Shadow Slayers

Odessa cracked a huge smile. "Do you stumble in battle like you do with your words?" she affronted, taking the sword. She took her time waiting for the reply to get used to the sword's grip.

Murky blood sprayed into the air accompanied by the fanfare of a sickening crunch as yet another skull was smashed to pieces. Chunks of brain fell like candies and confetti in what would surely have been the worst parade ever. Arloth batted the lifeless corpse aside, making way for another sweeping attack with his mace just in time to intercept another charging fearen. This one resembled some type of grotesque dog, but it would look more like roadkill after the ball of Arloth's mace wrecked its abdomen. Another cacophony of dreadful snaps rang out as the blow broke half of the beast's ribs at once, and the sound was quickly followed up by the rolling hum of the fresh carcass tumbling across the ground and landing against a building.

The corpse would join a legion of almost a dozen slaughtered fearen that Arloth had strewn creatively around the square of the abandoned village. It might have seemed impressive to see one man stand up to so many of the horrors, but in reality the dog-like dregs that he currently fought were hardly a challenge to anyone. They were some of the lowliest forms of fearen that prowled only in long-forgotten places where there were no more worthy lives left to conquer, and their mere presence suggested that there was nothing of value in this place.

Arloth had different priorities from most survivors, though, and sought especially the places like this one which others had long since given up on looting. It wasn't the food nor water nor shelter that Arloth looked for, but usually random trinkets or small odds and ends that had some unimaginable use to him. Whether or not he would find those things here remained to be seen, for the towering brute would have to finish off the local fearen before he could get the chance to search around.

And so he swung his massive ball again, beating back yet another fearen and subsequently letting loose yet another firework of blood and gore. This dreadful fight of his was somewhat near to the goings on of the strange crowd in a church. In fact, the very village in which Alroth stood was the same that bore the church in which the so-called 'Shadow Slayers' would be recruiting. Alroth had no knowledge of such things, but was merely here by coincidence. He was within sight of the church, but stood far too busy with the fearen just then to get a good look at the place and notice anyone that was entering or exiting the building.

Oxy stopped mid-step and sniffed the air, causing Celty to also come to a halt. She looked back at her son curiously.

"Oxy, what is it?"

The halfling's ears pricked up, but he looked down at the ground and shuffled his feet, clutching the enchanted cloak that disguised his true features. "Nothing, ma."

Celty furrowed her brow and turned towards the direction Oxy had been sniffing. On the breeze, she caught the slightest whiff of fearen blood and her ears bent back as she snarled. Oxy let go of his mother's hand, startled.

"Ma? What is it?"

Celty shook off the rage, reminding herself of what she was silently. She was not a fearen anymore. She had to stop these instincts to rush to their defense. But what truly worried her was the other scent she had picked up. The scent of a man who had once wiped out half of her adopted fearen family. Oxy tugged on her hand again and she sighed, scooping him up quickly into her arms. She smiled at him as he let out a surprised gasp and hugged her arm. "Let's go, Oxy. I see a church up ahead. We should hide there until this battle is over."

She bent her legs and began to swiftly move towards the building in the distance, unaware of the gathering taking place.

Name: Urzul
Personality: Fairly blunt and rather unintelligent and loud
Fighting Abilities: Good with club weapons, large but a slow hitter. The extent of her abilities with fighting seems to be "There is an enemy, I will smash it with my club." She is not good at strategies; making them, following them, or recognizing others strategies in battle making it easy to overcome her brute strength.
Past (optional): Growing up in a secluded orc settlement Urzul has little prior experience or knowledge of humans, aside what she was told of the world before she was born and the acts of King Tairaga. Recently forced to become a wanderer, after her home was destroyed by fearen, Urzul seeks revenge on the deplorable creatures.
Physical appearance: (bad mix of trying, not trying, and me being bad at practical clothing oops)

((i might try to find a good time to come in sometime later but right now im doing other things and dont know how i would even do that yet so just heres this cause i dont know big, stupid character i felt like doing it))

Kama answered "If you don't need the swords then I'll take them back. I need the damn things to fight in case a fearen comes in. You don't need the swords either right Odessa? You're a magician." Kama took his swords out of Fallen and Odessa's hands. He told them
"I wanna see you use your real weapons. I need to see what you guys are capable of so use whatever attacks you'd use on the fearens."
While he was at it he went ahead and took the sword Mimisko held as well because he knew she wasn't a swordsman either as he explained "You too Mimisko. Use your magic. I don't want you hiding your abilities."

"These people could be goblin hunters for all I know" Gremlon mumbled to himself...
"Ugh... I shouldn't have said that out loud."
"Ugh I should really stop talking. I hope nobody heard me" but it didn't seem like anyone could hear him.
Gremlon peaked over again and somebody was heading in his direction, so he swiftly jerked his head back.
"Maybe they won't notice me..."

Gremlon also saw the fearen bloodbath in the distance.

"Wow okay, I wonder how I didn't notice that before..."
"UGH-"

Name:
Altheron (25)
Personality:
Reserved, stays in the back mainly to observe. Will often make creepy, almost "out-of-the-blue" expressions from time to time. Has no grasp of what "personal space is". Takes strange interest in strong women. Is unable to read anything but his book of spells, which is in a whispering language taught to him by his spirit companions.
Fighting Abilities: Altheron is a shaman, meaning most of his fighting abilities stem from his relationship with the spiritual world. At times, he'd use his book of summoning spells and his staff to bring some of his spirit familiars to help aid him in battle. Altheron is also part-Diviner, as the eye concealed underneath his hair possesses unusual "fortune-telling" abilities that allow him to see possible outcomes in life, but not actually predict the future. This doesn't work in his favor at times, for if he questions the outcome of a certain situation that results in a list of outcomes totaling over 100 (because he's a percentage man) or even infinity, his mind becomes overloaded with information, leaving him incapacitated for as long as until he can clear his mind of the initial question. He also has a few healing spells somewhere in that book of his, but they are very weak, and sometimes ineffective.
Past:
Altheron found himself in the Spirit Realm. It wasn't until his "friends" informed him about the problem facing his world that he sought to help bring peace to the land through whatever means his eye would allow him to see.
Physical appearance:

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Walking past the bloody massacre that seemed to have the strangers in front of some old human... structure.... (?) planted in the ground they stood on, Altheron made his way toward the large, maybe even sacred, edifice before him. He didn't know what it was; his friends only occasionally brought him here to get a sense of how both worlds work, but never really went into depth about it. He walked into this mess practically clueless, but he felt a slight sense of eagerness to know more.