Post by Amur on Aug 12, 2011 10:35:03 GMT -5
Solomon was in his element, despite the summer season the night sky was darkened by the presence of storm clouds. That alone had allowed him to ignore the alarmingly flat terrain even before night had claimed the land, and now here he crouched, on the very edge of the Hadarac Desert. The hood on his wyvern-skin coat raised and covering his face behind its usual shades of inky blackness, in fact, the only difference in his attire tonight was that he wore the very uncomfortable wyvern-skin gloves that had been made with his coat and chest-plate.
Uncomfortable, but he could not deny their use, he didn’t want to touch any of the weapons he was currently holding with his bare hands. He wanted to make sure that if he was to be caught, that his captors would have to work hard to do so.
Tonight he had left his usual long-bow and his custom-crafted arrows at the last base-camp he had stayed at. The elongated metal-tipped darts that were his arrows were far too easy to identify. Attached loosely to his lower back was a quiver of standard arrows, commonly used by amateurs when hunting for food, and slung over his right shoulder was the plain wooden bow he had “acquired” several days ago, while slung over his left shoulder was a standard rapier that he planned to use to conclude his trip here.
Solomon had spent the last two to three days preparing his temporary equipment for the event to come, he had spent hours painstakingly painting the bow and arrows he was to use black. A tedious and very frustrating endeavour, but one that would prove its worth in mere moments, he had spent only several hours observing and stalking his prey tonight. But that was all part of the fun.
From what he had gathered about these brutish apes, -otherwise known to the inhabitants of this land as Urgals- Solomon had worked out that they were relatively primitive, yet intelligent in their own brutish way. Perhaps a culture that favoured battle and a lot of it, it was for that reason alone that Solomon knew that facing them head-on would be a suicide bid. Which is why he had decided to “run” them, catch them unawares and slaughter them while they tried to figure out what was going on, a tactic that he personally loved even if he had only ever done it only once beforehand.
He moved the bow from his shoulder and into his hand. He kept himself crouched as he moved in swift silence to a more agreeable vantage point, the area he had labelled himself as the front. If only due to the fact that it offered him a clear view into the middle of the camp-ground they had set up, where a large fire burned freely, of course he knew that he wouldn’t be able to complete his run solely from this position. But there was a chance he would be able to get a good number of kills from here.
He slowly worked an arrow free from the quiver and fitted it to the commoner-bow he was holding, his first target already picked out, the fire behind it silhouetting nicely against the otherwise black night. He took aim, compensating for the distance and then loosed the arrow, the missile tore through the air and found its mark somewhere within the brutish skull of his prey. The Urgal straightened, swayed on the spot slightly and then fell to the ground face-first, with a small smirk Solomon fitted another arrow to the bow and instantly loosed it as he noticed the movement of a second Urgal.
His shot was poorly aimed and pierced the neck of this one, but, Solomon was not one to be deterred by the failure of a pot shot and swiftly fired a second arrow at his prey, much like the last shot this one got it through the neck. Unlike the last shot, however, this arrow toppled the beast and left it lying still, now they began to react, the encampment suddenly buzzed with activity and noise as his prey scrambled to try and defend itself from its unseen predator.
He kept himself crouched as he once more moved in his usual swift silence, moving himself away from the front and off to the right just as a flaming arrow pierced the darkness, revealing nothing with its flame. At least his next target revealed itself for him as it advanced cautiously with its comrades, the second flaming arrow acting as a beacon for Solomon to follow as he took aim.
The flaming arrow fell to the ground as the brute was struck with the arrow and fell where it stood. Solomon allowed a small smirk to twist its way across his lips as the small group began to retreat back into their encampment. Moving targets, never an issue.
Three more loosed arrows, three more dead brutes.
He raced back to his previous spot, snatching the still flaming arrows from the ground, He fitted the first, took aim and loosed it at the first piece of fabric he found, and then followed suit with the second flaming arrow.
The effect wasn’t instant, as Solomon knew; now he just needed to stall for a brief moment while the flames did their thing. And, already he knew the best way to do so; taking a small black case from one of the pouches on his belt he removed a small glass vial from within it and left the case on the ground.
This vial of explosive compound had been mixed only a single night ago; it took several days for the mixture to become potent enough to destroy anything, so this would merely make the sound of an explosion. And most likely produce a wave of heat.
”Should be more than enough.”
