The Fugitives of the Winter Hammer

[StoryTellerMan]

The night was cool. The forest was quiet. The snow was thick and still falling. The serene quiet of the forest was interrupted by the sound of paws flapping against snow, and hooves battering the ground behind them.
Slasher ran with all his speed through the heavy snow. Behind him the sound of hooves grew louder. "Thump, thump, thump-thump, thump-thump" they sounded as the rider came closer. Slasher pulled his pup closer into his arm, making running even more difficult. The riders closed in, and now Slasher heard the twang of an arrow, and felt a cold, steel arrowhead plunge through his thick hide. He shook off the pain and kept jogging away, now standing on two legs and running as the riders came closer and closer. He was almost there, if only he could make it a few more yards.
"Halt! Foul creature, surrender yourself or die!" cried the rider who now came in front of him, forcing Slasher to halt. "I'd rather die!" spat Slasher, his white hairs standing on end and his eyes glowing with anger, the moonlight reflecting out of the back of his eye. He stumbled forward a few more steps, trying to inch his way forward--he was so close...
"Stay back!" cried the human rider, firing another arrow into the mahirim. Slasher howled as the arrow pieced his other shoulder. "No!" he fought, stumbling a few more steps forward and reaching his goal. "Surrender!" cried the rider. "Never." he whispered as he slumped to the ground, blood staining his coat red. "Now, my sons! Slay them all!" growled Greytail--Slasher's plan had worked. Greytail and Mahirim Alpha came charging through the bushes to the right of the rider. The massive mahirim bore the rider off his steed and flung him to the ground. His hairs stood on end as he mauled the rider, slicing his jugular vein open and turning to his next opponent. The Sons of Greytail came darting out of the bushes as well, taking the other riders whom followed Slasher to the ground. As Slasher began to feel himself dying, he pushed his small son away from his arms and into the snow before him. The white and grey pup rolled in the snow and was quickly scooped up by Greytail. "Take him to safety." said Slasher. "We will return, my son." said Greytail, who turned and sprinted away with his sons behind him--more riders would surely come, and a second assault could not be chanced.
Slasher lay alone on the snow. His eyes were darkening, his vision blurring, and his life slowly began to fade away. And as he lay in the snow, his last glimpse of life was that of a steel-encased foot, and his last touch--the prod of an axe-handle.



Slasher awoke. His face was against a cold surface. It was warmer than snow, but much harder. He blinked and his eyes opened. Am I dead? he thought, trying to lift himself with his forelegs. The pain in his shoulder hurt him severely. "No." was the answer. So he lay helplessly on the cold surface for minutes until he heard another sound and saw another sight in the dark depths of Nilfheim's night. "Quite a mess you got into there." said a voice, gruff and cold. Slasher lifted his head and saw now another steed boot. An axe-handle was planted beside the foot, and now it was used as a lever to pull the mahirim to his feet. Now Slasher's savior was apparent. A long beard and strands of hair obscured the person, but it was clear by these traits that it was a dwarf. "Lucky you survived, you are." said the dwarf, shaking Slasher's hand. "Death nearly took you away before we found you." said the dwarf. "The name's Bror Grellhammer--Captain of the Winter Hammer." said Bror. "Captain?" said Slasher--how far had he been taken? "Aye." said Bror. He banged the handle of his axe against the cold surface below him, and now came a resounding ring. Slasher looked around and noticed this was no seafaring ship. All around him he saw the ground moving quickly away at a steady pace. On the right and left of him were two dwarven cannoneers, aiming and at the ready. "A warhulk!" thought Slasher. In all his life he'd never thought he'd ever see a famed dwarven warhulk. "Warhulks are a dangerous business." said Bror. "We've been boarded twice in the last two weeks." said the dwarf, climbing up to the higher deck. "Why did you save me?" asked Slasher curiously. "I will not let any soul be killed in the hands of the Crusaders." said Bror. "Who?" asked Slasher. "The Crusaders of Auros. They seek to purge Agon of any and all races beside humans. Dwarves are loose allies with them, but lately we've been having to chase them away with our cannons." said Bror. "Didn't you wonder why they were hunting you?" asked Bror. Slasher didn't answer but looked around at the fleeting landscape as day began to ensue.


