Chapter Two -The Baying of Wolves - Ulfgar, Gizur & Gráknir

Ulfgar smiled nervously at Gizur. This was stupid, he told himself. He was a man now. He had taken his oath of loyalty to the ancestor spirits on the rune altar. He had his own axe and his own shield made of dragonhide leather stretched over a frame of bone. He had even started to grow his brown hair long as befitted a Wolfbrother of the Grimskull tribe. He was a man now. Gizur likewise had began to grow his mane into a fine black hair, certainly the girls in the village had noticed it and his ruddy complexion and flocked around him at any chance they could get. His gaze was firm and his thoughts seemed to be on the task ahead.
He looked at his companions, the Wolfbrothers with whom he had sworn blood oaths, and it was hard not to laugh. They looked like boys pretending to be men. They still had the down of youth on their lips. They tried hard to emulate the swagger of adult warriors and yet somehow it still seemed wrong. They looked like boys playing at warriors, not warriors themselves. And yet that was not the case. All of them had been to sea. All of them had pulled oars through storm wind’s lash. All of them had aided in the hunting of the dragon and the orca. All of them had received their shares from the kill. Small shares admittedly but shares nonetheless. By the custom of their tribe, they were men.
Yet they still had this task to fulfil. A pack of wolves had been ravaging their herds of deer, robbing them of a source their food and considering the months of winter were fast approaching, they would need the food. Most of the older men had taken the paths where the beasts were supposed to be laired, leaving the youths to cover the less chanced paths where it was less likely they would find them. A Fensrisian wolf was a great beast of dark matted fir and razor sharp teeth, not a thing to take lightly. The boys gripped their weapons tightly, most with longer reaching spears and shields to try and keep the beast from them.
Gizur looked around. It was a late autumn afternoon and the weather was fine. It was the day before the festival of the Day of Remembering, the first day of the last hundred-day of the year, the beginning of the short autumnal period when for all too brief a time the weather would be fine and the world would be peaceful. The Eye of Russ was growing smaller in the sky. The period of quakes and eruptions was all but done. All too soon, the snows would come and the long winter would descend on the world, as the Eye grew yet smaller. The breath of Russ would chill the world and life would become very hard indeed.
As if in answer to the thought, somewhere in the distance came a terrifying howling, a sound of unsurpassable loneliness and hunger. All of the Wolfbrothers looked at each other.
“It’s only a wolf,” Ulfgar said with what was clearly meant to be an encouraging grin. It would have been a lot more convincing had the youth’s face not seemed so pale in the fading afternoon light. “Russ knows I’ve heard enough of them. They used to worry our sheep something fierce in the valleys of the old village.”
“I’ll bet that’s not the only thing that worried your bloody sheep,” said Gizur nastily.
“What do you mean by that?” snarls Ulfgar.
Before Ulfgar could reply the wolfs howl was answered from the other side of the valley. The long wailing note echoed over the distance and drove thoughts of anything else from Gizur’s mind. It seemed to be the signal for a whole chorus of howls. From every peak, or so it seemed, huge wolves bayed at the rising moon.
“The pack is out hunting,” Gizur said.
“You don’t say,” Ulfgar replies.
“I would never had bloody guessed,” added Gráknir.
“That’s enough,” Ullie finishes testily.
“Don’t worry,” Gizur said. “Wolves rarely attack armed men. Unless they’re starving or desperate.” His words sound fine and unworried, but the clenching of his hands on the shaft of his spear and the nervous look in his eyes betray the true feelings.
“I don’t know about them,” Ulfgar said, “But, by the Ice Bear’s blessed right buttock, I’m certainly bloody starving. If they come near me, I’ll skin and eat them!”
“So what else is new?” Gizur said.
That sounded a bit too close for comfort .." says Gráknir warily as he scans the surroundings.
At that moment another howl sounds from just through the trees to their right and a hulking black shape of bunched muscles and bristling fur and dagger like teeth leaps from its depths upon Sven. The boys screams are short-lived as his life is brutally torn from his throat before the rest of the gathered group of nine youths.

as Ulfgar watche's his fallen brother die with the wolf standing above him still eating him, he is scared but doesnt let show as this is one of the biggest wolve's he's ever seen, instead he turn's to his brother's and say's

"are we men or are we women?, come on brother's we eat tonight"

Ulfgar move's toward's what seem's like a monster of a wolf readying his shield and waiting for an opportunity to lunge his spear into this beast, a tooth and hide from this beast will be proof of this kill it would also feed the brother's on this cold night.

