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A Race to the Finish

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In this quest, Sir Marshall Gamesly once again gambles the honor of the Dogs of War in an effort to obtain a glorious prize for House Uldwar. Yet another phantasm ship has been discovered, and this time, it shall not fall into the wrong hands as the previous one had. By his honor as a knight, he will claim this ship, for the honor of House Uldwar, and for another chance to find that whore witch who nearly took his life on that beach.

Riding upon his horse, Sir Marshall was on the lookout for the ghost ship, knowing that it was going to be somewhere within the coastline of Corinth. From the warfare and the tyranny, there was no shortage of vessels that could be raised from the briny depths of the ocean, brought back to life with foul magic not meant for this world. On the plus side it allowed for copious chances to acquire one's very own spectral ship, however it also attracted a deep variety of strangers that were not welcome in these lands. Mercenaries, adventurers, madmen, all have come to claim their very own ghost ship as their prize.

As he rode, the knight heard a strange whistling noise, somewhere in the bushes to his right. When he called out to see who it was hiding within the shrubbery, there was no answer, and so Sir Marshall dismounted and drew his sword. Carefully he prodded at the plant, wanting to make certain that there was nothing waiting to ambush him. What he wasn't expecting was the wraith stalking him from behind, ready to make his entire day a living hell.

A shrieking wail surprised him, causing his horse to flee in terror as he spun to address the threat. It was a hideous thing, ethereal, rotten skin stretched over chipped bones that glowed in the moonlight. He looked to be a captain of the ship, clad in the vestments of a pirate, wielding a rusty cutlass, burning red hatred in the sockets where the eyes used to be. Their blades met, and suddenly Sir Marshall felt cold, his entire body beginning to chill as if the temperature all around him were falling. With a quick sidestep and a kick, he pushed back the ghost, his breath frosting against the warm air of the night.

Your quest is doomed. The wraith shrieked. Another seeks my ship, and I'll make sure you both die before getting to it.

With a blood curdling cackle the specter disappeared, and Sir Marshall was left without his horse. If there was truly another chasing after the ship he sought, then he had to move quickly, before he was beaten to the end of this race. On foot he ran, hoping to find his trusty steed before he lost to the likes of whatever stranger has put their sights on his prize. This time, that ship was going to be his.

@Dolor Aeternum

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This was his first official retrieval mission. His first chance to show his boss he could do more than just scribble on a piece of paper and deliver messages to scary vampyres. Xavier knew that his organization needed more physical assets. Things that could help them extend their reach further. The specifics of why eluded him but he remembered Nines always paying others for transportation and that seemed rather tiresome. At least Blob Boss seemed to be going a different route, one that didn’t involve him having to stick himself into cramped spaces to avoid having someone scoff at an orc coming along no matter how refined and learned he was. He knew his boss wished for a world where the opinions most of these Terrans held about races like his were not capable of suppressing his potential to be whatever he wanted to be. Just thinking about it produced a confidence in his steps that led him on the path he now took toward an actual ship that could be used. He could imagine it now, sailing to the rendezvous point in a brand new ship and those crimson eyes of Blob boss marveling at his accomplishment and telling him that he was the best employee he had ever had.

 

A large grunt expelled from his mouth before he chuckled and continued his brisk jog in the direction he believed the ship was located. The sound of whistling stirred his attention and the black armor he wore rippled in response as well. Xavier confidently yelled out. “Who there?!” The grotesque site of a wraith that looked very much like a rotten pirate shot out toward him with a flying lunge of the sword which the orc had no problem side-stepping but the shriek that followed signaled the next few words.

 

“You will never get my ship. Neither you nor the other that seeks it will live to captain her as their own”

 

Wait…did that spooky guy just say other? He had competition?! He thought he had enough to worry about with that Cedric guy but now he can possibly lose his quest for glory? No…No…just no.

 

“No creepy pirate ghost guy!”

 

Muscles tightened and then he began to sprint, the terrain he traversed a bit precarious which slowed his fast pace down just a bit but not enough to discourage him. Jumping over large rocks and maneuvering with an agility orcs were not that well known for the race for success began. Xavier needed another win. Then…maybe then he be as great as that puny little faerie.

Edited by Dolor Aeternum

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The chase was on, and Sir Marshall was giving it his all in order to achieve victory. Legs were pumping, his heart was racing, and the sounds of the forest were growing quieter in response. If he could simply get to his horse, he could get to the shore faster, and his chances of getting to that ship were all the better.

