Consonance
Frozen earth shifted beneath the feet of two warring shapes; behemoths among the death. One battled with the scent of repulsive rot, and the other with the metallic hum of holy Light. Each time their weapons clashed, the contradicting powers caused waves of destruction on the crunching snow around them.
“You should have stayed on the Broken Shore, beast.” With a step back, the unholy combatant spat both words and vitriol towards his opponent. He was an orc, greyish-brown in skin tone, with what endured of an uppercut of brown hair on one side and horrid burn scars on the other. One eyesocket stayed empty, while the remaining eye focused on the battle at hand.
Albatross, the fighter for the Light, wasn’t letting that step back go without its price. He lunged his shield forward and met him with the nasty crack of bone in return. As to whose it was, it was uncertain; but the elf wasn’t stopping in either case. “I go where I please, not where I’m guarded. You’ve crossed a line, Karlosh.”
The orc pushed into the spikes, despite the wounds they made, and took that chance to knock the side of Albatross’ head with the hilt of his festering blade. It was a nasty, cheap shot; it caused the elf’s only hearing ear to ring. Naturally, he recoiled back but kept his shield where it could guard his head from any other blows.
“You steal my kill, I kill you.” With a wide swing, Karlosh stepped forward and slammed Albatross right in the knee. It forced the paladin to drop down, but he still held that shield up. A few attempts at scourge strikes were made from the orc, but they all failed to a moderately weak shield of Light. “Give it up already!”
It all sounded like mumbling and wind to the deafened man, and he knew he had no chance if he fought like this. His only current option was to throw a consecration at his feet, so he did; and it worked. Karlosh was sent reeling back from the burning pain in his feet, but it unfortunately did not achieve the results Albatross wanted. Right after doing so, the swift sting of two daggers buried themselves in his sides- one each from a separate goblin rogue, who both immediately stealthed away.
“Ack-” Albatross hit the ground on all fours, realizing his defeat here was near inevitable. His hearing returned to the crunch of snow from the approaching Karlosh, and all he could do was look up. “You proud of yourself? Harassing an old man?”
“I am proud of myself,” the orc laughed. He held his blade out to the elf’s cheek and sliced into it. As it cut, the flesh seemed to sting; death and Light did not get along. “Do you know how many lost cultists want you dead? I get that honor.”
A cough, and a sputter of blood, and Albatross felt defeat even stronger now. He opened his mouth to throw something sassy back, but couldn’t find the words amidst the rising blood.
“Pity. I wanted this to last longer.” The unholy blade was lifted up, and right as it slammed down a flash of Light erupted. A loud, dissonant metallic hum forced the orc to recoil back and the goblins to break their concealment. As the Light seemed to fade, the glowing general shape of a blade floated above Albatross’ head. It took no specific form, but shielded him from that attack entirely.
The attackers all exchanged worried glances, including Karlosh. He knew what happened when a death knight was exposed too much to holy Light, especially in a concentration such as this; so he stepped back and began a summoning spell. “We’ll leave him to take care of these, Whistlefixes. Get the zepplin ready.”
The two goblins gave the death knight a quick nod, and dodged their way through his cloud of ghouls. The undead all began to crowd their way around Albatross, some flinging themselves blindly into the Light to meet their deaths and others scratching at his legs and arms. Without waiting, Karlosh departed in the hopes that these minions would deal with his opponent.
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