Old September 28, 2016, 02:15 PM   #16 (permalink)
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It was absolute carnage. There was a paralysed man, covered in gadgets spread out on the ground, screaming in pain. An ogre, amidst a circle of stones and blood, bodies charging at him. One emotional wreck of a warrior, rushing a monster that had killed his friend. A half-human half-jolo shaman who prepared for his next attack and a wave of zombies slowly encroaching.

What a mess.

And, the scenario meant an awful lot of stress. Especially, as Bones attempted his curse. The sight of Doylen stumbling forward, but continuing his attack was a clear indication that everything hadn't gone to plan. Doylen threw a dagger towards the ogre before continuing his bedraggled attack. It seemed he'd lost most of the use of his left side, but he continued to follow his thrown dagger forward.

The dagger embedded itself in Bones thigh, just above the knee. A hit, but the thick hide meant no real damage caused. And, as Doylen moved forward, he was propelled out of the circle and into the horde of the undead. His screams of agony were devoured.

Bones was winning. But at that a hefty weight connected to his back. And a mass of zombies pushed towards him.

A real mass.

He was winning. But, it was getting tougher. Poor Bones.
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Old October 12, 2016, 09:16 AM   #17 (permalink)
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The curse had failed, or at least didn't have its full force. Instead of slumping, the approaching warrior slowed down but still found the strength to throw his knife at Bones. His attention on a counter attack, the ogre failed to move aside and was forced to accept the wound in his leg. He flinched despite the fact that no serious harm had been done.

The man was sent flying through the air, and Bones briefly allowed his eyes to follow the trajectory. The undead would finish what he'd begun, and in the end there would most likely be very little left of the warrior. Behind his fiendish mask, the corners of Bones' mouth curved upwards. That is, until someone or something crashed into him from behind.

"Whaaat?" the ogre bellowed in his native tongue.

Then he turned, lifting his club and getting his guard up. With two adventurers dealt with, it was time to turn his attention to his surroundings. Inside the circle, the shaman provided the largest threat, but Bones did not rule out the moving mass of undead that was breaching the perimeter. Slow as they were, they made up for that fault by sheer numbers.

Fight or flight?

His ogre instinct told him to throw everything he had at the shaman, but Bones hesitated. The memories of being pummeled by a single human were still fresh; the lesson he'd learnt was that raw power wasn't always the answer. A tactical retreat then, if at all possible. Back over the wall was the most logical escape, now that the undead had claimed the only exit. First, he needed a distraction so that the shaman wouldn't drag him down and let the both of them perish in a sea of decaying flesh.

Using his free hand, Bones knelt down and grapped the fallen bowman by the neck and proceeded to throw the corpse full force towards the tusked giant. Then he mounted the wall and climbed over it.
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Old October 15, 2016, 03:13 AM   #18 (permalink)
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He launched poor Eric into the throng, like a bowling ball down an alley, knocking undead skittles that had separated the two, with broken limbs, in all directions.

"Wait! Help me up." The shaman shouted, as Bones clambered upon the wall of stone. The whole ring was totally encircled by the dead on all sides, so thick it would even be trouble for an ogre to bulldoze its way through.

Bones was in relative safety, but with an ocean of gnashing jaws around him, for how long? Meanwhile, the dead body of Eric could be seen among a pile of carcasses, not yet converted to the walking dead army. And, the shaman stood, back to the wall, thumping away enemies but slowly being pressed back and overwhelmed.

The pickings were starting to look slim.
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Old October 25, 2016, 03:14 AM   #19 (permalink)
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There was no time to lose, but still Bones hesitated as he perched upon the wall and looked back at the shaman. His first reaction was that the human was a traitor who had left the ogre to fend for himself outside the stone circle; his second, perhaps more rational, thought was that two large bodies had a better chance at survival when escaping from the mass of undead that now surrounded them. The shaman was a risk, but considering his options, it was the lesser of two evils.

