___Lumen___
the ork is clearly shitting himself, struggling to get his tender neck region away from the sharp irritation of your fineblade
F..F...FUCK OFF! I don't know shit about them. I'm just a fucking middleman alright. I get a call, and do a job. You know how it is?!
___Scawire___
Knives has got the guy on the rails, he's cornered and doesn't have anywhere to go. Knives' blade is digging in heavily into the orks throat. thin trails of blood dribble down the blade and off onto the ork's trousers.
As you follow the blood trails lazily with your eyes, something seems odd about the ork's positioning.
Perception test please, don't forget wound mods
___Syberix___
Good job, nice hit.
Unearthly howls went up all around you, streaming off into the distance, the odd frequency and pitch of the howl piercing through the roar of the engines.
The Main street you hurtled down wasn't that long, but the intermittent high sided buildings reflected the engine noise beautifully back at you. A quick glance over each shoulder showed you that three other riders had kept up, two of them acknowledging you with a nod, the third readying a club from a holster on the fuel tank.
The main street came to an end at a T junction. Seeing the dispersing cloud of raven from the treeline several hundred metres away amid the roar of engines, Deet swings a left at speed before hitting a right at the next junction.
A huge and decaying intersection ahead of you showed you'd rejoined back onto the main carriageway into the dead zone.
Deet opened the throttle and gunned it down would would have been the old off ramp into the residential area you came from. Crumbling plascrete hemmed you in on both sides, weeds and tall grasses whipping at your ankles as they fought their way through the old road surface.
The off ramp became the carriageway and suddenly, your engine notes were not alone.
Suprise tests please!