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{Cue: Thomas Bergensen Music} CRUNCH! The sound of bones snapping beneath his mace gave Nasr a sense of grim satisfaction bordering upon delight. The sniveling Ulandan's arm seemed to snap downward as Nasr's mace hit it's shoulder and it opened it's mouth to cry out in pain only to have it's head smashed in from the side as Nasr brought his mace back in an underhand blow, sending the Ulandan flying several yards before he hit the ground with a delightful snapping sound that could only be it's spine. That's what it was anyway, an It. These Ulandan scum, traitorous backstabbers that they were, should not be addressed as human beings. Their place was in Sheol. And that was why Nasr was here, to kill the lot of them and send the cowardly “High Council” soldiers whining back to their crumbling cities of sand, in the name of the Desert King. There was a shout from his right and Nasr turned to see a Barqaian knight charging toward him. A smirk spread over his masked face and he raised his mace, swinging a diagonal blow, the hardest to dodge, at the man's torso. The man surprised him by leaping back nimbly, just out of reach of Nasr's mace, and then leaping back in again, landing a thrust right under Nasr's arm-guards. Not a fatal wound, but painful none-the-less. Nasr swung at the man again, forcing him to leap back out of range, and giving Nasr a slight rest-bit. Nasr studied the man just as he knew the man was studying. Clearly he was a prize fighter, and a good swordsman. But it was his athletic ability that worried Nasr the most. Nasr's own armor would only hinder him in a fight like this, so apparently the only way to defeat him was to somehow catch him off guard, get him within range and keeping him there the seconds it would require for Nasr to swing his mace in the fatal stroke. Nasr lowered his shield slightly, as if weary from battle. In reality his muscles were taught, in preparation for the move the knight was bound to take. He took it. Leaping forward, the knight sliced at Nasr's exposed neck. Nasr sidestepped ever so slightly and brought his shield up just enough to deflect the knight's sword toward the ground, throwing him off balance. Nasr's mace was already in motion. The knight saw his mistake immediately and also saw that it was too late. Unable to change his position fast enough, the knight raised his sword and sliced toward Nasr's exposed neck, trying to bring his enemy down with him. Nasr merely changed the direction of his blow to compensate for the blow. The blow struck. The knights armor snapped and cracked beneath Nasr's mace like so many nut-shells, and Nasr felt more then heard the knights bones crack beneath his armor. Without so much as a death cry the knight fell. He was dead before he even hit the ground. Nasr roared out his wordless battle-cry of victory, raising his bloodied mace above his head. Around him knights and foot-soldiers alike quailed, their faces white as they saw his huge black form over the bloodstained form of their hero. A blood-red film started to cover Nasr's vision as the blood-lust began to take hold of him. This was the day the Desert King would win the Erexhi! And he would be a leading force behind the conquest! Suddenly Nasr felt an bolt of pain from his left leg which, without warning, gave way beneath him. There was an echoing thud as he hit the ground. The red film before his eyes turned to red mists of pain as his leg twisted beneath him. He let out a howl that fairly shook the ground around him and shook leaves off of the tree above him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a Barqaian archer hastily retreating from where she had shot from, a smug expression spread across her face. Anger rippled through Nasr and he angrily ripped the barbed shaft from his leg. Immediately a pool of blood started to form underneath him. As he stared at it Nasr's brain started to clear, partly do to the pain. If he didn't get this bound soon then he would most assuredly bleed to death ad then what use would he be to the Desert King? But on the other hand, who would respect him if he returned wounded defeated? By a crossbow-man no less! A new shot of pain came from his leg and instinct immediately took effect in Nasr's brain, subjugating all of his honor to it's will. Nasr rose to his feet and started a limping run toward the boundary-lines, ignoring all other warriors, even as they parted before him like the sea before the prow of a ship. Even as he ran he could see the outcome of the battle. The Council's men had taken advantage of the momentary distraction and were pushing back the disheartened Desert King soldiers and the few Ulandans left on the field. The battle had been lost to the High Council. The build. I tried to make it look barren, like rock formed of molten lava, and a layer of sand over that. The rockwork is a variation of the type you saw in my Character Intro, along with the tree. Strangely, this is my first attempt at this style of base, and I think it turned out pretty well! As for it's elliptic shape... let's just say I consolidated all of the limited overhang on two ends. Would this qualify for desert landscaping in UoP points? If so, I'll apply for that... Soli Deo Gloria & Sola Gracia! Snap. Forgot to add the H9 to my title.
