Marie read the message, “One of the neighbors sent a picture of an orc in their backyard.”
“Which neighbor? And do they say how many orcs?” Derek asks, his tone shifting to a more focused, alert manner.
“Steve,” Marie replied with an eye-roll. “No, all I got was the picture and they asked what they should do.”
Derek nods, already mentally preparing for what might be needed. “I’ll handle it. Better to keep these things in check before they become a bigger problem.”
“Want me to go with you?” She asked.
“No, I figure I can handle it, but if you are scared for me to go alone, you can come. It’s going to be bloody.” Derek said, summoning the pry bar from his storage bracelet.
“Oh, I think I’ll stay here.” She said, eyeing his intention. “At least take your painter’s smock to keep the blood off.”
After saying goodbye, Derek stepped out of the house in a sweltering painter’s overall suit as he raced out the driveway and over to the next street.
Derek surveyed the scene with a careful eye. Steve’s yard still looked as immaculate as always, despite the three orcs meandering around the house. Each was in optimal range for his rifle, but he hesitated before he retrieved the rifle, pondering the noise it would generate. The loud shots might serve as a beacon, drawing more of these creatures than he could handle alone. The bar, while offering a much quieter option, carried its own risks. It required getting up close and personal, a test of skill and strength he was keen to undertake.
Derek thought carefully about what to do next, considering the risks. He noticed that the orcs moved clumsily, which meant they might not be very aware of their surroundings. This was something he could use to his advantage. Choosing to use the bar wasn’t just about being quiet; it was also a test for himself. He wanted to see how well he could do in this new, changed world. Derek knew that as the dangers grew, he would have to think more about tactics than just using weapons. This fight was a chance for him to learn and improve those important skills.
Derek got ready with careful steps. First, he made sure his handgun was safely in its holster and easy to reach in case things went wrong. He decided to keep his rifle, which had been useful before, in his storage device as a backup. For now, he was focusing on the bar, turning it into a weapon he could use well.
As he approached the orcs, each step was measured and deliberate. His body tensed, primed for the imminent confrontation. The bar now felt like an extension of his own resolve. It was a physical manifestation of his determination to adapt and overcome in this new, chaotic world.
Derek went over the fighting moves he had practiced in his mind. He pictured each swing and block, getting ready to turn what he had learned into action. As he got closer, he still had the element of surprise. The orcs didn’t notice him, wandering around without any purpose, unaware of the danger getting closer.
Reaching the optimal position, Derek took a final moment to align his strategy with the reality of the situation. Then, with a surge of adrenaline and a clear plan in mind, he made his move.
Derek shot into the yard with his bar readied. His enhanced physique due to the 22 physical ability points, allowed for him to run faster. He struck the nearest orc with the heavy end of his pry bar, before it even had a chance to turn, its head collapsing under the force of the blow.
The bar twirled overhead as Derek brought the heavy end around. As the approaching orc swung its club, a crude yet deadly weapon, Derek evaded with a swift duck and roll, feeling the club’s deadly whoosh. Springing up behind the orc, the bar spun with lethal intent. The bar connected heavily with the back of the orc’s head, causing a sharp, definitive crack as the skull gave way under the impact. The creature collapsed with a heavy thud, its head caved in from the impact, blood and brain matter painting the ground.
As he turned, another orc charged, bellowing a war cry that echoed with primal fury. Derek positioned himself, ready. The orc swung wildly, but Derek, with the seasoning of a newbie fighter, parried with the bar, redirecting the attack. Pivoting sharply, Derek landed a decisive strike on the orc’s temple. The force was enough to flatten the creature, causing it to collapse in a gory heap.
Suddenly, the sound of a warhorn echoed in the distance, a sign that more enemies were coming. Derek’s eyes narrowed as he quickly thought about what to do next. The few trees around didn’t offer much protection, but he could still use them in his strategy.
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As thundering footsteps heralded the arrival of more orcs, Derek braced himself. Orcs burst through the foliage, their eyes alight with a bloodthirsty glint. Reacting swiftly, Derek fired his gun, the shots ringing out. Two orcs fell after he emptied the magazine. His accuracy while heaving for air left a lot to be desire. Regardless, the others surged forward undeterred.
Holstering his gun, Derek gripped his bar with renewed vigor. An orc lunged, brandishing a jagged blade. Derek’s movement was a clumsy blur of motion, sidestepping the attack, then striking hard. The bar found the orc’s midsection with a thud, doubling it over in pain. With a grim determination, Derek brought the bar down on its back, the sound of shattering bone resonating through the air.
