Post by david on Oct 2, 2010 16:04:06 GMT -6
"Carrick!" The powerful voice called out to the younger Wolf, the man glancing over long enough to make eye contact with David. In that moment the Beta felt his heart skip a beat as the blade of the ax that the Gnoll wildly swung cleaved into the arm of the younger Wolf. Carrick let out a cry of rage, pain and confusion; it was the kind of cry a Wolf shouted out when in need. It was the kind that any Wolf came running to. Lowering his shoulder, David rammed into the Gnoll, knocking the hyena-looking creature to the ground in a violent smash. Faster than any Human mind could even register, let alone move, David's clawed hand snatched down to grab the Gnoll by it's throat and hurled it savagely into a tree several feet away. With a sickening crunch, the beast landed upon the ground limply.
Kneeling down quickly, David examined the arm of his pack-mate, experienced eyes inspecting the would. The chain-mail that they both wore had done it's job that night for Carrick; his arm severely bruised already and the bone probably broken. Pulling the younger Wolf to his feet, David jerked his head quickly to the left just in time to avoid a vicious looking broad-head styled arrow from striking his skull. The shaft of the weapon was stained dark red, the feathers black; a Gnoll arrow. Tugging the arrow free from the wood, the Wolf slipped it into the confines of his cloak; proof to show the Elves that even their forests were no longer save. "Come Carrick!" Urging the wounded Wolf into a quick sprint, David waited a moment to pick up the vicious looking double-headed battle ax the dead Gnoll had dropped. Testing the weapon, he found it to be well-balanced and heavy enough to carry a punch but light enough in his strong arm to be an agile weapon.
Perfect.
Taking off at an unhuman speed, David ran after Carrick. The pair of Wolves moved quickly on nimble feet through the trees, the forests being their home. Behind them a band of fourteen Gnolls pursue, the scent of the Wolves strong in their nostrils and spurring them on. Gnolls were vicious creatures, resembling a cross between a Man and a Hyena. Rabid, savage and cruel Gnolls were known to live for war and the taste of fresh meat. The ones that were chasing David and Carrick may not have even worked for The Dark Queen, they may have merely been a group on the Hunt that the Wolves had been unlucky enough to find. Whatever the reason was, however, the fact remained that they needed to outrun these monsters and get to the gates of Ahedaur; the City of the Elves.
The Wolves began to move even quicker, suddenly spurred on by a change. The forest around them had suddenly become calmer, quieter. They could hardly even hear the crashing of the Gnolls behind them. A feeling of serenity seemed to emit itself from the very ground beneath. For a moment Carrick began to panic, looking to David in shock and confusion. David, however knew the spell. It was designed to lull and lure creatures to sleep, a sleep that would allow Elven Hunters to sash their throats uncontested. These grounds formed the border of the Elven City. Driven by David's words, Carrick resisted the spell and suddenly came crashing into a section of forest that seemed more ancient, more dangerous. The thick leaves blocked out even the stars above, bringing with it complete darkness. A single trail ran through the trees, the trail lead to the city of Ahedaur. Grabbing Carrick by the shoulder, David spun him around to look the younger wolf in the eyes. "Follow this trail, and listen to me Carrick, do not stray from it. Whatever you may see, whatever you may here, do not leave the trail. It will take you to Ahedaur, and there you will be safe." With that David pushed the Wolf, Carrick taking off at a sprint.
That left David to wait upon the trail, his ears perking lightly at the sound of huffing and snarling. Hefting the small battle ax, he tested it again for the sake of method. With his right hand the Wolf drew the dagger that remained always at his hip, and stepping back into the trees, seemed to melt away into the shadows. There he waited in silence, his body unflinching, his breathing shallow; within himself the Wolf began to take over. Predatory instinct became all that drove him; he quite literally became a Wolf in waiting.
