Snow of Steel Rain of Blood Ch 01
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Snow Of Steel, Rain Of Blood Ch. 02 free porn video
Chapter 2, ‘Hunter and Prey’
Once the two men had been resettled in the private dining room by the kitchen, and Furen had succeeded in convincing the innkeeper to deliver their meals there, the mountain man waved his hand at Drerin – telling the Dwarf to get on with his story. ‘Ah t’ink I’ll call ye bouldah. How’s t’at sound to ye, eh? Ah’ll call ye Rulm, ye got the same emotions as one.’
‘Get on with it Dwarf, before I decide you’ll be worth more for target practice than companionship.’
‘Ach, fine fine. In mah tongue if’n ye don’ miend.
Well, it was spring it was, an early spring at that. Fogrin had been telling me that I was ready, he was bringing me to Hagabor for my final testing to reach DeiShun. I had claimed my ten weapons and more besides that, and Fogrin complained everyday because I was correcting him more and more on tactics and history. We set out, crossing the open plains at night, Fogrin had developed this idea someone was out to kill him – and we were within sight of the smoke plumes of Hagabor’s largest furnaces when we heard the gorbu sound. I managed to talk some sparrows into scouting for us as we ran for the Gleaming Walls, but it was to no avail. My little friends told me there were three packs of Ocgren tracking us, and that we had no hope of reaching our shining nest. I told Fogrin as we were sprinting, gasping it out between breaths. I remember thinking that for a dwarf pushing 200 winters he was faster than a young flen. Fogrin stopped running and began laying out his weapons, speaking to them like old lovers, telling them of the pleasure they would be taking shortly. I stopped and prepared as well, silently praying to Blaywer and my ancestors, telling them to hold old death from visiting me just yet.
We had enough time to secure ourselves, before they were on us. three waes tall, and two wide, they swung the axes of their lokj clan, the sworn enemies of my family. I felt my ancestors power within me, and my tools danced like never before. Those Ocgren though, their eyes sparkled with a magik fire, and one by one my tools failed me, snapping and breaking in my defence, sacrificing themselves to save me. One shren Ocgren, scared to attempt me from the front like a true warrior, came at my behind, hoping to pentrate my arcing blades. I saw a sight that shall forever remain in my mind. Fogrin exploded out of the center of an Ocgren chieftan, seeming every inch the ancient War god Keldaq, and suddenly I saw his weapons, sacred Mulga’s Hammers. Gunsre in his left hand flew outward, smashing the head of that cowardly shren into so much pulp, even as Liptfiw bit deeply into another’s side. This mortal wound unfortunately didn’t pause the demon’s poisoned sickle from crashing through Fogrin’s worn neck shield, and even with the minsel coat couldn’t prevent the slight gash my lord suffered. ‘
Drerin was forced to stop, the silent tears paying homage to his teacher and second father were carving trenches in his stone cheeks. Furen took this moment to give the warrior time to collect himself, and strode to the kitchen to find out what was taking his food so long. ‘I expected my meal at least a vut ago, it’s been almost a vutcer, how long does it take to burn some meat and sdet in this gods forsaken hole?’
‘I’m sorry lord, but there was a disruption in the common room, some men came in demanding me to turn out my guests for inspection… Your food is ready now DeiShun, if you please, I will follow you to the dining room for you and your guest to dine…’
‘Very well. Deliver the food and leave. Let me know if those men return though, I would like warning if I’m to be thrown out.’
Furen quietly reentered the dining room, quickly glancing into the corners, making sure he and Drerin were the only ones in the room. ‘Continue your story Drerin, quickly though. I feel the innkeeper is not honest and is trying to cause one of us a world of pain.’
‘That is understandable, since I left Hagabor I have had nothing but dangers and hardships face me. To continue my tale though, Fogrin and I made quick work of the remaining Ocgren after that and quickly gathered the remains of our weaponry, attaching those that were still devoid of cracks and pits once more into their harnesses, and leaving the others to rest in the field with their laurels – the scattered dead bodies of our enemies. Fogrin was quick to hide Mulga’s Hammers, and forced me to swear by my grandfather Jorgun the Wise never to speak of seeing them in his possession. We applied a quick poultice to the wound in my DeiShun’s shoulder, and resumed our run to Hagabor’s shining walls, hoping to find rest before the sky forge.
That night, before we slept, I changed the bandage on my lord’s shoulder, only to find the wound was red and oozing puss already. I told Fogrin but he insisted we wait until the morning. Alas, morning came and Fogrin was too sick to rise, ay, almost too sick to even speak. His last wish was I take as many of his armament as I could, and flee Hagabor, to run as far as my feet would take me, in no particular direction. That is how I have Fogrin’s weapons, and the Mulga Hammers, and why I am not yet DeiShun. It is not meant to be, for without my master to vouch for my training, I have nothing but the word of an outcast DeiFil, who allowed his master to die.’
Furen opened his mouth to speak to the now silent dwarf, but his words died in his mouth at a sudden pounding on the door. The back of Furen’s brain noticed that Drerin had his weapons in his hands almost as fast as he himself had, but the DeiShun was too caught up in focusing his being on the door to let the wayward thoughts surface. Some barely observed hand signals passed between the two, quickly laying out a plan of attack and surprise for who ever was trying to enter. With Drerin positioned in a blind spot created by the opening door, Furen swung the latch and stout oak wide, dragging the limp and frightened innkeeper into the room, sending him and the covered platters to the floor in his need to check the hallway.
‘What are you doing!’
‘I… ah, you said – .. You said you wanted your food as soon as possible so I thought..’