Threading his arm through the bow he rested it on his shoulder and ran toward the encampment in a low crouch, the vial resting between his middle finger and thumb as he prepared to flick it. He stopped at the opening serving as the entrance, one of the brutes clearly shocked to see him as it tried to leave; Solomon merely smirked beneath his hood and took advantage of the confusion by flicking the vial at its chest.
He knew what to expect and was fast to avert his eyes and throw up his arm as an extra measure of protection as the explosion sounded. He removed the bow he was using and fitted an arrow, maintaining his crouched stance as the brute sluggishly forced itself back into a standing position. Normally, even fresh vials of explosive compound would be more than enough to take a human, or human sized, creature apart completely, but at their size, these brutes were able to withstand such a small blast with only a moderate injury.
He waited, and the loosed the arrow, getting the brute in its left eye, fitted another arrow and got its right eye. And then put it outs of its misery with an arrow through the throat. He spent no more time in the light and was fast to retreat to the blackness of the night once more, and just in time too as the two tents he shot those flaming arrows at began to glow and then burst into flame seconds later. Solomon chuckled to himself, now; the camp would light his prey wonderfully as they tried to move while simultaneously obscuring their vision outside the flickering parameter of light the slowly growing fire was creating.
This run was over; Solomon’s prey was as good as dead. So now, all he had left to do was enjoy the thrill of the hunt before the final stage of his plan.
Time went by rapidly as tracking and ending his prey became easier as their numbers dwindled, by the time he had their numbers down to a single grunt and what he had assumed to be their leader, or commander, or chief... Whatever these brutes knew them as he forced himself to check his arrow reserves. Regardless, it had been the one that had taken command at the earliest opportunity, so that would be the last thing Solomon killed.
He made a quick mental note, five remaining arrows; he would only need one for the final grunt. He fitted it as he followed the final two brutes back into their encampment. And stopped as he reached the opening-and corner-they had backed themselves into, he stood in silence at its corner as they noticed him. The final grunt abandoned its post with a bellow and charged straight at Solomon with reckless abandon, its superior apparently having more intelligence tried to call it back, but it was too late.
Solomon ducked and span beneath the blow and then took advantage by dropping to a single knee, shifting the grip he held his bow in to a horizontal hold and then loosed the arrow at the base of its skull. Just to avoid potentially being struck in the back he rolled back to where he had been seconds ago and stood up, smiling to himself when he noticed the arrow protruding through the front of the brute’s face, at the angle he had fired it at the wound looked like it had caused the beast some pain. Yet still it stood, swaying on the spot, Solomon wasn’t going to be having any of that, with a single hand he effortlessly pushed it to the ground just to mock the final survivor stood before him and he did so by giving it a small wave as its final man fell to the ground.
Silently he removed the almost empty quiver from his lower back and dropped both that and the commoner’s bow he had been using to the ground. He took the rapier loosely secured to his back, drew it and then dropped its sheath on the floor as well; he wouldn’t be leaving here with this weapon, his venomous short sword was the only delicately-deadly weapon he needed.
He took a stance with his rapier, just to make sure that even after slaughtering the rest of the encampment that his intention here was obvious. As he had been trained to do Solomon waited for it to make the first move, however, none came. In fact the beast was making no effort whatsoever to attack him. Caution was a good sign. The brute was taking him seriously.
“Coward!”
It roared, Solomon smiled-his face still concealed by his hood- and feigned shock by dropping his stance and backing away a step.
“Shocking” He said sarcastically. “I was unaware that you brutes were capable of actually speaking in a civilised tongue.”
He sneered, adjusting his grip on the rapier.
A snarl worked its way across the brute’s already grotesque features, he had hit a nerve there it seemed. What shocked Solomon at this point though, was that it had actually understood the insult, that on its own had been unexpected.
“You attack us from the dark coward!”
This time he laughed out loud.
“It’s called hunting you brutish ape.” He paused. “Ooh, that must sting, to know that you and your... Comrades have been preyed on by a human!”
He was just rubbing salt in the wounds now, the beast clearly becoming angrier with each insult that Solomon threw at it. Which again, was shocking that it had understood the implications of what Solomon had just said.
“Lies! Show me your face and prove it coward!”
Solomon only chuckled this time and resumed his stance.
“I may have done so if I wasn’t afraid of catching some kind of disease from your primitive gaze.”
It roared and charged, though unlike its last comrade it was a smaller target for Solomon to track, not that it mattered, his aim here wasn’t to inflict a fatal wound just yet. He swiftly, and almost gracefully span to the side, slashing the beast across its left thigh. He was careful not to go too deep and the wound went largely unnoticed by his prey. That was good; if he were human he would have noticed it instantly.