Moments passed before they came, their scent giving them away before even the noise. They stunk of rotting flesh and grime. Dirty, unkempt creatures Gnolls were. As they came crashing and lopping down the trail, David managed to count them out from within the protection of his darkness. Seven of them remained, apparently half of their number perishing in the enchanted trees and to the Elven Hunters. Seven wasn't a bad number, it was entirely possible; though it did promise to leave a scratch or two. Standing in silence, green eyes that almost seemed to glow watched the Gnolls from the darkness. As the creatures came within a mere two or three feet of him he still waited. He waited until the last one had passed, and it was then that in silence he slid from the shadows.
Viciously his attacks began, the first two deaths coming within seconds of one another. Bringing the ax down with a violent jerk, the blade slammed into the furred skull of an unsuspecting Gnoll, the second dying the blink of an eye later as the dagger slammed through it's left eye socket to pierce the brain. With a pair of sickening twists and tugs, both bloodied weapons were free and ready to continue their work. Parrying the clumsy slash of a Gnoll Swordsmen, David moved in close, the dagger stinging out like a scorpion to slide in between the ribs; tearing the heart open. Quickly spinning on his heel, the Wolf side-stepped to the right and brought the dagger down to slash the exposed arm of another Gnoll Swordsmen who had almost taken his head off. As the creature recoiled from the pain in it's arm, David swung the ax in a massive arc, the momentum gained lopping the head off the creature.
Leaving three to deal with, David had been prepared to surge forward and finish things, however, his attack was interrupted by a massive explosion of pain in his left shoulder. A snarl escaped from his lips, the savage sound carrying with it pain and confusion along with rage. A lot of rage. However, before he could even fathom a counter-attack a mirror of that pain suddenly came to fire upon the right side of his chest. Another arrow had taken him. Nearly stumbling, David blocked another sword that snaked out at him, his body running on adrenaline and primal instinct; his mind lost in the pain. Slamming the ax down ruthlessly as he could, the blade hammering home into the shoulder of an unlucky Gnoll, the Wolf swung around to face another.
Before he could even speak, a shout of agony escaped his lips as a sword was thrust up and into his stomach. The blade slashed in deep enough to protrude from the back of David, his eyes widening in shock and his mouth opened silently. The pain that surged through his body was that of his blood being aflame and his insides melted. In one lucid though, the Wolf hammered the dagger deep into the neck of the Swordsmen that had stabbed him. As the beast fell to the ground in death, David himself fell to the ground. One Gnoll remained, the one that had been wielding the bow from the trees. As the creature approached to finish the Werewolf, it suddenly shrieked in pain as an arrow took it in the eye. Seconds later a second shredded the beasts throat. Dazed vision barely made out the forms of beings that moved swiftly from the trees to check the bodies of the Gnolls. Words he could not understand, but rang of serenity and beauty graced his ears before his world turned black and he tumbled away into nothing.
With a violent jerk he awoke. Sitting up quickly the Wolf fought for understanding, his mind confused and clouded. It was then he felt the dull pain in his body. Gingerly fingertips danced down the flesh of his stomach, running over the stitches holding the gash closed. He could feel three other patches of flesh that felt tight, that felt stitched. The only reason he had survived had been because of the healing factors all Wolves held. Had the weapons been made of silver he would had perished quickly. Pulling himself out of the soft bed, the Wolf walked to the large window, his eyes looking to the moon high above. It's position in the sky let him know he'd been lost for five nights. He'd been close to death if that's how long it'd taken his body to recover. Tearing his eyes away from the moon, the Wolf quickly dressed himself in the leather and chain-mail armor once again. Slipping the hooded cloak upon his shoulders and strapping the dagger to his waist the Wolf exited the room.
However, upon leaving the room he found a sight before him of such beauty he was forced to stop. The Elven Gardens loomed before him, seeming to glow in even the moonlight; serenity gracing this place like a gentle blanket upon the air. This place was reserved for royalty, for only the deserving of Elven Society. That meant he'd been treated by the Elven Royal Family personally upon his arrival to the city. The Elven Hunters had brought him to this place to heal.
