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   Chapter 15 No.15

The Adventures of Larson and Garrett - A People Defiled By AaronDennis Characters: 5229

Updated: 2018-01-08 12:03


With no recourse but to relinquish his axe, Larson bucked his hips, knocked a citizen off his body, rolled away from one spear, and caught another in the back of his leg; his armor protected him from detrimental damage, yet the pain was infuriating. With a shout of battle lust, he stood, punched a man in his face, kicked another then rolled to snatch his axe from the muddy ground. He swung over his head and brought it down right in front of a citizen, but without touching him.

Their eyes met, Larson's and the man's; Wilma shouldered her friend out of the way, parried a spear strike with her own short spear, rolled the tip of her weapon over the shaft of the enemy's, and forced the weapon from his grasp. A quick glance revealed the ogres were defeated, but more and more citizens surrounded the righteous warriors. They backed up until they were all in a tight formation; their weapons dripped with ogre blood and rain water. In front of them, beady eyes glared, and behind them, the evil church stood prominently.

"We're going to have to fight them, " Yoris advised.

"We can't, " Larson shouted. "We're here to protect them!"

"Not much we can do if we get creamed, " Seanessy interjected.

"Garrett, Lyalla, can you charm them, " Larson asked.

The citizens all stepped forwards menacingly. Their teeth were bared, their faces contorted in hatred, malice; they bore an ill will, and they meant to execute the warriors. Gritting their teeth, and furiously thinking of a way to solve the situation without bloodshed, the warriors held their grou

Stop fighting!" he pleaded.

His admonitions fell on deaf ears. The townsfolk did not stop, and neither did his friends. Among the heavy patter of rain and growls were shrieks of horror and the crackle of magick; fireballs and arcs of lightning blew through the crowd, and buildings were quick to catch fire. The illumination revealed the citizens as grim looking creatures; they were yet human, but their faces, their eyes, bore an unliving expression of pure hatred. They came after Larson, their wavering shadows followed like silent tormentors.

He dodged the swing of an axe by taking a knee. Next, he rolled into the legs of others, sending them to the ground. Coming to his feet, the warrior used the head of his axe to block a sword, and then he stormed forwards to send him and more toppling over. With a pocket in which to fight, he spun madly, blocking, parrying, and striking. All the while, the blood of innocents sprayed over his armor.

"Lyalla! Garrett! Where are you?!" he screamed, tears stinging his eyes. "Graaagh!"

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