“I think we got all of the bastards.”
Fryssa’s voice broke Kjeld’s short reverie, and he turned to the rest of the Nordic warriors.
“Aye. We butchered them Daedra-worshipers like they were pigs,” Aenar said.
“What mighty hunters,” Viggun added, smirking smugly.
Kjeld sighed, everyone had to make a comment it seemed. “Alright ye mangy lot, lets get back to the horses and head back ta town and git paid,” he said loudly, then waited a moment, and turned around to head back to where they had tied the horses up outside the forest.
After a moments pause, the others followed Kjeld. The band numbered ten in all, with Kjeld as leader, and Fryssa as his second in command. They were armed as one might expect Nordic warriors to be – mostly wearing fur armors, and wielding maces, axes, and war hammers, though a few had steel armor or a long sword.
The forest they were in was thick with vegetation, though much of it was covered with heavy layers of snow, and though the trees were leafless, their sprawling branches indicated that in the summer and spring months, their leaves would have made the forest quite dark.
Kjeld stopped suddenly, pulling his silver war axe from his belt, his eyes darting around, searching the forest.
“What’d ye stop fer, chief?” Viggun asked, his own hand going to his warhammer’s handle.
“Its…nothing. I just saw some movement, I think. Probably just the local wildlife…” Kjeld replied, sighed and sheathing his weapon.
“Well, we did leave a whole mess of bodies back there. Scavengers are gonna be coming out,” Aenar said, his tone light. “They’ll be feasting GOOD too.”
Kjeld nodded, and ordered the band onward. Kjeld thought he saw movement again a few more times, but dismissed it and didn’t stop the group. He shouldn’t anyway, night was falling and they had some distance to travel through the forest to get to their horses. It was dangerous to be in the forest at night. Wolves, bears, bandits, and all kinds of nasties came out at night,
Kjeld nearly jumped out of his skin when a bunch of wolves unexpectedly struck up a chorus of howls.
“Kyne, Chief, don’t be so jumpy. They just be wolves,” one Nord advised. Kjeld shook his head, pressing forward.
“Man, this is boring. The trip into the forest was much quicker, don’tcha think?” Another added.
“Yeah, I think we’ve passed that tree a few times.”
“Bah. Trees look alike. Stop yer whining. We’ll be out soon ‘nuff.”
“I Dunno. ‘Tis getting mighty dark.”
Kjeld grimaced as he too, realized this. This didn’t bode well. Dark-shapes at the edges of his vision, flitting between the trees and brush before vanishing, taking too long to leave the forest – which they still hadn’t accomplished. Maybe he was getting too paranoid, but, they had just tangled with a Daedra Lord’s worshipers and won. Kjeld estimated he might be a bit peeved.
“Cut the chatter, and hurry up,” Kjeld ordered.
As the band of Nords pressed forward, instead of becoming thinner, the forest grew perplexingly thicker. Those of the group equipped with weapons capable of handling this unusual development stepped to the front an begun carving a path through the vegetation and branches with axe, mace, and hammer. A few trees had to be felled, as well.
“I don’t remember it being this thick,” said Aenar.
“How strange..” muttered Fryssa.
“Stop talkin’ and git working, ye oafs!” shouted Viggun.
Though this tactic worked well for awhile, soon the axes edges began to dull, and chip, and one even shattered. The Maces’ shafts snapped, or splintered, and the heads of the warhammers fell off or the haft snapped.
“This is unreal…” Fryssa muttered under her breath, looking at her own chipped blade.
“Its’ hamster cave insane,” Viggun said bitterly. His warhammer’s haft had snapped, and the head had broke off in. “Have we gone mad and are walkin’ the Golden road?”
“We can’t continue this way, we’ll have to find a route that isn’t so thickly blocked,” Aenar advised.
“The boy speaks the truth, we can’t continue this way. We’ll have to turn back and find another route,” Kjeld said.
Viggun merely harrumphed, but the band started back into the forest to find another way. However, the trek back wasn’t uneventful. As they emerged from the path they had hacked into the thickened foliage something, a lanky gray something, leapt from the darkness of the night, its’ form briefly illuminated by the torchlight before it wrapped its’ arms around one of the nords – a bear of a warrior called Hulgarth – and leapt straight up into the branches, bearing the screaming warrior with it.
The was a sort of organized chaos amongst the band of ten, now nine, and then silence.
“What in Kyne’s name was that?” Fryssa asked, her voice scarcely above a whisper. She didn’t want the beast to hear. To come back.
“Some manner of beast…” Aenar breathed.
“No compassion, Aenar,” Viggun shot.
“It was a werewolf,” Kjeld said after a moment, sending the band into a flurry of talking and whispering.
“A werewolf! By Shor’s beard, I knew it was a bad idea to attack a Daedra-shrine!”
“Hircine is siccing ‘is hounds on us. That’s’ why we can’t get out. He’s punishing us…”
“Silence!” Kjeld shouted. “Regardless of what is happening, we must find a way out, preferably soon. Before we all end up like Hulgarth. Stick close, and keep your weapons handy.”
“Our weapons are damaged and broken,” Viggun said angrily.
“Then pick up a stick or get ready to fight with your fists if it comes to that. My axe is still handy and has a silver blade. It’ll handle these beasties,” Kjeld shot back.
And so the band of nine set back out into the forest, to find a way out. The chorus of wolf-howls returned, only this time they were ten fold as bone-chilling. They were hunting howls, and the band knew know that it was not wolves that made the howls.
