Auguz the Manslayer
The too-old human spoke up, his shadowed eyes fixed upon the mountainous horizon. He called them the Spine, and Auguz turned his own gaze that way. He had seen the Spine before, but were these really the same---Wait. They were, but he had been on the other side of them before. He tried to envision the memory, mentally twisting and turning it, and overlapped it across the image in the present time. It seemed to fit. Finally, a landmark!
He took more than a little satisfaction from the elder's statement that Sulfrey, the land of their destination (though he still had no seen no reason to believe the Warden could stop him from simply disappearing into the wild blue yonger) was to the southwest. Which meant the other human elder, the stupid one, was trampsing off in the wrong direction. While continuing to taunt the "beast," no less.
Ah, I know which of these accursed ones I'm going to kill first. Now he had only to decide how to do it. His first slaughter after being released from the Maw deserved to be special---should he slice the man into tiny bits like a diced onion? Or butcher him in thick cuts like a prime beef cow?
The orc's wry little grin disappeared, however, when the blue woman began to squawk. If she was trying to endear herself to him, she was protesting far too loudly. And she continued to talk, of gold and other meaningless things. He simply crossed his arms and pointedly ignored her, looking instead towards the mountains again.
The too-old human's senses were sharp. Auguz lifted one big hand to his brow, and scanned the same ridge the elder seemed to be looking at. The blue woman's hawk cried out, so now surely the rest of the group would notice as well. The rumbling of many feet; the thunder of horses. Heavy breaths and voices on the air. What was such a band doing---surely they could not have spotted Auguz's own small group from so far away? He looked for the glint of a spyglass, or the banner of a leader. Was anyone guiding the oncoming wave of bodies? They seemed too...chaotic...to be a marching army, even of the tribal variety. And what was more, they did not radiate bloodlust. Auguz had trained in the martial arts to the point that combat triggered what was almost a sixth sense in him; to know when someone wanted to kill you was as easy as listening to the rhythm of their breath and watching the light in their eyes. No, these raiders were full of fear, not exhilaration.
And of course, the others of his group began to panic at such a sight. Auguz stepped to one side as the blue woman unleashed more magical birds. As they flew past him, he continued to back away as they set the grass alight. The sparks nearest him were stomped out under his sandal before they caught properly. He snarled.
"Fool! In this grassland you're liable to burn us all!" He barked at her, pointing with one clawed finger. But then a momentary waft of something foul wrinkled the orc's nose, and he turned just in time to see the old dwarven woman quaff something. He was about to ask if he could have a taste---booze that smelled like that had to be worth a try---when the woman's flesh contorted while her bones seemed to rebel against their mortal prison. His nose wrinkled as he stepped back. More sorcery! Was devilry simply here to stay in his life, now?! Would everyone he encountered from this moment on be some form of bloody witch?
Before his eyes the foul transformation unfolded, and again Auguz put his hand to his sword---the oncoming horde of easterlings was of no concern to him yet, for they were far and whatever this was, was near. The dwarf's body swelled and changed, folds of flesh devouring cloth only to sprout a new wardrobe. In her place now stood an ogre, a beast Auguz had encountered more than once in his wanderings. He knew well enough, then, to leap out of the way as she barreled forward and vomited all over the earth---which extinquished part of the flaming arc now separating them from the horde. Was she giving them a path out, before they were all cremated, or trying to make a choke point? Auguz blew air through his nostrils and rubbed the bridge of his nose as if he were wearing a pair of chafing spectacles.
The stupid human and the other dwarf of their group seemed to be arguing, a mixture of shouting and babbling and speaking in tongues none of which Auguz cared to try and understand. Instead, he walked to the other human---the only one of this bunch who hadn't yet gotten on his nerves.
"They are afraid." he said to Thengil, as calmly as if he were remarking on the weather. "If we stand firm they'll part around us like water around a stern rock. Anyone who tries to run from them or across their path will likely be trampled. I doubt they care anything about fighting us at all."
Then, for the first time he actually drew his sword, instead of just threatening the action. Northern Gale's gleaming blade reflected the red of the sunset as if it had already been bathed in blood. He smiled as he held it aloft, as if he were thinking of cutting the entire horde in two at a single stroke.
"But I'd certainly like to see what they're running from." He chuckled darkly, and faced the thundering hooves and churning bodies without a care in the world. True to what he'd said, unless the easterlings attacked him he had no plans at all to move out of their way, even if their steeds bore down on him.
1x Like
