Our own demons
Posted: Thu Feb 04, 2021 4:30 am
19th of Frost, 120
"READY!" he called with his eyes narrowed in a squint. Again, the nameless raised their pistols and held them with both hands. "AIM!" he bellowed again and used his diaphragm to project his voice at the cost of his head's integrity. Each of the nameless adjusted their arm's length appropriately and peered down the sights of their weapons. Arkash maintained his squint as he looked them over, then covered his ears. "FIRE!"
On the word, the nameless pulled the triggers of their pistols and fired their rounds at the various targets he'd set up on the side of the road. The resulting thrum of gun blasts was like a rolling drum above the squeeze of his claws, and half the targets fell at the impact of the bullet, whereas the rest stayed standing and sprayed the stone dust of the dilapidated home's walls as it caught the misfired projectiles.
Arkash watched them carefully, then lowered his hands as the last remaining gunner fired his weapon, and missed his mark completely. Arkash hissed as the gunshot ran through his ears and jarred his spine. Admittedly, his head was doing a lot better since the Knight had attempted to crack it open, but the untreated wound to his chest left him weak and miserable. It was no doubt infected already, and he only let it progress further.
"...Betta'," he spoke with his glare maintained. The gathered nameless then turned to look at him and lowered their guns while they cooled down. Again, the rath rubbed at his temples in an attempt to ease the ramping pressure in his head, then began to walk down th isle of nameless, handing them new shells as he passed. Asmodei stayed there at the sack that was filled with more ammo for their use. One by one, they reloaded their weapons.
"Rememba', breav'e out when ew's aimin', an' squeeze th' trigga' gently," he spoke his advice toward the end of the row, then stopped to rub at the infected wound beneath the bandages of his chest before he returned to Asmodei's side. There, he waited for the gathered humans and elves to load their weapons and adjust their sights if they felt it necessary. In the end, each gun would have settings befitting their wielders, almost personalized for each of them in that sense.
"Everything alright, Ark?" The Velsign asked with a dip of his head. Arkash looked to the man while he covered one of his eyes, and furrowed a brow. "You keep scratching your chest, and your head seems to be bothering you too."
Arkash shook his head with a sigh, then gave his temple a rub with his index claw. "A'm fien," he assured, "still healin's all." With that said, he looked back to the nameless, who all appeared to be ready, bar the laggard at the end. A roll of his yellow eyes relayed that he was waiting on the final marksman to load their weapon right. When it finally clicked into place and they shut the lever, he nodded his head in approval. "READY!" he called at the top of his lungs.
They continued that way for some hours, as they had the day before, and the day before that. In the end, the group made significant progress with their grouping accuracy and their gun etiquette both. At around mid-day, it was time to return to the sewers. Though his head hurt, and the ache in his skull nigh-rendered him dizzy with fatigue, he was glad to see the results of their training.
One by one, the men climbed the ladder back into the sewer's hold, where they would stow their weapons for future use. Asmodei and Arkash were the last to climb down, which the rath took his time in doing. A squint of his eyes turned to face the gathered nameless that lined the walls, most of whom were part-way through being treated for old wounds and having their bandages changed by the more functional of their fellow caste.
A little further ahead was a group of the gunners he'd just trained, chatting and shooting the shit on their way back to the gun room. No doubt they were spitting some banter on the laggard of the group, as they often did. As Asmodei entered the sewers behind him, Arkash spied something that froze him in place. Ahead of all the nameless, at the far end of the walkway, a hollow stepped from behind the corner, followed by another two. Three of the machines, the beginnings of a fourth. Their presence could only mean one thing; the knighthood had found them.
[inscream ran rampant tremors through his spine.
Asmodei pushed past him and ran with his sword raised. Through the nameless, the plate-armored giant barreled and collided with a unit as it swung its axe at one of the wounded. With a grunt, he pushed back against the golem to separate it from its prey, then swung his sword as the golem stabilized and cut it in two from the hip and up through the shoulder. The Velsign loosed a battle cry of his own as the mechanical beast hit the floor, and rallied those that were able to fight.
Two others swarmed him at the sides. Asmodei lowered into a crouch, and from the shadows, the cardinal appeared to leap off his back with a twirl of her twin swords and cut through their necks with ease. Their spines were severed in one fell swoop, and the lining that wired their nexus to the rest of their body was destroyed. They fell with hefty thuds and drew the rallied war cries of the nameless.
That wasn't the end of it, though. More hollows flooded the same hallway, rushing down the gathered nameless, only to crash against the impenetrable wall of Fayeth and Asmodei both. "TO ARMS!" Arkash called with a wave of his fist. At once, the nameless readied their pistols and reloaded them with the ammunition from the bag they'd retrieved at the foot of the ladder. Arkash did the same with his rifle, and clicked the weapon closed before he turned to face his companions and lifted the weapon to spy down the sight.
In a flash, a blur rushed around the corner, changed direction on a dime, and cleaved through one of the injured nameless without hesitation. A spatter of red ripped through their form and painted the wall in a spray that left their lower half rendered from their torso. Arkash followed the glint in the darkness, only to find the telltale armor of the Argent Knighthood. A destroyer. Arkash took aim as the Velsign tried to collide with the knight, only to be kicked aside with a thud of the monster-knight's heavy sabaton. More hollows flooded the room and occupied the entirety of Fayeth's and Asmodei's efforts. They were surrounded.
"SHOOT 'EM!" Arkash called as he aimed his rifle at the knight, squinted, then pulled the trigger while he methodically aimed. All at once, a burst of bullets peppered the knight's form, and some more hit the hollows to no effect. Arkash's rifle-shot dented the side of the knight's helm and crushed their temple with the thunderous force. They stumbled to the side as Fayeth sprung at them from the shadows, and drove the point of her sword into their visor. She struck with such force that the Argent's body was thrown against the sewer wall with a hefty thud before she ripped the blade from the knight's skull.
Meanwhile, Arkash and the nameless ejected their used shells and reloaded their weapons in their cool down. It was evident that the Knighthood knew of their gun heist, as the attacking force was comprised mostly of hollows, which were nigh impervious/unaffected by firearms. "HOLD FI'A" He called when the argent was dead, and Fayeth and Asmodei resumed cutting down the hollows that appeared.
Evidently, the knighthood had anticipated they'd be weak and unable to fight off a platoon of gun-proof golems. They didn't know they were enforced with an ex-ebonknight and a cardinal both. When such assumptions of weakness were proven wrong, the overseer had to step in and eliminate the threat - Alas, they hadn't anticipated that at least one of the nameless was a master with their own brand of rifle. In the end, they were thirty hollows down and one Chevalier. On Arkash's side, they'd lost five of their own, killed in their sleep.
Morale once-high burned away to fear and apprehension. The knighthood knew where they were, and the sewers they took refuge in were no longer safe. So, it was that night that they agreed to move to another city, where they were unknown, and the knighthood of Nivenhain couldn't reach them
How the knighthood had discovered them, he could only imagine. Jacques came to mind, the Daravinian that had betrayed them on the gun heist. It made sense if the argent knew they were the ones responsible for raiding the gun factory. So, they had to move. Arkash wasn't long enough for the world for revenge, neither had he the energy to fight. The least he could do before his infection took him was ensure the safety of the rest of his fellow caste.
