The Claw: Fury of Wolves
Fenris, a ferocious and ever changing world of fire and ice, unforgiving as it undoes the life of the weak while the strongest struggle to survive. In records, Fenris is little more than a harsh deathworld of ice, floating in space near the innermost sectors of Segmentum Obscuras. To those who know, those who call it home, Fenris is more than just a world of cold and death. It is a place where warriors are made, gods walk amongst men to venture across the stars and defeat the horrors therein. These warriors are the Space Wolves, who some might declare as barbarians and others heroes’ greater than any other.
High upon the greatest mountain of Fenris’s largest continent, Asaheim, lies the Fang; mighty fortress of the Space Wolves and one of the most impenetrable bastions in all of the Imperium of man. This fortress, this hollowed mountain, serves as home to the Space Wolves, piercing the very sky like a spear pointed towards the great moon.
All; The Fang looms high in the distance, even so far away as it is now, on the mountain cliffs at the edge of Asaheim. You look to it for a few moments before turning to the fire and the other forms gathered around it. It had been two months since you had last set foot in the halls of the Fang, in that time you had traveled across half of Asaheim on foot tracking a great razor-ursid. For some of you, this is not the first of such ventures, but rather a tradition that held its place from your former leader Kjarl. But for others amongst you, the tracking of the great beast was the first true act with your pack-brothers, with your claw.
The journey had been long, you had been dropped at the edges of northern Asaheim to seek the tracks of one of the continents deadly creatures. Clad only in furs and armed only with spears and knives, you had discovered tracks of a razor-ursid and stalked the beast. The creature, from the tracks alone, was a massive one, easily four times the mass of any of you and greater in size, and adding to that it was a wizened beast for it had eluded your pursuit on a number of occasions. One week ago, the hunt came to its climax when you had happened upon the creature, catching it downwind of your scent during a storm.
You and your brothers had come upon the creature, fighting a shifting game of cat and mouse as some took up advanced positions to surprise the creature while others acted as bait. Once, the creature had cornered Tyr along a cliff face, nearly ending the wolf’s life if not for the quick thinking of Keris and Frostulfr, offering their larger brother support to escape the cliff face and climb higher. It had been Krahl who struck the killing blow, shoving Alrik aside and nearly into the path of the beasts massive claw so that he could thrust his spear into the creatures eye, circumventing the armoured bone, and into its brain.
Alrik, Yngvar, Tyr, Frostulfr, Heimdall, Njord, Krahl, Azhad, Hrothgar, and Kjartan; You gather around the fire that you had managed to build, kept mostly alight from what fat remained of the ursid. Over the flames the smell of cooked meet washed over your senses, the smell of the last of the creatures meat that you had taken with you being cooked. The fight had been a truly epic one, something that would impress other claws, of that you were certain. But still, there was but one more task left to be done, to return to the Fang with the pelt as proof of your kill and completion of this task. As you sit around the fire, upon a flat overlooking some of the mountain ridges between you and home, Alrik and Tyr tell tales of past glories, of the fighting on Hecutor for Tyr and the Horrors lurking within a space hulk for Alrik.
Vermundr, Iorek, and Keris; You also sit by the fire, but there is something else on your mind, an obstacle still in your way from here and the Fang. Before you had set off on this hunt, Vermundr had sought the approval of Ragnar Blackmane, liege-lord of the young pack leader’s company. Permission had been granted with amusement, with a word of warning given before the two had parted ways months ago. Others would be watching them, to try and block their success and rob the pack of its glory were it to lax. In these two months, there had been no sign of who, or what, lord Blackmane had warned Vermundr of and now that they were returning to the Fang it was all the more likely that they would soon encounter it.
In these weeks, Vermundr had spoken of this warning to Iorek and Keris, not entirely sure of its meaning but wanting others aware. Now though, you contemplate on who, or what, the warning may speak of and whether or not it be best to reveal this to the others of the pack.
[Hello everyone, welcome to the start of Fury. Not much going on in regards to action, more of a little introduction for you lot; let you interact with one another and recall the last few months of your lives. About seven months ago, the Fist of Russ returned to Fenris and the Pack had been reforged to twelve strong. In the following five months, you had trained together, become a family. For some of you, this has been an adjustment, being the ‘older’ wolves when not so long ago you had been much the same. For others, to be chosen by someone under the eye of a wolf lord, was an honour you had only dreamed of since your trials had ended.
The Fang is little more than a day’s journey away from here; what are your thoughts on these last two months? What about the next twenty four hours, in the case of those aware of the warning?]
Damnation is paved on good intentions; subtle and sugar coated or blunt and honest
A hero is someone who steps up when everyone else backs down.
Popularity is what people strive for when they lack the strength to be themselves.
Seriously, is it really that hard to write reviews without spoilers?
Reporting Posts - read this
Last edited by darkreever; 05-18-11 at 06:53 PM.