‘Silence. You’ve brought the food. You can go now. Announce yourself next time.’
Furen was unsure if his last order had penetrated the addled brain of the innkeeper as he fled the room, but those thoughts fluttered away as inconsequental when Drerin removed the covers of the platters. The scents alone sparked older, happier memories in the hardened man but when the steam cleared and revealed stacks of shren legs, filets of lightly breaded qaw fish, even spicy strips of mehfit with sdet and vegetable wraps he hurried to the table side to join the voracious dwarf.
Halfway through the second platter of the seasoned qaw, both heard the door start swinging open, but the only reaction that came from them was Drerin growling around a mouth stuffed with the fish, ”bout time ye brawt us som’ wine’. The first sound from the door caused both fighters to spin towards it, drawing their weapons in the same motion. It wasn’t until afterwards that they comprehended the noise was that of the spitted innkeeper slumping against the doorframe as the Teghei blade glided out of his throat.
‘Assassins.’ Furen growled half a vu after Drerin leapt forward with a cry, his claws materializing in his hands in time for the double slash that took the killer’s head from his shoulders. ‘Next time, leave enough of him to speak DeiFil. We don’t know who they’re after.’
Furen’s warblade whispered out of his sheath, still containing that strange inner fire from it’s blessing, as he cautiously walked toward the door and his companion. Drerin eyed the long sword whispering sarcastically ‘That thing is as long as I am tall. Good luck fighting with it. My battle claws or even my deijufkre will claim more than that thing.’ Noting Furen’s look at the strange word, Drerin shook his gauntlets ‘My war gloves. Indestructible and
I can knock a centoak down with three blows. I don’t recommend trying me in hand to hand,’ the Dwarf whispered with a dark grin.
‘Fine then. We’ll see how many we each get, and the loser pays for the next inn.’
With this final agreement, the two men snuck into the hall and parted ways. Furen made his way quickly down through the hallway, glancing ocassionaly into the rooms on each side, relying more on his well honed instincts to alert him to danger as he stalked the silent assassins. A slight twinge made him quickly turn into a room on his left, kicking the door asunder in a powerful motion as he surveyed the sparse quarters. His blade came to his defense almost of it’s own volition, blocking the hand spurs flashing silently towards his right eye. The sparks illuminated the darkened room, shocking Furen by revealing the four assassins besides the one entangled in his sword. With a quick wrist movement he sent the GeiShun spinning away without his hand, and backed away into the hall, desperately trying to use the door as a natural chokepoint for the men charging him. Thoughts skittered outside the fighting void in Furen’s mind, shock at the emotionless reaction of the man who lost his hand, as well as the dead silence the fighters maintained in their swift movements to attack. Shock managed to crack that well formed void in Furen’s mind when suddenly two of the Teghei effortlessly sliced their ways through the walls on each side of the door, destroying his try at a tactical advantage. A sigh of resignation passed Furen’s lips, and with a quick hand gesture it suddenly ignited. The very air he blew from his lungs turned into jets of flame, turning the entire room infront of him into a grotesque type of pyre. The sole remaining Teghei stood still, horrified by the power Furen possessed. ‘You think five of you is enough to stop the Flame Drahen? The Bane of Soocraj? I left no two stones on each other. And you think five mere Teghei DeiFil assassins can stop me?’
‘There are more than five of us,’ the Teghei Deifil whispered to Furen, ‘There are ten DeiFil to each DeiShun. I am surprised Master Lujgeh didn’t kill you first.’
With a groan of exasperation Furen nonchalantly backhanded the DeiFil with his sword, leaving the split body to collapse on the floor as he stalked towards the stairs, hearing the signs of battle from the common room and fearing he might have to pay for the rooms. The Drahen reached the bottom step of the stairs in time to survey the utter carnage represented in the common room. Swathes of death had been carved from every conceivable opening to the outside, easily marking the paths of the Teghei as they cut their way through the patrons some of whom hadn’t even had time to look up from their meals. One dead body was still clutching a dice cup, even with the dagger obviously protruding out of his left eye. A sudden commotion from the kitchen had Furen spinning on the balls of his feet, prepared for anything. The last thing he expected was the ragdoll looking body of – presumably – the last Teghei DeiFil come exploding out of a wall, leaving Drerin visible on the other side with his hands cocked like some common pugilist – though any combat veteran would know that the dwarf’s entire body was a weapon by the way he stood, not just his gauntleted hands.
‘I smell fire. What happened?’
‘Ah Drerin, beautiful jab. Oh, I knocked over a candle and some of the assassins burnt to death upstairs. I think it’s still burning.’
‘A candle eh? I have my doubts about that Drahen. I’ve heard rumors of Soocraj. But either way, if no steel touched them they count not for your tally. How many others were yours? That piece of furl droppings was my sixth, including that one in the dining room. The fourth one claimed my claws, mores the pity.’
‘Six? Then that is the full tally. I fear I must buy our rooms at the next inn on our way to Hagabor. Let us leave this abattoir and let the fire lord take his fill. My horse is in the stable, let’s go.’
The stable unfortunately was just as lifeless as the common room in the inn. It seemed the assassins either reveled in bloodshed or were adamant about allowing no witnesses. With another groan of exasperation, Furen grabbed what he could for bed coverings from the tack boxes, and watched as the oversized dwarf darted through the kitchen’s backdoor, sumarily bursting out again with every open weapon strap on his harness stuffed with every portable food he could grab – as well as four empty water bladders.
‘Alright then, let’s get ourselves moving Drahen, we’ve got three days’ hard marching ahead of us, if you can keep pace with a dwarf .’
Chapter 3, ‘To walk and talk’
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