Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-26178112-20160817220837/@comment-26383377-20160823222305

"Please.... Please! I-i have a family! Please don't do this! I-I surrender!"

The warrior was behing held by the throat, lifted off the ground by the man he was begging to.

"Anything.... a-anything... i'll do anything!" he was choking his words out at a desperate attempt to make him feel sympathy.

But Calthor the merciless was given that nickname for a reason.

Calthor brought his halberd up and pierced the warrior's belly, he shoved it to the point that the blade rose out of his other side, going completely through him. The warrior screamed in agony, coughing up blood. Some of which had actually landed on Calthor's cheek. He yanked the halberd out of the warrior's gut, before tossing him aside to painfully bleed out and die.

He turned around and continued in his path towards the Chieftan's tent, watching as his black Inquisitorial Knights cut down the rest of the tribesmen. Even those who wouldn't fight back. He grabbed a burning piece of wood from the village bonfire, lobbing it at a nearby hut. setting it ablaze, along with the tribesmen inside. Those who escaped the burning hut were met by the Knights' blades, cut down along with the rest.

Calthor wiped the blood from his cheek, and couldn't help but smile. He took a whifff, the smell of the flames, the bloodcurdling screams, the countless bodies. He loved it, and he wanted more. He entered the Chieftan's tent, peering inside. Only to find it completely empty. Coward he thought, turning around to exit the tent. Only to find the chieftain, he was large, and had a terrifyingly strong body. He stepped up to Calthor, looking down at him. And then... He fell.

The chieftain fell to his knees, looking up at the man...no, the thing that had slaughtered his people. "Please, spare them. I beg of you." He bent down and placed his head at Calthor's feet.

Calthor could hear the chieftain's muffled sobs, and felt disgusted. He came here looking for a fight, only to find their chieftain as a coward. After all, he was the best of them. The best of a village of cowards.

The chieftain sat up, his face streaked with tears. "They have done nothing against you... there is no need for this...please.

Calthor clenched his halberd, he roared. Kicking the chieftain on the chest, sendin him out of the tent, tumbling down to the center bonfire.

"You beg? You beg!?" Arthus stomped out of the tent, furious. "I come here to battle, to face a true enemy. And I am faced with a village of cowards!" He reaches the chieftain, who was still lying on the floor, coughing. "Please..."

"You beg!?" Arthus kicked the chieftain, over and over again, his steel greaves crashing against his back and chest. The sound of bone crunching as he hammered at him with his leg. Once Calthor stopped, The chieftain was left as a sobbing, whimpering mess. He dropped his halberd, and lifted the chieftain.

"No, no! please!"

Calthor tossed the chieftain into the fire. The chieftain screamed and spasmed, getting up and eratically threw his arms about in an agonizing, painful response. His flesh was melting from his bone, and eventually, he fell over again. succumbing to the flames.

"Good riddance." Calthor muttered picked up his halberd, He made his way to one of his lieutenants, who was still riding atop his mount.

"How many more are left? Any runners?" He asked, Planting his Halberd's blunt end on the floor. The leutenant could see the blood on its blade.