Whoever it was he was in competition with was in for a difficult run. As a native to this place, he could withstand the heat to.a greater degree, though in full plate it was difficult no matter what. Feeling the adrenaline coursing through him, Sir Marshall understood the importance of pacing oneself. Speed was useless without stamina, and so he would not allow himself to run out of fuel before making it to his horse. There was another whistling sound cutting through the air, and Sir Marshall dove for the ground, just before the sound of thundering guns pierced the quiet evening.

Just as he thought, the gunfire was very much real, and the devastation wrought upon the surrounding foliage was enough to convince him of such. Not only was the knight competing against an unknown variable, but was facing off against an angry ghost intent on ending his life. Evading the volley had cost him some time, but surely his opponent wasn't traveling to the same destination unmolested as well. If this thing was out to kill a knight, it was likely to destroy his opponent as well, the main component here was endurance.

Picking himself up off the ground, Sir Marshall continued to run, whistling on occasion to try and get his steeds attention. With any luck he could get the horse to come to him instead of having to run all over the place.

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For an orc of his size, Xavier maneuvered around the terrain admirably, unperturbed by the humid heat of the area but still imperfect in his approach toward the ship. This became abundantly clear as he bound forward, jumping from rock to rock only to suddenly feel a chill surge through him in midair. The wraith that had made it a mission to become the bane of his travels flew directly through him in mid-flight, muscles tensing from the cold so much that Xavier could not stick his landing well. A massive right foot did not stick its landing correctly, buckling and causing him to stumble forward and on to the floor before him. With his momentum halted, Xavier heard gunshots in the distance and shot himself up to a stand in surprise. His armor began to undulate wildly as it reacted to both Xavier’s surprise and the increasingly chaotic environment around them, providing a physical manifestation that the black leather armor he wore was not some run-of-the-mill item purchased in some Terran marketplace. Cracking his neck and gripping his fists just to make sure his joints were still operational, he moved forward yet again only to hear the constant whistling from Sir Marshall in the distance.

 

“Stop whistling!”

 

His voice yelled out and carried itself rather well. That voice was deep in tone, there was a tinge of youthfulness that may have been noticed as well. Xavier was still a good distance away from Sir Marshall and the myriad of obstacles that the terrain provided would not allow the knight to see who it was that voiced their annoyance. The orc huffed and then began moving forward yet again eventually reaching a large clearing where he could see the mast of what looks to be the ship in the distance. Excitement pumped into his body at the prospect of reaching the vessel first but it was soon challenged by the sound of gunshots again, this time aimed toward him. A bullet ricocheted off of a nearby rock and caused him to flinch before he dove behind a rock in front of him.

 

“Even if you do reach my ship, she will never bow to thee”

 

The eerie voice was amplified by the chilling sensation once again before the wraith swooped past his peripheral vision. Ramming a fist into his chest several times in exhortation, he began talking to himself.

 

“Cant let Blob Boss down. Got to get ship. Just move…”

 

Though there was still quite a trek toward his prize, the orc’s stamina only lightly waivered after the fall and scare that had briefly troubled him. He vaguely remembered something his mother always used to tell him before thrusting him into combat.

 

“Orc earns everything wit strength. You do same!”

 

Sniffling then snorting at the thought of his deceased mother, he steeled himself and continued toward the ship well on track to seeing it in its full glory within minutes.

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His opponent had made himself known, but Sir Marshall could not see him, so he must still be some distance away. There was no telling exactly how far away it was, but it gave the knight hope at least that he was ahead of the one trying to rob him of this glory. Now if only he could find his horse, he could breeze his way right to the ship.

Bursting through the bushes, he had indeed discovered his horse, surrounded by a group of ghostly pirates. They prodded at the poor beast with all manner of weapons, keeping it scared and in one place, laughing as it neighed and whinnied in distress. After a cursory glance none of them appeared to be the same captain that had taken a swipe at him, but that didn't rule out the possibility he might be lurking nearby. Even if the captain was right in front of him, he would not tolerate the abuse of his beloved horse any longer.

"Stop you villains!" He shouted, catching their attention while drawing his sword. "Leave or die, your choice."