Kneeling before a strange a delicate looking silver flower, the Wolf gazed upon the creation with intense curiosity. Fingertips reached out to softly stroke the surface of the plant, the simple action bringing a smile to his lips. However, as he drew in a particularly deep breath he felt the burning pain of his stitches that littered his torso; the pain a cruel reminder of why he was here. He had more pressing matters than intriguing flowers.
(Here is the link to what a Gnoll looks like- mandible.helenzhu.com/Gallery/Archive/Fire_gnoll.jpg )
Kneeling down quickly, David examined the arm of his pack-mate, experienced eyes inspecting the would. The chain-mail that they both wore had done it's job that night for Carrick; his arm severely bruised already and the bone probably broken. Pulling the younger Wolf to his feet, David jerked his head quickly to the left just in time to avoid a vicious looking broad-head styled arrow from striking his skull. The shaft of the weapon was stained dark red, the feathers black; a Gnoll arrow. Tugging the arrow free from the wood, the Wolf slipped it into the confines of his cloak; proof to show the Elves that even their forests were no longer save. "Come Carrick!" Urging the wounded Wolf into a quick sprint, David waited a moment to pick up the vicious looking double-headed battle ax the dead Gnoll had dropped. Testing the weapon, he found it to be well-balanced and heavy enough to carry a punch but light enough in his strong arm to be an agile weapon.
Perfect.
Taking off at an unhuman speed, David ran after Carrick. The pair of Wolves moved quickly on nimble feet through the trees, the forests being their home. Behind them a band of fourteen Gnolls pursue, the scent of the Wolves strong in their nostrils and spurring them on. Gnolls were vicious creatures, resembling a cross between a Man and a Hyena. Rabid, savage and cruel Gnolls were known to live for war and the taste of fresh meat. The ones that were chasing David and Carrick may not have even worked for The Dark Queen, they may have merely been a group on the Hunt that the Wolves had been unlucky enough to find. Whatever the reason was, however, the fact remained that they needed to outrun these monsters and get to the gates of Ahedaur; the City of the Elves.
The Wolves began to move even quicker, suddenly spurred on by a change. The forest around them had suddenly become calmer, quieter. They could hardly even hear the crashing of the Gnolls behind them. A feeling of serenity seemed to emit itself from the very ground beneath. For a moment Carrick began to panic, looking to David in shock and confusion. David, however knew the spell. It was designed to lull and lure creatures to sleep, a sleep that would allow Elven Hunters to sash their throats uncontested. These grounds formed the border of the Elven City. Driven by David's words, Carrick resisted the spell and suddenly came crashing into a section of forest that seemed more ancient, more dangerous. The thick leaves blocked out even the stars above, bringing with it complete darkness. A single trail ran through the trees, the trail lead to the city of Ahedaur. Grabbing Carrick by the shoulder, David spun him around to look the younger wolf in the eyes. "Follow this trail, and listen to me Carrick, do not stray from it. Whatever you may see, whatever you may here, do not leave the trail. It will take you to Ahedaur, and there you will be safe." With that David pushed the Wolf, Carrick taking off at a sprint.
That left David to wait upon the trail, his ears perking lightly at the sound of huffing and snarling. Hefting the small battle ax, he tested it again for the sake of method. With his right hand the Wolf drew the dagger that remained always at his hip, and stepping back into the trees, seemed to melt away into the shadows. There he waited in silence, his body unflinching, his breathing shallow; within himself the Wolf began to take over. Predatory instinct became all that drove him; he quite literally became a Wolf in waiting.
Moments passed before they came, their scent giving them away before even the noise. They stunk of rotting flesh and grime. Dirty, unkempt creatures Gnolls were. As they came crashing and lopping down the trail, David managed to count them out from within the protection of his darkness. Seven of them remained, apparently half of their number perishing in the enchanted trees and to the Elven Hunters. Seven wasn't a bad number, it was entirely possible; though it did promise to leave a scratch or two. Standing in silence, green eyes that almost seemed to glow watched the Gnolls from the darkness. As the creatures came within a mere two or three feet of him he still waited. He waited until the last one had passed, and it was then that in silence he slid from the shadows.
