And I would still like to have Urist up for round two. And my RL stuff is about the same as ever, I'm just in like... A manic state instead of depressive like I was. :/ Probably got a good week of it before it comes back. And I believe I promised an update...
Urist and Hans trudged through the bloodplains, heading north and west, toward the Mountainhomes. The terrain was gradually becoming rolling foothills and thick, haunted forests, a startling change from the sparse vegetation and relatively flat terrain around Spearbreakers. At night, the pair took turns sleeping and tending the fire. Nothing bothered them, unsurprising in Spawn territory, for the Spawn tended to exterminate most forms of life they came across.
The air grew colder, and the atmosphere thinned as the pair steadily gained elevation. Soon, they were at the base of a gargantuan mountain range, stretching off across the horizon as far as the eye could see. The tree cover went from patches of thick forest to isolated trees struggling to survive, and the blood rain became blood snow. Urist and Hans took stock before they ascended any further, and realized they were too low on rations to make it to the Mountainhomes.
Hans decided to start a large fire and prepare a drying rack while Urist hunted for game. Urist stalked off into the woods, leaving his bulky and noisy armor behind, taking only his spear, his dagger, and the jade spearpoint.
Urist followed the tracks of a small bear south, away from the mountains, his keen eyes easily picking out signs of passage. It was strange to find a carnivore in an area so denuded of life, but Urist wasn't going to question his good luck. Soon, the tracks brought him to a cave.
Urist examined the entrance to the cave warily, his mind suddenly churning as he wondered if the tracks had been that of a cub, or of a particularly small adult. He finally decided that he must chance it, or they probably wouldn't find any other source of food. He crept into the cave, keeping low and to one side; his dwarven eyes, long used to pitch black tunnels deep beneath the earth, dispelling the worst of the darkness.
Urist turned a sharp corner in the cave, and suddenly heard breathing. He glanced over his shoulder, then crept forward ever so slightly. Then, he could see the bear.
The bears.
There were three of them, a pair of parents and a large cub. They were curled up in tight little balls, packed closely together. Urist grimaced as he thought. He could certainly take a single bear. Maybe even two. But three was definitely close to odds most often deemed suicidal. Still, they must have food, and he'd come this far already. Urist crept up on the sleeping bears, and gripped his spear in a two-handed grasp.
Readying himself, he plunged the spear deep into the head of the nearest bear. Despite the strength and brutality of the blow, the bear bellowed even as it died, waking the other two bears. Urist yanked on his spear forcefully, but it was stuck fast in the bear skull, and he would have to brace himself to get it out. He didn't have the time, as the other two bears were roused and angry. The cub dashed at him, and Urist let go of his spear reluctantly as he rolled away.
Urist slid back, neatly dodging a swiping set of claws, and drew his dagger from its sheathe. He slashed at the cub, scoring a minor hit on the side of its paw. The living adult circled warily, sniffing and growling at Urist. Urist twirled around the cub as it charged again, and sunk his dagger deep into its exposed back. The cub squealed and scampered away. With this momentary distraction, the adult charged in, bowling over Urist with the force of its charge.
Urist kept rolling, the snapping jaws just barely missing him. He rolled back and up onto his feet, dagger held in a reverse stabbing grip. The bear stopped its headlong rush, and backed up slowly, its beady, porcine eyes surveying him with hate. The cub scrambled behind the bear, mewling and squealing in fear. Urist looked at the big, sturdy bear, then over its shoulder at its injured cub. The bear saw him looking at the cub, and reared up on its back legs, roaring ferociously, spittle flying from its jaws.
Urist stepped over to the dead bear, keeping his eyes on the still living adult. He yanked his spear out, all the while watching the bear. It sank back down onto all fours, and just watched him, its eyes burning into him. Urist grimaced again, and grabbed the dead bear's paw with one hand, the other pointing his spear at the other bear. He slowly started dragging the corpse toward the cave mouth.
The living bear finally saw what he was doing, and reared up again, bellowing in rage. The cub mewled again, and the bear sank down, almost resignedly, and watched Urist drag its' mate from the cave. Right when Urist was about to get the dead bear onto the snow, the adult charged out, and Urist dashed away from the corpse, turning and bracing his spear. The bear wasn't interested in him though, instead it knelt down, and snuffled at its mate's corpse gently for a few moments.
Finally, with a long and mournful roar, the bear turned back and ambled into the cave. Urist waited for a few minutes, then started dragging the dead bear away again. It took Urist four hours to drag the bear all the way back to camp, for it was very heavy, but Urist didn't let himself take a break out of some strange sense of guilt and shame.
When he got it back into camp, Hans was gleeful. "I haven't seen a bear this big since I moved to Spearbreakers! This fella's monstrous! Good job, Urist! Good job!"
Urist grunted, not really wanting to accept the compliment. Instead he said, "Help me get it skinned and hung up to dry. We need to get moving as soon as possible before the snows begin."
Hans seemed to sense his friend's strange mood, and asked, "This wasn't a lone bear, was it?"
Urist shook his head, distressed, "No... No. Let's just get to work, I don't want to talk about it."
Hans nodded sagely, and they butchered the bear over the course of the night, hanging up choice pieces of meat to dry by the fire.
Urist dreamt of the wounded cub that night, and it was a fitful, unfulfilling sleep.
Kind of odd for Spearbreakers, but its just a side note on the journey to the Baron. So... Yeah.
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Topic: [34.11] Spearbreakers - It shudders and begins to move (Read 2273250 times)