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| Odd Job; (P) Roark | |
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| Topic Started: Mon Nov 23, 2009 9:35 pm (84 Views) | |
| Orick | Mon Nov 23, 2009 9:35 pm Post #1 |
 
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Orick was sitting atop a small wooden caravan, watching the sand blow by. He had his scarf wrapped around his mouth, guarding it from the blowing sand of the storm. He had been hired to protect the caravan from bandits, and easy enough thing in the middle of a desert. He had been given quite a bit of money, which was always useful, and a sack of food and water. He sat atop the cart now, eating from that bag. He had had nothing to eat for the past few days, and was more ravenous than usual. He sighed and munched on a dried piece of goat, and sorted through the small bag of coins. It would be an easy enough trip right? |
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| Roark | Mon Nov 23, 2009 11:03 pm Post #2 |
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Roark needed money, and he had found money. If there was one thing the former soldier knew how to do it was how to fight, and guarding this caravan was a perfect oppurtunity to make some easy cash. He sat there bored, sitting atop a cart, his masterwork battleaxe and his dwarvern buckler sitting at his feet as he sat upon a wooden crate. His long hair was greasy and was getting frazzled by the sandstorm that was blowing through the desert, sand mixing in with the purple strands. The only thing he had to do was sit here, and the only company he had was some kid, sitting there stuffing his face. Some people would hope that a guard job like this would be uneventful, that the caravan would make it across the desert without any incident and they would get paid. That wasn't the case with Roark. Roark was bored, and the warrior was craving some action, yet so far...nothing. "So kid..." Roark said, adressing the young man sitting across from him. "You seem kinda young to be a caravan guard... You must be gifted as a fighter huh?" Roark laughed. "Or are you one of those people who loves to use magic? I hate to see people who rely too much on magic, gotta know how to survive with just your brains and your brawns I say..." Roark spit off the edge off the edge of the cart. "Anyways, doesn't look like we'll get to have any fun anyways, this desert is empty as far as the eye can see..." Roark gazed around, the sandstorm whipping him in the face. Admittedly you couldn't see that far with the naked eye with the storm, but his statement still stood. "Im Roark, whats yer name kid?" |
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| Orick | Mon Nov 23, 2009 11:14 pm Post #3 |
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When Orick had finished, the man sitting next to him began to speak. "Name's Orick. Yeah, I am only 16 but I can do quite a bit with a staff and my hands. No, I don't know much magic." he shrugged, and stared off into the sand. He spun his staff quietly, watching the sand fly away from the spinning weapon. He sighed and laid back against the top of the caravan. "Well, isn't this just so exciting?" he asked letting sarcasm seep into his voice. He caught a small movement not to far from the caravan. Then another. He looked at the sand and saw a small black shaft. He sat up with a perplexed look on his face and looked deep into the sandstorm. He saw a large black bolt fly from the center of the storm, land deep in the wood. It looked organic, like a huge porcupine quill. Orick nudged his fellow guard and pointed warily and the black barb, at the sandstorm, and made a silencing motion at his lips. |
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| Roark | Mon Nov 23, 2009 11:27 pm Post #4 |
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Roark dropped to the ground as the black bolt pierced the wood of the caravan. Something had attacked them. He picked up his Battleaxe in his right hand and his buckler in his right, crawling over to Orick. The warrior felt the adrenaline running through his blood, the blood frenzy, the start of a battle high. "Orick.." Roark whispered to the other guard. "Grab your weapons..." Roark stood up. "Stop the caravan." he said rather loudly to the merchants they were traveling with. The merchants looked at him with a confused look. He pointed to the black barb stuck in the wood, "Someone is attacking." the warrior said. "If we keep moving they will get a better shot. Well scout to figure out what the hell is going on." Begrudingly the merchants stopped their camels and the carts slowed to a halt. Roark moved to the edge of the cart and hopped off, landing on his feet in the sand. He gestured to Orick. "C'mon, lets take care of this." he said, walking forward. He looked through the sandstorm, trying to get a better look at the attacker, however the thick sand prevented him from getting a good view more than several yards in front of him. Whoever had attacked them, they had some way of seeing through the sand. CLACK! Another black bolt had flew at Roark, but the aim was off and he had quickly deflected the shot with his shield. "Come on out you coward!" the warrior yelled. "Why are you aiming for my shield?" |
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| Orick | Tue Nov 24, 2009 8:44 pm Post #5 |
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Orick looked deep into the sandstorm, sand slamming against his eyes. He caught a blur of movement and saw another black bolt fly toward him. He jumped to the side and growled. The thing seemed to hear him and made a sharp clicking noise back. Orick tilted his head, but obviously The Thing was not happy, and threw another bolt at Orick, which landed in the sand before him. Orick picked it up and looked intently at it. It was barbed, black, and very hard. He sighed and stuffed the thing into his pack. He heard the sound of sand on stone, and he saw a large shape emerge from the sands. It was pitch black, in the shape of a scorpion and spider spliced together, and made one hundred times larger. It scuttled slowly out of the deep sand, and from its tail hung these black barbed bolts. It flicked its tail and Orick and a bolt flew out of the tail. Another black shaft grew in its place, and the creature's bolt slammed into the dirt and Oricks feet. Orick slowly shrugged off his pack, followed by his large coat. He spun his staff and stood his ground, and two other beasts crawled up from beneath the sands. |
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11:24 PM Feb 9
