05-28-2017, 01:32 PM
As the day wore on, the shadowy forest started to grow dark. Odin slid off Sleipnir when he found a clearing large enough for a camp. Kneeling down on the ground, he summoned a campfire. Now for the biggest piece of magic he had pulled off since the first time he summoned Sleipnir. He focused his mind on the memory of Valhalla and the warriors that had been housed there. He brought one of the Einherjar into particular detail. Building his face, then his body, and finally, his equipment. When he finished, he opened his eyes and the man stood before him. Geir immediately dropped to a knee and bowed his head. "My lord."
"Stand, faithful servant," commanded Odin, and his order was promptly followed. "Wolves and other monsters hunt in these forests. I require you to watch over the camp for the night."
"My lord," Geir responded with a bang of his fist on his chest. Odin nodded and turned away from his sentinel. Then with a sigh, he worked on his final creation for the night: A pavilion.
The next morning they found a path leading in the direction of the river. It came with the risk of ambush or a trap, but traveling through virgin forest hadn't exactly kept Odin out of trouble so far. They didn't make it more than a mile before something moving in the underbrush ahead caught their eye. With a nod to Geir, the All-Father continued forward while the Einheriar slipped behind a tree and drew his bow.
Odin only had to get a little closer before he could make out what was lying in wait for him. Orcs. There were none where he came from, but they certainly looked like they were spawned from the jotnar. These particular ones didn't seem too intelligent. Odin could clearly make them out from 20 yards away.
"Hail beasts. I do not seek trouble but will bring you death if you leave me no further option," boomed Odin. There was a rustle, and one of the two orcs up ahead climbed out into the path and stood. He was only 5 feet tall but thick as a dwarf. He had two long, chipped tusks and was covered in pelts. One of them possibly human. The oversized axe that hung from his hand was cracked and rusted.
"Yoos hoomans don't scare us," he spat. Literally, due to a cleft palate. Suddenly, there was the twang of a bow from behind Odin and one to his right immediately after. He turned in time to see an arrow fly by his head. Geir's shot had hit the flanker in the arm and driven its aim off course. Intuition struck the old wizard like lightning, and he rolled off Sleipnir and onto the ground just as an axe spun through where his head had been a moment before. It sunk to the eye in a tree trunk when it hit.
He continued the roll until he was behind a tree, came to a crouch, and summoned Gungnir. The spear coalesced just in time for him to bring it up and block the axe of another flanker. Meanwhile, Geir dropped his bow, pulled out a wooden shield and hand axe, and charged forward with a shout. He lowered his shield and threw his full weight into the orc that had greeted them on the path. The stout greenie barely even had to take a step back. He grabbed the dead man's shield, ripped it away, and planted a big, bare foot in his chest. Gier was sent flying back into Sleipnir with an "oomph".
Odin couldn't dawdle with his opponent for long. He twisted his spear, bringing the sharp end down and the bottom end up across the orc's face. As he came to his feet, his shoulder rammed into the creature's chest, pushing it back. Now that he had the room to maneuver, he set his stance and struck out with the sharp end of Gungnir. It pierced the jowly, green neck and sprayed black blood everywhere. The greenie that had been shot by Gier had been trying to sneak up behind Odin with a jagged hunting knife in his one good hand. The All-Father was too experienced to forget the foe, however. He spun the spear in a wide arc and spun to face his adversary. The blade found unprotected belly and spilled putrid smelling guts across the forest floor.
Back on the path, another orc joined its leader, handing him a spare axe. Then they prowled toward the downed warrior. Grier was dazed and didn't react until they were nearly on top of him. With a sound as much growl as neigh, Sleipnir reared up, gleaming, steel tipped hooves threatening to break bones. Luckily, Geir managed to roll out of the way before Sleipnir came slamming down like thunder. Four of the horse's eight great hooves landed on the newest foe and crushed its skull, ribs, and a leg. The larger, more experience orc, however, sidestepped the attack and brought his axe along Sleipnir's flank. The cut was long but shallow.
Odin made it back to the path just in time to see a meaty, green fist gripping his wounded mount's mane. With a snarl, the god leapt ten feet into the air and brought his spear up above his head. The orc turned and gave Odin a toothy grin. Suddenly, Geir sprang from the bush he had rolled into with a knife in hand. The blade sank deep into the greenskin's hamstring. It roared and fell back onto its ass just as Odin landed and drove Gungnir through its thick chest.
"Yoos no stupid hooman," it gurgled, black blood spilling out its mouth as it talked. Then it grabbed the shaft of the spear, trying to rise, before shuddering and collapsing, dead.
