Kjempe "Leaper" Desomsnakkermedfjel
Jan 12, 2021 23:16:45 GMT
Merla, the Daughter of Summer and Oziah Daybreaker like this
Post by Wixspartan on Jan 12, 2021 23:16:45 GMT
(CW: violence and possible gore)
It's cold this morning. The wind howls through the Spine of the World. A human would shrivel and die from lack of air and cold, but these people are certainly not human. Four goliaths, covered in snow white pelts, almost imperceptibly move along a mountain pass. They're looking for something, that's obvious enough, and just as the sun is cresting the beautiful snow covered peaks the leader seems to find it. He points silently to a cave, and as the snow begins to clear it's obvious what lies inside. A large troll, covered in patchy disgusting fur sleeping in a pile of bones. Three of the goliaths draw bows and ready their shots, the hunt is on. Three arrows fly, piercing the hide of the beast as it screams in confusion and pain. Suddenly from among the goliaths the largest pulls of his cloak, he's clearly the youngest of the group, fresh faced and inexperienced. All of a sudden he leaps almost superhumanly towards the troll, axes drawn, screaming a war cry in some ancient language of the giants. He latches on to its back and begins to hack at its flesh. Blood sprays across his face as he continues his war cries. No matter how hard he tries though, the skin knots itself back together as if he had done nothing. The other three goliaths rush to follow, one drawing a spear, one drawing a large two handed axe and the leader pulling back his sleeves to reveal arcane magic crackling in his massive fingers. Suddenly the troll grabs the annoying gnat on its back and throws him against the wall, his bones break before he slumps to the floor unconscious. When he wakes the troll is dead, scorched with magic fire; but he is alive, and stronger because of it. His axes are done for however, the fragile would splintered and cracked, now useless. No matter, troll bone shall have to do....
The wind is less harsh this night, the breeze blows coolly. The young goliath has grown since then, several more scars spread their way across his muscular body. He wears nothing but simple trousers and two bone handled axes on his hips. It is his coming of age, no longer is he a young pupil, resigned to guard duty and hunting rabbits. He sees his quarry before him, a young brown bear, jaw bloodied with a freshly killed dear. He draws his axes, only to throw them to one side before bellowing at the bear in a language older than time. The bear responds by standing on her hind legs, roaring in kind. The two giants lock themselves in combat, each trying to wrestle the other into stillness, each fighting with the fury of a dragon. The young goliath walks back to his tribe, a bear head at his side and several gashes across his back. There's a grin on his face however, he has become a true hunter...
It was rare that the tribe of Desomsnakkermedfjel made the trip down the mountains to the floating sea of ice but the time had come. Those not carrying tents or food carried large pelts, bones and all manner of spoils from their hunts. The small human settlement was used to this by now. Every 3 years on the same day the tribe came down to trade with the humans, exchanging their furs and bones for jewelry and dwarven steel. This time it was different however, the red sails had come to town. 5 ships, all bearing the flag of a slaving guild were pulled up in the docks of the trading village. But how could the peaceful tribe have known...
It has been 4 years since they took him. He's seen fighting pits, battlegrounds and more cities than he can count. Finally he has fought his way free, free of the pits, free of the battles and free of those damn cities. He's heard of the new world however, a land less well trodden, a land where he can once be free to roam the mountains and valleys. But even in this land of tranquility he still feels his primal feelings. The hunt is on...
It's cold this morning. The wind howls through the Spine of the World. A human would shrivel and die from lack of air and cold, but these people are certainly not human. Four goliaths, covered in snow white pelts, almost imperceptibly move along a mountain pass. They're looking for something, that's obvious enough, and just as the sun is cresting the beautiful snow covered peaks the leader seems to find it. He points silently to a cave, and as the snow begins to clear it's obvious what lies inside. A large troll, covered in patchy disgusting fur sleeping in a pile of bones. Three of the goliaths draw bows and ready their shots, the hunt is on. Three arrows fly, piercing the hide of the beast as it screams in confusion and pain. Suddenly from among the goliaths the largest pulls of his cloak, he's clearly the youngest of the group, fresh faced and inexperienced. All of a sudden he leaps almost superhumanly towards the troll, axes drawn, screaming a war cry in some ancient language of the giants. He latches on to its back and begins to hack at its flesh. Blood sprays across his face as he continues his war cries. No matter how hard he tries though, the skin knots itself back together as if he had done nothing. The other three goliaths rush to follow, one drawing a spear, one drawing a large two handed axe and the leader pulling back his sleeves to reveal arcane magic crackling in his massive fingers. Suddenly the troll grabs the annoying gnat on its back and throws him against the wall, his bones break before he slumps to the floor unconscious. When he wakes the troll is dead, scorched with magic fire; but he is alive, and stronger because of it. His axes are done for however, the fragile would splintered and cracked, now useless. No matter, troll bone shall have to do....
The wind is less harsh this night, the breeze blows coolly. The young goliath has grown since then, several more scars spread their way across his muscular body. He wears nothing but simple trousers and two bone handled axes on his hips. It is his coming of age, no longer is he a young pupil, resigned to guard duty and hunting rabbits. He sees his quarry before him, a young brown bear, jaw bloodied with a freshly killed dear. He draws his axes, only to throw them to one side before bellowing at the bear in a language older than time. The bear responds by standing on her hind legs, roaring in kind. The two giants lock themselves in combat, each trying to wrestle the other into stillness, each fighting with the fury of a dragon. The young goliath walks back to his tribe, a bear head at his side and several gashes across his back. There's a grin on his face however, he has become a true hunter...
It was rare that the tribe of Desomsnakkermedfjel made the trip down the mountains to the floating sea of ice but the time had come. Those not carrying tents or food carried large pelts, bones and all manner of spoils from their hunts. The small human settlement was used to this by now. Every 3 years on the same day the tribe came down to trade with the humans, exchanging their furs and bones for jewelry and dwarven steel. This time it was different however, the red sails had come to town. 5 ships, all bearing the flag of a slaving guild were pulled up in the docks of the trading village. But how could the peaceful tribe have known...
It has been 4 years since they took him. He's seen fighting pits, battlegrounds and more cities than he can count. Finally he has fought his way free, free of the pits, free of the battles and free of those damn cities. He's heard of the new world however, a land less well trodden, a land where he can once be free to roam the mountains and valleys. But even in this land of tranquility he still feels his primal feelings. The hunt is on...