Straxesma

Chapter 1

*thwak*.

...

..

.

A clashing of steel against steel.

.

..

...

"NOOO....HE....Help"bone-shattering echoes through the rainy night.

...

..

.

*A green hand wrapping calloused fingers around the throat of a human knight and crushing his windpipe like wet clay in the palm of a sculptor.*

.

..

...

The poor soldiers had stumbled across something terrible, mere human mercenaries pitted against a beast bred for war and born for bloodshed, brought from the womb to bathe in the carnage. They faced an orc, four to one, poor odds in their favor and it was showing as one of their scouting divisions lay dead on the ground and the two remaining wore bruises and open wounds across their bodies wherever their armor had been torn away by the raw power of this monster's strikes.

Preparing to end their very lives and cut the chords of their continued existence was the daughter of a grand chieftain with the given name of Fokmir. Her tall nearly eight-foot-tall frame already gave off an intimidating impression, but when faced with her horrific mace, Herald, and her maul, Harbinger. She wore no armor, freely letting her green skin be seen as a sort of intimidation method that served its purpose rather well.

The four men who remained were all deciding whether to fight or flee, one man chose to flee... and he chose right, because in that same instant she was upon them, a single swing of her mace removing a man's head from his body with a brutal snapping sound as his spine disconnected from his skull and flew forty feet until it hit a tree and fell to the ground. His twenty-three-day chase coming to a close.

With that, the surviving and still present pair were sent into a panic in a desperate attempt to flee only for one to have his ribcage forcibly collapsed by the blunt end of Fokmir's maul and the second would find her mace flying into his back and snapping his spine as he tried to flee. She finished off the victim closest to her with a snapping of his neck before she moved on to the second, picking up her mace and lifting her booted foot, a smirk crossing her face as she brought it down upon his throat, his life ending with a gurgling wet sound.

She then looked toward the one who had gone to flee, but who had fallen in the mud, the slippery substance making it near impossible to get good traction or a firm standing if you weren't heavy enough "You." Fokmir raised a finger at him, pointing with a wickedly awful smirk on her face "You will go and tell my father and his other pets that I will not be coming back, there will be no wedding and his connection to the Ignis will not come to be. Any more he sends after me will face my steel and they will not receive the mercy that I give you now." with that, the orc turned and began walking away, listening as the large burly grown man burst into tears, the terror gripping him finally too much to bare...

It brought a smirk to her face and stoked the pride within her heart, though she didn't say another word, only moving onward through the mudland toward her goal, knowing she'd not be safe so long as she dwelled within the Straxesma. Her father, the powerful chieftain would keep coming until he got to her and brought her home where she'd be used as a chip so that their family could be married into the far more powerful and rich Ignis tribe. She wouldn't allow that, the man she was to be given to was weak, there was no warrior's blood in his body, not a drop, she would not sully herself to wed or even worse, bare the child of such a coward, no, she'd be far too tempted to remove his throat to even think of acting as his wife.