h1

to rp or not to rp, that is the question

February 15, 2007

((This is part of a role playing thread I started in my old Warcraft guild. The game has a Player vs player battleground named Alterac Vallery. That is where this was supposed to take place. Just showing off some of my writing. There’s part’s in between written by other people, but I omitted those, because Snorri writes better than I do.))

Walin ran forward, the leading orc in his path. They met with the clang of steel on steel. His sword was parried multiple times, his axe wrking furiously to block and parry as well. Each scored several small hits. They seemed a fairly even match. This fight wasn’t going to be won with the strength and skill of a warrior. It would depend on the mana pool of a healer or two, and the buffs that come along with them.

He parried a vicious blow, but did not catch the foot that came up to say hello to his stomach. He nearly fell then. This one was strong.

He swung out the axe, immediately following the parry with his own fist into the orc’s gut. The orc doubled over, the wind knocked out of him. His knee shot up into the beast’s chin. That’s what they call a Stormwind Handshake. Time spent in those back alleys taught him that fighting with honor put you at a severe risk of death. No such thing as a fair fight when a gnome has a broken bottle slashing at your kneecaps. They weren’t easy but he was togher because of it.

He took a few steps backwards, then charged again, his shoulder out to make friends with the Orc’s face again. Unfortunately the orc had the same idea. Their shoulders banged together, as did their heads. Walin was at a disadvantage there. His forehead spurted blood. Splashing on the ord’s face. He staggered back, dazed.

He looked through a haze. The orc’s tongue ran out, lapping up the blood. Walin made a rude gesture and rushed forth again. Once more they met in the middle. His axe and sword both holding back the orc’s axe. They were eye to eye. Laughing? Is this ugly son of a bitch laughing?

Walin spit in the orc’s eye, well the one good one he had left. This one had seen many battles. Scars riddled his exposed skin. He wasn’t a green one… well, he WAS green but not… nevermind…

His arms burned. His legs ached. His eyes were blurred from his blood. He could still hear that laughing, inches from his face. He felt himself giving ground. He was gonna lose this if he didn’t do something fast.

What he did next was something rarely seen. It was such a horrendous act, he thought he would later tell the story to his grandkids, as his Granpappy Walin I told him. If he had grandkids.

He once heard of someone cutting off their nose to spite their face. Well, in spite of this orc’s laughter, he lost his nose when Walin bit it off. The orc backed off, hands on his face, axe falling to the ground. That was his opening, and he took advantage. His sword stabbed forward, in the armpit of the armor where, hiw axe’s pick-like defensive end slammed up into other. The howl was long and loud, but went silent when Walin’s foot slammed up into the groin of his adversary. The orc let out a small, pathetic whimper as he slumped to the ground.

Walin fell with him out of exhaustion if nothing else. He reached into his pack and was gong to drink a potion when he realised he still clenched that nose between his teeth. At that point he spit it out and threw up a little in his mouth. Luckily, the potion tasted even more foul.

He stood up and surveyed the battle. Given what was happening, things seemed to be going ratehr well, he believed. The enemy was beginning to retreat with their leader lost.

He reached down casually to pull the sword out. He tugged. He tugged again. He yanked. He cursed, and gripped with both hands to pull. A troll was sneaking up on him from behind. Dagger at the ready. Before he could strike the sword yanked free, Walin stumbled backwards, his elbow slammed back and into the troll’s jaw knocking him unconcious, Walin then tripped on the troll and fell on top of him, landing a devastating body slam on the poor fellow.

As Walin lay there he wondered if this would be included int he song about him. That’s when he saw Snorri kill a nearby human. He just stopped. Shocked filled him and he just watched as Revy’s pyroblast lit the dwarf ablaze.

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