Zurra rushed off into a stomping stride of a sprint, her metal armor clanging all the way as she made her way back inside the village walls. Urgency oozed off of her due to her rushed movements and also the fact she nearly trampled Runhar in her charge.
"WHOA! Careful! What happened? Is it dead?! Is Michael de-" Runhar asked panicked trying to discern the reason for the smithy's haste.
"No and hopefully not, got to get to me workshop. He be buyin' me time. Go assist, the bloody thing's a menace!" Zurra said returning to the full speed of her stride.
The younger guard captain nodded with a snort as he rushed out the gate, his form shifting with heavier steps due to the weight of the dirt armor.
Once outside the village walls he could see in the distance the undead Titan fighting Michael, or to be exact Michael running away and back into it. The splattering of the ichor like black gore being noticeable, but faintly. Runhar's eyes widened with a mix of surprise and confusion. 'Ma's spell shouldn't let him run THAT fast. He is pummelin' it to pieces. Brood Mother... did he just rip it in half?!' The young Tuskir man got closer and closer witnessing the continuation of the fight, his stride slowing down bit by bit as he kept seeing the human overwhelm their enemy. 'Hah... and here I was worried. Of course he'll win. He's been reliable in a fight. Glad I get to see it.'
Once he saw Michael spear the creature's head with his arm, Runhar's stride nearly came to a halt, as he now moved leisurely. His body relaxing as he now knew it was over. The young captain was about to speak, to congratulate his hooman ally on his victory, but his voice died in his throat as he saw the many crooked skewer like bones impale Michael's lower body from all directions. A feeling of disbelief and shock was wrecking his system as he saw the oozing monstrosity slowly knitting itself back together.
'No... he can't lose, can he?! He's beat me, he's been doing so much for us... He... We... He's just another person and we've been using him like he's a weapon that can't lose.' As Runhar's mind came to this realization, his heart began filling up with a rage built on shame, a thirst for retribution for his own choices hitting him.
The captain's legs bursted into a powerful sprint as the necromantic golem loomed over Michael, cackling. It's blackened form shot out tendrils that began wrapping around the broken man's body.
'Oh, no, you don't!' Runhar thought with a growled squeal leaving his throat. After managing to get within a certain distance he began mumbling under his breath, the runed bracelets on his left wrist lighting up and spinning. "Bring the mountain's rumble, So my enemies take a tumble. Earth Pillar!" The captain yelled out as he took a running leap, slamming his shield against the grassy mud.
Underneath the golem the dirt shifted quickly jotting upwards, a pillar about the size of a small shack shooting the undead behemoth upwards and at an angle. The sudden motion yanked Vespertilia's puppet away, making it drop Michael with a small thud.
The shaman peered stupefied at the elevated view of her minion, now seeing the guard captain who literally took away her victory at the last second. "OH NO YOU DON'T! ABSOLUTELY NOT!" She yelled out exasperated as she stared daggers into Runhar's soul, her minion projecting her frustration. The mass of bones and black ichor then shot out tendrils of the black goo that wrapped around the dirt pillar, pulling itself hard towards the guard captain.
With a huffed snort Runhar managed to back up as the golem impacted the ground on his position, blocking a rushed glancing blow from it which shot dirt off of his shield. "I BLOODY WILL! IF YOU THINK YOU CAN TAKE OUR BROTHER..." Runhar squealed angrily as he charged, showing the apparent motions of an incoming Land Slide attack.
Vespertilia recognized the movement and as if pulled by strings her gore puppet lept back. As her view refocused through the motions, she didn't see Runhar ahead instead she saw a hole in the ground.
With her dodge still in motion the dirt under the Hay-yen undead amalgam bursted out in a spray, as Runhar jumped out. He slammed the jagged edge of his dirt packed shield into the throat and chin of the behemoth. The guard captain then brought down his other arm wielding his hand axe, shoving the downwards tipped end of the axe at the base of the creature's skull. "... YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER THING COMIN'!" He roared in the middle of his attacking leap.
