Among the Fallen

                     

                              

Chapter I: The Gorhh

Blood Paws threw himself down by the campfire, “We will go to war soon.”

His comrade Bright Fang was tending the fire, “How do you reckon that?”

“The bark on the trees is starting to look tasty, the rations are low.”

Bright Fang’s mouth began to water at the thought of fresh bark, 
“Aye.”

“What are we eating tonight Bright Fang?”

"Its called, 'whatever we can pull from the ground,' plus some random bones from what I hope are animals."

“Ah piss, never been a fan of that.”

“Blood Paws, who do you reckon our armies will be fixed at for this year’s raids?”

“I hear the Sillar are eating like Kings.”

“No one is sure, but the word is they made contact with a new tribe. I imagine the Sythe and Crezal armies won’t be far behind us.”

“You sure, the Crezal always last the longest.”

“Aye, but not this time, I hear they have taken to eating their prized horses. I best sharpen my axe, it’s a bit too dull for my liking.”

“Then sharpen your axe, be gone from here brother and take Red Eye. I don’t like the looks hes giving me. He keeps licking his chops at me, its unnerving.”

“Don’t worry about Red Eye, he means well, he won’t rip your throat out, not yet anyway.” Bright Fang didn’t laugh and an awkward silence ensued. “Bah, you never get my humor.  Come on old boy, let’s get this axe sharpened. “

Blood Paws left the campfire and the colossal wolf Red Eye followed him.  Blood Paws was the only soldier amongst the Gorhh that was able to keep a pet. They weren’t forbidden, but generally someone they would only fight a season or two before they’d be sacrificed to feed the tribe. Blood Paws has killed several men that have found themselves hungry enough to attempt to eat his wolf. Blood Paws  and Red Eye have some bond beyond the knowledge of this world. 

Blood Paws walked the road to Gororoth Castle where their mighty forge was kept. The best warriors of the Gorhhrothi are added to the furnace upon their death. They say the axes and swords forged from this furnace hold the souls of fallen Gorhhrothi. He ran his hand along his battle axe to keep it warm and protect it from the cold. You never know when you will have to slay a man when on the road and a cold blade is a brittle one. Blood Paws began to sing to himself,

“Oh the hills so bright and white

The rock is black as frosty night

Never to return from here

The war has come, the war has come

Shout up high, shout up high

The war has come, the war has come

Shake the ground with fiery step

Death will come, death will come

Weep not my wife, weep not my son

Food will come, food will come.”

Red Eye and Blood Paws reached the great stone gates of Gororoth. Blood Paws could never help but grin every time he approached them. They always made him think of food, the great bounty of war.

The hierarchy of the Gorhhrothi is quite interesting in that it is determined by kills in battle. The Omega is the Warlord of the Gorhhrothi and currently, the Black Tongue holds this position. Aptly named due to his strange battle ceremony considering he eats the ash of warriors he has slain. He believes he gains the strength of those he devours. It leaves his mouth stained a grim black and his breath smells of ash and death. Under the Omega are the Alphas which serve as commanders on the battlefield. Each Alpha has a Wolf Sergeant which makes sure the soldiers under him, which are known as Wolves, are kept in check. The Omega is identified by the large banner upon his back which bears his symbol. In the case of the current Omega it is the Black Tongue upon a white banner. The Omega is also known to wear a Bear Head and a cloak of bear hide on occasion. Alphas on the other hand carry a massive horn into battle. It is made out of Mammoth tusk, Mammoths have been extinct for some many years. And so the horns are passed down and kept safe by the Alphas. The Alpha uses the Horn Blasts in order to dictate orders on the battlefield. The Wolf Sergeant makes sure the individual Wolves follow orders. Wolf Sergeants are always known to wear a Wolf Head into battle.

Blood Paws slammed his meaty fist into the cold stone gate of the Gororoth. A guard from the wall called down “Who knocks upon our gate, name and rank.”

“Blood Paw, Alpha.” The gates shuddered and pulled back slowly, dust billowed underneath them. The awesome sight of the Gororoth was before him and the great forge brought warmth to the castle. Blood Paws took in a deep breath; he could smell the sweet smell of sweat mixed with iron. He sat down and lovingly sharpened his battle axe. It meant much to him; it had saved his life and through the process of war, provided food.

As he walked back to camp he heard the great horn blast of the Gororoth. The Alpha’s were summoned to council; we were to go to war. This put a kick in Blood Paws step as he began to think of all the sweet foods they’d take from the Sillar. He began to sing the song again, repeating the verse. “Food will come, Food will come.”