He span the rapier skilfully as the beast turned to face him, a large axe now held in its hand, it almost looked like it was becoming serious. Which was unfortunate, because of their very primitive and almost bestial nature, these were not creatures that Solomon could take seriously. It lunged for him, swinging its weapon in an arc; Solomon merely leaned backwards and slashed its shin, again being careful not to make the wound too big. And then Span to the side, once again slashing its thigh in the process of the dodge to a second downward-aimed slash from the brute, and, as before he was careful to keep the wound as close to skin-deep as possible.
It was at this point that it noticed the three very minor wounds on its left leg and bellowed humourless laughter... At least that’s what it sounded like.
“You’ll need to do much better than that coward!”
Now that was adorable, it had noticed the wounds but still had no idea what Solomon was up to and was mocking him for it. Solomon merely smiled to himself and shrugged in an over exaggerated way before resuming his stance, the wounds wouldn’t take their toll just yet, and even so Solomon had no issue with the fact he would have to keep this brute entertained for a little while longer, it would make the kill all the sweeter.
He took a small jump back, giving the beast another small cut on its shin and then instantly performed an over-exaggerated bow, slashing his sword in an arc as he made the gesture, giving the brute another small cut on its thigh. He maintained the bow for a second and then twisted himself, slashing the creature again and then span off to its side, slashing its leg another three times as he repositioned himself.
He span the rapier again as his prey turned to face him, and then span it again as he waited for it to face him. Its movement speed now hampered by a small limp, Solomon smiled to himself again as his prey shifted uncertainly in an attempt to take some of the weight off of its injured leg, now things were beginning to move in the direction he wanted them to move in. The brute moved awkwardly and Solomon simply took a small step back, and another before leaping forward and then diving to the side, managing another two small slashes to its leg as he dove and another as landed and got back to his feet.
It tried to turn, but Solomon moved with it, slashing it in the back of its leg as he did so. With its movement rapidly deteriorating with each newly inflicted wound keeping to its back became easier with each passing second until.
It fell to a knee, its injured leg positioned awkwardly; Solomon smiled and casually walked around to the beast’s front, spinning the rapier by its hilt.
“Stings, ja?”
He taunted, casually side-stepping the awkward, kneeling attack from the brute that served as its response. He drew his arm back and then plunged the rapier into the throat of the final living brute of the encampment, putting enough force behind the stab to slam the beast to the ground where it lie still.
Solomon stood over his fallen prey and watched it struggle to breathe while it gurgled on its own blood.
“N’aww.” He made the sound as mocking as possible. He reached into his coat and removed a small piece of paper and neatly wrapped it around the hilt of the rapier he had left in the brute’s throat and then secured it with a small bright-pink ribbon before turning his attention back to the slowly dying Urgal.
“It’s ok, we all fall sometimes. You’re not the first.” He sneered. “But I know it hurts. Don’t worry, in the end you’ll find what you deserve.” He chuckled almost boyishly as he turned his back. “But still, I know it hurts.”
He sneered as he walked calmly away from the fallen enemy and to the nearest source of fire he could find, which just happened to be the, now very small fire in the center of the encampment. With deliberate slowness he removed a small, dark green capsule from one of the pouches on his belt and casually threw it into the fire, within a second the fire roared back into life and stretched toward the sky as a huge pillar of dark-green fire.
The meaning of the pillar of emerald-fire would be lost to the inhabitants of this land, but they would surely attract some kind of attention. He walked back to the dying brute, its expression slowly starting to blank, which only caused Solomon to smile again.
“I can’t see it. How does anyone or anything struggle to deal with your kind? You’re weak and this hunt was hardly worth the effort.”
He taunted, somewhat irritably.
However, now, he was done here, he casually turned his back on the fallen brute and walked away from the scene of the slaughter, his smile broadening as his thoughts returned to the content of the note he had left tied to the hilt of the rapier still buried within the throat of the last ape he killed.
”If I,
A lone human can do this to an entire encampment of these apish brutes.
Then why do a gaggle of Elves and their giant pet lizards struggle?
Lots of love
A Concerned Citizen”
His stride remained that of a casual walk until he was clear of the encampment and then he ran, he had a concealed camp several miles from here, he would rest there and then move onto one a little bit further away, he needed to resupply several of his small items as it was.
