Machinations of Conflict

Hearing Gorzoc, Xa'Gun corrected his stance and pulled his weapon from the corpse, even as the sword biting into his shoulder plunged into him again...

"IF I DON'T KILL YOU ALL! YOU'LL TAKE ME FOR A SPIRITS DAMNED DOG!" Xa'Gun bellowed, as he turned and threw his axe at the shield-bearer, knocking him to one knee, but was unscathed.

"YOU!"

Xa'Gun took his now free hand and clawed at the sword wielder. His left arm was weakened due to the wound inflected, but anger coursed through Xa'Gun's veins.

Hand connected to throat, Xa'Gun's crushing grip caused the swordsman's eyes to bug ever so slightly in their sockets.

A flailing of his large two-hand sword cut across Xa'Gun's chest, "Ugh!" Howled the human.

"XA'GUN MIGHT HAVE STAVED OFF THE SHEILD-BEARING HUMAN FOR NOW, BUT HOW LONG CAN HE LAST WITHOUT HIS WEAPON!"

Observing from the arena stands, Gorzoc shook his head, "When we get back, I'll teach that boy to have more respect for his weapon." Jukzuk nodded, as he too thought that releasing his weapon at this moment wasn't that great of a strategy, if strategy it could be called.

The shield-bearer took his stance again and closed in on Xa'Gun. Rushing at him with a shield bash, Xa'Gun was knocked down while still gripping the swordsman's throat.

"Barda! I'M COMING!" The shield-bearer strained his voice to scream above the cheers, the blood, and the battle!

Xa'Gun looked down to see the deep fear in the eyes of the human.

"This pleases me!" Xa'Gun produced a hair-raising smile, and quickly with his hand, though weakened, he placed it on top of the swordsman's head and began to twist.

"AHHHH!" A blood-retching roar issued from Xa'Gun's tuskless mouth, as the shield-bearer's short sword sliced across his back. Surprise crossed the shield-bearer's face, as the cut was not as deep as he thought it would be… Xa'Gun's scarred leather hide was much tougher than anyone knew… Even Xa'Gun…

"I WILL NOT BE STOPPED!"

Twist, twist, and twist...

Crack!

"AND THAT FOLKS IS ANOTHER KILL FOR XA'GUN!!!! BUT CAN HE MAKE IT TO THE LAST!!! THAT'S A LOT OF BLOOOOOOD LOOOOOOSS!!!"

"BARDA! YOU DAMN DIRTY TRAITOR! OOOAHHHH!!!"

From the stands a smug-looking Orc warrior turned to the chieftain and spoke, "And this warrior shows promise? I think he shows more blood than mettle."

Varbuk Blacktongue, current chieftain of the Blacktongue, grunted, and spoke, "Boy, my clan has decided to allow you passage through these mountains, and I already have a plan for you."

"Oh, and what can this Cavekiller do for you?" Knarog Cavekiller smirked, as he watched the bloodshed below.

Lowering his voice, and leaning into Knarog's direction, the Chieftain spoke in a whisper, "I'm willing to allow you to court my adopted daughter Hellie. I only ask that Xa'Gun be deprived of her and that she falls for you... Can you do it, boy?"

"My Cavekiller clan has no boys, only red-blooded Orcs."

"Then...?"

"This Xa'Gun might grow to be powerful later, but by then, I will have this dove named Hellie cooing for me... But... Can I ask why are you willing to give your adopted daughter to me, and not to someone else in your clan?"

The Chieftain grunted and sat back up, as he looked down the stands to see Hellie cheering for Xa'Gun next to Demze.

"Alas..." Varbuk grunted and started again, "Because no one else here can handle her. I'm hedging my bets on you, and with this, I hope that the Cavekiller clan can pledge brotherhood with Us, Blacktongues."

"You mean pledge brotherhood to you, Chieftain..."

"I am the clan."

