Post by Horas on Nov 18, 2008 18:26:01 GMT -5
The memories came back to him in his dreams.
He remembered the swing of his sword, and the clamour of the steel. The man with one eye grinned before him, as he lunged at his throat. 'Why?' he thought. 'This should not be'.
He remembered drawing blood, and then producing much of his own. It was not right.
Blackness swallowed him as a large figure jumped into view, swatting away one-eye. He was safe... he thought... as blackness took him.
Light came back to him, but it illuminated chaos far worse than one-eye. Blood, gore, shouts and terror. Looking at his feet, he saw red. He looked back up and shouted an order. His men charged, but he knew they would run into a trap; so he changed the order. It seemed so real as he men hacked into the enemy's ranks, removing limb from body. He was not initially aware of it, but his own arm worked, cutting and tearing away at his enemy. He looked down to see a dead man, twisted in agony.
As he raised his eyes, he saw the enemy had regained their pose against the initial shock, and they struck back, a man aiming a swing for his face. A slower man would have caught it, though Stark had was not an average man. He was a king. Ducking the swing, Gariss dragged his sword across the man's belly, spilling his innards, before moving forwards. Dancing aside from two men, Stark spun from a swipe at his life, before lunging in, putting Ice in one of the man's chest. The man coughed blood up, as it leaked through his mouth and nose. He died standing.
Gariss only smiled. He soon took a blow to the back. The man tried another attempt at Stark, hoping to cause more damage, though the next attack was not as lucky as the first. Gariss was bigger than the man, and raised his sword, stopping the mace dead. He pushed the man back, causing him to fall into one of his comrades, a loose sword piercing his back.
Ice stabbed and sliced, killing heathens and traitors. Three more men fell to Gariss' blade before he turned to march on toward the 'Wolfsbane'.
The forces blurred together now, as enemy and friendly were mixed. Killing one more man, Gariss kicked the man in the chest, pulling his sword from the body. Gariss looked up to see a large man, clad in furs and talons. Shocked initially by the mere size of the man, and the maul he held in his giant hands, Gariss walked back slowly, before slipping a little in the mud, though he regained his balance, and his senses.
'I am the wolf, not he," Gariss though, his shocked face turning into a sneer, and a growl escaped his clenched teeth. Advancing toward the man, he lunging forwards suddenly, before raising Ice, ready to bring it down in a low side sweep. However, he did not get to finish, for just before he brought his sword down, the mammoth dropped his club down, landing where Gariss was-- if he had not rolled to the side.
Coming up beside the beast, he brought his sword down upon the thing's leg, cutting deep and causing a moan of pain, before it swung it's free hand at Gariss in a backhand motion. Raising his Ice again to block the blow, he succeeded in cutting the beast's hand, though it was too powerful, as it knocked him down.
Coming to his feet again quickly, Gariss avoided another swing of the club, before he lunged forwards at the thing as it was in it's follow-through. Jumping up toward it, and planting a boot on it's injured leg, the monster opened it's mouth in agony, as his boot pulled on the exposed muscles, and Gariss raised Ice high aboce his head, before bringing it down, penetrating the giant's mouth, and coming out on opposite ends of it's neck, as blood sprayed.
It stood still for a moment, one of his huge eyes wide and unseeing. As it fell backwards slowly, Gariss pulled his swords out of it's head, pulling out tissue and muscle, leaving a mess. Around him, men and soldiers cried in triumph at seeing the massive soldier lie dead. No doubt it had taken many lives.
Some of the other traitorous men looked upon in fear, as Gariss continued his killing spree. Somewhere nearby a sickening crunch echoed through the battle, where Wolfsbane lay dead. His bastard son was nearby, and raised himself up to call to his fellow heathens. He died choking on Ice and blood.
Sitting up, sweaty and cold, Gariss breathed heavily for moments more before and lay back on his side. He did not want to go back to sleep, for fear of the dreams.
Gariss improves to Grandmaster Sword.
