Welcome to Gaia! ::

Fortunately for him he had proof of his registration with the guild. It was difficult for people that looked like him to convince others he was here to help, let alone the one they technically hired. Despite his accent and broken common speech, they begrudgingly accepted his presence in their village limits without protest. Lito gathered what little intelligence was offered without prying on the trauma victims of the village. He warned them of the likelihood of recovering lives were, and the quality of life one might hold after enduring being captured by a den of goblins.

Regardless, he gave his word that he'd return as many of the missing persons and livestock as possible. He knew the livestock was long dead, though there was a chance the goblins held onto their more human captives if only to pleasure themselves until they hungered enough to devour them as well. Goblins were nasty creatures, the type of ones which he'd rarely encountered directly. Though he was sure they couldn't be more difficult to deal with than an orc or an ogre. As the day waned towards nightfall, he had two options.

Seek the hive directly before they came out for the night to scavenge and hunt or wait for them to return to town knowing well that they'd travel together. The latter plan sounded better, in which case he commanded the villagers to barricade themselves in for safety until given the all clear. In the meantime, Lito remained out and about wandering the streets. He made note of the lay of the village, ensuring he picked out the areas he saw as great vantage points as well as those he saw as most vulnerable.

Suddenly, the cattle became restless. The telltale signs that trouble was finally afoot. ‘Go time,’ he thought, plucking the l from his lips and using a single finger to flick the cherry from its end before tucking the remaining half of it into his duster pocket. Concomitantly, his feet carried him casually in the direction of cattle in commotion. It wasn’t that he lacked a sense of urgency, though his plan relied on the goblins being spotted and actively tracked.

He arrived on the scene as cattle fled in his direction, avoiding trampling through the village as they herded round the field they were fenced in. Though there was one that remained, a calf, shrieking and crying in fear and pain as it was torn asunder. There was nothing he could do to spare the calf, for there were at least a dozen goblins twixt it and himself; chasing the fleeing cattle. Pulling his custom morning star from his utility belt, he grasped it firmly in his right hand. Simultaneously, his left-hand reaches into his duster and around his backside.

“Y’chose a good night, but th’wrong mu’fukka!” he exclaimed as his bloodshot, half lidded eyes widened with anticipation. When his left hand returned to view, it was seen gripping his sonic pulse pistol. When the first goblin saw him, it wailed in a way that even he was certain it was snitching on him; alerting the others to his presence. Lito blitzed the alerting goblin nearest him and swung his Morningstar in an upward strike, colliding with the goblin’s chin first. The strike smeared the goblin’s face, claiming its lower jaw and sending it skyward as the rest of the goblin’s fresh corpse tumbled lazily into the ground.

He stomped the convulsing goblin’s dome in, popping it against the ground like a grape as another armed with a crossbow shot an arrow into his flank. He recoiled, hissing in pain as one claimed his back. It hooked an arm beneath his chin as its free hand repeatedly bludgeoned his head with its club. Blood stained his red hair, leaking from his scalp and down his face as he fell forward into the ground. He relinquished his grasp on his sonic pulse pistol, using his now free hand to grapple the critter with its neck.

With strength that betrayed his ectomorphic build, he plucked the goblin from his back and slammed it into the ground. As another assailed him with a spear, Lito rolled onto his back using the grappled goblin as a shield. One goblin skewered another, the spear-wielding goblin finding its legs swept from beneath it by the meta. Tossing the former shield aside, he brought his mace head down on the prone goblin’s skull. ‘Need to collect the cores as proof,’ he chided himself mentally.

He was reminded of the arrow in his back when he rolled onto it, thankfully his supernatural musculature proved more than enough to snap the haft off near the edge of the penetrating arrowhead. The only part he appreciated was the fact that leaving it in meant bleeding less. Spotting his sonic pulse pistol again, he somersaults towards it and snatches it from the ground in the process. Landing on one knee, he aimed at the next nearest goblin (wielding a katana) and flipped the switch on the pistol to change its firing mode. This time when he depressed the trigger, the pistol emitted a cone of sonic pulse waves that persisted for a few seconds as he swept the air around him.

He stomped the goblin he kicked in the head, finishing it without remorse. The short sword wielding goblin slashed at him, in which he met the blade with a strike of his own using his Morningstar. The mundane sword broke against his cruel weapon and daunting strength. The goblin continued by charging into him and hugging at the waist as it gnawed on his leather duster in vain. He pistol-whips it as he spun to face the one wielding the club and took aim, blasting it before stomping the head of the one he’d pistol whipped.

