Post by Tormir on Jul 16, 2008 10:50:41 GMT -5
Tormir watched as the sun dipped at last below the trees. This night, he would earn his name among the wolves. There was a large encampment of enemies not far away and among them were several trollocs and even some Mydraal. The thought of them sent bile into his throat. A pack of wolves would loose half its members if meant bringing down one of the Neverborn. Wolves found that they had little trouble killing Twisted ones, but Neverborn, the Mydraal proved a little more of a challenge. His yellow eyes glinted with the rays of the dying sun. He opened his mind and searched for the pack. He called to them and they answered him. It was time to kill. He brought forth his hammer and began to move with a stealth that belied his size. He had to strike and quickly, for this was his naming night. The wolves had surrounded the encampment and were slowly stalking forward. He charged. He hit the trolloc on his right with a blow so swift and strong that its face crunched and it died before it could even gurgle. He dropped low and slammed his hammer into the stomach of the trolloc on his left. It wasn't a heavy blow, but the momentum was enough to wind the creature and double it over. He twirled the hammer high and brought it down on the beasts head, smashing the life from it. The wolves leapt in and chaos was complete. They worked as a pack, but split into groups. Two and three a trolloc seemed the average.They were pushing for a greater goal, Tormir knew, as was he. He whirled out to his right and smashed a charging orc in it's face. It's look of surprise was masked by contortions of pain and by the bones in the lower half of it's face being crushed to dust. It tried to roar, to cry out it's pain and defiance, but it's windpipe didn't work. Tormir charged on. He slipped in the shadows and took a deep breath. At the exact moment he was going to leave them, a goblin was slinkining past his spot. He proceeded to smash it into the ground, it's bones crushing beneath his swing. He decided to keep to the shadows then. He opened his mind, letting the others thoughts flow through. And he began to see why and how the wolves enjoyed slaughter such as this. Reclosing his mind, he reached around an orcs neck and tapped it's chest from behind. It had been standing there, rather stupidly, trying to decide to fight or flee. It looked around animatedly and then turned. Tormir felt a prod in his mind. It was Tree, the pack leader. He opened his mind, letting her see what he saw. With one fist, he slugged the orc, smashing it's teeth and sending a mixture of blood and spittle flying. He brought his hammer up to attack and was greeted by a sharp pain in his shoulder. Another orc was standing some distance from him, bow raised and a wide grin. Roaring in rage and defiance, Tormir ripped the arrow out with his teeth and raised his arm. A superficial wound at best. The orc he had punched had recovered and was backing away, the better to use it's greatsword. He raised his hammer and blocked the blow, then jerked both hammer and blade far out to the side. The sword would have slid, if not for a notch in the blade. The hammer caught and flung the weapon far from it's owner. He smashed it's ribs and left it dying. The wolves had brought down one of the Mydraal and he was determined to kill the other. He lept at the Neverborn, hammer descending. The surprising clash of steel on steel was one that made Tormir grin. At last. A real fight. The wolves circled, waiting their chance. He brought the hammer back and leapt back a step. His opponent followed with it's sword point first, seeking his heart. He sidestepped and then smashed it's head, once, twice! He raised the hammer for a third strike when Bark and Wild Moons leapt on the Mydraal. They tore at it with their maws, seeking to kill it. He stepped back and roared. The neverborn looked up at him and the two wolves paused. It was enough. He slammed the hammer down with such force, that the wolves say the ground near the mydraal shook. It thrashed in it's death throes, but would never rise again. "Well Tree, have I earned a name?" He sat down on a log that was clearly used for just that. Sitting. "Yes, Two Legs, you have. You shall be known to wolves as Shadow Bear. You fight with the strength of a bear and yet you fight from the shadows. It fits you well." He grinned. "Thank you." With that, the wolves parted company with him.
That left him alone. He rose and walked back to where he had camped. It was a long walk, but what did he have to fear? He was Shadow Bear. A voice, not a welcome wolf voice, but harsh and grating, intruded.
Shadow Bear? What a name. Can't they do better? Well, they could certainly do worse.
What of it. Why are you bothering me again. Begone!
Begone? Really. What am I, some unwanted plaything? You should revel in the fact that I'm bothering to pay attention to you, worm.
Worm is it? Heh, if you can't do better... What do you want? Trying to destroy all humankind again?
Alas, that I could. No. I have information for you that could prove valuable. Care to indulge me?
What price?
What sting have thy words, alas, I am wounded deep.
Shut it. Who must I see? Who must I kill? What plans must I thwart this time?
Thwart? None. I know the tower has fallen. Chaos spreads. You feel the pull of the dark in your heart, emboldened perhaps by myself. Not thwart. You must help these plans.
Ok. Who? Where? Tell me. I know your point. Perhaps if the price is one worth risking........
Not that he couldn't recover a reputation. But in these chaotic times, it was of need to think of self preservation.
Ah. Now you are seeing right. Very well. Go to Shienar. Meet there with someone called Disraeli. Then you will know.
Bugger off.
Shienar. Not a long trip, but he had better get going if he wanted to get there and meet this Disraeli. He lay back on his cloak, the one all warders have. He would sleep out the night here and be in Shienar on the morrow. Horses weren't hard to come by if you were a lords son.
Sweet dreams....
Yea. You too. Go away.
He felt the demon leave his mind and slept. What a good night too...
That left him alone. He rose and walked back to where he had camped. It was a long walk, but what did he have to fear? He was Shadow Bear. A voice, not a welcome wolf voice, but harsh and grating, intruded.
Shadow Bear? What a name. Can't they do better? Well, they could certainly do worse.
What of it. Why are you bothering me again. Begone!
Begone? Really. What am I, some unwanted plaything? You should revel in the fact that I'm bothering to pay attention to you, worm.
Worm is it? Heh, if you can't do better... What do you want? Trying to destroy all humankind again?
Alas, that I could. No. I have information for you that could prove valuable. Care to indulge me?
What price?
What sting have thy words, alas, I am wounded deep.
Shut it. Who must I see? Who must I kill? What plans must I thwart this time?
Thwart? None. I know the tower has fallen. Chaos spreads. You feel the pull of the dark in your heart, emboldened perhaps by myself. Not thwart. You must help these plans.
Ok. Who? Where? Tell me. I know your point. Perhaps if the price is one worth risking........
Not that he couldn't recover a reputation. But in these chaotic times, it was of need to think of self preservation.
Ah. Now you are seeing right. Very well. Go to Shienar. Meet there with someone called Disraeli. Then you will know.
Bugger off.
Shienar. Not a long trip, but he had better get going if he wanted to get there and meet this Disraeli. He lay back on his cloak, the one all warders have. He would sleep out the night here and be in Shienar on the morrow. Horses weren't hard to come by if you were a lords son.
Sweet dreams....
Yea. You too. Go away.
He felt the demon leave his mind and slept. What a good night too...