He extended a muscular arm, yet remained vigilant for deceit. "Human strong. Together escape." It was the gist of what the ogre felt. He was pragmatic in regarding his options, and despite his animosity had gained a certain degree of respect for the tusked warrior. Any sign of betrayal, however, and he would use his club for quick vengeance.
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Old October 28, 2016, 02:50 PM   #20 (permalink)
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A Friend

... and so, the sea of gnashing jaws and broken nails swarmed a panicked shaman, his features now having reverted back to their original shape. But, fortune, on this brightening, favoured him, as he was hoisted out of the way.

However, being rescued by a greater evil was not necessarily a blessing. A look of fear, the edges of it fought back by pride, glistened on the shaman's face. He eyeballed the ogre without threat, nodding gently to the statement. "Why? Why did you kill them? We were going to help you..." His voice trembled as he looked below; a low drone undercut every other sound. It seemed they were trapped. However, if Bones looked attentively enough, he'd notice the half eaten, yet still intact body of Doylen. "What are you doing here? You don't realise how much trouble you've caused..." There was no thought on the ogre's grasp of the common tongue.

The two sat atop a ring of stones, gossiping like old school friends. Very civil.
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Old October 31, 2016, 05:34 AM   #21 (permalink)
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To his unmeasurable dismay, the large and powerful shaman reverted back to his original shape. Which was unfortunate, especially for the the human who now sat besides a hulk of an ogre. From behind his steel mask, Bones regarded the human, and scowled. Through the slits of the mask, the human would see his large eyes harden. By turning back into his weaker form, the human had changed the terms and conditions of the offer that Bones had extended.

"Bones come to help. Humans hide inside stones, but leave Bones outside. Betrayal!" If the shaman knew anything of ogres, or orcs or that matter, he knew that strength was everything. By hiding, the adventurers had portrayed themselves as weaklings. By leaving the ogre to deal with the undead, they'd lost his respect. Since Bones had had equal regard for the humans and the mass of zombies, who had strength in numbers and an admirable force of will, their actions had caused his loyalty to shift.

And now there was only a single one left, speaking of trouble. Bones simply grunted in response as he considered his options. The fellow besides him was small again. Puny. They could have barged through the sea of undead together, but the human had failed him once again. There was still a purpose for him to fulfil, but it wasn't the one that the necromancer had considered when he'd helped the other up. Taking a deep breath, watching the shaman intently, before making sure that he knew which direction he'd originally come from.

"Your strength is gone. That was not our deal, tusked man." The words were spoken in ogrish.

He shoved the shaman forward, off the ledge and down into the mass of grasping arms. That was the distraction required, and Bones waited until the undead had fully taken notice of their new prey. "Weak," he concluded, before rising and launching himself off the ledge in a slightly different direction and cannonballing into whichever beings were unfortunate enough to break his fall. Once on the ground, he ran while his club took care of those blocking his path to freedom.
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Old November 4, 2016, 11:12 AM   #22 (permalink)
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The thing with shamans; they could change at will. If they practiced a technique, they could pull it out of the bag in an instant. And, unfortunately for the brute, this shaman had a reason to transform regularly. He was the muscle. He was the labour of his troupe. And, in that moment that Bones would shove him - maybe, a little predictable - his forearms tripled in girth amidst screams of pain. A transformation so fast was never without agony.

And those arms, with muscles like rope, gripped Bones and dragged him down into the head of teeth and jagged nails.

It was easy to rely on strength. But, when that strength was matched, one had to get wile. The shaman, prepared for the fall, tumbled and then was on his feet, barrelling through zombies on his way out of the ring. "We could have gone together..." he screamed, as he battered the undead tide. And, as they clambered to their feet, the easiest target was a massive ogre on his back.

The sea swarmed, sinking teeth into flesh.
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Old November 17, 2016, 02:46 AM   #23 (permalink)
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The pleasure he derived from the quick shifting of the shaman, and the power it conveyed, was shortlived as the ogre's plan backfired. Still, there was no time for regret, nor did regret serve any purpose. Bones had made his decision and stood by it; the consequences were his to deal with.