He went through and thirsted the ones that were only knocked out with one of his knives once he replaced his other weapons on his utility belt. Smearing the blood off with the filthy skin of the last one, he stood and sheathed his knife on his belt. ‘I’m getting too old for this s**t,’ he thought as he fished the half-smoked l from his pocket and relit it with a reassuring drag. He exhaled in a sigh, his breath exacerbating the plume of smoke in the cool, moist, autumn air.

“Leave th’bodies, ‘less y’wanna harvest th’cores fo’me!” he exclaimed to the villagers that could hear him as he started ventured after the pair of them that had run for the tree line. Given how recently they approached and fled, their trails were nice and fresh. Following them was as easy as tracking wild game. Though in this case he was dealing with mildly sentient creatures capable pf communicating and planning with one another. As pesky as they were, he couldn’t help but laugh at himself. In his prime this would have been a cake walk, not that he felt like he was struggling by any means.

Lito coughed profusely, forcing himself back up to his feet as he groped around for a wall. While he didn’t find one, he did notice a tunnel ahead with a faint flow to its far end. Cautiously, he crept towards the light as he patted his chest and tried to regulate his breathing. He continued forth as the tunnel turned and the light gradually grew. His eyes dilated as he progressed, the end of the tunnel revealing an expanse cavern complete with a bonfire amid it.

Dozens of goblins could be seen, the remains of humans, elves, and livestock seen scattered around. Some humanoid bodies were bound and or staked, in which if they were alive, they were incapacitated. Crouched, he lingered where he was and got to work removing his cestus and instead unsheathing his BLAST knuckles. “Give me strength brother,” he muttered as he equipped the imbued brass knuckles one at a time.

By the time he was prepared, he could see the lot of them finishing their own preparations to come assisting with raiding the local village. Though as they approached the tunnel, the two that got away began to panic, alerting the others to the sight of the man from the surface. Lito rose to stand erect once more with a s**t eating grin smeared across his lips. It didn’t take long before the dozens of them in view were all taking part in shrieking their disdain at him.

“Knock, knock.” he said.

‘s**t’s gettin’ annoying!’ he thought as he held an arm in front of his face defensively. He faced the direction most of the rocks assailed from as he inhaled deeply. Throwing his arm from his face, he exhaled hurricane force winds that returned the rocks midair with additional force than which they’d been thrown with. Likewise, some of the goblinoids found themselves thrown haphazardly by the forces; into each other, into walls. One even flung back into the bonfire and screamed in agony as the acrid smell of its burning flesh stained the damp, stale air.

He was struck again from behind, a spear thrusting into his right flank causing him to shout in sudden agony before gritting his teeth and grunted through the pain. He forced himself against the spear, allowing its head to penetrate his torso from the inside before reaching striking range to backfist the goblin wielding it. With both hands he pulled the rest of the spear through the wound while shouting in pain. When he saw the next goblin charging him, he threw the spear into it, pinning it to the cave floor as he coughed. Blood spurted from his lips, in which he sloppily wiped his from with his duster sleeve.

Another rock struck him on the side of the head, causing his head to lean with the blow; neck craned in protest. When his head snapped back, his gaze found the culprit. He charged it directly as it threw another rock. The rock smashed into the meta’s face, breaking against it and splitting his skin. Though he did not blink nor faulter in his advance!

The goblins cried their admiration, frenzying with newfound vigor despite the metahuman’s disturbance. The hobgoblin raised his longsword, aiming its tip at the taunting metahuman in their midst. “Show no mercy,” the hobgoblin chided his larger kindred as they entered the fray. The orc was quicker in its approach, though the ogre was would likely give him the greatest run for his money given the sheer size difference. Simultaneously, the goblins charged the meta intending to overwhelm him with sheer force at this point.

Lito delivered a backhand fist to a passing goblin as he side-stepped it, causing it to trip another. As he delivered a left hook to one, another stabbed him on his exposed side with a spear. He cursed, bringing his elbow down and snapping the haft of the spear before his fist opened and struck at the goblin’s throat like a pit viper. His vice grip strangling the creature gradually as he hoisted it about as a shield. Remaining in motion, he goaded the goblins into giving chase as a means of getting them all closer.

The Russian meta held the goblin out to his side, sharply inhaling in a way that opposed his prior use of super breath. This time he drew his targets against their natural pacing, flinching the lot of them in the process! A split second later, a scintillation grew in the reaches of his throat, growing to birth a gout of flames in the shape of a five-foot wide, horizontal pillar. Canting from left to right as he exhaled allowed him to cover a couple dozen. Some died outright, others remaining aflame as they screamed and rolled about in agony.