"So what happened to your pack?" asked Bror as day began to break. "They left." said Slasher. "Ha! Some good pack they are, eh?" said Bror, but this was a step too far. Slasher grabbed the dwarf by his neck and stared him in the eye. "My pack would never leave me." said Slasher, dropping the dwarf. "Looks like they did." said Bror. "They will be back." said Slasher. "How's that, then?" said Bror. "They've my son. They would never take my son away from me." said Slasher. "Your son?" said Bror. Slasher nodded silently. Slasher changed the subject. "How did you find me?" he said. Bror smiled. "Now that's a hell of story." said he.
"We saw a band of Crusaders riding out from Mercia a few weeks back. So, naturally, we followed them, as the safest place to be is behind any predator. "We followed them 'round and 'round, and eventually we found what they were looking for: you."
"You were nearly dead when we found you, to make matters worse, another band came at us. Luckily, ol' Hammer here is still as sharp as ever, and we managed to slay them without a single casualty." said Bror. "So now, because we picked up and defended a hostile, we've got to be on the run." said Bror. "A few escaped, so it's only a matter of time before they find us." said Bror as the warhulk chugged forward into the dawn. There was only one safe place that would take in a few fugitives, that was the Mountain-City of Baradur.

[Crazy Hermit]

This is good. but baradur is the name of saurons tower. kind of funny that its a fugitive hideout, and not a place of torment and death. Otherwise, i think this is gold.

[StoryTellerMan]

This is good. but baradur is the name of saurons tower. kind of funny that its a fugitive hideout, and not a place of torment and death. Otherwise, i think this is gold.

I thought it was Orthanc.

Scratch that, Orthanc was Saruman's tower.

Anyway, i'll change it to something else. Thanks for the input.

[gurinthedark]

Nice story but it's kind of bias against us Humans.

[StoryTellerMan]

(City's new name is Enurimar)