Another orc advanced, spear in hand. Derek twisted away, narrowly avoiding the spear’s deadly point. He countered with a rapid jab to the orc’s chest, followed by an uppercut swing that sent the orc sprawling to the ground, lifeless.
Pain flared in Derek’s chest as a spear slammed into his torso. Every plan crashed around him as the pain flooded his system. Instinctively, he grabbed the spear, ripping it from his chest.
Staying in the fight, he dodged, jumping and rolling out of the way. His breath left him as he blocked an incoming club. He felt the blood soaking into his clothes and it felt like his lung was collapsing as a cough brought up more blood.
Gritting his teeth against the sharp sting, he spun and lashed out with the bar, striking the orc across the face with a sound of breaking flesh. Reeling from the blow, the orc was an easy target for Derek’s final, powerful thrust to the throat.
Breathing heavily, Derek surveyed the scene. His eyes, cold and calculating, scanned for further threats. In this brutal new world, he knew the fight was never truly over. He steadied his breathing, readying himself for whatever came next, a lone warrior against the tide of darkness.
Derek moved back into a fighting stance and looked around, waiting for the next group. After nothing happened for a dozen seconds, he relaxed, and the mental pain block faded with the adrenaline. The pain from his punctured lung almost incapacitated him. He ripped the bloody paint coverall from his body and then his shirt. Then he summoned his EMT bag and dug through it to find a chest seal. Wiping the sweat away with a dry cloth from his EMT bag, he slapped the chest seal onto his body.
He fell to his knees coughing as blood filled his lung. At least without the looming threat of a collapsed lung, he was able to focus on the throbbing from his ear where the orc’s fist sent him into the fence. He was almost positive he had a minor concussion on top of the chest wound.
Derek turned his head as the sliding glass door of Steve’s house opened. Steve and his wife, Johanna, stepped out, their eyes widening at the sight of Derek’s blood-splattered appearance and the orc bodies strewn across their yard.
Derek applied an icepack to his head and wrapped a long around it to hold it in place.
“Derek,” Steve greeted, his voice tinted with surprise.
“Morning, Steve, Jo. Just doing a bit of impromptu landscaping with orcs,” Derek quipped, a smirk playing on his bloody lips. “Oh, and I see your dandelion situation hasn’t improved. Maybe orc blood is the miracle cure you’ve been looking for.”
Steve sighed, eyeing the mess on his lawn. “Those dandelions are the real monsters here. I swear, they’re more resilient than the monsters.”
“Are you okay?” Johanna asked.
“Not particularly.” Derek smiled. “I’m not sure if I’ll survive this one, at least not without surgery. I should be getting home. Don’t worry the orc bodies will vanish on their own. No clean-up required, and about the blood, consider it an experimental fertilizer. Who knows, you might start a new gardening trend.”
Johanna wrinkled her nose. “That’s a trend I could do without,” she muttered, still eyeing his chest.
Derek stored his bag away and stood, swaying slightly. He retrieved his gun, replaced the magazine, and picked up the blood covered bar.
“Do you want us to take you home?” Johanna asked.
“No, that’s alright, I wouldn’t want you to attract unnecessary attention. I’ll see you later at the community meeting, were serving food.” Derek said, walking off while managing the pain as much as he could.
He picked up the orc’s warhorn and made his way home, contemplating the effectiveness of an orc-based gardening service. As he walked, he opened his interface to check for updates.
Congratulations:
You have killed 9 orcs.
Rewards:
375 experience
142 credits
After dealing with the orcs, Derek slowly started feeling better as he walked him, the pain slowly receded. He used the walk home to mentally review the encounter. He noted the effectiveness of his tactics and the utility of the bar as a weapon. The thought of encountering more formidable creatures crossed his mind, prompting him to consider potential enhancements to his arsenal or tactics. As he walked, he also contemplated the neighborhood’s overall security, pondering additional measures they might need to implement to ensure safety. His practical mind was already listing tasks to be done once he got home, ranging from checking on their food supplies to reinforcing their home defenses.
It was too much thinking for someone with a life-threatening injury. Doubly so, since there wasn’t a paramedic to help him, nor a doctor. The thought shocked him, he was supposed to be feeling like he was dying, but now that he was almost home the pain was nearly completely gone.