05-10-2021, 10:23 PM
The screams of the dying creatures were piercing, like nails on chalkboard, wining as it trying to drill into his brain. He had fallen into the combat version of the chong rann, his hacking and slashing precise and focused. As if by training, he fell into step with Valeriya, the two of them dancing together as if the chittering and screams were the rhythm to a song. A beautiful and deadly song that sang to him in a way he had never experienced.
The gunshot brought him out of his trance and he slashed at the creature that reared up as he turned to see how Rowan and Patricus were. Alive, was how. But in their dance, some distance had opened up between their groups. Valeriya's words coincided with his thoughts and they closed the gap between them. Fool!, he thought to himself.
Thankfully, the ground was covered in moments. Armande stood in front of Patricus as a shield, aware that Valeriya had gone to Rowan. A quick glance to the left showed a number of the creatures clustering around a spot 10 meters away. The color of the pilot's shirt was only visible for a second, but it was enough, the torn and bloody fabric indicating his fate.
He took stock of the diminishing number before them. Together they had made a sizable dent in the swarm and the creatures had to climb over their dead just to get to them, slowing their pace and adding to the number of corpses. The fighting would not go on forever, he knew. Attrition would take its toll. His sword took off a claw and head and they continued their dance.
The gunshot brought him out of his trance and he slashed at the creature that reared up as he turned to see how Rowan and Patricus were. Alive, was how. But in their dance, some distance had opened up between their groups. Valeriya's words coincided with his thoughts and they closed the gap between them. Fool!, he thought to himself.
Thankfully, the ground was covered in moments. Armande stood in front of Patricus as a shield, aware that Valeriya had gone to Rowan. A quick glance to the left showed a number of the creatures clustering around a spot 10 meters away. The color of the pilot's shirt was only visible for a second, but it was enough, the torn and bloody fabric indicating his fate.
He took stock of the diminishing number before them. Together they had made a sizable dent in the swarm and the creatures had to climb over their dead just to get to them, slowing their pace and adding to the number of corpses. The fighting would not go on forever, he knew. Attrition would take its toll. His sword took off a claw and head and they continued their dance.