Gandogar lifted his axe and rested it against his shoulder, holding onto the shaft with his right hand, glancing around to see if he could hear the source of the noises all around; the howls tried to tear at his nerves, but he steeled himself against it and drew strength from the presence of Torag, who was at his feet, growling constantly. He noticed Nesrin touch the ground in the centre of the Qalm, but he wasn’t the focus of the dwarf’s attention - he had been trained to pay attention to the threat facing him, and Nesrin wasn’t even talking. He heard the vibrations of Aalrik’s bow stop, and then a noise emanated from the earth, causing a flash of concern to cross the dwarf’s face. Gandogar took a deep breath and focussed on the furies about him, wondering if they would give him any indication of what it was. He shook his head and opened his eyes when Torag’s growl deepened.
The Taroug burst from the thick woodland, charging at the Qalm with a bestial rage and evil snarls rumbling in their throat. Gandogar was preparing to command the Furies he had drawn to himself, putting the perfectly balanced axe on the floor, and placing his roughly calloused hands plam down on the ground. And then Daruk streamed past him, like a charging bull, with his manifest fury at his heels, golden veins shining in his mane.
“Damnit,” he cursed, swearing unintelligibly and changing tactics, lifting a hand and slamming his palm back onto the ground. He focussed on the leading Taroug and narrowed his eyes. The ground around the legs of his chosen enemy rose up and appeared to grip the beasts legs. A scream pierced the air as it’s forward momentum caused its legs to snap. The noise was horrible, but cut off as Daruk’s double-headed axe decapitated the creature, knives falling from dead hands. With that, Gandogar stood and grabbed his axe, hefting it into both hands comfortably as he started to follow his fellow Walker towards their enemy, even as the diamantine teeth of Daruk’s manifest Fury tore another Taroug apart, limbs flying. Tarog had also reached the fray, and leapt forwards, crackling horrifically, front paws slamming home into a Taroug’s chest, knocking it to the ground.
The dog-shaped Fury then left the creature, moving on, and Gandogar stepped forward to decapitate it, axe easily slicing through skin and bone, before becoming embedded deep in the ground from the raw power behind the attack. He swore as he realised what he’d done, cursing his stupidity, and then spun when he felt a presence behind him, and smelt the raw, filthy stench of a lupine-esque creature dwelling outside without care for hygiene, drawing his short-bladed knife and stabbing out, aiming for an eye, but not finding his mark before the Taroug had thrust forward.
It was only the dwarf’s momentum that stopped the wound from being deeper, the jagged knife of the beast slicing through skin. He shouted, swearing wordlessly, and then called on the Furies and felt strength pour into his arms and shoulders. Placing a single hand on the haft of his axe, the dwarf wrenched it from the hard-packed earth and smiled grimly, facing the horde. Daruk was in the heart of a group of Taroug, several laying dead around him, one with a throwing axe in it’s head, which was cleaved nearly in twain from snout to the base of it's neck, and was leaking putrid brain matter on the woodland floor. The deep dwarf’s axe was coated in gore, and for a second, with Torag keeping his enemies occupied by leaping in and darting back, Gandogar had a second to grasp just how skilled the deep dwarf was. His muscles tensing and relaxing in perfect time so that his blows would not be compromised by them. The blows themselves placed perfectly to kill and maim grievously. It was only at the last second that Gandogar was torn from his inspection of Daruk and swept his axe into the path of a knife, which slammed into the broad head instead of the dwarf’s weapon, and the tremors ran up the startled Taroug's twisted arm. With no hesitation, Gandogar spun on the spot, gaining the momentum he needed to kill with his axe and more, the earth;s strength still infused in his body, and when the blade, needle-sharp from his obsessive use of the whet-stone, hit the Taroug’s side, it cut through fur, flesh and leather straps like a hot knife through butter, shattering bones to minute pieces. Blood pumped out of the wound, watering the ground. Not stopping to appraise his handiwork, or admire his strength - he had done so enough with his great-great-great uncle Glion, and knew what he was capable of. There was no point in standing about when there were foul creatures to kill. The first time he had crushed granite and feldspar, steel and other materials to dust, he had been astounded. He had caught a ghost of a smile on his uncle's mouth, but it had quickly disappeared and he was tasked with more difficult tests.
Suddenly, Daruk and his Fury were by Gandogar’s side, Torag leaping about and drawing away the attention of a number of Taroug. In unpracticed unison, working as a team, the two dwarves hacked and slashed, killing together. One fell to their combined axes, one from the front and the other from the back, axes simultaneously swinging from both left and right, the perfectly forged blades sinking deep into flesh and tearing muscles with the huge force put behind them. Another fell when Gandogar’s axe cleaved it from naval to neck after his 'cousin' had disarmed it skilfully, and the tenth when Daruk, using the throwing axe he had artfully recovered from the corpse, struck a Taroug in the fur of it's chest, matted with gore and faeces, broken only by the weathered leather straps. The limestone lion Fury leapt on it immediately, the diamond teeth tearing it's throat, and claws through thick skin, copper eyes flashing lifelessly.
Malochai von Carstein; Terror of Hunger Wood, Lord of Lichenhof Tower
Last edited by Malochai; 03-06-13 at 03:46 PM.