//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: Shield's Birthday Blitz // by Shieldheart204 //------------------------------// Most people would cry in despair at the sight and thunderous boom of a cracking barrier. A few would cry in horror. Not the Commissioners, they just sighed in annoyance at the sight. Shield could only take small comfort in the fact that the few remains of the army were running back into the forest. But his danger sense started tingling when four orcs stepped forward. Or, at least he thought they were orcs. These particular specimens were so buff and well armored that Shield could have mistaken them for golems. But they were structured weirdly, three in the front one in the back, with the ogre Cap’n following close by. The center soldier stepped forward, holding a pair of waraxes. It was wearing a full set of rusted plate armor with a black upside down U. It wore no helmet, opting instead to reveal a stitched scar across its glass right eye. With a snarl it revealed a row of putrid, jagged and probably deadly, teeth. Shield recognized the silhouette left by the armor. Without a doubt this orc was once part of the Guard. To his right was another orc, wearing a large variety of furs, armed with a maul and a buckler and wearing a skull tattoo on its face. It roared, smashing the weapon against its leather shield. The orc to the left was wearing old leather rags, crackled by age and dirt. It brandished a pair of rusted machetes, constantly clashing its blades as it muttered under its breath. The ground around it rumbled, letting stones erupt into sparks and the air waver as it was filled with strange airs. The orc behind, or at least they hoped was one, was the bulkiest of the bunch, almost as bulky as the ogre. Covered from head to toe in metal, both rusted and new, the orc was more of a cyborc than regular. Its right hand, it sported an industrial buzzsaw. The other hand had a barrel, long, thick and apparently capable of firing large projectiles. Its head was a cacophony of flesh and metal, sporting one real eye on the left side and three small eyes on the right. The plate-armored orc stepped forward, aimed an axe at the thatched house and roared: “I will feast on your young!” And raised its hands. The rest followed on the last action. And slowly, they began trudging toward the Commissioners. “I’ll take care of the armored bastard.” Shield said as he drew Riot. “I’ll teach his green ass to threaten my family and gets to walk away in one piece.” He tightened his grip and let the blade glow faintly, a chain of teeth covering it. “And I’m going in Olde School.” “Then I’ll deal with Combusting Machetes.” Fire said, holstering his shotgun. He cracked his knuckles and took his stance. “That mean’s I’ll take the maul and shield guy.” Moondancer replied. “Leave Mecha to me. I’ll kick its metal hide back to hell.” Cherry said, taking out her scythe. Thunder twisted his neck and turned on the power field on his axe. “That means that I’ll deal with the big boy here. Don’t worry, when I mount his head on my fireplace I’ll be sure to add a note saying you helped me a bit.” And so the Commissioners charged, meeting their opponents with war cries and insults. Cherry and Thunder jumped over their friends, making sure that their crash would send their opponent far away from the melee. Fire and Moondancer rushed to their sides weapons ready to pierce. .oOo. Killteef barely had a second to react before a battle axe lodged itself on its shoulder. It cried in pain as it lashed at the bag of flesh that harmed it. “Yous gonna pay fer dat!” Thunder Storm laughed as he jumped backward, leaving the weapon stuck on Killteef’s shooty arm. As much as the ogre wanted, the limb refused to move.   The ogre swung its klaw, crackling with thousands of bolts of energy. But the human dodged effortlessly, cartwheeling back as he dislodged the axe from the socket. “So what’s it gonna take to get your wimpy ass outta here?” he mocked, leaving his axe on the floor. “How about a few scratches?” Thunder Storm pulled out a pair of steel rods, barely longer than his hands, and gripped them tightly. The rods mutated into a pair of steel claws, complete with a hand guard in between each blade. Thunder Charged again, delivering a swift jab to the ogre’s left. The blades cut through the tough skin, leaving marks dripping with black blood. He followed through with two more cross punches to the stomach and a roundhouse kick to the left side of Killteef’s face. With a chuckle he pulled out blasto and fired a grenade at its stomach. The blast tore the ribcage apart, leaving a blackened crater where green flesh had once been. The ogre cried in pain, howling curses as it stood up and slammed its dislodged arm back into place. with a rabid howl it fired a stream of bolts, unleashing empty casings into the grass. But as much as it wanted, none of the bullets could hope to graze the human. Thunder let his instincts take hold, knowing full well that the battle meditation would do its best to make sure that all six limbs would remain attached to his body. On several occasions he was tempted to stick his tongue out to see if he could taste the brass pellets, but refrained. No taste could beat the inability to kiss a woman for even a second. Soon Thunder heard his chance, the familiar Chick!  of a jammed weapon. Retracting his claws and picking up his axe, Thunder let out a shout and flapped his wings to launch himself. He swung his axe around, bringing it into contact against the ogre’s shooting arm.The axe sliced through the arm, burning the stump as it went. Killteef swung wildly , catching Thunder’s axe before he could retreat. “I’s gonna rip ya ta shreds!”it roared, pushing down in an attempt to overwhelm the man. “An’ once I’s done with ya I’ll kill yer buddies with yer junk!” “Wanna see your new weapon?” Thunder asked smugly as he thrusted his hip. A small silver barrel stretched from his zipper. “Here, I’m sure you’re gonna have a blast!” He thrusted once more and the barrel fired a blue sphere. It landed on Killteef’s chest, blasting a chunk of its stomach. He thrusted again, this time his shot exploded on its face. With a hearty laugh Thunder backed up and slammed his axe against the ogre’s neck, separating it cleanly from its target. He picked it up and held it on his right hand, keeping it as high and as far away from him as possible while saying: “I’ve always wanted to drink scotch from a bleached ogre’s skull, and you are totally perfect.” .oOo. Moondancer thrusted her rapier against