Viciously his attacks began, the first two deaths coming within seconds of one another. Bringing the ax down with a violent jerk, the blade slammed into the furred skull of an unsuspecting Gnoll, the second dying the blink of an eye later as the dagger slammed through it's left eye socket to pierce the brain. With a pair of sickening twists and tugs, both bloodied weapons were free and ready to continue their work. Parrying the clumsy slash of a Gnoll Swordsmen, David moved in close, the dagger stinging out like a scorpion to slide in between the ribs; tearing the heart open. Quickly spinning on his heel, the Wolf side-stepped to the right and brought the dagger down to slash the exposed arm of another Gnoll Swordsmen who had almost taken his head off. As the creature recoiled from the pain in it's arm, David swung the ax in a massive arc, the momentum gained lopping the head off the creature.
Leaving three to deal with, David had been prepared to surge forward and finish things, however, his attack was interrupted by a massive explosion of pain in his left shoulder. A snarl escaped from his lips, the savage sound carrying with it pain and confusion along with rage. A lot of rage. However, before he could even fathom a counter-attack a mirror of that pain suddenly came to fire upon the right side of his chest. Another arrow had taken him. Nearly stumbling, David blocked another sword that snaked out at him, his body running on adrenaline and primal instinct; his mind lost in the pain. Slamming the ax down ruthlessly as he could, the blade hammering home into the shoulder of an unlucky Gnoll, the Wolf swung around to face another.
Before he could even speak, a shout of agony escaped his lips as a sword was thrust up and into his stomach. The blade slashed in deep enough to protrude from the back of David, his eyes widening in shock and his mouth opened silently. The pain that surged through his body was that of his blood being aflame and his insides melted. In one lucid though, the Wolf hammered the dagger deep into the neck of the Swordsmen that had stabbed him. As the beast fell to the ground in death, David himself fell to the ground. One Gnoll remained, the one that had been wielding the bow from the trees. As the creature approached to finish the Werewolf, it suddenly shrieked in pain as an arrow took it in the eye. Seconds later a second shredded the beasts throat. Dazed vision barely made out the forms of beings that moved swiftly from the trees to check the bodies of the Gnolls. Words he could not understand, but rang of serenity and beauty graced his ears before his world turned black and he tumbled away into nothing.
With a violent jerk he awoke. Sitting up quickly the Wolf fought for understanding, his mind confused and clouded. It was then he felt the dull pain in his body. Gingerly fingertips danced down the flesh of his stomach, running over the stitches holding the gash closed. He could feel three other patches of flesh that felt tight, that felt stitched. The only reason he had survived had been because of the healing factors all Wolves held. Had the weapons been made of silver he would had perished quickly. Pulling himself out of the soft bed, the Wolf walked to the large window, his eyes looking to the moon high above. It's position in the sky let him know he'd been lost for five nights. He'd been close to death if that's how long it'd taken his body to recover. Tearing his eyes away from the moon, the Wolf quickly dressed himself in the leather and chain-mail armor once again. Slipping the hooded cloak upon his shoulders and strapping the dagger to his waist the Wolf exited the room.
However, upon leaving the room he found a sight before him of such beauty he was forced to stop. The Elven Gardens loomed before him, seeming to glow in even the moonlight; serenity gracing this place like a gentle blanket upon the air. This place was reserved for royalty, for only the deserving of Elven Society. That meant he'd been treated by the Elven Royal Family personally upon his arrival to the city. The Elven Hunters had brought him to this place to heal.
Kneeling before a strange a delicate looking silver flower, the Wolf gazed upon the creation with intense curiosity. Fingertips reached out to softly stroke the surface of the plant, the simple action bringing a smile to his lips. However, as he drew in a particularly deep breath he felt the burning pain of his stitches that littered his torso; the pain a cruel reminder of why he was here. He had more pressing matters than intriguing flowers.
(Here is the link to what a Gnoll looks like- mandible.helenzhu.com/Gallery/Archive/Fire_gnoll.jpg )