Blood Paws and Red Eye ate bone and grass soup with Bright Fang. It made him eager to march to war and get some real food. Blood Paws made his way back to the Gororoth to attend the council. He told Red Eye to wait back at camp, but Red Eye never listens. He made his way to the castle keep and pushed aside the thick wooden doors. Before him sat Omega Black Tongue and the Alphas, they were around a table with a map laid out.

Omega Black Tongue stood up, “You are late Blood Paws, always late…” His voice shook the chamber room; he blotted out the candle light standing at near 8 feet tall and about as wide as a barn door.

Blood Paws kneeled, “I am sorry Lord Omega.”

“You are forgiven, now let’s discuss our plans; Alpha Far Howl what is our fighting strength.”

“Five thousand Lord Omega,” he sneered at Blood Paws, “and one battle hound.”

“Then it is true, our numbers are dwindling, we won’t be able to stay at this pace for long.”

A unanimous grumble issued through the chamber.

Alpha Dark Mane spoke up, “Lord Omega, my scouts have returned, they discovered large food stores amongst the Sillar’s cities; and uh, hmm.”

Omega Black Tongue slammed his fist into the table denting the wood and shaking the ceiling, “out with it!”

“The Sillar have employed Heavy Calvary, Knights sir, and well armored.”

“The Sillar have never used horses or armor before, why start now?”

“I do not know Lord Omega, perhaps they are trading with the south?”

“Doubtful, there is nothing of worth in these lands to them; Alpha Iron Eye, send word to the blacksmiths tell them their Lord Omega demands two thousand Halberds be made.”

Alpha Iron Eye left his seat and bowed, “As you wish Lord Omega.”

“We will march from here in two weeks’ time; now be gone brothers.” Blood Paws slowly walked back to camp, Red Eye was waiting outside the gates of Gororoth.

He yawned and got up as he saw the gate open. “I thought I told you to stay, hmm I can't stay mad at you at any rate. You look hungry old boy, don’t worry we will eat soon, and maybe even some horse” Red Eye licked his chops at the sound of that; it’s been a long time since he had horse.

Blood Paws began to sing again,

“Sad hills sad day

No one knows why it’s this way

We praise death and we praise war

So that we may live once more

Till our souls depart to the lone shore.”

Two weeks passed till Blood Paws saw the White Banner bearing the Black Tongue approach his camp. A guard of the Omega held this giant banner which was to be worn on Omega Black Tongue’s back in the upcoming war. The wood shaft was painted white and covered with bloody hand prints. The guard approached Blood Paws and bowed, “Hail Alpha Blood Paws.” I knew what was asked of me, they needed my blood to prove my allegiance and the allegiance of my Wolves. I ran my hand along the edge of my battle axe until the blade became coated in warm crimson. The guard lifted the banner toward me. I gripped it firmly, staining the white wood with my bloody hand.

“Thank you Alpha Blood Paws, we set off tomorrow,” With that he walked off.

“Hear that old Red Eye, we march to war on the morrow.”

Blood Paws sat down with a smile on his face and scratched Red Eye behind the ears. Blood Paws gripped his battle axe tightly in his sleep as he dreamt of glorious battle and delicious food. Chopping down a door with his Axe to reveal a room filled to the brim with meat and cheese. He woke up; he wiped the drool from his mouth and shoulder and caressed his battle axe. It’d be a good day today, and a damn fine day to march. He strut out of his tent and into the middle of his camp, “Blood Paw's Wolves!” They gathered around to hear their Alpha speak.

“Today we march to War, if you leave here; tis likely you will not return; Do not be troubled, you will be one less mouth to feed, haha.” Everybody laughed, it was all too true, War did not just bring food, but it brought death which allowed greater rations. “We will show the Omega that Blood Paw’s Wolves are the hungriest and the bloodiest; Onward my brave wolves we will feast on the flesh of horse and devour the Sillar’s warehouse stores.” With that everyone gathered their gear and prepared to march in formation. Blood Paws stood at the head, Bright Fang his Wolf Sergeant stood beside him. The Wolves stood in a column 5 Wolves wide and 100 Wolves long, 500 Wolves total. Blood Paws issued two horn blasts from the massive tusk, blackened with age, the endings bound with iron. It is also inscribed with the name and symbol of the Alphas that held it before, when Blood Paws dies his name and symbol, the Red Bear Paw, will be inscribed upon the horn.

Bright Fang shouted aloud, “Wolves forward, to war!”

The 500 Wolves set off and began to chant the only song worth marching to.