At this stage, the beast of a wolf still keeps its attention focused on mangling the now dead youth on the ground. Its coarse hair is bristled and its hackles are raised along its back. Its breath wafts from the corner of its mouth in clouds and mingles with the steam from the spilled innards of Sven. Its jaws are huge and could almost Take Ulfgar's head in one bite if it so chose.
At this moment another wolf howl echoes fromt he way this beast had come, it still sounded a pieceway off, but it was definately closer than the last time.
ulfgar realises that the time to cast would be now while the beasts attention is focused on its meal.

with the wolf's attention still on Sven and hearing that there is another wolf maybe more getting closer Ulgar raise's his spear and launche's it at the wolf in hope's of killing this beast quickly as he know's to many wolve's like this mean's brother's in wolve's bellies.

Ulfgars aim is true and the spear plunges deep into the wolf's shoulder, causing the beast to howl inpain and stumble slightly. Its red piercing eyes turn towards the youth before it, its dagger-like teeth bared in a ferocious growl. It appears that while the cast has damaged the beast, it has angered it immensely and it is still not out of the fight. It drags its wounded leg under itself and prepares to spring ...

Ulfgar is pleased with this shot but soon relis'es that the beast isnt down and out just yet, the wolf turn's toward's Ulfgar and snarl's at him, with his shield ready Ulfgar reaches for his trusty axe and readies himself for a kill.

Ulfgar is flanked by the others in the group, their weapons raised for the spring of the beast. An arrow flashes from behind them and sinks deeply into the side of the great beast, the creature snarling and reaching around to snap the shaft with its jaw before returning its gaze to the boys. Its snarls are loud and deafening and are soon joined by the growls of two more of the beast exiting the copse of trees. The pair are not quite as large as the one already facing the group, but they still are enough to dwarf the boys.

Ulfgar notice's that two more wolve's have now entred the fight, not as large as the one he has wounded but still big enough to worry him and his brother's if caught alone. He say's to Gizur and Graknir


"what now brother's?..do we take the big one first?, the big one might be their leader if we take him the other two might run, whatever we decided think of the meal we will have when these beast's are dead...all we will need is the mead"

With nods to Ulfgar, the other boys agree with the statement.
"Ullie and i will take the one on the left to keep it busy" growls Ygorvic.
"Horgrim and i'll take the other." states Rendaak with a nod to the other boy.
The boys give quick reafirming glances to each other as they begin to move into position, their looks barely straying from the wolves as they try to assess what they are going to do.
The main group of boys led by Ulfgar at the head, move to engage the large wounded wolf, Gráknir
hanging back with his bow raised trying to get a bead on the beasts in front to release a killing blow.
The Wolves pause, their breath steaming in the cool late afternoon. their eyes offer an almost eerie reddish glow in the failing light as the sun slowly dips beneath the tree line. Their snarls are deafening in the small area. one of the wolves begins to bound forward, but with a loud howl and several growls aimed at it by the larger beast, it pauses with an almost subvervient flick of his head and takes a step back, its awful visage cast once more on the pair of boys stalking it once more.
With a short sharp barking sound, the large wolf seems to signal the others to attack, and as one all three wolves surge forward.
Ullie manages to position his spear so that the wolf attacking him spears itself onto it, the shaft snapping and splintering withthe force. he barely manages to roll away as the beast comes crashing down. As it begins to rise to its feet, staggering with the wound, Ygorvick tosses a second spear to Ullie and begins to circle for the killing blow.
On the other flank, the wolfevades Rendaak and horgrim's presented spears, a sidlong swipe shattering rendaak's speak and disembowelling him with hardly an effort. the dying boys screams echo loudly in the thick afternoon air as he tries to gather his scattered entrails as they spill from the large jagged opening in his stomach.
The large beast slams forward into Ulfgars shield, knocking him back a pace into a couple of the other boys, his teeth shattering one of the other boys spears as it is thrust forward at him. Despite its wounds, the beast seems hardly slowed as it rakes and growls at those surrounding it. Gizur leaps atop its back, plunging his long dagger once, twice and a third time into its thick hide, drawing blood, before it flicks him aside and it tears Phelps' head from his shoulders as he tries to slam his spear into its side. momentarily its broad back, streaming blood from the puncture wounds, is presented to the main group.

as Ulfgar is knocked back another one of his brother's goes down, as he readie's himself once again he yell's at the top of his voice

"NO MORE BROTHER'S WILL DIE HERE TODAY"

and lunge's forward with a mighty swing of his axe hopefully landing the final blow to kill this monster who has killed two of his bretheren.

Gráknir stands to the rear of his brothers as Ulfgar sends out his rallying cry.

"On the leader brothers!"

Flicking his arm around to his back, he draws out a iron wrought bodkin tipped arrow, it's normally reserved for very large game and armour piercing. The birch shaft is smooth to touch, the flights fletched expertly at the nook. Gráknir notches the arrow into the Yew Wood Longbow. The bow is delicately carved at certain points to improve the flight and distance of the arrow. Gráknir pulls the arrow back, setting his sights on the left eye of the lead wolf. Pulling back swiftly and creating as much tensile stress as possible he looses the arrow toward the beast. Just as deftly but much less accurately he sets free another arrow from is home and flys it toward one of the secondary wolves.

