A Knight's Tale, part the first (OPEN)

[redford]

John's mind raced for some plan of action as the full-blood giant approached, the permanent scowl on his face even more pronounced now. All this time he had been the bigger one by far, and now he had to switch his mindset. He looked around the shed for something.....

...and then saw that the barrels he'd crashed into were full of blasting powder.

John's eyes widened as he snapped his fingers, a cigar appearing between his fingers. A quick second snap, and it was lit, the smoldering end ready to light the mountains of powder in the room and send the giant back to the earth he was born from. Hopefully he wouldn't be among those taken by the blast.

John thought absently that this was either one of his best ideas, or one of his worst, there was no in between.

He tossed the cigar into the air behind him as he watched the full-blood giant raise his maul to crush the shed with him inside. Before the cigar's arc ended, John activated a ring, feeling a tingling all over his body as jade-like stone covered him, deadening his senses and rendering his sight into shades of green. The second layer of armor would only last for a moment.

But a moment was enough.

A flash of white exploded in his vision, but he felt nothing. Hopefully the giant was close enough to be caught in the blast. A moment later and the jade began to crack, and John could move again, his vision and hearing coming back. The small house he stood in was blown apart, the walls and roof simply gone, flaming bits and pieces of wood strewn about the courtyard. The giant clutched his beard and burning tunic, stomping around the battlefield as he tried to put them out as a few soldiers clutched burning pieces of the house embedded in their bodies.

John stepped back out of what was now a smoldering, scorched plot of earth, giant chunks of burning jade armor sloughing off of him, exposing the silvery armor underneath. The soldiers close by that weren't hit by burning shrapnel looked on in terror at the half-giant. He was neither man nor golem to them, but something else. The three of them were aspects of judgment, implacable until they had taken their vengeance.

John readied himself. The giant was still alive, and by now had put himself out, but tilted his head, seeing with only one unburned eye and holding his hammer now with a single hand.

[The Mongrel]

My wound tingled, then burned, as though a cold fire was cauterizing me from the inside out. Had I been gifted healing while in Pode's grove, or after? What reason could the Stars possibly have for maintaining the blessings bestowed upon me, or for adding new ones? My skin closed beneath my fingers, and I wheezed in a couple of agonized breaths before I could answer Casimir.

"I'm fine. Barely a scratch." The strain in my voice belied the pain in my belly, but I'm not sure he could really hear anything I was saying over the clamor raging on the other side of Cromwell's shield. "Couldn't call myself an elf if I wasn't unnecessarily dramatic at inconvenient moments, you know." I punched my green companion on the arm, just enough to rattle his mail, really. It wasn't the most appropriate way to address a knight, but the orc in him would understand the gratitude in the gesture.

"I'm over it, I'm good, let's -" Anything I was about to say got drowned out by an explosion that rumbled through the cavern far more gently than it tore through my eardrums and skull. Instead of "fight," the words that fell from my lips were an amalgam of profanities from the elven and orcish tongues.

Determined to find and execute whichever of the boorish edanen who had assaulted my senses, I snatched up my longbow and quiver. I could see the source immediately, or at least the effect - a burned and blistered giant reeled at the back of the cave, and the tip of a shiny nose peeked out from what had presumably been a black powder room.

If Cromwell and I both survive this battle, I am going to use him as target practice. ... and what, by all the dark gods, do they have black powder for?

Arrows screamed forth from my stolen bow, striking their targets with meaty thunks and satisfying thumps. The mage and leader watched coldly, with the latter shouting orders and abuse at his men and the former keeping his condescending leer on me.

He, like me, was half Raiaeran - his ears rose to gentle points, and his features had a clean sharpness that humans lacked. But his build was too stocky, his eyes too young to be fully elven. No, their mage was half human.

He pointed at me, and a rippling wave of blue energy sped toward my chest. Without thinking, I aimed my last long arrow at it. Rather than glowing silver with Cuarye's blessing, it glowed a bright orange gold on its journey. The spell and arrow collided in mid air, sending out a shockwave that leveled most of the remaining bandit troops.