He landed gracelessly on the hard ground below the wall, and ignored the shaman's words. There were more pressing issues to deal with. Lying on his back, his options were limited. Not for the first time, he was thankful for the protection his leather armour provided to his vitals. He hoped that the zombies did not wield blades or spears, for that indeed could make this struggle a brief one. His thick skin could only repel shallow punctures.

Gripping his club tightly, the ogre bent his knees and planted his feet on the ground. Swinging his weapon in circles above his prone body, he took sideways steps. For an outsider, he would like a strange turtle on its back, moving in circles while swatting at those who attacked him. It was important to make some room, he knew, if only for a moment. He needed to get back onto his feet.
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Old November 19, 2016, 12:14 PM   #24 (permalink)
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Bones' ploy achieved some ground; a little breathing space. Unarmed undead toppled and tumbled, losing limbs and whatever else the ogre hit. However, while he'd opened up the area, the horde who could simply clambered to their rotting feet and pressed the attack again. But, for now, he had a few meters to play with.

Above the dismal sound of zombies came the roar of fight, trailing the direction the shaman had fled. On that path of retreat, the waves were thinned slightly.

But then, from less than a mile out came the deep, unmistakable tune of a war horn, followed by an increasing drumbeat, which closed at an almighty pace.

The terrific sounds came from the east. And, a panicked, shamanic scream responded moving west.
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Old November 21, 2016, 08:55 AM   #25 (permalink)
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He was bulky and rigid, but luckily the zombies were slow by nature. Bones performed his 'ogrebatics' with a complete lack of grace, but was pleased with the results. His club swung around him, crushing advancing foes and sending decaying parts of them flying through the air. His movement created a small perimeter, and the ogre got to his feet as quickly as his bulk allowed. Standing firmly on two legs, he felt more confident in facing this unusual challenge.

He was about to trample through the horde of undead, in the wake of the shaman, when sounds of struggle reached his ear. When a horn was sounded, Bones thought back to the horn that WAAAAAAAGH had given him on a previous expedition. Questions immediately flooded his mind. Was this a similar sound? Were orcs approaching? Or had Imperials somehow travelled this far south, through the Greenskin lands? Would Bones stay to find out, or would he travel west as well?

There was little time to consider his options, and Bones made his decision. Rather than follow the shaman and risk running into the tusked warrior, Bones would head north. That was where he'd come from to begin with, and where he'd needed to go in order to travel back to Vers. The ogre made haste, yet not recklessly so. He would try to avoid thick clusters of walking dead, trying to find less crowded areas to travel through. Anything that stood in his way was smashed aside or stomped upon.

OOCNot sure anymore which way the shaman was heading/where the sounds came from. I hope I got it right!
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Old November 24, 2016, 03:07 PM   #26 (permalink)
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For an ogre, this one had wit. Or, perhaps the thought of another scrap so soon after the first was a bit too much for tired muscles. Either way, the necromancer ploughed back the way he had come. Towering above the zombies, he'd note, if observant enough to glance left, the shaman, sprinting as though his life depended on it. Meanwhile, the drum beats closed, tempting the possibility that they'd cut the ogre off.

As he barreled his way through the horde, he came across a crumpled heap, just off the path he held. Partially clothed, but bent in a most unnatural manner, with large chunks of flesh torn from him; Bones would quickly realise his discovery - Doylen. A really dead Doylen, which the undead simply left alone.

Despite the zombies leaving the body alone, it would feel a little sparse of enemies here. And then, the sound of galloping from the east, which introduced the cavalry charge of wargs with riders. They headed directly for Bones.

Even if he continued north, the speed of the beasts made it safe to presume he probably wouldn't escape. But, he could try.
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Old November 25, 2016, 08:24 AM   #27 (permalink)
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Despite the gravity of the situation, the ogre found himself grinning behind his mask as he saw the shaman running to safety. There had been betrayal from both sides, but in the end the human had earned a level of respect from Bones. Surrounded by undead, the fellow was still alive. It was a sign of strength. Not so weak after all, Bones mused before his attention returned to his own course.

