Aroha Marathi

It Wasn't Supposed To Be This Way

The Orc's body hit the wall with a sickening crunch, the metal plates on it clanging as it made contact with the hard stone. Her short form slid to the ground, crumpling like a discarded pamphlet that the Temple Acolytes always passed out during one of their boisterous sermons. The steel surrounding her body did nothing to help her currently, the weight of it feeling as though it had grown several hundred pounds, crushing her lungs within her rib cage as she fought for air, chest heaving painfully with each breath.

The beast before her roared in triumph, it's awkwardly stubby maw dripping crimson tinted saliva at a rate akin to the most vacuous waterfall, nostrils flaring as it inhaled the iron tinged scent of the dark skinned woman's life force. Blood was sleeping from many locations, some through the large gashes that cut through the chainmail located over her abdomen, others from her short nose and tusked mouth, her once cream colored teeth stained an unnatural pink because of it.

This wasn't how the fight was supposed to go.
She had been caught extremely off guard, the cave heading almost directly into a sheer drop, she got separated from Mithra when the ledge they were skirting to get down to the bottom, gave way. Luckily the fall didn't do much to harm the Orc, but the newly awakened inhabitant did.

At first it was a man, scrawny, wearing dingy clothing. Aroha had looked at him so strangely, questioning why he was there, if he needed help.

But this wasn't just any man, as she was soon to find out. It was a werebear, and being on Solsthiem, she probably should have expected this encounter at some point.

She'd made a mental note to beat herself up for that later.

The monster approached, its permanently exposed teeth glistening in what little sunlight peeked through the cracks in the cave's ceiling. Its maw looked mangled from this angle, just rows and rows of elongated and hideously jagged fangs. Not even actual bears looked this way, and it's eyes were bloodshot, wide and wild as it stared down at her broken form.

Rising onto one elbow, the silver disk of a pendant she wore around her neck tumbled out from a crease in the scarf tucked just below her steel armor, the light shining off it causing the beast's glowing eyes to flicker down to it.

Its nose was within a close enough distance, she could feel it's stinking breath upon her scarred cheeks. Her closest weapon was nearly six feet away, having landed there when it was knocked out of her hands.

She had to do something.

Using this minor distraction, Aroha swung an ironclad fist at the abomination, striking it in the side of the head as hard as she could, hoping that it would stun the creature even a tiny bit.

Give her some room to make a better choice.

It was no such luck.
Instead the werebear roared, flecks of saliva landing on her green skin, before slamming its massive paw down against her chest plate, bending it inward. Dark spots danced in her vision, the room becoming distorted as the wind was forcibly knocked out of her body.

In her daze she did not notice a bright spark of light zip across the cavern, striking the werebear in the face, and causing it to stumble backwards a few feet, screeching and flailing.
She did not hear the crackling of lightning, or feel the subsequent nearby chill of an icy blast hitting the offending beast.

The only thing the Orc could feel, was the warmth beginning to spread under the indented metal, and when she tried to draw breath, a sharp pain shot through her torso; preventing any air from entering her lungs.
She scrabbled at the leather straps on the sides of her armor, trying to release the silver clasps that held the defensive gear in place. Her heart was pounding in her head so hard it was beginning to hurt, blacking out her vision even more, stubby fingers failing in their efforts to free her from the protection turned deadly prison.

Her eyesight faded as a figure ran towards her, arms extended, reaching for her limp body as her head slumped to the side.