Looking over at him, the ghostly pirates sneered and snarled, their attention fully on him as they began to face him fully. Each one looked cold, their every step frosting the ground beneath them, eyes filled with a deep hatred for the living. Steeling himself for the ensuing fight, Sir Marshall recalled the words of his house, giving him the courage and the strength to face this challenge.

"In battle we are whole." He said, then charged forward to give battle to unholy spirits.

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Xavier could smell the sea nearby, that familiar smell invading his huge nostrils and causing him to scrunch up his nose as he power walked his way toward the ship. The mast continued to reveal itself to him during his approach, Xavier only now noticing the spectral quality of the ship that made it almost seem transparent though he knew it was within the physical realm as he noticed a few birds perched along the top of the mast. Entering a narrow path between a rock structure that curved wickedly several times but still led him toward the ship, he began to hear echoes and screams along the path that caused him to tense up.

 

The narrow pathway began to block much of the light in the area, creating a darkness that made him remember one of the ways Blob Boss preferred to intimidate others. Darkness to Xavier, however, was comforting. He didn’t have to worry about how others perceived him since he could not see anyone. He could focus on himself and hone his senses. He had fond memories within the solace darkness provided, even when the chieftain of his tribe long ago threw him into that dark room and told all of the other young orcs to bruise or batter him in order for him to gain strength. So when he saw several glowing apparitions several feet in front of him, readying all sorts of swords and daggers as if they planned on attacking him Xavier stayed calm while hearing them speak.

 

“The captain will not allow anyone to board her. Even in death we are bound to follow him to the depths of the Terran seas!”

 

The apparitions flew forward, going through the rock walls in varying movements, their weapons spectral in nature as well until Xavier felt the sting of a dagger in his side. The blade had not hit any vital organs but it sparked the rage of the armor that was supposed to protect its wearer, the now liquid like substance expanding to cover that wound and begin closing the wound almost immediately. This left some of his shoulder vulnerable which felt the sting of yet another dagger. The armor stretched itself again to begin repairing the wounds but the pain remained. Xavier, in all his confidence, understood that he was at a severe disadvantage. Memories resurfaced of the beatings he endured as a child and Xavier knew he would not bother trying to strategize his way out of this. Instead, he covered himself as best he could with the help of his armor which found itself covering much of Xavier’s upper body and groin area as Xavier rushed his way ahead.

 

Swords swiped into liquid like black and found flesh along his chest, along his thighs, and several along his arms that protected his heart. Xavier clenched his fists, gritted his teeth until finally the pain reached a threshold that caused Xavier to let loose a furious roar before speaking very loudly as the pain didn’t allow him to calm down.

 

“I not die here. I live to see Blob Boss’ dream com tru!”

 

Adrenaline surged in him and he rushed himself through, enduring several other slashes and stabs from the weaponry of the apparitions only to emerge from the path and stumble to the floor in a mess of black ichor and his own blood. Falling to a knee but every resilient, his eyes feasted on the sight of the ship across a sizeable amount of water. He was close…but he knew he had paid a rough price to get here. The apparitions behind him seemed unable to reach him now that he had passed through the narrow pathway so with his entire body feeling the immense pain he began pulling himself toward the water with his right arm as his armor began patching him up without any distractions now hoping that his competition would suffer equally or more on their own journey for this prize.

Spoiler

Rolled a 9 in Dice thread for Crit damage per NDS

 

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Charging forward into battle, Sir Marshall had his weapon ready, knowing that it was to be a difficult encounter in itself. Against so many foes, the knight was aware his body would not survive this unscathed. Regardless of such things, he threw himself into the fray, rushing headlong into the battle so that he may gain the upper hand.

Weapons clashed, the ghosts hammered at him relentlessly, yet he fought on with the strength of a lion. Shouting and howling in a frenzy, the ghosts did all they could to end Sir Marshall's life, but he was not an easy man to put down. His armor bore the brunt of the damage, yet it could not stop the near endless freezing cold that was nearly freezing him in place. If they continued at such a pace, Sir Marshall would be frozen solid, at the mercy of these murderous specters.

In the blink of an eye there came the swift charge of his horse, trampling the ghosts beneath his mighty hooves, snorting and neighing as it protected its master. Never in all his years had he been so happy to see his steed come to his rescue, quickly jumping onto it, coaxing it to go faster as they raced away from the ghosts, heading straight for the ship. The air was filled with angry cursing, but Marshall didn't care. Death wasn't coming for him at this moment, confounded by the likes of an equine savior.