The golem grew still and silent for just a moment, Runhar hanging off of it from his axe, but it then shifted with a quick motion. "Almost impressive, almost..." Vespertilia said as the golem point blanked the young Tuskir man with its giant fist, bigger than his head, right in his snout. The impact cracked and splintered the earth helmet enveloping his head, sending him skipping on the grass, much like how Michael did before.
The boar man let out groaned squeals with each impact of his body onto the ground, his magical armor being mostly broken apart and shredded. His eyes trembled as they stared into a blur of darkness, unable to refocus, his thinking shaken akin to the surface of water upon which a boulder was dropped as it then rippled violently. 'W-what happened... can't think... the... fight? The thing... it hit me... get up!' He yelled at himself mentally, gasping for air as his body shook, his muscles refusing to obey.
'GET UP! YOU CAN'T LIE DOWN...' He roared at himself mentally as he tried to bring his legs under him, fruitlessly. Gasping for air with shallow breath as he was curled up on his hands and knees, he could hear heavy thudding and quick steps. 'GET UP, OR THAT DREAM BECOMES REALITY!'
With a painfully forced breath of actual air, Runhar roared a squeal, his vision managing to come to him, just in time to block with his shield the ichor monster's claw swipe, which ripped apart his wooden shield. This bought the Tuskir just enough time to roll backwards with the force of the blow.
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"Are all of you determined little vermin?!" Vespertilia asked as the golem growled.
Runhar, on one knee, shakily got up as he let out a huffed oink, tightening his grip on his hand axe. "We- snort ... picked up a bad habit." He huffed out as he stared down the undead, his snout now slightly crooked and bleeding heavily, each exhale sputtering with a fresh gush of blood.
"I noticed, you bush curs just couldn't go down silently!" The shaman retorted annoyed, but before she could continue her assault, the wooden wall of the village closest to the two just exploded to splinters.
Dust kicked up as wood and barbed wire got sent flying about. Through the mist of dusty dirt a loud metallic and echoing squeal rang out followed by quick metal stomping.
"NOTICE THIS YA FUCKEN' CUNT!" Zurra's voice rang out of the dust cloud as a pair of large iron legs came out into a flying drop kick, nailing the black oozing golem in its left shoulder and the side of the head. The brutal maneuver sent it backwards from the contact point and onto its side.
The metal legs of the attacker thumped onto the ground and quickly got up as the rest then followed out of the dust. Zurra's oversized form came out, clad in iron wrapped tightly around her body, in a manner almost making it look like living metal. She growled and squealed madder than a mother boar with babies by her side, possibly either bubbling spit or foam dripping from inbetween her clenched teeth. The smith was now about the same size as the ichor monstrosity, if not slightly smaller. "Runhar! I can only do this fer a short time, grab da boy!" She said in a thundering tone before charging Vespertilia's oversized undead.
The guard captain nodded rushing off towards Michael while the smith tackled into the behemoth again, who roared angrily. "OH FOR DEV-..." The shaman's speech through it was cut short though, as Zurra grasped the oozing maw of the creature and just kept slamming the back of its head against the ground, squealing and oinking mad.
Runhar reached Michael and his eyes widened as he saw the hooman. He was laying on his back unmoving, his breathing so slow and ragged you would not notice it if you didn't get close. His right eyes was caked in semi dried blood, the cuts on his forehead's side and temple, covered in dirt and crusted. His legs bent in a faint zigzag along the tibia and they had several entry and exit wounds, from the spike attacks and his own bones impaling him on their way out, when they broke. Lastly, his right arm was now more agressively bent at the forearm's half point outwards, around a 10 - 15 degree angle, the digits on that same arm, having the skin split apart on the knuckles and down the fingers, exposing twitching muscle.
"What did ya do to yourself?" The guard captain said trying to gingerly pick him up.
As he got one hand under Michael's head, the young man's left arm shot out pathetically weak to grab at Runhar's wrist, still managing to catch his hand, simply due to the shock of the Tuskir. His left eye opened, as an unfocused pupil shakily looked at the boar man. Despite the clear exhaustion written on his expression, his gaze was much alive and the broken body seemed to lightly shimmy and shift as if trying to get up.
