~Soulcleaver~
Part VI: "The Execution."
Most of the work had been painfully easy. Nikolai was an excellent shot and every arrow he loosed planted itself firmly in someone's throat or chest; Guilford had unleashed volley after volley of shadow and fire towards the ones Nikolai had managed to miss; Brandon was slamming his shield into the faces of anyone unlucky enough to be caught in his path; and Monika was managing to keep all of them alive despite any injuries they took.
Nuk'hara was cursing himself, however. He had been given the task of planting the incendiary explosives in the huts. While it was certainly the easiest job there was, he did not like that the others were having all the fun. The dragon that had ridden with them here had said they need to place one bomb in each of the huts. This was the fifth hut and he was grateful that this was the last one he would have to deal with. He was grateful for the axe he had been given. It had a haft made of a dark, sturdy wood with a blade of white metal that curved in a crescent shape. It curved again at the back side, so that it looked like an incomplete infinity symbol.
He had kept himself simply clad in a pair of red scale pants with a pair of matching boots. He had two dark leather straps over his chest, crossing over his back and chest in an X formation and locking together with a steal clasp in the front. A pair of shoulder pads went along with this, adorning his shoulders to protect his neck. They seemed to be steel or iron; he couldn't tell, all he knew was that they were strong.
Just like he had done with the previous buildings, he ushered the orcs outside as to prevent any harm to them. As he came outside, he huffed as he saw that all of the human guards had been slain, along with their mastiff servants. Nikolai was nudging the corpses with his feet, an arrow drawn in his bow if any sudden movements were caused. Guilford was doing something that was definitely odd. Nuk'hara had noticed that his compatriot had become hunched and his face was sunken as if he had gone through advanced aging. His voice had grown hoarse as well as he had asked that the survivors be tied and set against a nearby wall.
There were a few of the guards they had decided to take prisoner – two males and three females. They were gagged and forced to sit up on their knees with their hands bound behind their backs. Guilford stood before them and stared down at them, to which they stared back up at him in return. Their gazes were defiant glares of anger and by the way they were shifting, it was as if they were trying to loosen their bonds.
Guilford's left hand reached forward and pulled the gag from the first prisoner on the left, a woman. Her reaction was to spit up at him and she did not miss, hitting his cheek. Not bothering to wipe it away, his hand dropped the makeshift cloth gag and she fell over onto her side, spasming wildly. The other prisoners began doing the same. Nuk'hara looked on and the prisoners began to wither, their faces becoming deep and wrinkled, their physique turning into skeletons with a thin layer of skin protecting them and the hair on their scalps withered and grayed before eventually falling out. As he continued to stare, Guilford had perked up, looking rejuvenated. Nuk'hara was speechless, to say the least, at this brutal display.
As Guilford reached up to wipe the spittle away from his cheek, Monika moved up from behind him and began usher prayers to the withered corpses, a late set of final rites for prisoners executed before they were absolved of all their sin. Her black hair covered her face as she ducked her head, issuing the collective prayer to help the spirits of the departed along.
Just like clockwork, the first shack exploded. A minute later the second blew and the third a minute after that. The explosions were not violent as the only thing that blew up were the barrels the charges were placed in. The insides were drenched in flame which quickly ate away at the dry roofs of the shacks. Finally the fourth and fifth shack echoed their predecessors, becoming covered in flame inside and out.
Everyone was already on the move, their feet thudding against the dry dirt of the grounds of the camp, trying to make their way up to the higher levels to free their priority target. As they rounded the corner under the bridge, a heavily armored man with a large two-handed sword came running down the steps from the higher levels to the basin-like holding area of the Keep. Behind him was a retinue of men and woman with buckets, hurrying to put out the fires as he issued them to. His armor was gleaming steel and his helmet was painted blue.
He turned to see them and instantly began charging towards them, issuing curses with his battle cry. His sword came in contact with Brandon's shield and the two men recoiled from the force of the clash. Nikolai was already loosening a few arrows which pinged uselessly off of the enemy's armor as he charged again. He cursed himself and moved to flank the man along with Guilford. Nikolai aimed for the joints in the armor while Guilford worked on a massive spell, his hands drenched in flame and shadow.
Nuk'hara was the one to meet the charge this time, his human features pulled back into a grin of joy. He swung his axe from the sling and his blade locked with the armored man's in an upward arching swing that sent the man reeling once again as Nuk'hara's strength trumped his own. He refused to go down, however. Before he could make another charge, Brandon raced past and smashed his shield into the man's chest, his heavy mace swinging around to smash against his leg.
The man cried out in pain, his armor dented and his leg undoubtedly broken. Brandon backed away just in time as a huge ball of fire smashed into his opponent's back, sending him stumbling forward. It was Nuk'hara who dealt the final blow, seeing his chance. He whipped his axe up in a wide arc, pulling the weapon high overhead before bringing it down on the man's exposed neck. His head rolled off to the side, his eyes wide in disbelief as he was bested.
Everyone was breathing heavy – save for Monika and Guilford, the former giggling in obvious amusement and the other staying quiet and watching that head roll. Brandon was the first to let his voice be heard, however.
"Come on," he started. "We need to move before those people putting out the fires engage us as well." Without arguing, the others simply followed him as they made their way up to the keep.
