"Back in the dirt." Came Brulk's voice, jerking the bloodied javellin from the Gauradan's corpse. Some big, wild bastard. Tusks through his nose and ears, and now a great big hole through his chest. He might o' liked it, Brulk reckoned, if it hadn't ment his death. A few feet away, Angelnarth was standing by the corpse of another savage.
Brulk jerked out his chin towards his companion, trudging over using the javellin as a walking stick. "Reckon 'em far?" He asked. The knight shook his head. "I know not. Come, we must keep moving." With a grunt, Brulk followed after. Half jogging, half scrambling through the thick layers of snow. He'd never been one for plated armour, the noise it caused and how much it held a man down outweighed the good of protection, but out here it was silent. Lost amidst the various calls of nature and beast.
The duo soon reached a hilltop, and Angelnarth drew to a stop. Brulk did the same, squatting into a half-crouch and holding his javellin ready. "Could it be.." came his companions voice, curious and chill as the weather. Brulk shifted up towards him, peering down into the small valley. Three of 'em stood there, four including one of 'ems wolf. "Could that be them?" asked the Knight. Brulk drew his dagger, the weapon he'd planned to use to gut fish 'fore his companions request for assistance, and jabbed at the air. "Chief." He pointed at the central savage. "Look at 'em furs. Some kind o' Alpha wolf, more'n likely." His dagger shifted left. "Some kind o' Witchman.." then to the wolf. "And his pet." Then finally onto the far right. "More'n likely the chief's chosen man. Reckon him a decent name amongst 'em fighters."
Angelnarth looked at the wolf and smiled. "I'm not hunter.." Then looked at Brulk. "But sometimes I hunt down a worthy prey!" Before he could swear, the knight was hurtling down the hillside brandishing a sword in each hand. One of 'em looked Elvish, by Brulk's reckoning, and the other southern steel. He charged straight into who Brulk had taken for the chosen man, and sent him reeling to the ground in a slash of both blades.
"Ffyc!" snarled Brulk, leaping the edge of the hill and sliding down on his arse. Jerking himself back up right, his tossed the javellin against the wolf. Piercing it's carcass into the snowy dirt, and making it yelp. It's master, who Brulk had taken for the Seer, turned on him. He'd a shoddy axe in one hand, and some kind of rough-shaped tusk in the other. Continuing the momentum gained from throwing his javellin, Brulk charged headlong into his newest foe, launching his shield into his foes chest and sending him tumbling back.
"Ymladd!" He called, sticking out his tongue and drawing his broadsword. "Dewch I Farw!" The savage hurtling towards him, but Brulk caught the blows against his shield. Ducking right, and twisting his wrist to cut the swords tip into his foes leg. "Gwaedu!" He yelled, seeing the blood spurt from the wound. His foe stumbled, then hurled his axe over head and down onto Brulk. He caught it with his blade, and thrust his shield up into the wolf-mans neck sending him to the floor.
"Brulk! A sword, quickly!" Called Angelnarth. Brulk's head jerked round, catching sight of his companion laid amongst the snow. The Chief stood a few feet away from him, one of the knights swords embedded in his chest and snarling something fierce. He could of charged the chief himself, but he reckoned it Angelnarth's task. He tossed his sword to the ground beside the knight, drew a knife from his bracer, and set his mind back on his own task.
Coughing and spluttering, the seer glared up at him. Hate in his eyes, beastial and natural. Brulk reckoned it fair, but not fair enough to spare him from the First Door. He plunged the knife into his foes neck, and cut through an inch or two until the snarling stopped. "Back in the dirt." he muttered, turning back to check on his companions success.
The Chief lay on the floor, the snow beside him dowsed in blood. Brulk got up, snatching the shaped lump of tusk from the seer, and trudge over to Angelnarth. "Thanks.." came the breathless words from the knight, holding out Brulks sword for the offering. The hillman's eye crept over the corspe, more'n a dozen rips and gouges spread over his chest. His eye then stopped on his companions face, and he slapped him on the arm. "Reckon I'm getting a liking for you, Furious." He took his sword back, and snarled up at the tall fellow. "I like you too, Brulk. I think.."