The dark shapes flitting along Kjeld’s field of vision had returned. He knew what they were now – and that they were hunting the group. “They’re near. Stay ready…”
The warning came too late, two of the shapes – this time a black one and dirty-white one leapt from snow-covered branches down into the band’s ranks, and onto two members of the band. The lycanthropes’ claws cut through the weak fur armor with ease, and had ripped several gaping holes in the men before being forced to leapt away to avoid several large branches wielded as clubs and the few working weapons still left.
The damage had been done however; two more men lay dead in the snow, staining it crimson.
“For hamster’s sake.” Viggun muttered. “We have no chance against these monsters…” he bent down and exchanged his tree branch club for a fallen warrior’s axe. The steel blade was chipped, but in working condition.
“We would have a better chance if we didn’t run like the prey they take us as!” Aenar shouted, in a uncharacteristic moment of anger.
“Silence, fool, lest they take you next,” Fryssa hissed. “We have to keep moving and find an escape route. Hircine wouldn’t pen us in here. That’d be unfair. He’s a hunter and would give the prey a escape route provided they were smart enough to find it. Running at the beasts and trying to kill them will just get you eaten.”
“She’s right, we have to keep moving,” Kjeld said firmly. “If you, you’re welcome to try your attack strategy. If they’re feasting on you, it’ll buy us time to escape.”
Silence fell once again. The band, now numbering seven, pressed forward after a few moments, faster and moving closer together. It wasn’t long before another attack came. This time, however, the band was ready.
They were alerted by the sounds of the werewolves crashing through the underbrush and brought their weapons to bear on their attackers. In a short but bloody battle, Kjeld cut down one of the beasts with his axe, the silver blade cutting through its’ flesh like paper and causing it to howl in pain and clutch the smoking wound before collapsing. Another two fell under the broken and chipped blades of axes and several large tree branches, though not without fatally wounding another of the band. The poor woman died as her fellows cheered at their small victory over the lycanthropes, not noticing that she had fallen. Of course, when they realized this, they were far less happy about their victory, but after a small prayer for those fallen thus far, pressed on.
“They’re toying with us,” Viggun muttered bitterly.
“I know, I know, we just have to find the exit…” Kjeld soothed.
Suddenly, Kjeld noticed the shapes of the lycanthropes lurking at the edges of his vision had vanished. “They’re gone…” he muttered, looking around carefully.
“No, they’re gonna pull something new now,” Fryssa said. “They won’t given up quarry that easily.”
“Yeah…now would be a good time to hamster cave run.” Aenar added.
And so the six ran, throwing their all into the run. Up ahead, no more than three hundred feet away, was the exit now in view.
“Almost there!” Aenar shouted.
Then the wolves returned. Several hundred feet behind the group the entire pack of werewolves emerged, all rushing forward on all fours with incredible speed.
“They’re gaining!” Fyrssa shouted.
“Less talking, more hauling boat!” Viggun shouted in reply.
The lycanthropes were quickly closing the gap. Quicker than the Nords were closing the gap between themselves and the exit. Kjeld glanced back to count the werewolves. There looked to be six in all, now. Their numbers had been one less than the band’s original number. Now they were evenly numbered, but the Nords knew themselves outclassed.
The ‘wolves closed the gap. The slowest runners were the first to find out this unfortunate fact. In this case, the slowest happened to be Imsin and Adding, who were tackled by two of the ‘wolves and brought down. Their dying screams as the ones that caught them tore into their fleshed spurred the remaining four onward.
Less than a hundred feet now…
Aenar screamed, Kjeld knew that meant one had gotten him. He was dead. Kjeld ran fast. Viggun’s scream came next, though he heard several roars and whines followed by it, Viggun had been grabbed, but he was fighting to the end. Kjeld hoped Viggun got a special place in Sovngarde for that act of selflessness, as he heard Viggun scream again and the chase resume.
Almost…
Kjeld wanted to cry when he heard Fryssa’s scream. She had been his loyal and skilled second in command for so many years. Poor girl. She didn’t deserve this. None of them did. He knew he might not make it. Part of him didn’t want to make it, with his friends all dead.
Kjeld ran out of the forest, and turned back to see the wolves had stopped, staring at him with baleful yellow eyes. Kjeld allowed himself a small, triumphant grin, and slowed down, slumping to his knees and panting.
His rest was short lived however, as when he looked up he saw a figure in a black cloak standing above him. “W-who are you?” he asked, scrambling backwards and grabbing for his axe.
The figure pulled back his hood, revealing the face of a handsome Dark elven man, with the standard ashen-grey skin and crimson eyes of his race, as well as head of long raven black hair. He smiled cruelly, and Kjeld remembered him as one of the Daedra-worshipers – the priest. He must’ve escaped…then called a Hircine for this dreadful hunt to begin.
“You fell right into the trap,” the priest grinned toothily. “Bait the trap with some of the more worthless of hircine’s herd, let the prey think they’ve won…then the hunt begins…”
The priest’s toothy grin began to become literally toothy, fur sprout from his body, his eyes turn yellow and his face distort.
“You honoured user,” Kjeld said angrily as he drew himself up from the ground.
The priest – now a muscular Lycanthrope of ashen-gray and pitch-black coat – grinned wolfishly as he discarded his robe.
“Only one of us can walk away from this forest alive.”
Kjeld the Wild and his party never returned to the village of Thormund’s Watch.
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Just a random fan-fic I got into my head after listening to the song "Winter's Wolves" too damn much.
Obviously, this is a one-shot deal, as well, everyone got eaten. Aside the from the werewolves, of course.
Hope I managed to keep it fairly error-free (feel free to point out any you notice) and you enjoyed it.
If I ever throw up any other fan-fics, they'll likely being one-shots as well. I don't do the whole "Series" thing too well.