[[Eh, I felt I lost it toward the end there, but otherwise quite impressed with what I managed here. The intention here is to give people an event generated by me to discuss IC etc as well as to get some form of interaction going around it, and that Solomon will be long gone by the time anyone else gets there. Though if it does present an issue I'll have Kaime appear later on.]]
[[Also note, that depending on how well this is recieved I may do another thread like this in the future.]]
Uncomfortable, but he could not deny their use, he didn’t want to touch any of the weapons he was currently holding with his bare hands. He wanted to make sure that if he was to be caught, that his captors would have to work hard to do so.
Tonight he had left his usual long-bow and his custom-crafted arrows at the last base-camp he had stayed at. The elongated metal-tipped darts that were his arrows were far too easy to identify. Attached loosely to his lower back was a quiver of standard arrows, commonly used by amateurs when hunting for food, and slung over his right shoulder was the plain wooden bow he had “acquired” several days ago, while slung over his left shoulder was a standard rapier that he planned to use to conclude his trip here.
Solomon had spent the last two to three days preparing his temporary equipment for the event to come, he had spent hours painstakingly painting the bow and arrows he was to use black. A tedious and very frustrating endeavour, but one that would prove its worth in mere moments, he had spent only several hours observing and stalking his prey tonight. But that was all part of the fun.
From what he had gathered about these brutish apes, -otherwise known to the inhabitants of this land as Urgals- Solomon had worked out that they were relatively primitive, yet intelligent in their own brutish way. Perhaps a culture that favoured battle and a lot of it, it was for that reason alone that Solomon knew that facing them head-on would be a suicide bid. Which is why he had decided to “run” them, catch them unawares and slaughter them while they tried to figure out what was going on, a tactic that he personally loved even if he had only ever done it only once beforehand.
He moved the bow from his shoulder and into his hand. He kept himself crouched as he moved in swift silence to a more agreeable vantage point, the area he had labelled himself as the front. If only due to the fact that it offered him a clear view into the middle of the camp-ground they had set up, where a large fire burned freely, of course he knew that he wouldn’t be able to complete his run solely from this position. But there was a chance he would be able to get a good number of kills from here.
He slowly worked an arrow free from the quiver and fitted it to the commoner-bow he was holding, his first target already picked out, the fire behind it silhouetting nicely against the otherwise black night. He took aim, compensating for the distance and then loosed the arrow, the missile tore through the air and found its mark somewhere within the brutish skull of his prey. The Urgal straightened, swayed on the spot slightly and then fell to the ground face-first, with a small smirk Solomon fitted another arrow to the bow and instantly loosed it as he noticed the movement of a second Urgal.
His shot was poorly aimed and pierced the neck of this one, but, Solomon was not one to be deterred by the failure of a pot shot and swiftly fired a second arrow at his prey, much like the last shot this one got it through the neck. Unlike the last shot, however, this arrow toppled the beast and left it lying still, now they began to react, the encampment suddenly buzzed with activity and noise as his prey scrambled to try and defend itself from its unseen predator.
He kept himself crouched as he once more moved in his usual swift silence, moving himself away from the front and off to the right just as a flaming arrow pierced the darkness, revealing nothing with its flame. At least his next target revealed itself for him as it advanced cautiously with its comrades, the second flaming arrow acting as a beacon for Solomon to follow as he took aim.
The flaming arrow fell to the ground as the brute was struck with the arrow and fell where it stood. Solomon allowed a small smirk to twist its way across his lips as the small group began to retreat back into their encampment. Moving targets, never an issue.
Three more loosed arrows, three more dead brutes.
He raced back to his previous spot, snatching the still flaming arrows from the ground, He fitted the first, took aim and loosed it at the first piece of fabric he found, and then followed suit with the second flaming arrow.
The effect wasn’t instant, as Solomon knew; now he just needed to stall for a brief moment while the flames did their thing. And, already he knew the best way to do so; taking a small black case from one of the pouches on his belt he removed a small glass vial from within it and left the case on the ground.
This vial of explosive compound had been mixed only a single night ago; it took several days for the mixture to become potent enough to destroy anything, so this would merely make the sound of an explosion. And most likely produce a wave of heat.
”Should be more than enough.”
Threading his arm through the bow he rested it on his shoulder and ran toward the encampment in a low crouch, the vial resting between his middle finger and thumb as he prepared to flick it. He stopped at the opening serving as the entrance, one of the brutes clearly shocked to see him as it tried to leave; Solomon merely smirked beneath his hood and took advantage of the confusion by flicking the vial at its chest.
