The Final Strike Part 1
by Kairi Sangai
Gilenor had always been a place of Adventure, where one could kill a goblin without remorse, with a simple swing of one's fist as well! The sounds of Musicians playing outside, the sounds of small children playing in the yard, carefree and blind to danger. It always made her wonder when she was ever going to settle down with some brave, strong adventurer like herself, but she could never find anyone willing to tolerate her insane attitude that popped up out of no where, for no particular reason. It was getting later in her adventuring life, completing all of the quests that were on the notice board in her house each day, everything was to the max. She kept her slender frame while her strength was more than a match for any of the God's Generals, she had beaten back soul eaters, soul snatchers, giant orcs and superior demons that nearly took her down at every turn. She could never wash away the blood that came onto her as she had even killed people, all for the sake of doing either the right thing, or her darker side taking over to obliterate people at every turn. She felt like a monster half the time, having to do what she needed for better gear than what she had.
The Armor she had plundered from Dharok's tomb was enough to keep her safe from even the toughest of blades and the strongest of arrows, but nothing against the magical might of mages. She had the flaky, itchy, smelly Ganodermic armor for that, keeping her safe with the mage-soaking flakes that kept most of the magical auras away from her. She was heavily trained in the art of combat, maybe a little too well trained. She could snap a rib as quickly as an arrow could with the strength of the strongest spell, which frightened her a lot. Was she a monster?
The sun had shone in from the window in her bedroom, covers blocking most of the eye-damaging light, the black sheets absorbing the warmth from the window. Soon it was too much for her semi-frail body to take, immediately leaning up from the bed, the covers dropping to her thighs. The blood flow didn't move fast enough to make her fully awake, her eyes glazing over some as she tried to open them, the light sensitive against her dark hues. She felt groggy after that uncomfortable dream, shaking it off of her head. It was too early for her to think about such things. Her dining room was all the way across the house, why did she have to build it so far from her room? She turned ever so slightly to the right to pull the single bell. As if in a puff of smoke, her demonic butler had appeared before her and spoke out in a raging voice, "Yes my Liege?" his hues looked as if they should belong in the deepest pits of hell themselves, but she had seen worse. "Make Breakfast." Her voice called out, rubbing her right hue with her lower palm, trying to get all the sand out. Soon the other one was getting rubbed. Before she could look out again, the demon was gone, in a flash of light, off to the kitchen.
It took her a while to get over to the Dining room, sitting quietly against a single bench chair and leaning her head on the table. She didn't want to go out for another few days, not to come home for days at a time. But of course she had to. The plate was presented on a gilded platter, the demon servant bowing in grace, as if waiting for her next order. "My morning tea, please." Her voice said softly as she forced herself to lean up against the bench's back, picking up her eating utensils and starting to munch on the breakfast. It was a scrambled egg with some chopped onions. It was enough to wake her up, the mix of crunchy and chewy always making her morning. The rest of the morning went by quickly, getting her morning tea, which gave her at least a bit more energy to get up and get going on her adventuring duties.
It was a trip to the Grand Exchange to sell the smelly hide that has been stinking up her bank box for a while, she had about a thousand to sell. Skinning dragons weren't the best thing in the world, but it put food on the table and money in her pocket. She didn't even know how it worked, all she knew she could make money at the exchange. She wish the earmuffs protected against the sounds of the other so-called "Adventurers", making profit off scamming others, quickly running away once they got their loot. It disgusted her. But all she did was set a bank note down for a thousand black dragon hides on the counter to the grand exchange clerk that stood behind a counter. It was quickly exchanged for a large pile of coins, which she somehow stuffed in her magic coin pouch. She was saving up for a nice piece of armor she had been looking at for quite some time, hugging her coin pouch against her chest as she sat against the tree next to the northeastern post of the exchange.
A few hours in the day were doing her daily duties in the strange world of Gilenor, picking up notes for Battle staves, killing a giant orc, even transporting herself to evil-looking altars to make another quick buck for turning small essences of rune into runes of death. It was rather boring for her to do so many things in just a few hours every day. It made her feel like she was in a rut most of the time, having to do the same thing over and over again. But she had done something out of the ordinary on this day, having gone out to kill something worth of merit. Her friend had even tagged along, but that wouldn't be the case in this trip. Her armor was heavy, but fit nice around her, her tender strength having just enough to carry all of what she needed for her journey out to kill an orc three times the size of Bork. For that new chest plate she had been looking at and been saving for.
Warning: The scene may be bloody and very Graphic, if you are weak of heart, do not read ahead.
