As everyone prepares to leave (preferably not before. It would be incredibly awkward to be cutting people up while the rest of the party makes googly eyes at each other
) Brock prepares for the execution. He weighs the new axe in his hands, comparing its killing potential to his hatchet. Picking the more deadly of the two, he swings it in the air a few times and takes a deep breath.
...I was wrong when I said this wasn't much different from being a bandit. Its not different at all. We might share the loot, but that just makes us generous bandits. Why....am I so disappointed by that?Brock's face hardens once again. He swings his weapon through the air, more forcefully this time. He thinks back to all the hardtack he had to eat, and the seven course meals of the nobles in turn. He takes another swing, strong enough to kick up dust. He thinks back to the castles of Mordo, compared to his leaky tent. Another swing, as if he were cutting an invisible man in half. He thinks back to his family-starving under the boot of Mordo if nothing worse. A third strike flew out as if he intended to slice the sky itself into pieces-accompanied by an animalistic grunt. His face was once again twisted in rage-towards Mordo and everyone in it.
Like an arrow, he shot off toward the grouped prisoners. With his free hand, Brock lifts the closest and tosses him a short distance away, onto his back. Said free hand then joins the other on the axe, over his head. The axe goes down hard on the prisoner's neck, enough force to sever it cleanly and cut into the dirt below it. The second would suffer a similar fate, but his position relative to Brock meant he spent his last moments kissing the Earth goodbye. With the group now down to almost half, the third prisoner was dragged two paces away. The axe came down at an angle this time-falling in a half circle. The kill was still clean, but a bit bloodier then the others. The fourth was pushed to the ground by Brock's foot, which held his shoulder in place as the blade came down. At this point, the end result is certainly clear. Now breathing heavily, Brock fell to his knees near the last one. Brock then pushes the man to the ground by his throat, rising his axe high in the air to make up for the lost distance, as it falls down one last time. Quickly, cleanly, and brutally the prisoners were brought down. It all happened in the time it took to blink-swift enough its possible the prisoners didn't realize what was happening before it was over.
Brock's face and breathing return to normal as he returns to the cart, pulling out one of the remaining wines and downing it much less cheerfully then before.
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Topic: FEF: Liberation of Izzarra IC Thread (Read 107086 times)