Blood was running through his plated armor, the wounds first thawing before leaking his life essence in earnest. In a matter of moments, droplets of blood splattered on dirt, and then on sand, as the knight finally caught sight of his prize. "There it is...the blasted ghost ship."

He was only a hundred yards away from the orc who had been going after the same vessel Sir Marshall was. Between them at the halfway mark was probably the dingiest life boat to ever float upon the waters. The boards were rotten, the oars looked weak and ready to break, but as Gaia as his witness, it would get the knight over to that ship. All he had to do was get to it before the orc did, and then he would finally be the victor.

"Come on...just one more gallop, that's all I need from you. Heya!" He shouted, kicking the horse with his heels, sand being thrown about as the new race was on. For honor, for glory, for House Uldwar!

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Xavier’s bulky hand pressed hard against the sandy floor, sinking in until it found enough resistance to help push him toward the shore. With each pull, he could feel the black substance gifted to him by Blob Boss improving his abilities and his current health. The pain he felt began to wither away from the efforts of the sentient ooze but his approach was still too slow to give him any advantage. Leaving a trail of black ooze and blood behind him that had begun to solidify itself as his wounds were sealed, he filled himself with an urgency he had never experienced in this manner before. The thought of failing his Blob Boss induced a fear in him that only augmented what little strength he had left. It wasn’t the fear of what his employer might do, but a sincere fear that he would hinder their organization’s goals and he would halt the progress toward the future he was promised.

 

Hearing the distinct sound of galloping in the distance, Xavier wearily turned his head as he continued to push himself to notice Sir Marshall upon his horse heading toward the shore as well. Desperation harshly embraced him as soon as he noticed the lifeboat only a few feet away from him. He had gained so much ground ahead of the competitor only to suffer a handicap that could prevent him from reaching the ghost ship that taunted him viciously across the water. Punching into the sand below him, he elevated himself enough to get to his knees, halting for a few moments to gather himself before using the lingering pain again to amplify his voice.

 

“Go home Mr. Knight! Let me have this one….”

 

Xavier had seen enough of the heavy armor the man wore to deduce that Sir Marshall was some sort of knight and as the man continued to get closer, to the point where all he needed to do was dismount and sprint his way toward the life boat. Scraping into reserves, Xavier would feverishly begin crawling his way toward the boat. If only he could board the small vessel and kick his way into the sea, he could win! This was for justice…for peace….for a better future for unnaturals and all who’ve suffered at the hands of the Terran government!

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Muscles were screaming, his heart was pounding in his chest. Sir Marshall was so very close to the boat, victory was right in his hands. Just a few more feet!

One slip, one slip was all it took to dash away his dreams of claiming his prize. A singular thought went through his mind during the time his body fell off his saddle, heading straight for a hard impact on the sandy beach. It's just not fair, he thought to himself, and then his whole world was covered in darkness.

Seconds later he came to, his horse gone, the boat still just a few feet away. Unfortunately for Sir Marshall, there was a multitude of broken bones, with his lungs having trouble drawing in breath. Groaning, he tried his best to crawl, fighting through the pain, his every being wanting to reach that boat. Blood was leaking out of his mouth, but he didn't care, for all that really mattered was accomplishing his goal. He had to keep trying, even if it meant death, he had to keep going.

"No...I'm so...close..."

The orc was going to beat him, he was going to take away the ship, and destroy his chance at gaining glory for House Uldwar. Sir Marshall was a Dog of War, he was the best of the best. To be beaten by this, it was an utter embarrassment. Bloody, twitchy hands clawed their way towards the life boat, unconsciousness threatening to swallow him up whole.

"Stay...awake...stay...awake!"

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Never before had Xavier felt the cruel satisfaction of watching a competitor suffer from an uncontrollable accident as much as he had now. Was this how the others felt when they brutally attempted to beat him into becoming the soldier their tribe needed? He had vowed never to be like them, not that he was ever averse to imposing his will upon others. This, however, just felt wrong. He noticed Sir Marshall’s body propel itself off of the saddle and fall hard on to the sandy beach near him just a few feet to his west. The sickening thud decorated by the sound of the metallic armor hitting rocks and crushing bone inspired an odd brand of sympathy from the orc but it was not enough to relinquish the sweet victory he could taste within his maw right now.