the leather shield, it bounced off and she followed with three more strikes. None of them got past the hide barrier. The orc was being smart, keeping the shield in just the right spots. She switched her stance, dedicating her body to dodge the blows. The orc swung too far and left an opening, which Moon took without a second thought. The thin blade pierced her target, but the orc let out a devious chuckle. Moon refused the feeling to duck and tightened her grip, letting the blade glow white. The orc swung back, smashing its iron maul against Moon’s head. She felt her personal barriers break, and let the momentum sent her flying backwards. She rolled backward and back up to her feet, pulling her DMR to bear. She pulled the trigger five times, grimacing as each shot bounced off the leather. “What is that thing made of?” she muttered to herself. What made her turn her head even more was the fact that the orc refused to remove its rapier. She pulled her handbows and fired each shot at the vulnerable spots she could see. Once again, the buckler deflected each shot, almost teleporting to stop bolts that should have made it through. She took a deep breath, calculated carefully her next action and fired another bolt. Just as she had planned, the bolt let out a cloud of smoke. She dashed in, grabbed the hilt of her rapier and felt a large block of metal hit her on the back of the head. Her face was planted to the ground, curses muffled by the dirt. Her instincts told her to roll around, and she followed. The ground barely vibrated from the impact, letting her know that it was a heavy strike. She began to imagine an attack sequence, going through the stabs and thrusts with exquisite detail, and with a deep breath she started. The first strike, a forward thrust with a slight right angle, was easily blocked but sent the shield to the sides. She switched hands, letting her left hand take control and issue three rapid stabs. Her thoughts were made clear when all three were blocked by the leather. Moondancer’s body forced her to drop to the ground and let a bolt of magic whizzed past her dropping hair. The bullet collided against the orc’s left shoulder, forcing it to drop its effective defense. Hollow Shade’s commissioner took advantage of the situation and leapt back into the air, slicing the orc from crotch to scalp. Moon expected that the orc would fall down and die, but instead it exploded into a thousand translucent fragments. “What the hell?” she asked herself as she paced around the scene. She turned around and looked at the roof. As she had expected, Hawk Eye was perched on the wooden beam holding the Macintosh rifle. “She is going to be in so much trouble after this.” .oOo. Fire stepped back, narrowly missing the edge of the machetes, and slammed his spear on the ground. He pulled out his shotgun and fired a flaming shell. The orc promptly burst into flames with a hysterical laugh. Fire turned around and walked back to the house, until he felt two metal rods going against his neck. The barriers removed the damage, but the count still felt the pain. He quickly let his spear fall to the ground struck with his left elbow, smashing at the orc’s head. He followed with a right cross at the face, two snap-side kicks and a spinning left roundhouse. The orc swung both rusted weapons wildly, but failed to maim its cartwheeling target. With a roar of rage it charged and spun around like a tornado. The orc kicked the commissioner away, touching its cauterized wound. The blade had managed to pierce all the way to the stomach, effortlessly burning through flesh and organs. And due to the intense heat, it left no blood. “You will pay for this maggot!” it cried in a shrill voice and yet another charge. Fire blocked both blades with his left hand, using his right to deliver a cross punch against the exposed neck. His arm was kicked out of the way, forcing him to step back. “Who do you work for?” the bluehead asked. “Because at this point I doubt that you work for a sub-par ogre war leader.” He dodged a high strike and deflected a left. “And don’t tell me that you’re alone on this. No orc can make a refractor field, much less modify one to imitate methane.” The orc swung from the ground and spun against him from the top right. While his barrier and his weapons were enough to stop the damage, he was still forced to kiss the ground due to the force. He rolled away, avoiding a strike. He waited before hearing the simple hum of his barriers, but they never came. He jumped back to avoid another hit, realizing that his barriers were taking too long. A brief look at his chest confirmed his suspicion: the orc had somehow managed to overload them. He stopped both machetes as they beared down on him, but the strain was harder without the barriers. The rusted blades managed to pierce the tough leather, stopped only metal framework. “That will probably leave a bruise…” he muttered. The orc broke his defense with a kick to the chest. “Ok, so NOW I’ve got a bruise.” The orc leered at the downed commissioner. “Once I am done here I will be the Roghart the…” but it stopped, unable to stare at the hole mare on its head. Without another word it promptly exploded into an infinite amount of pieces. And it left no mark that it had ever been there. Fire turned to see his savior, and saw Moondancer holstering her DMR with a smug grin. “I guess you owe me big time champ.” she turned to look at where the orc had once been. “Who knew right? Mine also disappeared.” “So who saved your life?” he asked as he looked at her. She held her right elbow with her left hand, looking away as she occasionally eyed her friend. “I didn’t need help. I killed that bastard on my own. It wasn’t that hard. Really.” she said, keeping her eyes away from him. “Why is it so hard to believe “ “My orc had a refractor field modified to imitate methane, meaning I couldn’t use anything fire related. I seriously doubt that I was the one who drew the short straw, that’s Shield’s job.” “It was Hawk Eye. The bastard was busy reading my mind, the second it lowered its guard Baby Bear shot its buckler away and she gave me a chance to gut that bastard.” she replied with a smile. “There’s something wrong with that girl.” “No shit?” he replied, making an effort to hide his grin. “A ten-year old capable of firing a gun, a Macintosh hunting rifle no less, with literal deadly accuracy is what made you think that there’s something wrong? Why don’t we start with: SHE’S HOLDING A FUCKING GUN LIKE A SOLDIER!” “Keep your boots on Flameo, I was just saying something.”