The problem in having a Plan B orchestrated by one Tony Stark, despite all the best field instructors S.H.I.E.L.D. can provide is that no matter the scenario, the billionaire's preferred plan is to always 'attack'. His psych evaluation said as much. Plan A is simply have his C.O., aka Uncle Steve, direct him where to aim. Certainly, Tony Stark's alter ego in Iron Man can be an asset in any theater of war. The reverse is also true, Iron Man's id in Tony Stark can be a liability.
So as much as the S.H.I.E.L.D. graduate can surmise who and where his enemy was and how many ways a trap can be sprung, the statistical outcome of an ambush in the middle of a forest was three to one ratio. It was guerilla tactic 101 with the highest probability of success. Therefore, his countermeasure of plan B was to get behind a barricade and pick them off until he was out of ammo. Repulsors against bows and arrows? It would be almost too easy.
Except for the not so tiny fact that the enemy has not one but four Hulk-size combatants out there. What. The. Actual. Fuck!? Repulsors against Hulk-smash? Fucking run.
Although—
Mean and Green is one of a kind. So maybe only Hulk-size but no Hulk-smash? Revision amended. Time for Plan C.
His H.U.D. shows the twenty or so blips closing in from the perimeter with some elves already engage with infighting and currently kept the enemy busy from turning him into a human pincushion. The four, bigger and apparently slower blips are taking their sweet time. Giving him a minute or two at best to see what the fuck he's dealing with.
Anticipating the coming battle, his pulse beat ratcheted up a notch as he tears off the glasses, secures it away before both gauntlets activates in seconds. Tony flexes his fingers and welcomes the familiar clinking of metal before he pulls out the hidden cables from the sleeves of his jacket and connects each wire linking directly to the arc reactor on his chest. Without it, each beam would only stun a person; with it though, a clear shot could do more than char flesh. Tony isn't taking any chances.
"Tanna? Sunshine? Tell me you're okay?" He said without bothering to look up while he checks out the view from the front of his mount. It looks like the twins, Ebony and Ivory, along with their guards aren't doing too bad fending off some cloaked humanoids and what looks like extra rejects from a Mad Max movie. Hopefully those oddly placed horns and bone fragments are not really part of their bodies. Otherwise, Tony will have to make a point not to look too closely when he blow their shit up.
"Tis only a scratch," she said. Though her tone sounds less certain than her words. Her horse whickers restlessly as if in agreement with Tony's assessment. He tears his eyes away from the battle to see for himself.
"That is a gash and you are not allow to quote Monty Python at a time like this," declares Tony as soon as he saw the still dripping wound on her deltoid. Her face was a study of pained concentration even as her once pristine tunic continues to stain crimson.
Then to make matters worse, the ground shook and a large tree topples over. A loud thump follow by a trailing scream as Tony witness one of the guards Tanna solicited went flailing over their heads and lands with an oomph against something solid. Tony's horse shot off from fright.
"Oh shit!"
With sword drawn, Tanna has reined in her horse to face the oncoming threat, thereby opening up Tony's remaining barrier. So much for the barricade idea he thought when his astounded eyes went up and up as he tries to take in one of the not-Hulk for the first time.
The thing was huge. And it did look like the Thing from F4, except instead of one malleable body of mutated rock, this thing was comprise of disproportionate loose rocks and black pebbles for eyes. It was better than any fantasy movie special effects.
"Pretty things. Uroc like."
It even has a name, though how unoriginal was that? If Tony had to imagine what talking rocks would have sound like; that would have come pretty close. All rough and grinding, with lots of clacking noises for each fricative sound. It was awesome and totally unrelated to anything helpful in defeating the damn thing as it advances. Tanna reins her horse back to maintain distance. Tony couldn't blame her, but there was only so much room to maneuver as the sound of battle rage on from both sides.
"Run! You lack wit!"
Tony heard the command before the Captain's feral pack mate quite literally rock climbs up the creature's back and began tearing into it, chucking stone and boulders at the cloak assailants fighting his Alpha.
And what a sight she was. His attention captured by the surprisingly graceful, yet deadly way their suppose traitor was cutting down a path towards them while on horseback. So much for that betrayal theory, at least for now.
His relief was short lived as a blood curdling screech punch through the thundering chaos with its soundbite. Tony swerves his head to the other combatants. Right before his eyes another creature with orange crusted skin covered with some brown leather patched-up loin cloth, and half the size of Hulk on a good day rip Valto from his mount even as he kicks the horse towards Huilomë's own. The elf fell with his steed yet manage to roll out of harm's way and into a crouch before launching after his fiancé at a run. The fury on his face only matched by the deadly swing of his duel scimitar to those who dares to stand in his way.
Tony wasted no time either, a burst from each palm clears a path of green-cloaked enemies for Huilomë who only glance his way, gave a curt nod before disappearing through the foliage.
Then out of the blue, a rough grey iron grip hauls Tony back against a solid chest, squeezing the remaining air from his lungs as he's lifted several feet off the ground. The stench the creature gave off both familiar and overpowering. He felt faint from the proximity.
Ugh! He was so stupid. Standing there gawking like a newb in a mock battle. Struggling with all his might to budge the branch-size arms, Tony kicks uselessly against the unmovable force.