"This is it?" said Slasher as the Winter Hammer came to a halt in front of a tall rock face. There were no merchants coming in or out, no villains creating potions and necromancers raising their dead comrades. No, it was only an elderly man sitting in front of a crack in the rock upon a stool. "Aye." said Bror with a grin. Bror spoke a few words in a strange language unknown to any--the dwarves or Slasher--, and now the old man stood erect. His hands rested upon the rock for a few seconds and now the illusion was gone. Before them was a great archway--behind it was a large, black-cobblestone road that led into a city with buildings on either side. Merchants, fugitives, run-aways and villians walked up and down the street, conducting their business, and as Bror hopped off the Winter Hammer, so did the other dwarves. Slasher thought it best to follow--the dwarves hadn't betrayed him so far, why would they do so now?
Slasher walked beside Bror and the other dwarves in a long line. Slasher was unsure and afraid, mostly. He did not know if any of the Auros Crusaders would find him here, and he did not wish to find out. "Relax. Almost everyone you see here is in a similar predicament as yours, Slasher." said Bror. "Few people who have no criminal record come near here--they've created an illusion that it is a spring from Hell, where demons and ghouls rise from the earth." Bror said as he walked. "What will we do here?" asked Slasher. "First we've got to get those arms properly healed, then we'll get a crew and some supplies together, possibly a few more cannons for the Hammer." said Bror. "We'll leave tomorrow night--the Crusaders already know we're here, but they wouldn't expect us to leave so abruptly." said Bror. Slasher nodded as they continued walking down the path. The dimly-lit city was filled with strange persons. An Alfar mage summoned up blue flames under a cauldron. An orkish witchdoctor stared at Slasher as he walked, but quickly turned away--few could stare at the mahirim for long without breaking their glance. Most noticeable were a band of drunken dwarves who held kegs of beer and heavy weaponry. Slasher felt out of place here. This was no place of honor nor glory. This was a place where cowards fled to, where true animals hid and where those who seek to destroy life plotted. Slasher was angered by their prescence, but he kept his pace with the dwarves nevertheless.
"First, we'll need some supplies." said Bror. "Kroll--you and Yuri fetch up some grub. Kaan, you and Dorn get us some more crewmates. I will set to it that Slasher's properly healed." said Bror, and now the group splintered into their seperate groups, leaving Bror and Slasher in the middle of the street. "Come, I know a man who'll fixed those wounds right up." he said, leading Slasher away from the street and into a dark alleyway.
At the same time, they did not know it, but two riders wearing white tabards over their armor came trotting into Enurimar, one carrying the head of a mahirim in his hand by its ears. It threw the head onto the ground and stared amongst the crowd that was begining to build in front of him--all armed and ready to kill the rider. "Find me the one named Slasher, and you will be handsomely rewarded. The thieves and fugitives stared at each other. "Wha's the prize, then?" said a human. "More gold pieces than you'd ever seen in your life." said the other rider, dropping a bag of gold onto the ground that landed with a clink. All eyes went to the bag. "Find him!" cried the first rider, and now the crowd dispersed.
Bror made his way into a shack. The room was nearly pitch-black besides the glowing of different chemicals and two alfar-eyes glaring at Bror. "Man's got two wounds on his shoulders. Patch him up, if you'd please." said Bror. The alfar stuck out his hand, and twenty coins were dropped into it from Bror. The alfar stared at Slasher, and motioned for him to turn, and as he did his wounds were still clearly visible, though they had been patched and stuffed with a gause. The alfar pulled out the bandages and frowned. The wounds were deeper than he had originally thought, nevertheless, the creature placed an herb into his pestel and grounded it into a mush. He added water to the compound and pushed the healing herb into his injury. Slasher winced with pain, but now the alfar's work was done after applying the medication to the second wound. Slasher's surface skin was easily stitched back together, and now the two were sent on their way--the alfar had no mind for company.
"Ruddy alfar." said Bror. "Won't even wait for a thank-you." he said as the two walked out of the alleyway. Their mistake was imeadiately felt as two riders in white tabards spotted them. "Kill him!" cried the first, mushing forward his steed and taking a swing at Slasher. Slasher's ears lay flat against his head, and his teeth were bared as the rider darted past him, though he didn't make it far before the beard of Bror's axe caught the leg of his horse. Down came the rider, battered and bruised but not dead, though for the moment he was immobile. The second rider fired two arrows at Slasher, which he dodged easily, and by the time he tried to string a third, Slasher was upon him and threw him from his horse. Reinforcements now marched forward in the form of , Kaan and Dorn and with them were three humans, another dwarf, and one mirdain warrior. Yuri and Kroll came as quick as they would as well--laden down with their supplies and food. They scurried out of the city with surprising speed as the first rider came-to and scowled. They had boarded the Winter Hammer and were already on their way to another refuge, this time the rider was sure they would pick a better place. "Damn!" he spat, smashing his fist into the ground. He rose and felt his right leg broken. His adrenaline-filled body blocked the pain, the more immeadiate threat was getting away. His horse lay next to him--its neck broken and its body mangled. It had landed on its neck and its two forelegs were crossed as it fell. The second rider did not fair so well--a massive gash was cut open in his chest from Slasher, who managed to run down the Winter Hammer before it could gain too much speed. A crowd of spectators stared at the first rider--most of them were the faces of the ones he had met earlier when trying to summon them to help him. "For the love of Auros, find them!" roared the rider, his words were felt amongst the men, and now they set off for their task upon their horses, deathpigs, and drakes.

[RichieV]

Nice job

[alfaroverall]

I'd be happy to read these if you would please use some paragraphs. (I see you used some, but that's not enough.) Seriously, very good writing can be plagued by being a wall of text. It's just painful on the eyes, and makes people not want to read your work.

[Beorg]

I'd be happy to read these if you would please use some paragraphs. (I see you used some, but that's not enough.) Seriously, very good writing can be plagued by being a wall of text. It's just painful on the eyes, and makes people not want to read your work.

I agree, your last post was a chore to read. Also, your last fight scene was a bit chaotic, try sticking to one person at a time.