 

Black ichor dripped in larger intervals now as he felt his body recovering from the ghostly assault before but he was still only capable of crawling his way toward the boat. All of his limbs worked in concert, augmented by the promise of victory and the prospect of finally coming back with a sizable spoil from one of his trips that he hoped would impress Blob Boss. As soon as his finger touched the small boat, he felt that familiar chill again and saw the captain standing to his right, laughing maniacally.

 

“I see the most loyal of my crew dealt you a severe blow greenskin. Let me end your misery now and preserve the dignity of my ship.”

 

Panic sunk in and Xavier found himself grasping hard for the boat. The ghostly captain elevated the blade of his sword and then swung directly at Xavier’s head in a vertical arc. Adrenaline boosted the orc’s agility to such a degree that the blade only managed to knick Xavier’s cheek as he rolled to his west and closer to Sir Marshall. The proximity wouldn’t last as he suddenly found himself pushed up to a stand by the black ooze that saw it fit to prop him upward. Taking advantage of suddenly coming to a stand, Xavier reached for the captain’s blade, twisting enough to disarm his foe and yelled before thrusting the blade at his new obstacle.

 

"Your ship is mine ghost man!”

 

The blade imbued with whatever otherworldly essence the captain held struck true and caused the captain’s ghostly body to dissipate but not before he spoke his last few words.

 

“I hope the sea swallows you whole before ye ever lay true claim to her beauty”

 

Tossing the blade behind him, Xavier falls to a knee again and turns toward the boat. His peripheral vision still allows him to see Sir Marshall.

 

“I sorry Mr. Knight. You lose today but hope live tomorrow.”

 

Trudging his way on to the boat, he kicks himself out to the sea and slowly makes way to claim the ghost ship, laying supine on the boat as it floats toward the ship and occasionally finding strength to use his hand and the broken oar to lead him toward his prize. Blob Boss will be so very proud. He hoped Cedric and fairy girl would be blinded by the glory he will receive when he returns home.

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It was getting away, the ship was leaving, and his failure was becoming more apparent by the moment. Groaning in pain, the orc's words were lost in the wind, the darkness crashing all around him. This was it, he had lost, and now he was going to die on this beach, a complete disgrace to his order, to his fellow knights, to everyone.

Fate, however, was not yet done with him, for it was not death that was coming for him, but something far more savage.

Sir Marshall's body began to twitch, the bones mending back together while the cuts to flesh and organ knitted back to proper form. Fur started to grow, muscles became thicker, fangs protruded past the lips while his jaws stretched to unnatural limits. The human body was twisted, shaped into the form of a menacing, bloodthirsty beast that desires one thing, and one thing only. To feed.

A deep howl pierces the sky while the orc remains relatively safe in his boat. Tonight belonged to the werewolf, Gaia help anyone who stands in its way.

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The stars above Xavier in the sky as he layed in a supine position and floated his way toward the ghost ship mesmerized the orc as he took the time to think of a time where he could properly co-exist without the stigma that comes with being an orc. After the event he witnessed in Tormo and the involvement of his brainwashed brethren, Xavier felt discouraged that he would ever be able to visit places without suspicion aiming to suffocate any joy he could gather from learning about all of the technology and trades that he would have never had a chance to visit were it not for Nines’ insistence that he learn as much as he could about the social cues of this world and her decision to hire him for contract work. It was the arrival of Blob Boss, a creature he was so sure had suffered more than he ever had, that made him realize that he would never achieve what he wanted with the prejudice that was everywhere without acquiring the power he needed to do so. Sure there may have been some pockets within Terrenus and other lands that may be able to nurture his thirst to better himself without hate, but why should he remain confined when others are free to roam? Only with power could he ensure he had the freedom he wanted.

 

Xavier continued to paddle himself toward the boat until he heard the deep howl and immediately shot up into a sitting position. A confused look fell on his face as he saw Mr. Knight turn into Mr. Wolf Knight and couldn’t help but feel comforted with pushing himself into the sea when he had lest he had to deal with more hardship. Just to be sure though, he paddled himself over that much quicker, not realizing he had come dangerously close to the ship already. His boat crashed against the ship causing him to wobble and nearly throw himself overboard. A bulky hand managed to grip on to a rope dangling off the side of the rope and Xavier let out a sigh of relief, taking one last look at Sir Marshall.

 

“I wish you the best Mr. Wolf Knight.”