"Is that how it's to be, you dark-skinned whore?" Oh, that bastard had the Raiaeran hatred for any "lesser" race down. His parent must have been proud of him. "Shall I teach you a lesson, then?"

"Humans can hardly learn, much less teach." The retort fell from my lips before I could restrain it. "How about I send you screaming back to the mother whose tit you just detatched from instead?"

[SerCasimir]

Casimir managed a smile at Lady Kon, her presence and levity helping to buoy his own fighting spirit. He turned once more to face the advancing bandit chief, only for an explosion to rock the camp. Casimir threw his shield over himself and Kon reflexively, then turned, snarling toward the source of the blast. He saw Cromwell rising from the ruin of a shed, and the giant stomping as he tried to put himself out, the screams of men impaled by burning wood and stone rising all around.

Steel your mind. There is only your foe, his blade. All else is meaningless.

He vaguely heard Kon challenging their mage as he walked forward, placing the flat of Hecatoncheir against the brow of his helm. Another brilliant flash of energy and a wave of force washed over him, pushing him against an oak post. He righted himself, and stood a few paces from the chief, who was smiling wickedly as he brought his axe into a ready position.

"I am Ser Casimir Taryndor, son of Garrison and Lokra who slew the Sanguine King."

Casimir gave him a moment to announce himself, but was unsurprised when he charged, swinging his wicked axe in a wide arc. Casimir dodged the blow, but was surprised as his foe deftly redirected, cracking him in the side with the haft of the axe.

He is strong, and fast. I am not sure I can master him.

He swung his axe again, and rather than dodge Cas caught the haft of the axe with Hecatoncheir slamming his shield forward to drive the chief back. He took a slash at his foes head, but he was too swift and recovered, lashing out a strong kick to the shield Cas bore. Cas turned with the force of the blow and brought his sword across in a backhanded slash which his foe easily blocked.

The two warriors separated again, sizing each other up and catching their breath for the next exchange. Cas knew he was reaching the limits of even his formidable endurance.

[redford]

John glanced in the direction of his half-breed companions, briefly entertaining thoughts of aiding them. He could, but it would draw the giant with him, and he doubted the battle would go their way if they joined forces. The giant would distract all three of them, while the captain would dart in and out of the fray, and the mage would cast his spells from a distance. It was a good tactic, but relied on the giant staying in the right location. John aimed to make sure the giant couldn't break their makeshift formation.

The full-blood giant swung his hammer down in a wide arc, and John leapt forward, rolling under, aiming to get inside the range of his bad arm, since he couldn't use it. I've got you n-

During his roll, he failed to see the massive foot careening toward him, and barely even recognized it as such before the impact. His limbs snapped forwards as he was thrown back, and he felt something inside him break as he was thrown toward his compatriots.

He landed, bounced, and skidded to a halt on his back just beyond where they were fighting. He vaguely heard a curse from the elf, and the clang of metal from the orc, amidst the pounding in his head. He briefly considered just laying there for a moment before realizing that the giant would turn his attentions to his friends if he should hesitate. He rolled over, rising to one knee, realizing now that the kick had dislocated his shoulder. It hung limply at his side, a reminder that his armor did not protect against everything. He braced his elbow and pushed mightily, crying out in pain as the ball was forced back into place. He swung the newly-repaired extremity, bracing the thing with thicker armor taken from his feet as the pain faded. He stood, hearing a roar from the giant. The remaining soldiers, perhaps twenty men, rallied behind the beast, banging swords on shields, their morale boosted by the giant's victory, temporary though it was.

John frowned as the giant advanced. I cannot let him enter the fray, he thought, knowing that if he could get between the mage and the elf, that it would likely spell their defeat. He walked forward slowly, still waiting for the pain courising through his body to stop. The giant's kick had certainly injured him more than he could afford to let on this moment. He pulled his shield along with him splitting the item with a thought into two war-hammers as the remaining soldiers charged him, screaming with weapons high. He'd have to deal with them first, and hopefully the giant wouldn't be keen on friendly fire.