06-12-2009, 08:57 AM
The black wolf nodded solemnly. So, she believed that now she had the power. It was strange...for how much he irrationally feared and respected the weapon, he did not perceive it as something supernatural. She appreciated the blade more deeply than he did. Perhaps that was to be expected, she was a warrior. His great-great-grandson, Skoll, had been a warrior as well. He, however, had never been that. His berserk fury in his life before lycanthropy had made him formidable, but his abilities later came in raw strength compounded by years and years of murder...he was not a warrior, but a killer. The distinction was important. The thing he had become was simpler, more narrow. A warrior could do many things relating to combat, could control its lethality, protect as well as destroy. A killer could do one thing, only.
"Perhaps you are right, and this dream holds significance to your span outside of it. As for me, I know nothing of what awaits me beyond this. My memory insists that HawkWind and his creation are entirely gone, which means I may not even be the wolf whose form I wear and whose memories I share. Regardless of whose essence I am, I am HawkWind here, and he was needed to help you. If its his part that must be played, however, VoidFane's falls to me, as well." The ground began to tremor. "We'll be going back shortly. Vanquish the monster. When you have, do not let him escape you by any means. Follow him into the bog, if you must. Be sure to take his head." He smiled wanly. "I do not wish to wake again."
The ground shook, and the sun that had peaked out over the steel walls sank below them again, and all was blackness. When light next illuminated the landscape, it was a less hellish one, though still far from appealing. It was nearing dusk, though yellow light still filtered down through the thick brambles of the swamp canopy. Slick mud squished underfoot and a black shape moved between the gnarled trunks of the stunted trees. There was a hill in the midst of this, thick with weeds, probably the only place with good footing in a hundred yards. Cwmfen appeared into this place with the hill at her back, and the vast, spider-like shape before her. A shaft of light caught its face, and one bright, dead eye was evident from between branches. The giant stepped into the open, its face expressionless. A corpse lay in the mud behind it.
"You possess the blade that struck me down," it said hollowly. "You are smaller than its last wielder, and the blade is large...your power is--most likely--still insufficient to kill me." Its fingers curled into rigid claws, ending in long, curved, wicked tips. "You should have run with them, if you wanted to lengthen their lives. I will remove you, and take the father and children." He approached her, taking great strides through the muck.
"Perhaps you are right, and this dream holds significance to your span outside of it. As for me, I know nothing of what awaits me beyond this. My memory insists that HawkWind and his creation are entirely gone, which means I may not even be the wolf whose form I wear and whose memories I share. Regardless of whose essence I am, I am HawkWind here, and he was needed to help you. If its his part that must be played, however, VoidFane's falls to me, as well." The ground began to tremor. "We'll be going back shortly. Vanquish the monster. When you have, do not let him escape you by any means. Follow him into the bog, if you must. Be sure to take his head." He smiled wanly. "I do not wish to wake again."
The ground shook, and the sun that had peaked out over the steel walls sank below them again, and all was blackness. When light next illuminated the landscape, it was a less hellish one, though still far from appealing. It was nearing dusk, though yellow light still filtered down through the thick brambles of the swamp canopy. Slick mud squished underfoot and a black shape moved between the gnarled trunks of the stunted trees. There was a hill in the midst of this, thick with weeds, probably the only place with good footing in a hundred yards. Cwmfen appeared into this place with the hill at her back, and the vast, spider-like shape before her. A shaft of light caught its face, and one bright, dead eye was evident from between branches. The giant stepped into the open, its face expressionless. A corpse lay in the mud behind it.
"You possess the blade that struck me down," it said hollowly. "You are smaller than its last wielder, and the blade is large...your power is--most likely--still insufficient to kill me." Its fingers curled into rigid claws, ending in long, curved, wicked tips. "You should have run with them, if you wanted to lengthen their lives. I will remove you, and take the father and children." He approached her, taking great strides through the muck.