 

The volume of his voice likely left his words unheard anyway. Turning, he tugs on the rope hard to see if it would support his weight and when he considers it safe enough to use he begins his ascent. The agility he displays despite the rushing pain that surged through the arms that had been cut viciously by the ghosts earlier was a product of this portion of Obtenebra commencing to tailor itself to the strengths of Xavier. The suffering, however, was not nullified for it thrived on the pain that the orc felt and used it as the fuel to help him reach his goal. Xavier began to feel a connection with the ship as he ascended, almost as if he could will it into action with just a single command but first he needed to actually board it.

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He had finally ascended enough to pull himself aboard, rolling on to the ship with a fatigue that was mounting with every effort he exerted. Moments like this were when he wished this black substance that was gifted to him by Blob Boss could make him just as strong and resilient as when he had seen the amorphous being survive whatever happened at the Anima Imperium. He needed to work harder, train harder, and just be better with every passing day to reach such impressive levels of endurance and resilience. The attack from the ghosts earlier proved to him that he could achieve what he wanted and this success that he felt beneath him as he sat tiredly on this boat cemented those beliefs.

 

Xavier didn’t know much about sailing or how to manage a ship so he blankly stared at the mast of the ship while he seemed confused about the lack of a crew. All he wanted to do was leave this place now and return to tell the boss of his achievements and the agony he endured to contribute. The ship began to shift itself upright soon after that thought and the appearance of several ghostly apparitions assaulted the orc’s eyes. Gripping his fists, he prepared himself for another battle only to hear one of them yell out.

 

“Where to captain?”

 

Men were suddenly adjusting the sails and tying down cannons. Several eyes stared at Xavier expectantly and all the orc could do was blink at the sudden authority he felt he had been given. Struggling to speak, he gave out the order though his tone made it seem like a perplexed suggestion.

 

“Uh….toward Weland?”

 

“Aye Aye…”

 

That response was immediately followed up by the disappearance of every ghostly apparition Xavier had seen yet he suddenly began to feel the ship move.

Edited by Dolor Aeternum

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Blob Boss hadn’t asked him specifically to acquire this ship. In his typically enigmatic fashion, he simply stated “Return with a worthy contribution or suffer for your failure”. While the boss was rather direct when displeased and rather scary when angry, never once did he ever consider that his employer would ever do anything that he did not deserve. In Xavier’s mind, everything that his boss had done thus far was to either help others like him or help himself help others like him. This is why this moment right now, with the ship starting to move out into the vast sea, he finally had a chance to repay Blob Boss for giving him a sense of purpose that he felt was far better than whatever Dredge preached to the others.

 

There was a sense of belonging he had felt whenever he was near those affiliated with his boss’ organization. He could see it in the way his boss treated that puny fairy or the way Cedric was so focused on fulfilling his boss’ requests. Everyone was entrusted to contribute something and worked together to advance themselves. If only the orc tribes he knew of could consider adopting options that did not involve war spurred on by a blind belief that Dredge was their only answer to the pain inflicted upon them by some of the Terrans.

 

The wind was a welcome distraction to the tropical climate that did not let up during this mission and the smell of all the water around him was pleasant. Xavier sat to look at the horizon in the distance, the boat moving on its own. He noticed several birds fly right through the ship and then directly through him. Caught off guard, he snorts and places a fist on his chest. It took him a few moments to realize he was still ok.

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“Mother, see me now”

 

Newly made captain of his own ghost ship as well as a strong, stealthy warrior for an organization with a purpose he believed in. The spectral vessel would waste no time making its way over to Aligoria. It would take him some time to reach Weland but he needed to test if the healing from the wounds had fully finished. Poking the black ooze that rippled along his wounds curiously, he lets his ship float out at sea in spectral form and dives into the water of the Southern Sea.

 

Swimming his way over into the Day River sneakily, he finds himself on land without much effort. The wet orc looks at his hands and arms that had taken the brunt of the slashes from the ghosts before and notices Obtenebra worming its way through his veins. Shrugging, he starts his trek over to Weland, suppressing his confidence and joy with surprising discipline so as not to bring too much attention to himself. At least, not anymore than an orc of his size and mannerisms. Xavier did a good job of avoiding overly populated areas which was not hard given the rural section of Weland did not give him too many eyes to concern himself with.

 

He needed to deliver this news home and give the organization a much needed win after the failure caused by the scrawny doctor and the fang queen’s suitors.

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