"They're coming from the northwest, sir!"
Horns blew around me as I waited for orders from the General. His brutish form was pouring over maps scattered across a rapidly erected table. Part of me wanted to ask the Orc if he needed help reading the bloody maps, but I held my tongue. I've learned his kind are the best to follow in a battle, even if they are painfully slow. His eyes kept flicking up to the newer addition of our small force. She was, like me, an elf and obviously a ditzy one; she was wearing thick black and green robes in a hot terrain, how ridiculous. Green was so not in this season. The little elf just leaned back against the columns and did her nails; bright pink which clashed with the green and black horribly.
"Sir, seriously, you should give out orders soon. I'd offer my hand at the turrets, since I'm more than likely the only one with a graceful hand who is strong enough to work them." I charitably suggested, being the gentleman I am. The turrets were amazing pieces of machinery; heavy, accurate, and most importantly powerful. My need for power came alive when I sat upon the guns, filling my entire being with pure pleasure and sating my lust. I didn't even need a woman to give me pleasure so long as I had that blissful gun between my legs. Moving off as if I had already been giving the order (the Orc wouldn't be as dense as to not put me on them, right?) I gave a short salute and turned, only to find his heavy hand on my shoulder and sticking my face into a map.
"You hurt tanks here… on foot." His order fell flatly onto my magnificent ears. I had heard him incorrectly, surely.
"Come again? Who will mind the turrets?" I allowed him to clear up his mistake by acting as if I didn't understand.
"She minds turrets. You hurt tanks here and here." He nodded to the she-elf then marked the maps for me to guide where I'd be 'hurting' the tanks.
Shock engulfed me. This little she-elf didn't look like she was strong enough to even walk in her heavy robes nonetheless be able to control a gun weighing a few tons. Her hands were delicately wrapped in cloth as if they would get hurt by any little thing and needed lots of padding to escape bruising. My eyes flicked towards her, the red on my cheeks burning freely as my anger mounted. The little bitch's response was a shrug then turned to walk off; she paused only to grab the bombs she'd be gunning towards the Alliance. A smirk curled my lips as the delicious thought of her falling from the weight entertained my mind. I watched, ignoring my orders so I could see the magnificent moment of her failure; only to be stunned at her smooth motions of picking up four packs (two in each hand where as I only carry one in each) and shouldering them with ease. Wait. What? I blinked a few times, this obviously was not possible. What kind of nail polish was she using?!
Being pushed forward, my staff put into my hands, was the only thing waking me from the daze she put me in. Growling, I shrugged and trudged forward towards the front line, I bet she doesn't even know how to work the guns. They'll be begging me to work them later, I am sure. Dusting my wonderful black curls out of my face, I hopped over the gate with grace to land where the Alliance ships were pulling up. Looking back towards our turrets, I only saw the she-elf sitting against the wall, slim blood thistle was wrapped between her lips; the smoke curling up and then sparking to nothing. My stomach knotted, she was going to try to man her gun while under the effects of the thistle? I should give her a blast of arcane to the face… No. Wait. I should do nothing. That harlot just signed her way out of the force… leaving me to be the hero at those wonderful turrets. Perfect.
Horns blew, causing my eyes to shift to the boats pulling in to the docks; my time to shine. A round-eyed gnome poked her head out from the side of the boat and rushed down the plank. Fluttering my eyes closed, I allowed my arcane power to crackle around my body; my mind dropped into that state of perfection it loved. The threads of my very soul vibrated with the power I was about to channel through my body. And then I reached out for the ley-lines; the perfect connection. My eyes opened, capturing the gnome right before she slipped into the shadows. And then my magic was all I could see. The colors were oh so wonderful in this light- the colors of her small body being penetrated with raw power, her leathers curling into shock and her body writhing in pain for a moment. I watched for a few seconds before ending her life, my eyes already looking for my next target.
He was a buggy eyed human, his body shivering under his robes as he gazed upon his fallen comrade. The staff he clutched at shook for a moment as it hummed with power, placing a translucent bubble around him. He weakly gave a smirk my way and then took a step back, seeing if anyone would come to his rescue. Licking my lips, I allowed my essence to reach out to the power of the ley-lines, the power to infusing my body with raw arcane. The human's eyes bulged and shifted off of me and to the sky over my shoulder- more than likely praying to the 'Light.' Oh, I'll show him Li…
A bomb went off right before me, landing on the human and causing intense damage to the boat. Alliance filth swarmed to the top finally, yelling to get the demolishers up and off the craft. Time slowed around me as I watched them run by me, not even taking notice of the essence of danger and pain personified as a perfectly handsome male elf. I was shoved out of my shock by a dwarf woman ramming into my side and forcing me off the dock. I landed in the water with a splash, the color of my robes better not run toge…
Another bomb went off, this time in the middle of the ship where the large tanks were being pulled onto shore. The explosive took out a few Alliance, destroyed one tank, and severely crippled another. It wouldn't be able to be moved until an engineer could fix the engine. A swarm of gnomes and dwarves rushed to the demolisher, the voices coming out quickly in their own tongue. Behind me, a group of humans worked to get everyone else off the ship, until a wail was heard above all the noise. Another bomb crashed into the group, effectively wiping the rest of the group other than the engineers.
Growling, I pulled myself to the ship, blinking out of the water and amidst the small humanoids. Flicking my hair out of my eyes, I enjoyed the rush of fear settling into the very air of what remained of the ship. With a small snap of my fingers, I froze those left in place and charged up my arcane, letting it build inside my core and then let go. An explosion erupted around me, the pure power overloading the systems of the engineers. The ice was a nice effect, none could move to writhe in pain as I let the rogue do. Pausing for a few moments, I looked down at my ruined robes and dusted them off. A shame the colors ran, they looked so good with my eyes. Looking up to see the ice beginning to melt under the hot sun, I allowed a smaller blast rip through me, killing all beings left on the ship other than myself. My eyes settled on a large stack of explosives I assumed they were going to try and use to gain entrance into the keep. With a small flare, I set one of the boxes on fire and blinked from the ship.
Back on the shore, my eyes drifted back to the turrets, locking with the she-elf's own eyes. Seeing our job was finished, she simply powered down the gun and walked off, blood thistle wrap back between her lips and a curl of smoke following in her trail.
Bitch.