Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28358106-20160714040922/@comment-25808351-20160717170745

I charge into the looming storm, my horse demonstrating the meaning of speed. Lightening crashes down around us, piercing the earth and sending debris flying, but we don't not waver. My horse and I are no stranger to such hell. Buildings and trees crumble and fall, their foundations weak from the fire. the dead litter the streets and the scent of war hangs heavy in the air. I ready my greatsword and continue further into the city, occasionally lopping off a Order soldier's head or hitting them outright. My massive horse sends them flying like rag dolls.

Suddenly a scream, I pull back hard on the reins, my horse sliding to a halt. I turn to see a group of soldiers in narrow ally, toying with a young Harpy. Lightly, I spur my horse and trot over to them. They turn around and face me once they hear the horse hooves against the ground. One soldier steps forward unimpressed by the greatsword in my hand. He's middle aged, a scar runs from his left ear to his lips.

"Aye! Piss off you wanker!" he shouts obnoxiously loud.

"And if I don't?" I ask.

"Then we'll cut down you to." He answers. A smug smile on his, he pulls his sword from it's sheath and advances toward me. I plant my greatsword firmly into the ground, I wont grace his miserable life with it's blade. No, not the greatblade, I'll use my hands. The soldier stops at the site of this.

"What this? What are you going to do without yer blade, fool?" He asks, his smug smile even bigger now.

"I'm going to make an example of you...." I respond in a dark tone. Sweat rolls down his ash coated face, good. The the heat from the buildings and trees burning, he now knows what hell feels like and now I'm going to show him what it looks like, by sending him there. Lightening crashes down behind me from the mage conjured storm. The soldier charges forward, his sword high above his head, but I stand still. He brings the sword down on my shoulder, his face quickly turns to shock as realizes he hasn't even broken skin.

"What the hell?!" He shouts in an alarmed voice.

"Pathetic...." I respond, devoid of emotion. I grab his sword hand and crush it like a grape. As he screams in pain, I yank him to the ground and put my boot to his head, slowly applying pressure. His screams muffled with his face in the dirt, his compatriots helplessly watch as dark chunky paste spews from his skull while simultaneously hearing a loud crunch.

"Next?" I say remorselessly. The rest brandish their blades and charge forward, shouting and swearing in anger. The Harpy turns away and covers her ears, but it is no use. She can still hear bones breaking and pained screams. The noise dies down and she turns to see what happened. I stand there holding one of the soldiers by the head, as I approach the Harpy, I toss the lifeless body aside like trash. Her beautiful blue wing covered in dirt. The Harpy scrambles to her feet and runs away terrified, not wanting to fly for obvious reasons. Seeing that she is afraid of me, I stop and let her go. No point trying to help her now. I pull a cigar form my coat and light it with a piece of burning debris at my feet. These are not normal Order lackeys, this is brutal even by their standards. My eyes shift to the sky as retreating Harpys are picked off.

"The archers..... they're next." A puff of smoke accompanied my words.