At first glance one would not take Regner as one to spend his nights gazing at the moon, but recently the elderly warrior had found himself doing such all too often. With little to occupy his days Regner found his sleeping pattern growing more and more irregular and it wasn't uncommon nowadays to find him awake late at night, gazing at the stars and moon and contemplating his life.
He was broken out of such a reverie By a twin set of calls from close by, calls ringing of violence and bloodshed, of threats to the pack that Regner now called his home.
Old habits took hold and without thought for his age or condition Regner was off, shield and axe drawn as he sprinted towards the conflict. His leg started twinging almost immediately but the pain was ignored as Regner's blood began to pound at the thought of a battle. Despite his age Regner was a warrior at heart and the day he stopped fighting would be the day that he was physically unable to carry on.
The darkness lent a confusing edge to the battle and Regner's eyes zeroed in on the conflict, noting a large wolf that he didn’t recognise by sight but identified by scent as his alpha's kin hauling an attacker away from the main battle, throwing the unfortunate against a tree. Clearly the boy could take care of himself so Regner turned away, growling as he approached the main body of enemies until he noticed it out of the corner of his eye.
One of the raiders and broken off and was striding towards the pair separated from the main fight, twin blades in his hands and murder in his eyes. HWile the youth seemed competent Regner was loath to leave a comrade to unfair odds so he charged forward with an ear-splitting roar, "Flygt eller dø!"He cried out as he charged to blindside the raider, cutting his flanking attempt short.
There is little that can stop a 400 pound ovcharka in full charge and the raider wisely seemed to realise this, nimbly darting down and to the side to dodge an axe swing that would have taken his head off. The dog swung to the side, bringing his weapons up to bear and Regner responded in kind, shield raising both to act as a counterweight to still his momentum and to block a fivesome of rapid strikes, the blades rattling the wood and steel of the shield like rain on a tin roof.
Any battle with Regner involved was a noisy thing; the elderly male had a powerful set of lungs and was fond of using them as he did now, letting out a powerful roar as he charged forward, catching the raider straight in the chest with his shield and carrying him along as Regner ran. In an impressive display of acrobatics the raider managed to free himself from the shield and dodge Regner's backup axe strike, the heavy weapon going high and biting deep into a tree that Regner had intended to flatten his opponent against.
Not one to waste an opportunity the raider darted forward, harrying Regner with a series of fast strikes before the elderly male could pull his weapon free. Many of the weak but fast strikes skidded off the treated leather of Regner's jerkin but all the same Regenr felt several wounds opened up along his right arm and leg as well as one lucky shot than skimmed the centre of his chest.
Regner responded brutally, pulling a dagger out of a shoulder sheath and slamming it into his enemies forearm as another strike came inwards, halting the attack. Regner took advantage of the pain temporarily stunning his opponent and followed up with a powerful kick to the stomach, sending his opponent staggering backwards several feet and giving Regenr enough breathing room to yank his axe free of the tree in a cloud of splinters and sap. Rearmed Regner stalked forward, arms bearing shield and axe outstretched as he growled angrily at the raider, daring him to come forward with the confidence of a younger man, and which perhaps was best left to younger men as Regner no longer had the speed to reliably pull off the manoeuvre he intended to do, which would leave the ovcharka open to some blows if assistance from an outside source was not found.
Image courtesy of UmbraDeNoapte-Stock
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