“Oh the hills so bright and white

The rock is black as frosty night

Never to return from here

The war has come, The war has come

Shout up high, Shout up high

The war has come, The war has come

Shake the ground with fiery step

Death will come, Death will come

Weep not my wife, Weep not my son

Food will come, Food will come

Axe through bone and Teeth through meat

Food will come, Food will come

Foot through door and Food in hand

The bounties won, The bounties won

Weep not my Wolves, Weep not my Lord

The War is won, The War is won!”

Each Alpha was assigned a village or city to raid. They created a wave like attack plan where they would hit every village on their way to the enemy capital where they would attack as one force. The sacking of the enemy Capital would be the end of this Campaign and would serve them well during the long winter. They were nearing their first target, a small village on the edge of the enemy borders. They had been marching for three days. They were already out of the rations they were sent with and had to eat it all just to keep up the march. They did collect a couple berry bushes on the way, but it wasn’t enough to pass around to everyone. Blood Paws stopped and looked at the sky and then the forest beside them. “Halt, something is amiss here, Bright Fang do you smell it?”

“Aye that stench, salt and iron, smells like” An arrow volley from amongst the trees tore through the Wolf formation, “Sythe! Shields up, shields up!”

Blood Paws let out a great blast of his horn and all the birds in the trees went a flight. And many were pierced by arrows as the second volley came. Many Sythe with curved blade and hook in hand poured from the forest. Some thousand at least and they let out a screeching roar as they jumped into the Wolves. A tomahawk volley was sent to, taking down many of the approaching Sythe. The axe throwers would retrieve their tomahawks once the battle was done, they’d never leave them behind at any rate. Blood Paws charged into the fray. Bright Fang guarded his back as they tore through the Sythe ranks. Blood Paws swung his mighty axe in the air and slammed it upon the Sythe before him. It cleaved through his hook, sword, and shoulder until it hit his heart, killing him instantly. The blood kept his blade warm in the frosty breeze and it dripped down his axe warming his hands.

“Bright fang, collect his ear, I believe my axe shredded his other one.”

Generally the Gorhhrathi will take the ears of those they have slain in order to keep track of their kills. They can never sleep in battle; they must slaughter or fall in rank. Red Eye had been off hunting, as he often does when they march to war. His sense of smell is too good and Blood Paws too smelly for him to lose his scent. A Sythe assassin dressed in all white was sneaking low to the ground in an attempt to slay Blood Paws. Bright Fang was currently occupied and Blood Paws back was open to be back stabbed. As the Sythe lunged forward Red Eye jumped on him and ripped out his throat. Red Eye then began to eat the fresh meat as a starving wolf is want to do. The neck wound steamed in the cold air and painted Red Eye's mouth a bloody red.

The cold was at my heels. It propelled me forward. I could not stop or the hungering cold would consume me. I tore an arrow out of my side, Red Eye began to lick the wound.

“Don’t worry old boy, it’s just a flesh wound, Bright Fang status report.”

“We have suffered many losses, at least 200 wolves so far.”

Blood Paws charged back into the fray, which had been pushed deep into the forest. “Let’s make these piss ants retreat!”

The trees and snow were painted red. Bodies and limbs were strewn across the forest floor. Many of them already beginning to freeze over, icy graves preserved in horror for all time. Bodies are very rarely buried up in the north, they are generally left to rot or be eaten by animals. Blood Paws began hacking through the enemy Sythe in a frenzy. It was a tornado of blood and limbs. Red Eye would occasionally jump and grab an arm that was hacked off before it hit the ground. As if they were playing some grim version of fetch. And then Blood Paws faced a woman. She was beautiful, long blond hair spilled over her fur cloak, blood and mud smeared around her eyes. Dark marbles staring at him, figuring out how to kill him. He nearly dropped his axe. She reminded him of his wife. She fell to the cold many years ago and he had never taken another since. He remembered the warmth of her breath upon his neck. Her embrace in the cold night. Her kind words before he set off to War. He loved that girl.

A tear ran down Blood Paws' cheek. The ruthless barbarian wasn't numb. He felt sorrow after all. The Sythe woman did not show sympathy, she swung her sword around in an attempt to cleave his head. Bright Fang jumped forward out of nowhere sensing his friend's danger and blocked the blow partially. Blood Paws took a slash to his shoulder instead of a cleave to his neck. It gushed profusely and his arm hung limp. Bright Fang kicked the Sythe back and roared at his Wolves.

“To the Alpha, regroup to the Alpha, double column!” The Wolves all around the forest encircled Bright Fang and Blood Paws, a massive wall of Gorhhrothi.

