Grim Views

((well I have been out of the RP scene for awhile, so I'm comin back strong, or at least, trying to. This is open RP, anyone can continue it if they wish, and anyone is welcome. I hope many of the newer Grims will join in; I love RPing with new folks and I have some catching up to do it seems.))

Naga blood spilt to the ground as he drew in a deep breath, the battle was long and ardous, the naga numbers seeming to grow with each one that fell. Hefting his axe into the air another blow rained down upon a male naga, shattering it's skull and spilling more blood, adding to the river at his feet. Axe blades and the point of spears ripped and pierced his flesh in several locations, even as his wounds healed, his blood clot, his sinews and muscles reattach, he could feel another blow slip through, wounding him again and again.

The naga hissed and spit curses at te warrior before them, they had been sent to assassinate him, had been told a frail old troll awaited them. They had taken the job with glee, a chance at easy money; they had found far worse then what they expected.

The leader of the naga called out to his troops, ordering a retreat, it was his last words for even as they left his scaled lips he was silenced by the axe that ate through his neck and buried itself in the murshroom stalk behind him. The remaining naga fled with all haste, a few more meeting their end to the blades of the berserker beast, even in retreat he cut them down.

Warneshi Sandscalp let out a long breath and heaved in gulps of air. He was tired and badly wounded, the naga attack was unsuspected and had drained him of what energies were left in his old frail body. Giving himself time to catch his breath Warneshi made his way to his axe buried in the mushroom stalk, he yanked it free and allowed his eyes to fall across the corpse of the naga's leader for a few seconds. There had been a time in which Warneshi would of slaughted the group with no difficulty, would of drained their souls and still hungered for more. A sigh escaped Warneshi's lips, those were days long gone.

A rustle from the underbrush behind snaped the Tyrant back into reality, how could he of let someone sneak up on him? Truely he was feeling his age. Realizing he had no time to prepare a proper defense, giving over his reason to rage he slipped into a berserker stance, his weapons held aloft and his chest left wide open, a trap to invite whatever this was into his killing blows.

Warneshi waited...

((whoever wants in, just jump on in! Fun times with Arpeeeee!))

by Ashagga

Ashagga stepped from the shadows, hands held high, a grin on her face. "Calm down, Warneshi... s'jus' me. I 'eard fightin', came this way." She pointed behind her at a pair of dead naga in the bushes. "These two was sneakin' up on yer. I di'n t'ink yer'd 'ave a problem killin' 'em, but I decided ter 'elp anyway."

She pulled out a roll of netherweave bandages, offering them to the troll king. "Yer looks like yer could use these."

Warneshi snorted and huffed, his breathing was heavy and letting the rage out of his blood was not easy. Even at the sight of an ally he had almost attacked. Letting out a long sigh he slide his axes into their holsters and looked over at the Orc. His eyes took in the bandages for a bit before he shook his head at Ashagga; his wounds had all but healed up during the interlude.

Waarneshi gave the Orc a once over, he had not seen Ashagga in a long time and the Orc had indeed grown stronger, just as many of his allies had.

"And might Warneshi assk why it iss you are out near him and did not notify him before?"

Warneshi smiked at the Orc even as he delivered what sounded like a serious question, truth be told his body ached to much for him to be serious.

Ashagga shrugged and foled her arms under her breasts. "Dunno... jus' wanderin' about, really. Deliverin' some goods ter Booty Bay. Di'n even know yer was out 'ere, much less gettin' killed by naga." She grinned again, impudently. She'd never shown a great deal of respect for the Sandfury King. Why should she? She didn't show respect to Thrall, and she was nominally under his reign. Warneshi was potent and skilled, and outranked her within the Grim, but he didn't hold much sway over the orc rogue.

"What 'bout yerself? Decided it was a nice day ter fight fish-men?"

Warneshi was used to Ashagga's mannerisms, she spoke on level ground with everyone, regardless of rank or station. He enjoyed beings that defied authority in such a way, he had been one himself.

Having caught his breath and his wounds having fully healed, Warneshi raised himself from his resting position to his looming height. Offering a sly smirk to the orc and slouching so as not tower over her to much, he scanned the area one last time for enemies before deciding it was a safe place to talk to the orc.

"Warneshi did not choosse thesse oppenentss, they jusst seemed so intent on dying by Warneshi'ss bladess that he had to oblige them."

Warneshi chuckled slighty a bit before letting loose a debilitating string of coughs and sitting back down on his hunches. He looked up from his hand and smiled at the orc.

"Ass you can see however, thiss mortal frame doess not share the enthussiam for the slaughter that Warneshi'ss spirit doess."

Ashagga's brow furrowed, and she moved to stand beside the troll. "Yer all right? I know yer jus' been in a fight, but that ain't like ter stop yer fer long."

She looked Warneshi over closely. She knew as well as anyone that wounds were unlikely to end the troll king. Even if his own natural ability to heal didn't mend him, one of the Grim priests could come along and cure his wounds, even resurrect his spirit from the dead if needs be... but what happened when that spirit decided it was time to move on? What happened when the body grew old and frail, too weak for the spirit to inhabit?

What would the Grim do if Warneshi just got too old to keep fighting?