The Shadow Wolf Sagas: Blade Breaker 1.42

Tis Thursday, and time for my weekly serial. So sit back and enjoy a tale of Ragnar Grimfang and the mean streets of Myrrhn.

Want to read the first post, follow this link.

Want to read last week’s post, follow this link.

A helpful guide.

“Go!” said Renoit, stroding purposefully toward the armoured Ogre, Varm. I felt a knot in the pit of my stomach as I turned and ran. I knew Renoit was a magnificent swordsman, but his blades looked like toothpicks for a monster like Varm. Cursing, I bounded up the stairs, heading deeper in the the Doxies Union headquarters.

Familiarity with the building worked in my favour. I had often worked here in my time under Madame Glorianna’s employ. I knew she had a secure office, I went there first.

I passed more than a few corpses, mostly bodyguards and staff. I recognized some. The Doxies Union had put up a valiant resistance, but they simply weren’t capable of handling an attack like this. Mobs, angry customers, small mercenary bands, and the occasional assassin were nothing compared to the Devout.

I heard screaming in more than a few places as I passed. I kept running. There would be a lot more screaming in the city if this Lord Torvul found Madame Glorianna and the waygate he was looking for.

Rounding a corner, I found a muscular devout holding down a pretty girl by the throat, eager for the rape. I didn’t even break stride. The Devout’s helm gave a satisfying crunch as my hammer came connected.  He fell over and the woman gave an enraged cry as she struggled up. As I kept running I heard the sound of something heavy smashing into metal.

I caught a flash of movement from an intersecting corridor and a bolt of some sort, from a Devout or a jumpy Doxie I could not be sure, just missed my head. I cursed myself for losing my helm.

The main entranvce to Madame Glorianna’s fortified office looked like an abattoir. Her bodyguards had gone down fighting, even taking a few of the Devout with them. I heard a voice from within. I took it all in and charged into the room, beseaching Skygge for silence.

I was two steps into the room before anyone noticed me. One of the Devout turned, and I clubbed him in the font of the helm with my hammer, hard enough to knock him off his feet. I saw thin man, scowling, turning away from a terrified looking madame Glorianna. I roared and drove my pick into the head of the second Devout in my way, as two more turned and lifted their shields.

“Lord Torvul, I hope,” I said, pointing my weapon at the thin man. The body of the second Devout crumpled the ground, blood leaking from the hole in his helm.

“Why would you hope such a thing?” asked the man. His voice was cold and casual, almost bored, as his eyes met mine. I saw power there, and a ruthless intelligence.

“Because I hate being wrong twice in one engagement,” I said.

He smiled. “I am indeed Lord Torvul,” He said. “I would ask your name, Nordan, but I doubt I will be using it again.” I started forward, aiming to leap over the two Devout shieldsmen in my way, but before I could take two steps Lord Torvul made a gesture and shouted a word of power. A wave of force smashed into me, sending me careening into the wall hard enough that I came out the other side. Head swimming, I tried to rise.


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