"THAT'S TWO DOWN, BUT DOES XA'GUN HAVE THE BLOOD PRESSURE TO TAKE DOWN THE LAST HUMAN!!!"

"I see..." Knarog turned his attention back to the arena, as he spoke, "Well, I see this as something that benefits us both, and I even get a prize out of it... I see no reason that I, Knarog Cavekiller, son of the Cavekiller clan Chieftain, to pass up this tasty offer."

"Then I welcome my brothers from the Cavekiller clan." The Chieftain roared with laughter, at his success.

"Then besides the prized doll... What about my cultivation?"

"Ghostberries are widely valued, but you must know that once you start eating them, you must never stop or fear your cultivation drying up..."

"As brothers to the Blacktongues, I see no reason for a shortage."

"You, I will make an exception, but only after you have wooed Hellie. Understand?" Varbuk barked in a low rough tone, and a pressure befitting Varbuk's cultivation realm of Warchief pressed down upon Knarog.

Gritting his teeth, Knarog spoke, "Don't forget my father, too, is a Warchief."

As the pressure lessened quickly upon Knarog, Varbuk spoke back, "He's not here... I am, and in time, I will be your father-in-law."

Knarog grunted in acknowledgment, [Not if I play her to death, and when the dust settles we will see who eats who...] Knarog rubbed the tribal tattoo of the Feaststalker Caste that lay upon his left chest muscle.

"FIERCE FOLKS! THIS SHIELD-BEARING HUMAN IS A TOUGH NUT TO CRACK FOR XA'GUN!!! WILL XA'GUN BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEED OUUUUUUUUUUUT!!!"

"FUCK THAT HUMAN! FUCK HIS MOTHER'S MOTHER! FUCK HIS WHOLE FAMILY!" Hellie yelled as she saw the wounds inflicted on Xa'Gun. She was sure that he would be okay with his bit of cultivation, but her heart wrenched as she saw the blood from Xa'Gun's shoulder and gnarled back running freely.

Xa'Gun tucked and dodge-rolled to the side, causing dirt to adhere to the sweat and blood upon his body.

The Shield-bearer narrowed his eyes, as he glanced at the lifeless bodies of his two comrades.

"I'll make you pay... I know you understand me, traitor." The Shield-bearer spat as he began slowly circling Xa'Gun with his sword and shield at the ready.

"What does it matter if I can understand." Xa'Gun began to feel his body getting heavier.

[Master Gorzoc said blood is strength, and I'm losing much... Quickly... Must win quickly.] Xa'Gun thought to himself as he took a few steps back, and was able to retrieve his axe.

"Stupid human didn't kick away the boy's weapon... A mistake on his part." Gorzoc commented as Jukzuk sat on the edge of his seat in the stands of the arena. The wounds taken so far were enough to kill a Fighter rank cultivator, like Xa'Gun. Jukzuk looked up the stands, as he was seated with Gorzoc today, to Varbuk, the chieftain of the Blacktongues, and a visiting orc from the Cavekillers... Jukzuk didn't know why, yet, but felt this did not bode well.

Xa'Gun ripped the axe in his hands tightly and noticed that he could no longer raise his left arm at the shoulder. A grim expression crossed his face as he, too, circled the Shield-Bearing human.

"Simon spoke of you, traitor. Know that I may die today, but Simon will take your head!"

"...Simon... Hmph!" Xa'Gun grunted in disdain, though orcish, the human still understood the meaning.

Xa'Gun's legs still worked as always, and with blood still spilling from his wounds, pressure high in his veins bringing him closer to death's domain, he commanded his lower limbs to charge... And they obeyed their master.

With reckless fury, Xa'Gun launched himself at his target, with a speed that did not match his size.

Forcing his left arm, with a white knuckles grip, Xa'Gun lifted his axe high in the air.

STEP!

"IS THIS IT FOLKS?! REMEMBER THE LAST HUMAN WITH A SHIELD! WILL...! WE...! SEE...! A REEEEEEPEEEEEEAT!!!"