Grim Ruination, Birth of a Soul (On Hiatus)

The Bandits (Book 2 premiere)

Gandrik looked into the exit of the cave where their fort had been set up. The bright sunlight seemed to funnel directly into his eyes, making him have to constantly squint to see anything beyond it.

The broadsword on his scabbard at his side was beginning to make his sides ache. Not to mention that he kept having to constantly walk side to side to keep the blood from draining from his muscles. Despite being a proud half-orc who adored combat as much as the next green-skinned warrior, he was beginning to hate all the weaponry he had to carry around. In fact, the bow and quiver he was supposed to have on him at all times simply rested next to the makeshift thatch platform he stood upon.

He turned his head toward the depths of the cave where light quickly faded, only being scarcely lit by torches hanging from sconces along the fort's walls. He looked to another guard within the inner wall; a blue lizardfolk named Brok. To Gandrik in the dim cave, however, he looked like an out-of-place, blue spec in the dark cave.

Gandrik raised an arm and waved at his fellow guardsman. A second later he saw the small blue speck shift lightly, a sign he'd waved back. A smirk appeared on Gandrik's face as he raised his arms and began to wave a large pattern with them. A form of communication the two had come up with to communicate to each other over long distances such as this. "When does shift change?" He signaled out. As is the drawback of making this form of communication, the vocabulary was pretty limited, although they knew well enough what the other was saying to get the point across most of the time.

Gandrik looked as he saw the small blue speck waving their arms in the air. With a squint, Gandrik could just barely make out the patterns. 'You? 4 hours. Me? Not chanage until-' suddenly the small blue blot disappeared. Like a small flame being extinguished on a candle.

Gandrik blinked a few times, trying to refocus his eyes. Maybe his eyes just blanked him out. The depth of the cave were dim after all. But regardless he couldn't see his blue friend. He looked around his post, thinking that Brok might have moved from his post. But nothing happened.

Suddenly, Gandrik heard the sudden snapping of a large piece of wood from around the scaffolding he stood upon. Immediately, Gandrik reached to his quiver and quickly knocked an arrow on his bow. Hesitantly, Gandrik peered over the side of the thatch railing where the loud snap had come from. However as soon as he aimed his bow down the scaffolding edge, he immediately jumped backwards and dropped his bow as a figure shot up the side of the side of the platform, cutting his bow in two, and landing on the edge of the railing, glaring down at Gandrik as he stared in horror at the figure. No sooner did his expression turn to confusion as he saw the figure.

"A kid?" Gandrik mumbled to himself in awe as he looked up to see a kid, possibly late into their teenage years. He wore simply leather armor, a golden necklace with the small charm of a sword hung from his neck. In his hand was a finely crafted scimitar with several runes he didn't understand printed across it's blade.

Gandrik quickly rose to his feet and drew his blade as the figure leaped forward. Gandrik swung forward at the figure, but with inhuman speed, the figure ducking under his swing.

Before he could even pull his arm back, the figure swing their blade in an arc above them, cutting clean through Gandrik's muscular arm.

Gandrik stumbled back, beginning to tip over the edge of the platform. He opened his mouth to scream, but a golden scimitar appeared in the figure's free hand, and, with a simple swing, detached Gandrik's head from his shoulders.

Sago wasn't necessarily surprised when he got word that his encampment had been invaded. In fact, just last passing a small band of guardsmen had tried to come into his encampment in an attempt to kill him. What did surprise him were two things: first, that the invaders managed to fight their way into his treasury in the time it took for him to don his gear. Second, is the fact that this was all done by two people.