He knew what to expect and was fast to avert his eyes and throw up his arm as an extra measure of protection as the explosion sounded. He removed the bow he was using and fitted an arrow, maintaining his crouched stance as the brute sluggishly forced itself back into a standing position. Normally, even fresh vials of explosive compound would be more than enough to take a human, or human sized, creature apart completely, but at their size, these brutes were able to withstand such a small blast with only a moderate injury.
He waited, and the loosed the arrow, getting the brute in its left eye, fitted another arrow and got its right eye. And then put it outs of its misery with an arrow through the throat. He spent no more time in the light and was fast to retreat to the blackness of the night once more, and just in time too as the two tents he shot those flaming arrows at began to glow and then burst into flame seconds later. Solomon chuckled to himself, now; the camp would light his prey wonderfully as they tried to move while simultaneously obscuring their vision outside the flickering parameter of light the slowly growing fire was creating.
This run was over; Solomon’s prey was as good as dead. So now, all he had left to do was enjoy the thrill of the hunt before the final stage of his plan.
Time went by rapidly as tracking and ending his prey became easier as their numbers dwindled, by the time he had their numbers down to a single grunt and what he had assumed to be their leader, or commander, or chief... Whatever these brutes knew them as he forced himself to check his arrow reserves. Regardless, it had been the one that had taken command at the earliest opportunity, so that would be the last thing Solomon killed.
He made a quick mental note, five remaining arrows; he would only need one for the final grunt. He fitted it as he followed the final two brutes back into their encampment. And stopped as he reached the opening-and corner-they had backed themselves into, he stood in silence at its corner as they noticed him. The final grunt abandoned its post with a bellow and charged straight at Solomon with reckless abandon, its superior apparently having more intelligence tried to call it back, but it was too late.
Solomon ducked and span beneath the blow and then took advantage by dropping to a single knee, shifting the grip he held his bow in to a horizontal hold and then loosed the arrow at the base of its skull. Just to avoid potentially being struck in the back he rolled back to where he had been seconds ago and stood up, smiling to himself when he noticed the arrow protruding through the front of the brute’s face, at the angle he had fired it at the wound looked like it had caused the beast some pain. Yet still it stood, swaying on the spot, Solomon wasn’t going to be having any of that, with a single hand he effortlessly pushed it to the ground just to mock the final survivor stood before him and he did so by giving it a small wave as its final man fell to the ground.
Silently he removed the almost empty quiver from his lower back and dropped both that and the commoner’s bow he had been using to the ground. He took the rapier loosely secured to his back, drew it and then dropped its sheath on the floor as well; he wouldn’t be leaving here with this weapon, his venomous short sword was the only delicately-deadly weapon he needed.
He took a stance with his rapier, just to make sure that even after slaughtering the rest of the encampment that his intention here was obvious. As he had been trained to do Solomon waited for it to make the first move, however, none came. In fact the beast was making no effort whatsoever to attack him. Caution was a good sign. The brute was taking him seriously.
“Coward!”
It roared, Solomon smiled-his face still concealed by his hood- and feigned shock by dropping his stance and backing away a step.
“Shocking” He said sarcastically. “I was unaware that you brutes were capable of actually speaking in a civilised tongue.”
He sneered, adjusting his grip on the rapier.
A snarl worked its way across the brute’s already grotesque features, he had hit a nerve there it seemed. What shocked Solomon at this point though, was that it had actually understood the insult, that on its own had been unexpected.
“You attack us from the dark coward!”
This time he laughed out loud.
“It’s called hunting you brutish ape.” He paused. “Ooh, that must sting, to know that you and your... Comrades have been preyed on by a human!”
He was just rubbing salt in the wounds now, the beast clearly becoming angrier with each insult that Solomon threw at it. Which again, was shocking that it had understood the implications of what Solomon had just said.
“Lies! Show me your face and prove it coward!”
Solomon only chuckled this time and resumed his stance.
“I may have done so if I wasn’t afraid of catching some kind of disease from your primitive gaze.”
It roared and charged, though unlike its last comrade it was a smaller target for Solomon to track, not that it mattered, his aim here wasn’t to inflict a fatal wound just yet. He swiftly, and almost gracefully span to the side, slashing the beast across its left thigh. He was careful not to go too deep and the wound went largely unnoticed by his prey. That was good; if he were human he would have noticed it instantly.