She had traversed down into the hole that the Gods of Gilenor, having to figure out herself that she needed to kill forty little goblins to collect their essences to enter into the lair of the scary beast known as General Graardor, a beast who can slaughter even the highest of adventurers. She had lost many good friends to the beast, so she wanted some vengeance, but mainly the piece she had wanted for a long time. After slaughtering forty innocent goblins, whether they be or not, she had stood in front of the large metal door, emblems of fire and destruction burned across it's sill. It made her feel uncomfortable, reading it over in the ancient tongue of the gods, making her body shiver out. A warm hand had touched her exposed shoulder, making her jump out with her silver-lined longsword, but stopped once her eyes locked onto the warm smile of the man who stood next to her. She had someone to help her with her kill. She wasn't alone. Yet. Taking in a deep breath, she came out to press her hand against the door, the souls of the goblins flowing into it for a mere moment, giving her time to rely on her senses that her god, Guthix, would protect her from the ranged attacks of the General. She clutched onto her emergency teleport in case she wanted to get out alive, taking in a big gulp as she saw the large orc in the middle of the room, sitting on what appeared to be a stone throne littered with bones and armors of various fallen adventurers.
She didn't have time to waste. Her friend had come in behind her, souls flickering against the door before vanishing up into the icy ceiling. Her body shivered with fear as her hand hugged the grip of the Chaotic Longsword, her other holding onto the burning red shield that held the breath of dragon in it's ornate jaw. She took in a gulp as the beast stared down at her shivering form, seemingly not threatened by the minuscule creatures before him. She gritted her teeth and charged at the beast, sword at hand, raised up to attempt to charge the beast. A burst of wind came at her and pushed her back, smashing her back up against the wall, blood spurting out from her lips as it had wrecked her insides when it hit. It nearly tore through her armor with that single gust of wind! Three smaller goblins came out from behind the general. One with a flail, one with a single weapon, and another with a kind of ranged weapon. This wasn't going to be pretty. Her friend had come out from near the door and singled out to attack the three beasts. Apparently she was to fight the large orc on her own.
The stench of the unwashed beast was enough to make her want to vomit, but she couldn't take it anymore. Lurching forward off from the wall, she came up to attempt to jump up and slash down at the beast with her sharp blade. It didn't work. Before she could even jump, she had to dodge another burst of wind, her head nearly split in two as a large spike-wristed hand came down and smashed into the ice in front of her, mere inches away from her. She wanted to drop her weapons and drop the tab into the floor to escape, but she was just too afraid. Then it kicked in. Her teeth gritted hard before turning her lips into a dark smirk, her arms shifting to stop shivering. Her right hand with the blade came upwards to try and slash at the beast.
It stabbed through the muscle of the beast's left leg, which made it clear she was a threat. She large orc had moved off of it's throne once the female jumped back, readying her stance to defend against what the beast had to offer. It didn't last long for her. The blade had come up but was easily blocked by the beast's large hands, gripping it on several occasions, having to move back even further, until she hit the wall. Her teeth gritted down as her hues began to close halfway, narrowing towards the beast as her body began to shiver again. The three other goblins were dead by the time her friend had come to try to help her. But it was fruitless yet again. A large hand came out to bash the man's stomach up against the other side of the wall, a good fifty feet away from where they were. The beast's large huges came back down to her, her body seemingly to want to break down in sheer terror.
Was he okay? Will he die? Would she had to attend another funeral with no body? Her breath was picking up fast, her body quickly moving down under the beast, quickly dodging whatever was under the dreaded clothing and starting to stagger in a run over towards her fallen comrade. It didn't take long for the beast to follow her, rather seemingly amused by the girl's faint attempts to run away from him. Her sword was tossed down next to the fallen male, a huge bulking dent in the solid armor of the male, blood dripping down from his lower lip. She was shaking his shoulders, trying to wake him from his fainted slumber. Soon his eyes were opening a bit, staring up at her, and what was behind her. Her shield came up and blocked the massive fist that came down at her, making her smash her right leg up against the wall, the other hand coming down against the edges of the shield. It felt like her arm was breaking from the inside out from the beast's hits.
"Teleport out! Please! I can't hold him off forever!" She shouted out, her teeth wanted to break from the tension of gritting, her arm starting to grow sore as another hit came up against the burning shield. The male had only raised a small playful smile, getting up behind her. He had his teleport at hand, but he didn't use it yet. Instead he put it on top of her head, for when she moved again it would break and teleport her away back to her home. He ran out from behind her and the orc had followed him slowly, seeing him as more than a threat than her. Her voice rang out as she moved her shield away from her front as it was clear from the beast's fists. She only saw for a moment as her body, sword and shield were all teleported away as the tablet set along her head fell onto the ground, breaking. She was swallowed by the spell, but not before seeing a massive fist break down into the ground, along with her now-dead comrade. With her own eyes she witnessed the dreaded fate of a close friend.
Her legs trembled and collapsed as she had appeared in front of the large portal that held her house on the infinite landscape of another realm. Her sword and shield were next to each other as her hands came over her face, tears trailing down between her fingers as she had let her emotions go, sounds of crying muffled over her palms. She had another one die, all because of her.
Warning: It's not that good. I didn't have a lot to go on. "Constructive" criticism is helpful, not mean criticism. No being mean plox. :c