Starlight Necromancer

Foster looked up at the Orc standing in front of him. The towering figure slowly leaned forward, scratching the stubble on its chin, "Why wear that mask? It mean you want dead?" He asked, in an extremely strong accent. Although, it was an accent that he really couldn't recognize.

'Right... I have no idea what sorta languages there are in this world...' Foster thought to himself. He basically cheated, and learned how to speak the language of this country without even needing to try, just because Thiodrus was kind enough to teach it to him through magic. The only downside to it was that Foster apparently had a sort of 'old' way of speaking. The way he pronounced certain words and his word choice in particular were things from Thiodrus' time, things that Foster inherited with his understanding of the language. It was as if he was speaking in english from a few centuries ago.

But well, it wasn't like this really mattered right now anyway, it just stuck out for a moment. Ignoring it for now, Foster locked eyes with the Orc through his mask, "Well, I don't really have any plans of dying today, sorry."

"Too bad. I make you dead." With a broad grin on his face, the Orc swung his fist forward. At a glance, it seemed weirdly similar to the way that the kid from earlier was trying to swing at him... but obviously much more refined. As if that kid was just trying to imitate this Orc while filling in some gaps. If Foster was right, then that kid wasn't a human either, since he had some tusks similar to that of an Orc. Well, otherwise he looked like a human though, so Foster had no idea.

For now, it really didn't matter, though. Foster ducked down and dodged the heavy but fast attack, proceeding to slide his feet over the ground and hitting the Orc's torso. It felt like he was hitting a slab of rock, though, despite the fact that the Orc's chest was completely exposed.

'Guess I'll have to use that after all...' Foster thought, as he moved out of the way of the grapple that the Orc was attempting. Against an opponent like this, whose fighting style clearly based in speed, using the Argomna style might be a bad idea. Foster's attacks were slow that way, after all. And in the first place... against people like this, using some regular street fighting might be better anyway.

And so, as he moved out of the way, Foster relaxed his body, letting himself naturally exit his basic stance. As the Orc was recovering his own stance, clearly being an experienced fighter to an extent, Foster reached out his hand, grabbing onto one of the Orc's tusks. Foster kicked his opponents knee, putting all his weight into it. As he was letting himself drop down at the same time, he also pulled on the Orc's tusk, making him naturally fall forward. Or at least, that's what Foster had thought would happen, but with sheer physical strength, he managed to hold himself up, with Foster just pressing onto the Orc's knee, forcing his leg to be straight, while hanging onto the tusk.

"Erm... shit?" Foster let out nervously, before seeing the Orc's fist fly toward him at high speed. Thinking that this might be a good chance, the moment that the fist hit Foster's stomach, he simply let go of everything, pulling himself toward the Orc's huge fist and grappled onto it, something that pulled the big guy forward even more.

And then, Foster just let go of everything again once he was in a position where he could quickly set his feet onto the ground. The Orc, not expecting Foster to randomly let go like that, overcompensated as he pulled back, in multiple ways.

Not only did the Orc throw his head backward, but he also angled his knee too much as he tried to force it out of the straight position, and at the same time pulled his arm back to try and force Foster off.

But then, Foster himself quickly rushed over toward the Orc, hooking his foot behind the Orc's calf to pull his foot away, causing him to fall over backward.

While he was trying to swing his arms around to stop his fall, Foster moved in the way. The Orc, who was now looking at the ceiling while falling backward, soon had a fist shoved into his face, followed by the explosive impact of a 'single strike' echoing out. Now, he had no way of stopping the fall backward, and was rather forced to impact with the ground even more. But this wasn't where Foster stopped.

The moment that the Orc was laying on the ground, Foster climbed on top of his chest, pressing his face in place with his knees and pressing his feet into his armpits, as he truly started his assault. Again and again, Foster hit the Orc's face, using 'single strike' for tougher places like the Orc's forehead.

Although the Orc tried to defend himself, trying to pull Foster away from him, he simply kept on going, until his opponent gave up.

Energetically, his clothes, fists, and mask covered in blood, he stood up, looking at the people standing in front of him. It was clear that this Orc, Kir, was the strongest fighter amongst all of them, but he had been taken down so quickly.

"So? Ready to give in?" Foster asked, his head just so slightly tilted to the side, but the people in front of him, while cowering in confusion, didn't respond. And so, Foster turned around, and grabbed the Arm of the Orc, "Hm, I get it, you guys don't think I'm serious yet." He sighed, "Seriously, you'll have to apologize to your buddy here later. This is only happening because you guys just aren't giving up."

Foster placed his foot onto the Orc's shoulder to keep it down, while grabbing his arm by the wrist, pulling it up as straight as possible.

"Wh-What is it you want from us?" The Hogmir yelled out, and Foster grinned, although it was clearly hidden by the mask, "Well, first of all, I want you guys to apologize, and give back all the thing you stole from Zhaine's shop earlier."

The Hogmir glared back at him, "You're here for that? Because we nicked a few things from a rundown old shop?!"

"Rundown or not, that shop is under my protection. And you guys fucked with it. So, I have to teach you a lesson. Now, I'll give you one more chance to give it all back, before I give you a real reason. So, will you cooperate?"

"And... what if we don't?" The Elf asked with a deep stare, as Foster, in a devilish voice, replied, "Wrong answer." He said, as he hit the Orc's forearm. Instead of using 'single strike', though, he used his new 'Bone Breaker' martial skill. He could practically imagine it, his hand being a huge wrench that shattered apart anything it hit. And when he managed to hear a loud crack that echoed out through the warehouse, he knew that it worked.

The human in the group took a step forward, ready to pull his sword on Foster, "Fucking bastard, you-"

"Stop." The Hogmir interrupted, "Let's... Let's just talk, alright? You don't need to keep doing this. We'll give you back everything... Just please, go." He said, and Foster locked eyes with him, as he let go of the squirming Orc's arm. He slowly approached him, looking deep into this humanoid Boar's eyes.

"Alright then. Hand it over." Foster said in a commanding tone, "And in addition to all this... I want to have a bit of a conversation with you."