Sniffing the air, Hrodgeir could smell the fear radiating from the group of guardsmen that accompanied him and his fellow Wolves on their sweep of the blockhouse. As he turned his head to look at his fellow Wolves, one of the guardsmen stumbled into him being stopped cold by his armor. He growled menacingly, the not fully restrained wolf within raging at the man who had dared to bump into one of the chosen of Russ. Watching the guardsman back away slowly and rejoin his comrades, Hrodgeir clenched his fist around his chainsword. He hated being paired with these scared little men, and was insulted that their skills were not thought of as adequate to take whatever was thrown at them.
Before he could continue his train of thought, they arrived at a stairwell. He could smell the blood of the corpses around them, but this stairwell smelled much worse. Snarling, it took all of his restraint not to charge into the darkness howling like an animal on the hunt. He could almost picture the muzzle flash of his pistol in the darkness, the sound of his chainsword growling low as it tore through flesh and bone. Words from Iorek in their native tongue snapped him from these thoughts.
"My soul longs to hunt through the darkness with bloodied blade drawn yet we are not alone Sons of Russ and enough human blood has stained the soil today. And I will not have more on my watch."
" I was not chosen by the Wolf Priest to babysit these whelps " Hrodgeir spat in Fenrisian, jutting his jaw out at the guardsmen who were even now following Iorek's orders.
" If this plan of yours does not work brother, then we hunt." he snarled, thumbing the activation rune of his chainsword. Deep down, Hrodgeir knew he would defer to the orders of Iorek Ghostwolf, simply because he was older and had been given a title. Although he would listen to the older wolf, It didn't necessarily mean he would follow everything he said.....