Post by hector C. Vinland on Sept 18, 2012 11:20:16 GMT -6
On a dark night night under the shadow of a furious storm....
Down the dirt roads of dawn island a single man rode on horseback through the furious thunder and rain. As the forces of nature beat against him, the man, a night hunter, peered into the distance. What he saw was something expected, but horrifying nonetheless: A village engulfed in flames towering high into the night sky.
"Damn...I'm too late."
The night hunter's brow furrowed, and with grim determination he pressed on. If only he had gotten the information sooner: If only that foul necromancer had been caught by the proper authorities before he could have gotten onto dawn island...No, that didn't matter now. What mattered was that events had unfolded the way they had and that now it was this young man's responsibility to set things right. Hector C. Vinland, Bounty Hunter and Night Hunter, would see to it that no one else fell to the whims of this particular necromancer. There would be justice tonight.
Hector rode through the fury of the storm and, after minutes that felt like hours, eventually found himself in the center of the town in flames. Having let his horse flee from the seemingly unquenchable fires in the night, Hector simply strode into the center of the small town, unafraid of the monsters he knew to be there. It did not take long for said monsters to come and greet him.
Streaming out from the houses and buildings, alongside a few remaining villagers and civilians fleeing for their lives, was a small army of skeletons and zombies of many shapes and sizes. Not surprising, considering the fact that a necromancer was indeed in close proximity to the town. It did not take long for the skeletons and zombies to cluster together and organize themselves, indicating a limited degree of "intelligence" amongst their collective whole. Mark of an intermediate necromancer alright...
This left the situation of Hector standing alone (from what he could tell) with a mix of roughly twenty four skeletons and zombies standing in a phalanx formation standing opposite of him in the empty town square. Armed to the teeth with a range of objects from swords to pitchforks and even armed with a substantial amount of armor. Roughly 2/3rds of them had shields, making the phalanx possible. Hector, however, was not concerned. No firearms? no problem even if they had them. He was a Night Hunter, no skeletons or zombies, midget or otherwise, would stop him from what he needed to do.
Standing ready, Hector's left hand slid into his coat to grab a few knives as he readied himself for the inevitable onslaught of undead. His right hand, meanwhile, was held up to expose the five crosses on his right forearm, held up almost as if to hold up an actual cross in prayer.
"Restless dead, I will free you of your slavery."
With his statement to the restless dead complete, the fast, deathmarch of the undead phalanx started to cross the town square. Hector responded in kind, instantly tossing a barrage of six knives at gaps in the phalanx. The knives, propelled by both his magnetic boost to their velocity and his own superhuman throwing skill, shot through the air and hit true against their targets: the unexposed heads of six zombies at the front of the mock phalanx. Just as Hector had intended, the six monsters lost their heads from the impact, and their undead forms fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
The phalanx quickly broke soon after, its main line defeated, the twelve skeletons of the group, faster then their zombie comrades, broke off from the line and sped forward toward Hector, aiming for blood.
In response, Hector reached to his belt and grabbed Valiant with his right hand, swinging the massive extending chain whip to its full length, the spikes along its length fully extended. It took no more then three alternating horizontal swings to reduce the army of skeletons to little more then piles of bone and bonemeal, their midsections pulverized by the momentum and force of Hector's swings. That left only six zombies, still shambling toward the night hunter in a rather convenient cluster.
Putting Valiant back on his belt, Hector grabbed his sword from the harness on his back and dashed forward and, with simple dodging and countering, found himself on the opposite side of his six opponents in very short order. The Six zombies fell to the ground, released from their torment. Hector, meanwhile, stood triumphantly and unharmed over his fallen (re-dead?) opponents.
"Rest in peace, tortured souls. Your suffering is over."
As the violence came to a close, Hector felt the fires around him slowly begin to die down. Soon, the shadowy figures of civilians began to appear around him: Spectators to the event, of sorts. Maybe someone would point him in the direction of where that Necromancer might be...
