?Gods dammit, where is that boy?? The sergeant cursed as he watched another trebuchet several yards away launch its deadly load high in the air, the stone arcing over the walls protecting Cisroe. Slamming his fist on the heavy wood crossbeam of his war machine, the sergeant turned to yell for the conscript, but blinked when no one was in sight at the supplies. ?Where the hell did he go??
?Maybe he ran back to his mommy?? one of the soldiers assigned to the sergeant suggested, doing his best to maintain an innocent expression. His joke brought a round of laughter from the other crewmembers, none of which had particularly liked the youth. The sergeant shot him a dirty look, not being in the mood for jests, and was about to berate the soldier when a high-pitched whistle drew everyone?s attention to the dark alleyway.
A slight figure moved in those shadows, stepping away from the archway into the morning light. Dressed totally in black, the trench coat the newcomer wore obscured much of its form. Sunlight glinted off the many rings in the stranger?s ears, ears that were much longer than any the sergeant had seen before, but the soldier?s attention was drawn to the heavy coil of rope the stranger held.
?Hey, slag!? The voice was low, definitely male, and almost guttural as he held up the rope. ?You were lookin? for this?? The rope was tossed down with an almost contemptuous gesture. The sergeant was shocked into a second?s pause, but he quickly regained his composure.
?Get him!? His men were already starting to move, two snatching for crossbows, the others drawing swords as they started forward.
?Ohh, playtime!? The slight figure raised his hand, pointing a strange weapon toward one of the crossbowmen. A loud crack reverberated, and the soldier fell back, blood spraying from a suddenly larger eye socket. A minor shift of his hand, and one of the charging soldiers staggered as several wounds blossomed across his chest, the bullets tearing through the armor as though it was so much paper.
Coming in on his left, one of the Cisran?s slashed across with his longsword, and staggered as the weapon arced through empty space. The man had dropped back with near inhuman speed as he holstered the gun and drew a gleaming sword and large knife from his belt, spinning to the right and away from the first solder, who had his throat slashed before he could recover. The third stopped short, weapon raised in a defensive posture as he gaped at the speed of the kill.
?C?mon, slag? ? The elf taunted as he closed in, weapons weaving in a spiral pattern before him. ?..time to be a hero.? The soldier did not take the bait, instead slowly moving backward. The sergeant eased backward also, heading toward a covered entrance to the tower above, intending on getting help. The dark-clad elf slowly darted his eyes between the two before he growled softly. ?Ah, screw this!? With that, he leaped forward, weapons almost buzzing through the air.
The soldier was good, getting his sword around to block each slash coming at him. He made not attempt to press an offensive attack on his own, instead giving ground before the frenzied elf. He edged around the trebuchet, where the other crossbowman knelt, weapon raised as he started to draw a bead on the elf.
The elf cut a quick look in that direction, and snarled as he saw the finger start to tighten on the trigger of the crossbow. The bolt never flew, though, as a jagged slash bloomed across the man?s throat. Dropping the weapon, he clutched at his throat as he fell forward. The elf had a hint of a long ponytail and crimson eyes in the shadows, but it was put out of mind as he spun around, dropping into a crouch to slash out at his opponents legs. His blade bit deep into the knee, and as the soldier cried out in pain and fell he completed the spin to be facing the sergeant.
?Who the hell are you?? The older soldier asked his weapon shaking slightly as he continued to back away. The elf smirked, sheathing his sword and dagger, and again pulling the strange gun from its holster on his leg.
?Name?s Lusiphur, drekhead.? He growled, enjoying the look on the man?s face as he brought up his gun. ?Time ta say goodnight to the sandman.? Seeing his death in those eyes, the soldier turned to run, trying to duck low as if to dodge the bullet. However, he was much to slow, the bark of the gun the last thing he heard, the bullet blowing through his head and sending a wash of gore over the grey wall. ?Stupid idiot.? Lusiphur swore softly as he turned away, and looked straight into the eyes of the soldier he had taken down a moment before. The man had managed to regain his feet, and had his sword back to slash at Lusiphur?s back.
As fast as he could move, and did, Lusiphur knew he could not get his sword out to block the blow. The sword started forward, time seeming to slow as it arced around to decapitate him. The blow went wide though, as the soldier was knocked off balance again, this time by a black-footed boot that slammed into his side. Lusiphur had a second's glimpse of a long black ponytail as he scrambled to his feet, The General flashing out and drawing a deep line across the soldiers throat.
Not waiting to see his enemy fall, Lusiphur turned and ran for the archway leading deeper into the city, looking to sow his own unique brand of chaos.