Odin and Geir sighed in relief. Not all of them got out unwounded, however. Odin turned his eyes to Sleipnir and examined the wound. It wasn't serious, but he wouldn't be serving as a mount anytime soon. "Get some rest old boy," Odin said softly as he returned the horse to omnilium.
It only took a few more hours on foot before they reached the bank of a wide, slow-moving river.
"Stand, faithful servant," commanded Odin, and his order was promptly followed. "Wolves and other monsters hunt in these forests. I require you to watch over the camp for the night."
"My lord," Geir responded with a bang of his fist on his chest. Odin nodded and turned away from his sentinel. Then with a sigh, he worked on his final creation for the night: A pavilion.
The next morning they found a path leading in the direction of the river. It came with the risk of ambush or a trap, but traveling through virgin forest hadn't exactly kept Odin out of trouble so far. They didn't make it more than a mile before something moving in the underbrush ahead caught their eye. With a nod to Geir, the All-Father continued forward while the Einheriar slipped behind a tree and drew his bow.
Odin only had to get a little closer before he could make out what was lying in wait for him. Orcs. There were none where he came from, but they certainly looked like they were spawned from the jotnar. These particular ones didn't seem too intelligent. Odin could clearly make them out from 20 yards away.
"Hail beasts. I do not seek trouble but will bring you death if you leave me no further option," boomed Odin. There was a rustle, and one of the two orcs up ahead climbed out into the path and stood. He was only 5 feet tall but thick as a dwarf. He had two long, chipped tusks and was covered in pelts. One of them possibly human. The oversized axe that hung from his hand was cracked and rusted.
"Yoos hoomans don't scare us," he spat. Literally, due to a cleft palate. Suddenly, there was the twang of a bow from behind Odin and one to his right immediately after. He turned in time to see an arrow fly by his head. Geir's shot had hit the flanker in the arm and driven its aim off course. Intuition struck the old wizard like lightning, and he rolled off Sleipnir and onto the ground just as an axe spun through where his head had been a moment before. It sunk to the eye in a tree trunk when it hit.
He continued the roll until he was behind a tree, came to a crouch, and summoned Gungnir. The spear coalesced just in time for him to bring it up and block the axe of another flanker. Meanwhile, Geir dropped his bow, pulled out a wooden shield and hand axe, and charged forward with a shout. He lowered his shield and threw his full weight into the orc that had greeted them on the path. The stout greenie barely even had to take a step back. He grabbed the dead man's shield, ripped it away, and planted a big, bare foot in his chest. Gier was sent flying back into Sleipnir with an "oomph".
Odin couldn't dawdle with his opponent for long. He twisted his spear, bringing the sharp end down and the bottom end up across the orc's face. As he came to his feet, his shoulder rammed into the creature's chest, pushing it back. Now that he had the room to maneuver, he set his stance and struck out with the sharp end of Gungnir. It pierced the jowly, green neck and sprayed black blood everywhere. The greenie that had been shot by Gier had been trying to sneak up behind Odin with a jagged hunting knife in his one good hand. The All-Father was too experienced to forget the foe, however. He spun the spear in a wide arc and spun to face his adversary. The blade found unprotected belly and spilled putrid smelling guts across the forest floor.
Back on the path, another orc joined its leader, handing him a spare axe. Then they prowled toward the downed warrior. Grier was dazed and didn't react until they were nearly on top of him. With a sound as much growl as neigh, Sleipnir reared up, gleaming, steel tipped hooves threatening to break bones. Luckily, Geir managed to roll out of the way before Sleipnir came slamming down like thunder. Four of the horse's eight great hooves landed on the newest foe and crushed its skull, ribs, and a leg. The larger, more experience orc, however, sidestepped the attack and brought his axe along Sleipnir's flank. The cut was long but shallow.
Odin made it back to the path just in time to see a meaty, green fist gripping his wounded mount's mane. With a snarl, the god leapt ten feet into the air and brought his spear up above his head. The orc turned and gave Odin a toothy grin. Suddenly, Geir sprang from the bush he had rolled into with a knife in hand. The blade sank deep into the greenskin's hamstring. It roared and fell back onto its ass just as Odin landed and drove Gungnir through its thick chest.
"Yoos no stupid hooman," it gurgled, black blood spilling out its mouth as it talked. Then it grabbed the shaft of the spear, trying to rise, before shuddering and collapsing, dead.
Odin and Geir sighed in relief. Not all of them got out unwounded, however. Odin turned his eyes to Sleipnir and examined the wound. It wasn't serious, but he wouldn't be serving as a mount anytime soon. "Get some rest old boy," Odin said softly as he returned the horse to omnilium.
It only took a few more hours on foot before they reached the bank of a wide, slow-moving river.