A.N: I'll start this off by saying thank you for those of you who are reading, you are the main reason why I keep writing and I really appreciate the support, anyway this chapter is a bit graphic and dark, just a heads up.
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Vincent's P.O.V: I can't remember the last time my body didn't hurt, nor the last week we went without being in a skirmish or siege, but for those who manage to live in this life, it pays well, but now I don't care how much money I'm being offered, to go that far behind enemy lines with no backup is suicide. Vincent thought to himself as he recalled the events of last night and his captain saying that they'd been chosen by the king to present a team of "elites" to procure the plans of attack from the enemy stronghold of Drangalore a keep built into the side of a cliff only one way in and out swarming with guards and soldiers along with civilians, and I pulled the short straw well, it'll be time to go soon, better check on my horse and gear.
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A few hours passed and Vincent, a massive orc named Illidith bloodhorn, and a small half elf by the name of Vrangar. Had all started making their way to Drangalore keep. "So,.. Vincent you seem pretty young to be fighting on the front lines" Vrangar spoke prodding Vincent, the three of them had known each other about 3 months and, usually jested and poked each other to learn about one another and lighten moods when things got tense or quiet."I was raised in a band of mercs so what can I say, fighting, its just in my blood" Vincent responded doing his best to make small talk"I'd reckon thats the same for...Ow mother of fuck that hurt"Illidith had thrown a small rock back at Vrangars head to shut him up signalling we were about to cross over into enemy lines and we would soon have to continue on foot.
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Many hours passed and the daylight began to fade the trio had left their horses and sent them back to camp some 7 hours ago and had been travelling in the brush by the side of the road slow and steady until they came to the river crossing and within eyesight of the keep yet it was still about 500yards away."Damn, she's big"Illidith muttered, He was an old orc war chief back when the clans were still free and had any power, Illidith was a veteran of countless battles and had taken many castles, and forts, but never had he seen something like Drangalore it looked massive from a distant and he could only begin to imagine how big it really was."solid observation even a blind man could see that, but what's the difference just like any other Castle 'cept bigger" Vincent spoke in a low voice looking between his compatriots"If we're gonna get in, how should we do it, it's not like we can just walk up into it?"Vrangar asked clearly nervous about the whole ordeal "Hmmm,.. Maybe,.. No that won't work,..."Illidith thought out loud "If we wait for a patrol we could take their armor and hopefully pass as city guards, Illidith it won't work
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with you the Union doesn't care for orcs they're not like the concord from what I've heard, but if we pretend to have taken you prisoner we might be able to pull this off." Vincent devised a poor plan but the only one he could think of, it was likely to fail especially if the people manning the gate knew the guards on patrol"It's a good plan, well it's all we got for now." Illidith's words brought Vincent out of his train of thought. The trio waited and waited until finally,... not a patrol but a caravan heading to the keep showed up,Vincent Looked at the others and nodded before springinging into action first and hid in the back of one of the carts luckily no one saw him, the others followed suit, Illidith almost got caught but luckily Vrangar noticed and threw a rock into the bushes making the people think it was just an animal that had run by. After all the caravan guards were talking about the area and how the roads had become unsafe due to the war bringing highwaymen, and bandits...
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"Papers please,... What's the cargo, no shipments expected this week but if we can use it we'll take it, supplies are low." Vincent could hear the guard at the gate questioning the leader of the caravan and he readied himself for combat. His father's words rang in his mind, 'Remember in this life you can't trust anyone, no man, no woman, no beast, but your steel that you can trust.' But luckily enough the caravan had rations of everything from fresh produce, salted meats to alcoholic beverages and medicine, things every city in a time of war could use. The merchants were led to the bazaar and to an empty stall which was slightly difficult to find due to the lack of lighting. Vincent looked out the front and back of the wagon before quickly slipping out of it and near a small campfire that had a few refugees focused on eating what seemed to be some kind of unappetizing soup, but in war you make do. The others shortly joined Illidith again wasn't the stealthiest but for his size it was slightly impressive,"Well that actually worked."Vrangar spoke surprised that they didn't get caught."Yes one part down, now to get into the keep and find the plans" Illidith spoke looking at his comrades to signal it was time to move…
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They moved quickly keeping to the crowds of people Illidith had grabbed a large shawl and wrapped it around himself to better conceal the fact that he was an orc,"You three there,.. You three with the large and short one stop we need to see your Identification papers." They stopped dead in their tracks. Vrangar muttered something along the lines of, "really come on" knowing he was the short one. Illidith waited for them to get a little closer and then he spun around and with his massive hammer smashed the head of one of the six guards into the wall hard enough to crack the stone alerting the guards on the wall and causing them to raise the alarm. The guards were stunned for a second before 3 darted off in different directions and began screaming for reinforcements within seconds hundreds descended upon the trio….
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Vincent broke off and booked it to the left jumping over a small fence and ducking behind it and following it quickly to hide behind the back of the house. "Death I have never prayed to you before. I have no tongue for it. No one, not even you will remember if we were good men or bad. Why we fought, or why we died. All that matters is that three stood against many. That's what's important! Valor pleases you Death,... So grant me one request. Grant me the death of my enemies by my blade, by my hand! And if you do not listen, then the HELL with you." Vincent spoke with a blood furied voice. Before leaping out and slicing two guards clean in half and immediately after dodging a spear thrust aimed straight at him, ducking to the right and grabbing the spear haft, he sent his sword up threw his neck making a sick sputtering sound as the guard died and choked on his own blood. In one swift motion Vincent took the spear and parried a blow coming down from the right chopping the haft in half and letting Vincent step in and push the broken wood up threw the armor and ribcage making a loud cracking and splintering soun. the guards screams were quickly silenced by the bladed end of the spear. Vincent barely blocked a blow from a hammer, sending him back a few feet and breaking his sword. In the next instant three arrows were loosed at Vincent while two spears closed in from the left, he ducked back to the right throwing the spear head at a soldier near him he then rolled over his back grabbing the man's sword before he fell and throwing his own broken sword into the neck of the archer. Vincent could hear Illidith and Vrangar fighting but no matter how many he killed and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't find them and more and more guards and soldiers were showing up...
