I have made my choice, my resolve has been reinforced. I chide myself for not holding a steady hand in my extermination of the heretics, as they have no reason to not uphold the common decencies of civilized folk.
I make my way to the town of Raceglitter, a place where the northlanders have apparently decided to stave off the cold wind with warm ale and warmer women. A bordello on the edge of town is my first goal.
Inside, the rowdy shouts of drunken men were met and measured by the shrill laughs of women who wore only the small trinkets and tattoos that decorated their cheap flesh. The few customers on the lower levels were of little importance, and were forcibly removed from their sins in a matter of moments.
The commotion had awakened some of the customers upstairs, however. Strong men began to stick their heads out of their rented rooms to see what had caused the sudden change in the sound from downstairs. I made my way up the staircase to the second level, and cut off the head of the first barbarian in line before he could finish his cry of alarm. The others quickly got back inside their rooms and began scrounging for the equipment they had removed in order to take warmth from their companions.
The first man to step out of his room must have had mixed parentage on a remarkable scale. I could have sworn upon my blade that he was half bear.
His massive frame was covered only partly by a rough chain shirt that he had tossed on to confront me. A significant portion of his body was covered only by a mat of curly hair that looked dense enough to hide a dagger in.
I intended to hide a sword in it.
He bellowed at me in a grumbling roar of heretical words, and hefted a massive iron crossbow in his paw of a hand. The first bolt was heavy and poorly shaped, and my blade was at the ready. I deflected its deadly head away from me, and it clattered to the wooden floor a few steps behind.
But the second shot was too fast for me to prepare for. A burning snake crawled up my arm and bit into my head as the bolt sank into my left elbow. My stomach seemed to drop away as a wet popping sound came from the area of impact.
My arm fell limply to my side as the bear-man laughed heartily at my injury. His joy was likely enhanced by whatever he had been drinking earlier in the day, and it was with thanks to whoever had brewed this man's drink that I moved forward.
I was slower than my usual, due to my inexperience in carrying such a massive blade with only one hand, but I was fast enough to fight a drunkard. His revelry was cut short as I came at him, and his arm was cut shorter. It flew into the air over the balcony, and began its descent to the lower floor just as its owner toppled to the side and followed it.
He crashed through the protective railing and slammed into the floor below. I leapt upon his prone form, steadying my blade in the crook of my arm. It sank straight through his barbarian-made armor and forged a path straight to the hunter's massive heart.
I cleared out the other patrons in short order, and made my way into the rest of town. Alarms had begun to sound around the locality, and armed guards soon blocked my path.
But these were barbarians, not trained warriors. Their brawn and bulk was all they had, and it was not enough to match my many years of training. They fell like wheat before the farmer's scythe, lying at my feet in a penance they could not acheive in life.
More warriors challenged me, and more northlanders fell to feed the earth. The streets were almost bare, so I began hunting down those who hid within their houses and shops, trying to fend off the inevitable by presenting a material barrier against spiritual justice.
I broke down the door to a weaponry shop, and surveyed the shop. In the corner sat the shopkeeper, cradling something in his arms. My mind cried out in an urgency I had rarely felt before in my life. But my path had been chosen, and I could not take back the footfalls that had led me down it.
"The search for tranquility takes a lifetime."
-- Unknown
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Topic: Death and Glory! (Read 58504 times)