In his home tongue Gráknir shouts:
"Fyrir dauði og heiður!"

Gráknir's lead arrow is true, it skips past Ulfgars outraised hand, almost striking Gizur as he flies through the air as he tossed from the beast. it strikes the Large beasts left eye dead centre, sinking halfway into the creatures brain as the sphere pops with the impact showering gore and blood outward. It puts its head back and howls with absolute anger and fury. it should be dead, but somehow it is still standing on its feet howling.
The second arrow streaks through the cooling air and manages to strike the wolf facing the lone Horgrim in the side of the head, staggering it, but failing to kill it. It growls loudly and presses forward its attack on the boy, his spear managing to strike solidly into its chest as he fends its claws from himself with his shield.
Then the large wolf staggers. It shakes his head furiously, trying to step forward at the boys before it, but failing in its attempts. Quickly the others gathered before it step before and begin to drive their wepoans home and before long it is down, blood matting its coarse black hair, its remaining eye closing forever.

as Ulfgar see's what Graknir has done he turn's and says to him

"good kill brother, but we still have a healthy and wounded wolve's left that are begging for our blade's, we should honour their request"

Ulfgar readie's himself again with his shield guarding himself and his axe ready to split some wolf skull as he move's toward's the next wolf.

Gráknir nods silently at Ulfgar and sets to nocking another arrow. Leveling the aim toward the wolf on the left and announcing in a loud, scratchy voice, reverberating the sounds and stress the battle has tolled on him Gráknir shouts
"GRIMSKULLS!" as he drops to one knee and looses the arrow towards the beasts chest.
Before the arrow even finds a mark Gráknir drops his bow, rips his long knife from it's sheath and looks set to burst at speed toward the arrows mark.

Gráknir launches himself through his brothers, the knife glinting in the forest dappled afternoon sunlight. His arrow flies true tearing through the wolfs thick matted fur, sinking itself deep into the sinewy flesh at the wolfs chest. The impact alone is enough to stagger the beast momentarily knocking it from its lethally clawed feet. As if it was intended, in a simultaneous fluidic movement the wolf moves back to hurl itself toward its attacker tearing the air asunder with a snarl that could freeze the blood of the earth. Gráknir plunges himself through the cold air, all others seemingly lost in the red haze of battle. In the last moments Gráknir stops and throws himself on the floor dashing the earth about him in hues of brown. The beast flies over him this unexpected manoeuvre going unanticipated from the lunging wolf. As the beast passes over, Gráknir gets a fine look at its steely, razor sharp teeth. Closing his eyes out of sheer fear he targets the beasts neck, placing as much strength and power behind his now arcing blade.

The surprised wolf flies over the prone Gráknir, oblivious to the razor sharp blade angled beneath it. Its Howl is loud and pain filled as the blade bites deeply, slicing deeply into the chest and stomach as it passes overhead, the red spray covering the boy beneath. the wound is mortal by any standards, but these great fenrisian wolves are a hardy breed and it staggers to its feet groggily as it lands heavily. The wolf offers one long piercing hateful and pain filled howl into the air of the clearing, which is quickly answered to the south by another pair of howls.
Another boy leaps forward and the beast stumbles slightly as Serget jams his spear deeply into its unwounded flank, although he overextends too far, well within the reach of the talons of the wolf and pays the ultimate price for his slip.
The razor sharp talons tear the boys throat out and he slumps to the ground without another sound. The battlecry on his lips ending in a gargling splutter.
"We must kill this one quickly.. before those others are on us!" Yells Horgrim, his voice betraying his fears.
The beast staggers again and slumps back to the ground, struggling to rise, blood is pooling in thickening pools beneath it, mingling with that of Serget. Its breath comes in short, ragged snorts of steam flecked with a spray ofblood.

Ulfgar move's to help Graknir to his feet and say's to him

"brother, that's the craziest thing i have ever seen, i'd be honoured to fight along side of you in the many battle's we have yet to encounter"

as Ulfgar help's his brother to his feet he notice's movement in the treeline, hoping it's more wolve's he now has the taste for battle and from what he has just seen of Graknir he could go for a bit more action.

The movement in the treeline to the south is obvious now, and a faint crashing sound comes to the ears of the youths over the top of the sounds of Horgrim finishing off the nearly dead wolf on the ground.
The crashing sounds are getting closer and the faint sounds of growling and snarling reaches there ears. The clump of shrubs nearest the edges shudders as a small boy comes crashing through it. His clothing is half torn from him, blood and scratches cover his body. His visage displays a look of absolute terror as he struggles forward casting glances over his shoulder as he runs. He appears to be about 8 years old.
The baying of wolves sounds from not too far behind him.

