Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

aaron22 wrote:

Khazrak wrote:"You wanna know the power of music?" quipped the bard, glaring at the contemptuous orc. "HERE is the power of music!" He slammed the lute into the orc's jaw with a loud 'snap.'

A look of disbelief pours over the bard's face as he take a few steps back. The blow did a few things and none of it the way the bard imagined before striking the huge orc. His lute is nothing more now then some loose wires binding together a couple shards of wood. The orc turns his head back around. The wound split his lip, but it is nothing compared to the wounds he endured in his rough childhood. The orc looks pleased as he slowly swings an oversized maul inches above the ground. The long handle of the maul held at half mast to keep from dragging on the ground. "I prefer drums." the orc speaks through clinched tusks. "Staggering backward Timos, known as the fist-fighting bard in many circles, reaches in his pack for a small bongo drum that he knew would be in there. But Timos was only feinting looking in his pack and swings hard into the face again of the orc. "Crack" sounds out in the alleyway. The bard connected easily and solidly against the unexpected orc brute and his head snaps back in a spray of blood. But the orc never lost a step of ground and slowly turns his head back to Timos. The orc take his left hand and wipes the blood from his nose and looks at the at his crimson fingers. A long dark tongue licks clean the blood from his hands in a single wipe. Again Timos takes a few steps back this time his fists are up and ready for a counter punch, but the orc merely looks back at the bard. In a swift motion the orc brings the hammer from the six o'clock position to the twelve o'clock position counter clockwise behind him with his lone right hand. At the apex of the swing the orc lets the momentum of the hammer's arc slide his hand to the perfect distance. At this point the left hand meets the right and the orc brings the hammer down upon the top of the head of the bard. Without the aid of a shield or weapon to defect the hammer's impact, the bard can only put up his hands to try and stop it. It is a futile attempt as all that happens is his arms get drawn into the vacuum of space that is being created by the hammer's force. Timos's head squashes like a pumpkin. His neck snaps and cracks. His ribs crumble and fold under the force of the blow and his legs buckle. The orc slides his weapon off of the thing that once was Timos. Now it looks like two legs with a mush of the other parts scrambled together on top. The orc hefts the big hammer back up to his muscular should and walks away and shrugs, "Close enough to drums."