Only time would tell.
Down the dirt roads of dawn island a single man rode on horseback through the furious thunder and rain. As the forces of nature beat against him, the man, a night hunter, peered into the distance. What he saw was something expected, but horrifying nonetheless: A village engulfed in flames towering high into the night sky.
"Damn...I'm too late."
The night hunter's brow furrowed, and with grim determination he pressed on. If only he had gotten the information sooner: If only that foul necromancer had been caught by the proper authorities before he could have gotten onto dawn island...No, that didn't matter now. What mattered was that events had unfolded the way they had and that now it was this young man's responsibility to set things right. Hector C. Vinland, Bounty Hunter and Night Hunter, would see to it that no one else fell to the whims of this particular necromancer. There would be justice tonight.
Hector rode through the fury of the storm and, after minutes that felt like hours, eventually found himself in the center of the town in flames. Having let his horse flee from the seemingly unquenchable fires in the night, Hector simply strode into the center of the small town, unafraid of the monsters he knew to be there. It did not take long for said monsters to come and greet him.
Streaming out from the houses and buildings, alongside a few remaining villagers and civilians fleeing for their lives, was a small army of skeletons and zombies of many shapes and sizes. Not surprising, considering the fact that a necromancer was indeed in close proximity to the town. It did not take long for the skeletons and zombies to cluster together and organize themselves, indicating a limited degree of "intelligence" amongst their collective whole. Mark of an intermediate necromancer alright...
This left the situation of Hector standing alone (from what he could tell) with a mix of roughly twenty four skeletons and zombies standing in a phalanx formation standing opposite of him in the empty town square. Armed to the teeth with a range of objects from swords to pitchforks and even armed with a substantial amount of armor. Roughly 2/3rds of them had shields, making the phalanx possible. Hector, however, was not concerned. No firearms? no problem even if they had them. He was a Night Hunter, no skeletons or zombies, midget or otherwise, would stop him from what he needed to do.
Standing ready, Hector's left hand slid into his coat to grab a few knives as he readied himself for the inevitable onslaught of undead. His right hand, meanwhile, was held up to expose the five crosses on his right forearm, held up almost as if to hold up an actual cross in prayer.
"Restless dead, I will free you of your slavery."
With his statement to the restless dead complete, the fast, deathmarch of the undead phalanx started to cross the town square. Hector responded in kind, instantly tossing a barrage of six knives at gaps in the phalanx. The knives, propelled by both his magnetic boost to their velocity and his own superhuman throwing skill, shot through the air and hit true against their targets: the unexposed heads of six zombies at the front of the mock phalanx. Just as Hector had intended, the six monsters lost their heads from the impact, and their undead forms fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
The phalanx quickly broke soon after, its main line defeated, the twelve skeletons of the group, faster then their zombie comrades, broke off from the line and sped forward toward Hector, aiming for blood.
In response, Hector reached to his belt and grabbed Valiant with his right hand, swinging the massive extending chain whip to its full length, the spikes along its length fully extended. It took no more then three alternating horizontal swings to reduce the army of skeletons to little more then piles of bone and bonemeal, their midsections pulverized by the momentum and force of Hector's swings. That left only six zombies, still shambling toward the night hunter in a rather convenient cluster.
Putting Valiant back on his belt, Hector grabbed his sword from the harness on his back and dashed forward and, with simple dodging and countering, found himself on the opposite side of his six opponents in very short order. The Six zombies fell to the ground, released from their torment. Hector, meanwhile, stood triumphantly and unharmed over his fallen (re-dead?) opponents.
"Rest in peace, tortured souls. Your suffering is over."
As the violence came to a close, Hector felt the fires around him slowly begin to die down. Soon, the shadowy figures of civilians began to appear around him: Spectators to the event, of sorts. Maybe someone would point him in the direction of where that Necromancer might be...
Only time would tell.