When he came across the remains of Doylen, two questions came to mind. First, was there anything worth taking? And second, could he grab anything without being surrounded again? Only when he judged it was safe would he risk slowing his pace and bending over the corpse. Without treasure it was a dead body much like those that surrounded Bones on all sides -nothing more.

The ogre's head jerked to the side when he realised that the riders were heading in his direction. Hadn't they been chasing the shaman? Had they changed their course?

Whether or not it was justfied, his initial alarm wavered when he realised that the riders were mounted on wargs. Humans did not ride wargs. Orcs did. And although he couldn't be sure that these were orcs from Vers, they were at least from the Sherian. That meant that there was good chance that their interests coalesced with his own. The main question would be whether the riders considered WAAAAAAAGH their liege or friend.

"Who goes there?" Bones roared, the words spoken in Orcish. He halted, yet remained vigilant. Any zombies coming too close would be introduced to a rather sizeable spiked club.
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Old November 29, 2016, 06:53 AM   #28 (permalink)
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Doylen was a mess. About his body was strewn clothing, torn leather armor and a few weapons, much too small for an ogre to wield. He was simply a useless cadaver. However, if he decided, Bones would quite easily be able to grab anything while on the run. Zombies weren't known for being the smartest or fastest.

At Bones' demand, the wargs quickened their pace. There were fifteen in all plummeting towards him; whooping and hollaring. The music of war continued, as several of the riders dashed straight past the ogre, in the direction of the shaman. However, six pulled up before the new threat and began to circle him.

All looked underprivileged. They wore battered leather armour; their weapons were crude instruments, as though the looted arms of fallen men. One carried a heavy crossbow, trained on Bones face. One among them, not particularly striking, huffed, "Who the feth are you and where did that shaman go?!" There wasn't much patience in his voice.

A new wave of the undead began to close. "We're Savage's boys. Now hurry up."
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Old December 1, 2016, 07:21 AM   #29 (permalink)
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He'd seen nothing of value but, just in case, Bones picked up the dead body and lobbed it as far ahead of him as he could. If he managed to get it away from the undead mass, he could perhaps have a closer look to see if Doylen had carried small jewelry or a pouch of some sort, hidden inside his clothing. His plans were interrupted by the arrival of the mounted orcs.

"Bones killed shaman's posse," the ogre replied, not too worried about the crossbow the orc had propped up. His mask protected his face, and most of his body was strong enough to resist a bolt. Only his throat would be vulnerable, he realised, too late. It was something he'd need to address at some point. "Tusked human ran that way," he continued, using his free hand to indicate the direction in which the other warrior had fled. How did the orcs know about the human?

"Bones worked with the Snakebite Boyz before. Never with Savage." It wasn't much of an explanation, and the ogre wasn't going to elaborate. First things first, which was getting away from all the walking corpses. Once they were in the clear, he'd see whether any of the orcs could tell him what they were doing. Scouting, perhaps, or making sure that the undead did not travel too far north.
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Old January 3, 2017, 08:51 AM   #30 (permalink)
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"Snakebite boyz" one of the orcs said, tasting the name of his tongue as he thought about it.

"Warlords men, yeah?" another asked and then nodded "Yeah, that warlord WAAAAAAAGH has some called that" the orcs said and seemed to consider things as they looked up at the massive ogre. They appear not to be afraid of the being that stood in front of them, but that was to be expected in orcs. They were not cowards they were not weak. Hmm, fine then. They seemed to consider Bones not to be an enemy at this point. Maybe not a friend, but at least not an enemy. "Come then" one nodded with a grunt it's head towards the remainder of the group.

It turned out that the shaman had a legitimate reason for running away, he had been being hunted by these men and of the fabled Savage. Savage it turned out was an orc that also held some command. It was admitted that he was certainly no WAAAAAAAGH but had some strength in these meager parts. Seems the Shaman and his men led a band of zombies to close to them and they didn't like it. Freed one of their beasts too, one they had no name for but described as a shaggy giant tusked bore with a long strange nose/trunk. Generally, a bothersome group. They had been chasing them a while but they always seemed to narrowly escape.

"You wanna help get 'im back" he was asked by an orc was Suuugh
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