Gariss improves towards Grandmaster Battle.
He remembered the swing of his sword, and the clamour of the steel. The man with one eye grinned before him, as he lunged at his throat. 'Why?' he thought. 'This should not be'.
He remembered drawing blood, and then producing much of his own. It was not right.
Blackness swallowed him as a large figure jumped into view, swatting away one-eye. He was safe... he thought... as blackness took him.
Light came back to him, but it illuminated chaos far worse than one-eye. Blood, gore, shouts and terror. Looking at his feet, he saw red. He looked back up and shouted an order. His men charged, but he knew they would run into a trap; so he changed the order. It seemed so real as he men hacked into the enemy's ranks, removing limb from body. He was not initially aware of it, but his own arm worked, cutting and tearing away at his enemy. He looked down to see a dead man, twisted in agony.
As he raised his eyes, he saw the enemy had regained their pose against the initial shock, and they struck back, a man aiming a swing for his face. A slower man would have caught it, though Stark had was not an average man. He was a king. Ducking the swing, Gariss dragged his sword across the man's belly, spilling his innards, before moving forwards. Dancing aside from two men, Stark spun from a swipe at his life, before lunging in, putting Ice in one of the man's chest. The man coughed blood up, as it leaked through his mouth and nose. He died standing.
Gariss only smiled. He soon took a blow to the back. The man tried another attempt at Stark, hoping to cause more damage, though the next attack was not as lucky as the first. Gariss was bigger than the man, and raised his sword, stopping the mace dead. He pushed the man back, causing him to fall into one of his comrades, a loose sword piercing his back.
Ice stabbed and sliced, killing heathens and traitors. Three more men fell to Gariss' blade before he turned to march on toward the 'Wolfsbane'.
The forces blurred together now, as enemy and friendly were mixed. Killing one more man, Gariss kicked the man in the chest, pulling his sword from the body. Gariss looked up to see a large man, clad in furs and talons. Shocked initially by the mere size of the man, and the maul he held in his giant hands, Gariss walked back slowly, before slipping a little in the mud, though he regained his balance, and his senses.
'I am the wolf, not he," Gariss though, his shocked face turning into a sneer, and a growl escaped his clenched teeth. Advancing toward the man, he lunging forwards suddenly, before raising Ice, ready to bring it down in a low side sweep. However, he did not get to finish, for just before he brought his sword down, the mammoth dropped his club down, landing where Gariss was-- if he had not rolled to the side.
Coming up beside the beast, he brought his sword down upon the thing's leg, cutting deep and causing a moan of pain, before it swung it's free hand at Gariss in a backhand motion. Raising his Ice again to block the blow, he succeeded in cutting the beast's hand, though it was too powerful, as it knocked him down.
Coming to his feet again quickly, Gariss avoided another swing of the club, before he lunged forwards at the thing as it was in it's follow-through. Jumping up toward it, and planting a boot on it's injured leg, the monster opened it's mouth in agony, as his boot pulled on the exposed muscles, and Gariss raised Ice high aboce his head, before bringing it down, penetrating the giant's mouth, and coming out on opposite ends of it's neck, as blood sprayed.
It stood still for a moment, one of his huge eyes wide and unseeing. As it fell backwards slowly, Gariss pulled his swords out of it's head, pulling out tissue and muscle, leaving a mess. Around him, men and soldiers cried in triumph at seeing the massive soldier lie dead. No doubt it had taken many lives.
Some of the other traitorous men looked upon in fear, as Gariss continued his killing spree. Somewhere nearby a sickening crunch echoed through the battle, where Wolfsbane lay dead. His bastard son was nearby, and raised himself up to call to his fellow heathens. He died choking on Ice and blood.
Sitting up, sweaty and cold, Gariss breathed heavily for moments more before and lay back on his side. He did not want to go back to sleep, for fear of the dreams.
Gariss improves to Grandmaster Sword.
Gariss improves towards Grandmaster Battle.