Post by Mr. Prezident on May 11, 2018 11:45:58 GMT -6
Ya you know it. Graphic and macabre of course but I love it. I kinda like the shock factor tbh >.>
A savage looking man clad in spiked obsidian armor stood atop a pile of dead bodies. His enemies fled in fear and his comrades gave him a wide berth in battle. Rage emanated from the soldier, but he struck with cold and ruthless precision. Few could stand before his wrath. Sword in one hand and mace in the other, this human was a being of unrivalled destruction, champion of a dark army. The battle lulled as the allied nations against them fell back. A boy the tender age of 15 approached the champion. The boy was clad in only chain and leather.
"We've beaten them back Drax! Everything you taught me paid off, hopefully one day i will rival you as a solder," Veltrich said with determination in his voice.
Draxxis sheathed his sword, resting his hand on his comrades shoulder. Once we have done our duty, we will all enjoy the finer things in life."
The naive lad did not truly understand war yet; it is a dark, miserable thing. Too many good men die. Drax barely knew how he had survived himself. Once, he had nearly been blown to pieces by a powerful spellcaster. The champion could not let any more of his brothers-in-arms die. Marching feet could be heard as the enemy prepared to counter-attack. Draxxis ordered Vel back into formation. If Drax was a good enough soldier, if he killed enough men, then maybe his brothers could live even if Drax died in the process.
The armies traded arrow volleys as the infantry was about to clash. Drax let arrows ricochet off his heavy armor as he moved into his battle stance. An arrow lodged itself inbetween the plating just above his knee. He grunted before shearing off most of the arrow with a quick swing. The doctors could worry about it later. As the enemy closed in, the champion realized the approaching heavy infantry would give them a harder fight. Even so, they werent ready for his attack. Drax feinted a sword stab, causing the enemy to flinch. With amazing speed, he brought his mace down in an overhand strike. With a crumpled skull, the infantryman collapsed. Taking advantage of the gap in formation, Drax stabbed at the next vulnerable soldier. It was a raking blow but enough to stagger the man. Another enemy was quick to strike Drax, but the flesh wound only made his blood boil in anticipation.
Drax brought the mace around, smashing his opponent in the side and possibly cracking a few ribs. A sword stab to the throat finished him off quickly. By this time, more allies had closed in to support drax. Drax soon found Vel fighting side by side with him, and their enemy fell in droves before them. Soon the ranks became scattered as fighting intensified. Formations inter-mingled but Drax and Vel managed to hold together and destroy any opposition. Their synergy was divine.
With three shots from a skilled archer, Drax's greatest fear would be realized. He felt as though he was in a dream. Everything seemed surreal. Veltrich collapsed to the ground as his chest was now filled with the arrows. Without thought, Draxxis fell to his knees, dropping his weapons and throwing his helmet aside. He gently held Veltrich in his arms. The young mans only expression was a wide eyed look of shock as he struggled for life. They locked eyes as Drax comforted the dying lad. Vels expression did not change, but he stared into Drax's eyes as he twitched haphazardly. Drax rocked him gently, helpless and worthless. After what seemed like an eternity, Vel finally expired, his body going limp and his eyes glazing over. Drax hesitated as he felt the emotions building inside of him. Veltrich was a good, noble man. He did not deserve this fate. Everything instantly became extremely vivid, every detail etching itself in Drax's mind. With a blood-curdling warcry, Drax rose to his feet with arms in hand. The world itself seemed alive with strokes of color as Drax swirled about, a cyclone of death. He cut down any enemy in sight before closing with the remainder of the enemies lines. Drax shirked off deep wounds as he cut through men like never before. Rage empowered his every motion.
Three men fell in three swings. Two more men stood before Drax in unison, but he was not phased. He brought the mace around, nearly staggering the man with the might of his swing. Draxxis stabbed with his sword. It barely wounded the man but it was enough to send him sprawling on his back. The second soldier stabbed his spear into the fold of Drax's armor, puncturing several inches into the champions side. Drax shifted his weight, allowing the spear to drive further into his side. Man and weapon fell away as Drax stabbed him in the neck. He turned to the soldier still struggling to get back on his feet
Drax was numb to the look of fear as he fell upon the soldier. He let out more screams of rage as he bashed the mans face in. Two blows were enough to kill him. More soldiers enclosed on him as he kept striking the man repeatedly. Drax felt his skull cave with each blow, his wide eyes focused on the bloody mess that was a face only moments ago. It took seven men stabbing Drax continuously to end his rampage. He could only feel regret and rage as he blacked out, slumping to the ground.
---
Despite his fading memories, Draxxis could never forget that first time he died. It was burnt into his mind, a wound upon his very soul. Now, he wandered aimlessly in this accursed land of the undead. He scoffed at the idea of a "chosen" undead; one didnt need to travel far to see the truth of it. Hollows filled the decaying cities and forests. Sometimes he pondered how he had not gone hollow yet. But he knew himself. If nothing else, to survive so his brothers could live in memory was enough to stay the hollowing. Dravick sighed, appreciating the warmth and comfort of the bonfire once more. It was time to descend into darkness. He stood up and rolled his shoulders in the Elite Knight armor he bore, preparing himself. He lifted his claymore and kite shield, leaving safety for suffering
A savage looking man clad in spiked obsidian armor stood atop a pile of dead bodies. His enemies fled in fear and his comrades gave him a wide berth in battle. Rage emanated from the soldier, but he struck with cold and ruthless precision. Few could stand before his wrath. Sword in one hand and mace in the other, this human was a being of unrivalled destruction, champion of a dark army. The battle lulled as the allied nations against them fell back. A boy the tender age of 15 approached the champion. The boy was clad in only chain and leather.