He span the rapier skilfully as the beast turned to face him, a large axe now held in its hand, it almost looked like it was becoming serious. Which was unfortunate, because of their very primitive and almost bestial nature, these were not creatures that Solomon could take seriously. It lunged for him, swinging its weapon in an arc; Solomon merely leaned backwards and slashed its shin, again being careful not to make the wound too big. And then Span to the side, once again slashing its thigh in the process of the dodge to a second downward-aimed slash from the brute, and, as before he was careful to keep the wound as close to skin-deep as possible.
It was at this point that it noticed the three very minor wounds on its left leg and bellowed humourless laughter... At least that’s what it sounded like.
“You’ll need to do much better than that coward!”
Now that was adorable, it had noticed the wounds but still had no idea what Solomon was up to and was mocking him for it. Solomon merely smiled to himself and shrugged in an over exaggerated way before resuming his stance, the wounds wouldn’t take their toll just yet, and even so Solomon had no issue with the fact he would have to keep this brute entertained for a little while longer, it would make the kill all the sweeter.
He took a small jump back, giving the beast another small cut on its shin and then instantly performed an over-exaggerated bow, slashing his sword in an arc as he made the gesture, giving the brute another small cut on its thigh. He maintained the bow for a second and then twisted himself, slashing the creature again and then span off to its side, slashing its leg another three times as he repositioned himself.
He span the rapier again as his prey turned to face him, and then span it again as he waited for it to face him. Its movement speed now hampered by a small limp, Solomon smiled to himself again as his prey shifted uncertainly in an attempt to take some of the weight off of its injured leg, now things were beginning to move in the direction he wanted them to move in. The brute moved awkwardly and Solomon simply took a small step back, and another before leaping forward and then diving to the side, managing another two small slashes to its leg as he dove and another as landed and got back to his feet.
It tried to turn, but Solomon moved with it, slashing it in the back of its leg as he did so. With its movement rapidly deteriorating with each newly inflicted wound keeping to its back became easier with each passing second until.
It fell to a knee, its injured leg positioned awkwardly; Solomon smiled and casually walked around to the beast’s front, spinning the rapier by its hilt.
“Stings, ja?”
He taunted, casually side-stepping the awkward, kneeling attack from the brute that served as its response. He drew his arm back and then plunged the rapier into the throat of the final living brute of the encampment, putting enough force behind the stab to slam the beast to the ground where it lie still.
Solomon stood over his fallen prey and watched it struggle to breathe while it gurgled on its own blood.
“N’aww.” He made the sound as mocking as possible. He reached into his coat and removed a small piece of paper and neatly wrapped it around the hilt of the rapier he had left in the brute’s throat and then secured it with a small bright-pink ribbon before turning his attention back to the slowly dying Urgal.
“It’s ok, we all fall sometimes. You’re not the first.” He sneered. “But I know it hurts. Don’t worry, in the end you’ll find what you deserve.” He chuckled almost boyishly as he turned his back. “But still, I know it hurts.”
He sneered as he walked calmly away from the fallen enemy and to the nearest source of fire he could find, which just happened to be the, now very small fire in the center of the encampment. With deliberate slowness he removed a small, dark green capsule from one of the pouches on his belt and casually threw it into the fire, within a second the fire roared back into life and stretched toward the sky as a huge pillar of dark-green fire.
The meaning of the pillar of emerald-fire would be lost to the inhabitants of this land, but they would surely attract some kind of attention. He walked back to the dying brute, its expression slowly starting to blank, which only caused Solomon to smile again.
“I can’t see it. How does anyone or anything struggle to deal with your kind? You’re weak and this hunt was hardly worth the effort.”
He taunted, somewhat irritably.
However, now, he was done here, he casually turned his back on the fallen brute and walked away from the scene of the slaughter, his smile broadening as his thoughts returned to the content of the note he had left tied to the hilt of the rapier still buried within the throat of the last ape he killed.
”If I,
A lone human can do this to an entire encampment of these apish brutes.
Then why do a gaggle of Elves and their giant pet lizards struggle?
Lots of love
A Concerned Citizen”
His stride remained that of a casual walk until he was clear of the encampment and then he ran, he had a concealed camp several miles from here, he would rest there and then move onto one a little bit further away, he needed to resupply several of his small items as it was.
[[Eh, I felt I lost it toward the end there, but otherwise quite impressed with what I managed here. The intention here is to give people an event generated by me to discuss IC etc as well as to get some form of interaction going around it, and that Solomon will be long gone by the time anyone else gets there. Though if it does present an issue I'll have Kaime appear later on.]]
[[Also note, that depending on how well this is recieved I may do another thread like this in the future.]]
]]