"Ulik will fetch a good price for that one," crows the foul smelling beast much too close to Tony's ear for his liking. He cringes upon feeling the other's putrid breath as it continues to pollute the airwaves, "You I keep, little one."
"Prince Anthony!" Screams Tanna before she spurs her horse around yet hesitates with her sword in hand. Seeing the worry in her eyes, Tony didn't think, he raises a palm over his shoulder and fires a blast where he thought the creature's head was. A roar of pain tore through the sounds of clashing metal and hoof beats, scattering even the birds from the surrounding trees. The grey skin creature drops Tony like a hot potato in favor of grabbing his face. Just as he clears the ground, Tanna darts her horse forward and stab her sword straight through the creature's abdomen before tearing it out. Another roar sends her horse to rear up in fright as she tightens her grip and prance her mount out of harm's way just as the grey Alpha launch forward.
Tony knew he recognized that grey skin alien with the sharp teeth was the same Alpha that manhandled him back at the tavern. Tony may forget names attached to them, but he has a thing about faces. Even though his memory of that night was foggy at best, he can recall that much. Had the fucker been carrying a torch for him all this time? Ew.
Crab-walking backward as fast as he could, Tony knew he couldn't get away fast enough and raises his arm to take several potshots, to buy some time. Scorched as he was, the grey Alpha kept advancing as if the blasts were pesky mosquito bites.
His racing heart was thumping loudly in his ears. Shit! Now is not the time to panic and—
Out of nowhere, Tanna cuts between them on foot. She plants her feet and stood her ground, larger than life as Tony veers up at her back, transfixed in horror. All he could see was her arms gesticulating quickly as if performing a dance, then a bright ball of light shot out from nowhere and saturates the entire vicinity blinding everything it reaches.
Disoriented for however long, Tony wakes and immediately tense when he felt the firm cage of an armored embrace. He's atop a horse, on someone's lap. Blinking as much as he could, fear takes hold as blindness clings to his sight until he heard Captain T'Pol growl out, "Be still. Tanna has bought us some time, but more will come."
They weren't on the main road, he figured that much. He can feel the occasional brush of branches catching on before snapping back as they hurdle through the forest sporadically. Her control masterful and yet chaotic even at their speed. Tony couldn't hear anything else beyond the pounding hooves and their own panting breaths. Then clarity struck his body cold.
"Wh—where's Tanna and the others?"
"Either dead or captured," she says rather bluntly.
Shocked at first by her words, anger soon overtook the fear for his companion— no, his friends. Tony clench his eyes in impotent fury before spitting out his words, "They may not be my pack mates, but unlike you, I will not abandon my friends."
Then he felt it, her hand constricting his airways just for a split second before she relents. The steel weight of her hand heavy on his throat before she removes her grip.
"Who could be dead. Have care, little Omega," she purrs, though the threat was clear, "you know nothing of my pack. Unlike your friends, Ferrin and his brood finds their own way back to me."
Confused by her words and the familiar cadence of her tone, Tony ignores the nagging feeling to catch his breath before he tries a different tactic, "They're not dead. If you will not rescue them, I will."
He really hates not being able to see, otherwise Tony would have deck her a good one, girl or not, when she has the audacity to laugh in his ear. It was all mockery yet familiar somehow.
"I suppose you are correct, given the marauders and their troll allies left most of the escorting Betas dead. Most likely the rest were taken for profit. While we only managed to kill seven of theirs and none of the trolls," accounted the Captain as if she was giving status on the weather. She then switches back to being amused as it tinge her every word, "I wonder how you would fare against these bandits on your own? Such a grand prize offering up as sweetmeat. I applaud your gallantry, little one, but such sacrifices are needless."
She has a point, but Tony wasn't raise by Steve Rogers to give up. So he took to sarcasm instead, "Little? You aren't that big yourself, sister. So what? You telling me I should head back into the lap of luxury and let them be sold into slavery?"
For a brief moment, Tony thought he saw a flash of color before his eyes watered and has to close them again.
"Such imagination you have. Nay, the nobles in your group will be ransomed while the lesser will be sold to a collector most like. If your friends turn out to be Omegas, they will fetch a good price and live in the lap of luxury as you would say."
Feeling as how their slowing down for some reason, suspicion quickly jump to the forefront of Tony's thoughts as he mulls over the jumble of clues. He tries again to open his eyes and was happy to be greeted by the sight of something, even though it was blurry at best. So he feints defeat and slumps forward on the horse's mane. Subtly, Tony drew one of the black steel throwing knives from his sleeve and jams it on the Captain's thigh before pushing off the pommel and head-butts behind him with her grunt as reward.
Tony didn't want to stick around to be cursed at or worse, killed. He quickly slid off the horse and half ran, half stumbling his way as he reactivate his gauntlets. Thank Einstein he still have those at least. He only made a few yards at best until he heard some fast approaching footsteps. Fearing for the worst, Tony shot first and ask questions later. A shrill yelp follow by a familiar whine cut through the frantic beating of his heart and the subsequent rumbling growl stops him cold.
"Fenrir, stand down."