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An axe narrowly swung by Vincents head before Vincent sent his knee up into the ribs of his attacker shattering the armor and bone alike he grabbed the axe swung it around his head before cleaving the soldiers head clean off with a loud crack as the axe hit bone and chopped through with a dull thud of the head hitting the ground Vincent didn't know how many he had killed or how long he had been fighting but he knew such thoughts didn't matter all that mattered was fighting, no surviving. He again was shot by an arrow and quickly pulled it out while dodging a sword thrust and then a shield strike which Vincent was grazed by the sword but he grabbed the shield with his free hand and twisted hard breaking the man's arm and then cleaving it off with the axe he then shook the arm off the boss grip* and assumed a fighting stance with the shield covering most of his body and head leaving just his eyes so his vision wasn't impaired. They had backed Vincent into a small courtyard, maybe 10 feet by 10 feet, but a single person entrance and high buildings with no roof access to those buildings around it making it a half decent spot to make a final stand, at least that's what Vincent thought. A swordsman slightly cautious after seeing what this young man was capable of, but nonetheless he fainted high then swung low but Vincent called the bluff and blocked the strike, seeing as how he favored the sword Vincent decided to throw the axe drop the shield charge in from the right and get behind the soldier with almost inhuman speed, Vincent then grabbed the sword arm's wrist twisting
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hard and snapping it he then grabbed the sword as it was falling ducked low and spun in a circle dis-embowling his enemy before quickly picking his shield up seeing as how the one Vincent dropped was beaten and broken and once more Vincent readied himself…
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The night had begun to grow long and his enemies had become scared it was minutes in between rounds the lamps had been doused, the sun was rising, and many of the men still stood weapons at the ready until the Legate Came…"So you are the one who has slaughtered more than 200 of my men. I thought you had been dealt with like your infidel friends, but when a soldier came and told me you had been fighting here in this little courtyard for the better part of 7 hours I had to come see. I don't know why they haven't killed you yet, you don't look very big but I guess size can be deceiving." The Legate's words made his men chuckle, they knew that Legate Terith a half giant, would absolutely demolish the fiendish fighter before them. "Did you come to mock me or will you find out why your men shutter and falter at fighting me." Vincent's voice was coarse and had a strange blood tinged twang to it making him sound otherworldly he was covered in blood, his own and a lot of the enemies. His armor torn to shreds and barely hanging on countless bodies lay within the courtyard piled high along with many splintered spears and shields, Broken swords and axes."I can see you fight well, my name is Legate Terith and if you're willing we'd pay handsomely for someone of your talent." Terith offered Vincent a choice but they both knew there wasn't one. Vincent heard Death, in an instant time slowed, he couldn't move but he could think and that was enough for Death, "I return now to answer your prayer and collect upon the debt of your soul. We made a deal all those years ago when Ildus Dinath last of the Hexblades died, we agreed that upon the day that which would be your death you would become my ward and I would train you to take my throne should the need arise." Death's voice rang in Vincent's mind and he could feel a brand upon his back and on his chest he knew his time had come…
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The sky filled with storm clouds blocking what little sunlight peaked through in the early hours of the day, rain began to fall and lightning cracked then thunder roared. " Before I answer your question Legate Terith, I have one for you,... Do you fear the end, does it haunt you in your sleep?... for your bones whisper too me that you do, so do your men's…. Can you hear it their sweet uttering cries for death, for release." Vincent's voice was full of malice and took on a much lighter and quieter tone with a deep, guttural, beastial undertone his head and body twitched with each crack of lightning before his body split and cracked open shedding its human skin like a snake. The army looked on in horror as this man transformed into a nightmare, a large hunched body covered in blood and shadow with darkness seeping off of it his head a deer's skull with large antlers and massive fangs dripping with blood and shadow alike, in between the antlers floated a ball of black and greenish fire the same fire that lit his three eyes, and sprouted slowly from each long clawed finger, his arms grossly long he reached out and grabbed the Legate lifting him off the ground and bringing him close before uttering two words into the minds of the soldiers, "Feasting Time"...
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Soldiers, Guards, Men, Women, Children all were slaughtered like sheep, blood curdling screams of pain, horror and anguish erupted from the city many tried to flee but the fiend stopped them all feasting upon their souls and taking their strength by the time the feast was over Vincent returned back to normal fully healed and clean he held his hand out and the markings on his right arm glowed green and his fathers broken sword flew to him and repaired in the shadow of evil that had fallen over this now cursed place. " You there, do the bones speak to you?" Vincent spoke to a child hiding under the table and bodies of his dead family "Speak or end up like them" Vincent demanded he was now crouched looking into the eye's of the boy. "I hear the whispers on the edges of my eye seeping to my bones" the boy uttered and uttered " Good then look and behold the wrath of Vincent the Fiend."
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A.N: Okay so that was a bit darker than I wanted it to be but hopefully you liked it, and I promise we will get back to Helgafjall soon enough. And a Boss Grip shield is basically a shield with a central handle and a raised bit of metal forming a pocket for the hand to better grip the central handle, a viking shield is a good example of this.