"We've beaten them back Drax! Everything you taught me paid off, hopefully one day i will rival you as a solder," Veltrich said with determination in his voice.
Draxxis sheathed his sword, resting his hand on his comrades shoulder. Once we have done our duty, we will all enjoy the finer things in life."
The naive lad did not truly understand war yet; it is a dark, miserable thing. Too many good men die. Drax barely knew how he had survived himself. Once, he had nearly been blown to pieces by a powerful spellcaster. The champion could not let any more of his brothers-in-arms die. Marching feet could be heard as the enemy prepared to counter-attack. Draxxis ordered Vel back into formation. If Drax was a good enough soldier, if he killed enough men, then maybe his brothers could live even if Drax died in the process.
The armies traded arrow volleys as the infantry was about to clash. Drax let arrows ricochet off his heavy armor as he moved into his battle stance. An arrow lodged itself inbetween the plating just above his knee. He grunted before shearing off most of the arrow with a quick swing. The doctors could worry about it later. As the enemy closed in, the champion realized the approaching heavy infantry would give them a harder fight. Even so, they werent ready for his attack. Drax feinted a sword stab, causing the enemy to flinch. With amazing speed, he brought his mace down in an overhand strike. With a crumpled skull, the infantryman collapsed. Taking advantage of the gap in formation, Drax stabbed at the next vulnerable soldier. It was a raking blow but enough to stagger the man. Another enemy was quick to strike Drax, but the flesh wound only made his blood boil in anticipation.
Drax brought the mace around, smashing his opponent in the side and possibly cracking a few ribs. A sword stab to the throat finished him off quickly. By this time, more allies had closed in to support drax. Drax soon found Vel fighting side by side with him, and their enemy fell in droves before them. Soon the ranks became scattered as fighting intensified. Formations inter-mingled but Drax and Vel managed to hold together and destroy any opposition. Their synergy was divine.
With three shots from a skilled archer, Drax's greatest fear would be realized. He felt as though he was in a dream. Everything seemed surreal. Veltrich collapsed to the ground as his chest was now filled with the arrows. Without thought, Draxxis fell to his knees, dropping his weapons and throwing his helmet aside. He gently held Veltrich in his arms. The young mans only expression was a wide eyed look of shock as he struggled for life. They locked eyes as Drax comforted the dying lad. Vels expression did not change, but he stared into Drax's eyes as he twitched haphazardly. Drax rocked him gently, helpless and worthless. After what seemed like an eternity, Vel finally expired, his body going limp and his eyes glazing over. Drax hesitated as he felt the emotions building inside of him. Veltrich was a good, noble man. He did not deserve this fate. Everything instantly became extremely vivid, every detail etching itself in Drax's mind. With a blood-curdling warcry, Drax rose to his feet with arms in hand. The world itself seemed alive with strokes of color as Drax swirled about, a cyclone of death. He cut down any enemy in sight before closing with the remainder of the enemies lines. Drax shirked off deep wounds as he cut through men like never before. Rage empowered his every motion.
Three men fell in three swings. Two more men stood before Drax in unison, but he was not phased. He brought the mace around, nearly staggering the man with the might of his swing. Draxxis stabbed with his sword. It barely wounded the man but it was enough to send him sprawling on his back. The second soldier stabbed his spear into the fold of Drax's armor, puncturing several inches into the champions side. Drax shifted his weight, allowing the spear to drive further into his side. Man and weapon fell away as Drax stabbed him in the neck. He turned to the soldier still struggling to get back on his feet
Drax was numb to the look of fear as he fell upon the soldier. He let out more screams of rage as he bashed the mans face in. Two blows were enough to kill him. More soldiers enclosed on him as he kept striking the man repeatedly. Drax felt his skull cave with each blow, his wide eyes focused on the bloody mess that was a face only moments ago. It took seven men stabbing Drax continuously to end his rampage. He could only feel regret and rage as he blacked out, slumping to the ground.
---
Despite his fading memories, Draxxis could never forget that first time he died. It was burnt into his mind, a wound upon his very soul. Now, he wandered aimlessly in this accursed land of the undead. He scoffed at the idea of a "chosen" undead; one didnt need to travel far to see the truth of it. Hollows filled the decaying cities and forests. Sometimes he pondered how he had not gone hollow yet. But he knew himself. If nothing else, to survive so his brothers could live in memory was enough to stay the hollowing. Dravick sighed, appreciating the warmth and comfort of the bonfire once more. It was time to descend into darkness. He stood up and rolled his shoulders in the Elite Knight armor he bore, preparing himself. He lifted his claymore and kite shield, leaving safety for suffering
