Torn Asunder

Torn Asunder - 1 - 11

The caravan site, easily located by following the smoke that is darkening the sky. With-in a few hundred feet you can already smell the stench of burning flesh and clothing. The group, first on the scene, bares witness to a horrific scene. The light moans of the living are carried on the wind with the sounds of gnawing and gnashing. It doesn’t see you, but you see it, a small hoard of imps and a single small abomination. As the imps pull apart the bodies of the handful of living people they dance about in the spray of blood, like children would in a sprinkler in summer heat. Their gleeful laughter at the shower of blood send chills down your spines. The imps, hand over hand, forming lines, passing the limbs and body parts upwards to the abomination. It pulls the meat and flesh off the bones with it’s tendril limbs and visibly savors the dripping fresh meat. The sound of glass shattering brakes the mood in an instant. Instead of looking to the imps, it is the good doctor that heads turn to instead. Mike Hardy grins a fools grin at the great use he just got out of his empty whisky bottle. “Its a good a day as any, lets get this over with.” He then pulls out a loaded handgun and crouches down taking Aim at the big nasty in the middle.

Bill Asche strides forward with menacing steps, Long rifle held two handed at his hip and lever action shots cannoning away with thunderous rapport.

“By the damnation you spawn from you shit filth! Get yer foul rotten puke off MY people.”

Barely swaying or taking any precautions, Asche’s pace is neither a run nor a stalk but a purposeful advance into the hell the poor souls have been beset upon.

“You forsaken fuck heads need to get some good twenty millimeter purification and understand that this spooge stain ya made of the land is bein set right!”

The unsuspecting reavers of the wounded are jolted to action as one of them takes a large caliber to the chest, throwing them back into the tall grass in a spray of black blood and another finds his head spinning to see the face of a large insect as it lunges a knife into it’s chest.

Taking advantages of the gap in the line Varanus runs up to those still living and uses To-Zai-Zen to shield them from the demons. Memories of Varanus’s past flood his mind making him shutter slightly as he charges to his target. “No more shall die by you filth.”

Ellisar lets out a low grumble looking upon the site before him. A thousand yard stare wouldn’t begin to cover the distance of his gaze.

He immediately breaks for the abomonation amongst the carnage, leaping from side to side along the way, and leaping over the imp line effortlessly. Coming to a stop before the creature, Ellisar takes a defensive stance.

“I shall not return you from where you came…but send you to oblivion you deserve.”

Joseph closes on the scene and suddenly goes from frantic and rushed to cold and caulated, its like a switched turned from a troubled man to a warrior. His eyes narrow and thin to points and he quickly scans the scene. "Careful with the firearms, they still are mostly resistant to modern weapons.

As he speaks his hands drop and he moves forward with a calculated effort. Both hands lift up the weapons a cross bow and a mace respectively one in each hand, and he makes his best effort to get the attention of the imps by laying waste to everything in reach. His hand levys the crossbow and takes a center aim on the furthest imp, and then as soon as he fires he drops the crossbow letting it slide behind his back as he puts both hands around the mace and lays into the next nearest imp. While doing this his eyes are constantly scanning the battlefield to put himself in the best position to be able to defend and prepare for oncoming assault.



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