"No, no, no... yer legs are broken, Michael. I'm gettin' ya outta here." Runhar said as he finally shook off the shock from seeing his ally still moving in his current state.
The young human seemed to mumble as he shallowly gasped for air, his chest barely lifting as he tried to bring more oxygen in his lungs. Runhar got desperate to start moving so he lifted up Michael, at which his own aching body protested.
He went into a slow limping run carrying his broken ally in his arms, feeling his blood start to dampen the fur on his forearms and hands. As he got about halfway towards the opening in the wall where Zurra came from, the ground shook as something heavy impacted near him.
It was the oversized smith herself, the metal on her form cracked or bent. Her joints creaked like unoiled hinges as she attempted to get up. "Agh... I'm too fuken' ol' for this type of shite... still gon' beat that whoreson's ass. You better get him in-... side..." Zurra's voice died in her throat as her eyes finally landed properly on Michael and his one visible eye stared back at her. A flood of bloody and forgotten memories came over her, of a son she never got to see growing up and of how they butchered him... how she cried over her piglet. She almost seemed to crumble right there and then.
Michael's left hand shakily reached to touch her oversized shoulder, staining the metal with the bloody print of his palm. He began mouthing something.
Zurra looked at him with a shook gaze as she instinctively leaned to hear him, the oversized ear of the smith, nearly covering his face. She listened with tears bunching at the edge of her eyes, until... they didn't. Instead the pupils of the boar woman got steady as her ears perked up. She began letting out a cackling oinking, snorted and heavy ending in a squeal.
"Oh boy... if I wasn' afraid I'd kill ya, I'd nuzzle that big head o' yours." She said nearly motherly, if not for the boiling anger and determination in her voice starting to come back. The Tuskir metal beast herself got back to her feet and with a hand she ripped out one of the wood spikes forming the village's wall.
Vespertillia's golem had managed to recover from the damage Zurra inflicted and it was making its way towards the group. "I AM UNSTOPPABLE YOU DIRT ROLLING TRASH! STRUGGLE AS YOU MAY, YOU WILL ALL JUST BE KILLED OR BENT UNDER MY CLAW. IT IS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME!" The shaman screeched out semi distorted from her golem's throat.
Zurra snorted as she held the large wooden spike at her side like a bat, with the spike point down. "YE? ONLY A MATTER O' TIME YE SAY? HOW AB'UT YOU GET BENT AN' SHAFTED YA BONEY MUTT!" The old Tuskir said holding up the upside down spike like a club.
The ichor brute cackled a growl as it charged on all fours, the taunt of her metal enemy managing to rile up the shaman controlling it.
Zurra squealed as she charged as well, dragging the wood behind her like she was gonna bash its head in with it. Due to this dragging motion, her stride was much slower, but weirdly confident, as she kept lower to the ground, opening herself for leaps from above.
Vespertillia looked at the big metal hog with a spiteful glee as her undead toy leapt and tried to land legs first on Zurra, the massive bone claws trailing right behind her upper body.
While the motion got executed, the Tuskir woman slowed her movement much quicker, going into a forward slide with them. Spinning the wood quickly in her arms, the spike point got pulled up towards the sky.
The oozing construct of undeath proceeded to impale itself on it along the near perfect lenght of its body, showering Zurra in a splatter of the darkened gore.
Before it could recover the smith huffed in its face. "Like ah said ye drippy cunt..." she leaned in as one of her large metal hands reared back. "Ye can get bent an' shafted, literally. HRAAAGH!" She roared as she threw a hay maker right in the remaining blue burning orbit of the monster, the back of it exploding in a splattering of blue flames that quickly faded.
Everything then stood still as Zurra pulled her hand back, still on alert. She watched the oozing behemoth twitch and try to move, until it didn't and instead started to melt and break apart.
With a sigh of relief and groan of aching pain, she dropped the spike and it to the side and she then leaned down on the dirt with a ground shaking dull thud. "Oh... thank the Hunt Father that shite is over..."