Gráknir looks at Ulfgar with fear deeply etched in his eyes. "There will be many Ulfgar my brother but I will not stand here now and speak of such things. Our kin are being slain! Let us end this quickly."
The adrenaline now momentarily lost from his system, Gráknir feels sluggish though he knows he moves swiftly towards the flailing wolf. Gráknir stands no more than a few steps away, the wolf laying on its side pawing the air as if to grasp it for a foothold. The beast looks at him letting loose a snarl that penetrates Gráknir's bones and makes an effort to regather its upright position. As the beast claws the earth Gráknir launches himself at it's throat, sinking his bloodied knife deep into the animals flesh. In its throes Gráknir stares into the beasts eyes.
"dauði enda virðing"
Raising himself up as the wolf lays kicking its last, he bounds across to Ulfgar to await the arrival.

as the boy's are celebrating there short lived victory Ulfgar turn's and say's to his brother's

"weve got more company look's like they want to play, they just dont give up"

Ulfgar readie's himself yet again with shield held in a defensive postion and his axe held tight ready to lodge it into a wolve's head. He move's toward's the treeline yelling to his brother's

"MOVE BROTHER'S, WE FINISH THIS NOW"

The young boys gaze falls on the approaching bloodied youths, and a look of absolute relief etch themselves across his face. With that thought another pair of Fenrisian Wolves bound from the thick woodland shrubbery, a mere handful of metres from the fleeing boy. As if sensing the approach, he turns and sees the horror filled visage of the lead wolf bearing down on him, and stumbles in fright, staggering a few steps before tripping backwards and landing flat on his back. It would appear he only has moments before they are upon him.

Ulfgar see's that his fallen brother is in serious trouble and move's into a run toward's the bigger of the wolve's ready to turn it's coat into a red shagpile. Ulfgar yell's at the wolve's in attemp's to get their attention and give his brother a fighting chance to get out of there, he can hear the whistling of arrow's flying past him as he get's closer to the wolve's hopeing that they hit their intended target's.

Seeing the boy dash from the undergrowth Gráknir quickly sheaths his knife and rolls towards his Longbow. Seizing it, he holds it up for aim whilst casting back his arm to bring another arrow from it's quiver. Having only 2 Bodkins left, he opts for one of the last 7 hunting arrows. He tears half the flight from the topmost of the arrow with his teeth which will allow the arrow to curve in a severe arc upwards hoping to strike the lead wolf in the fleshy underside of its jaw. A risky maneuver at best, but all he can hope for to kill the beast outright. He didn't expect to run into a large pack of these animals, and with so many of his brethren departing on this trip, he thought to only require a handful hoping the long spears would cast of the main attacks. Of course, things don't always go as planned.

"Ulfgar! Ready your spear to drive it into his heart. This is your time my brother!"

pulling himself up from the ground, gizor snarls towards the giant wolf that threw him watching as it it brought to ground by Gráknir arrow. he looks about slowly and sniffs the air, the thick musk of the wolf fur and the sickly stink of his brothers blood fills the air.
Gizor looks away towards the treeline as the boy rushes through and seeing him fall and the wolf almost upon him. gizor pivots to face the wolves, swinging his arm violently and saking his shield loose, gizor grins slightly, closeing his right eye and throws his spear at the lead wolf, the spear flys from his hand striaght and true.
not waiting to see the result gizor pulls his axe from his belt and runs forward. a scream of primal rage bellowing from his lungs as he feet carry him swiftly forwards, his axe held high, ready to strike

The advancing group are startled to see a bone tipped spear streak through their centre, narrowly missing Ulfgar. It strikes the lead wolf as it pounces upon the prone immobile young boy. The cast is good and the tip penetrates the left eyesocket, driving deep into the skull of the beast and beyond, its shaft shattering with the impact. Simultaneously an arrow strike the beast in the underside of its jaw, burying itself to its fletchings.
As the beast collapses on itself, its momentum carries over the boy, its bulk barrelling into him and throwing him forwards along the ground in a flailing of limbs to land in a tangled heap metres away.
The beast carries along further to slam into the ground with an audible grunt and slide along the ground to a halt. It is not moving at all. Its head is slumped on the ground at an unnatural angle, its bloodied tongue lolling out. Already blood begins to pool from its wounds.
The second beast does not pause, its attention focused on Ulfgar, who pauses momentarily as his target is slain before him.
Gizur barrels through at breakneck speed, making a beeline straight for the remaining wolf. His Battlecry is bellowed at the top of his lungs and hearing this, wolf swings his gaze upon him.