felt the hot rush of blood on his skin. He lifted it to his tongue, tasting the bitter, acrid flavour that the orc blood contained. His head still swam at the sensation, tasting life there, the essence of a living thing, being snuffed out by his actions. This was strength, power, something that he'd discovered might be impossible to go without. What was more, the rush of sensation blotted out any other concerns from his mind. He opened his eyes, looking at the place the orc had been hidden in. It was well carved, not something normally thought of as orcish work. And what was more, Ktonos could see that there was a tunnel wide enough for a single orc to travel through leading from it. His eyes widened. The orcs weren't just widening the tunnels. They were digging a new one to break into the city. He knew that this had to be relayed, but he held the heavy thump of stone slabs being pushed aside, and turned to see more orcs emerging from the ground. To me! Ktonos shouted, raising his sword, and his squad leapt into surprised action. Ktonos kept them close, making a tight unit for the orcs to come at, not letting them seperate the Drow apart. The orcs came at them readily, and the Drow began a slow withdrawl, fighting every step fot he way. Ktonos had the squad move in such a way to make their ring rotate as they moved, making sure that the orcs couldn't focus on any one foe, letting the Drow exploit any openings. Ktonos parried a blow directly, sweeping it aside from him, and reversing the stroke to cleave an arm off. He swept the blade down, taking the other arm as well, and kicking the orc back into his comrades, leaving him to bleed out. The rest of the squad fought with surgical precision, clean stabs to neck or heart, no wasted motion, exactly like they had been trained. Ktonos was reveling in the fight, every swing taking a limb off, letting the raoring brute die slowly compared to their comrades, using that to spread fear and apprehension among the orcs. A particularly precise sweep of his blade laid the the throat of an orc open, and the spray of shed blood hit Ktonos in the face and chest, nearly covering him in the fluid. He shivered, licking his lips, the taste and feeling spurring him on to greater adn faster movements, shifting his position to attack two foes at a time now. The orcs could not sustain their momentum, and broke away from the ring of lethal Drow. More than thirty of their number lay dead across a stretch of ground, and those that Ktonos had slain had pumped their lifeblood onto the stone. The city was slightly downhill, and it had made a small stream or gore. Ktonos realized he stood with both feet int he middle of it, and smiled. He threw his head back and gave a roar of laughter, one that seemed to chase the orcs farther down the tunnel. His squad was silent, not sure what to make of their leader in this case. He'd maintained his control, given good tactical orders, and gotten them all out alive. But here he stood, half covered in gore, and laughing at the devastation he had wrought. When the laughter subsided, he turned back to them. Well done. Now, we make our way home. We've much to report. He grinned at these words, and those closest could see that the blood had stained his teeth crimson. What kind of warrior were they witnessing being made?