“Forward lads, we end this now.” The Sythe were demoralized, they had lost near 400 men already, they could not suffer any more, and fled. Blood Paws fell to his knees and dug his bloody hands deep into the snow. He burned with fire and his hands melted the snow creating a pink pool of water. Red Eye slurped the bloody water happily, not realizing his master’s grief.

Bright Fang approached Blood Paws still kneeling upon the earth. “Blood Paws, the Wolves found some Sythe scum with leg wounds, too slow and stupid to flee or slit their own throats.”

“Break their arms and tie them to a tree, let the wolves of the wild feast upon them.”

“As you wish Alpha Blood Paws.”

“We stop here tonight, set fires and sentries. I don’t want any more surprises. Have the wounded prepared for the morrow, any unable to march will be left behind; search for rations among the bodies of the Sythe.”

Bright Fang bowed and walked away. They camped down the road some ways to avoid the vile stench of death and rot. No one slept well, too on edge after the ambush today. Blood Paws was stuck in a trance of sorrow the likes of which no one knew. But how could they. They call him Blood Paws because of what he did, in rage, in grief. He had just returned from a successful campaign. He had a sack of food slung over his shoulder, his battle axe in the other. He came to his cottage to find no one home. He found a note on his table. It said that his wife had fallen ill and was being held in the Hospital Chambers of the Gororoth. Blood Paw's heart dropped so deep that he nearly felt it touch the depths of hell. He dropped the sack of food from his hand, but his axe he held painfully tight. He ran to the Gororoth in a frenzy of grief, love, and anger. He kicked in the door of the Hospital Chamber to find his wife upon one of the many sick beds. Three healers surrounded her.

Blood Paws yelled, “Whats wrong, whats wrong with my Love.” He ran to her, dropped his axe beside the bed, and held her hand in both of his. “My Love what has befallen you, look at me my Love.”

She opened her eyes just barely and smiled. “My Beloved... You have returned to me, we got the report of Farrow Creek battle, they thought you amongst the dead, but I knew... No one could kill my Beloved.”

Blood Paws began to weep, he kissed her forehead, it was death cold, “That’s right my Love, no power in this verse or the next can keep us apart.”

“You remember that my Love, my life will depart from here, but my soul will be with you. Always with you, Always my Love…”

In that instant she was gone from this world. Her was life so fragile yet so powerful to this war torn man. What one can mean to another, the bond between two, can tear a hole between time and space. Blood Paws wept. Then his sorrow turned into fury, into rage. “My Love… Why didn’t you save her?” He mumbled it, barely audible.

He stood up and spoke louder like a rising wave, “Why did you fail your only duty; I upheld my duty and you failed your single task.” He gripped his battle axe in both hands. “You let her die, you let her life slip through your fingers, you will feel my pain.” He swung his axe back. The two healers in front of him had no time to run. They were both sliced in half in one singular swing. For the third healer he pulled out his dagger, threw him against the wall and cut his chest open. He drove his hand in, and ripped out the man’s heart. “Now you know my pain, you know my hurt, my heart was hers and now it’s gone, all gone, and dead just like you.”

He walked from that Hospital Chamber, his hands stained deep crimson. They held firm and did not shake, one on his axe, the other still tightly clenching the man's heart. From that day forth he was known as Blood Paws. Normally he would have been executed for this behavior, but Omega Black Tongue had felt a pain similar to his some years ago.

They approached the village just before nightfall. Many fled upon hearing their roaring march. A small number stayed to defend and a good deal stayed because they had nowhere else to go. The Wolves poured into the village as a fire consumes all in its path. A decent amount of supplies was found in the storage, enough to get them to the next two targets. Anyone with a weapon in hand was cut down during the raid, but a sad few remained.

“Blood Paws, what of the villagers?”

“Kill them all, we will be doing them a favor, the Sillar Kingdom won’t be able to provide for them. Murder is our trade, I will not lead a band of rabid rapists.”

Bright Fang bowed and turned to walk away. “Wolf Sergeant Bright Fang. Have a scout send word to Omega Black Tongue, tell him we have taken the first village. Inform him of our current numbers.”

We marched north. each step brought us closer to the mountain the Sillar Capital was built upon. Bright Fang walked silently beside me. “The blood is still on my hands Bright Fang.”

“I don’t see any blood.”

“Figuratively, it’s there, but not really there.”

“Ah, I think I know what you mean.”

“My hands are stained with blood and death; I am one soul that does not deserve forgiveness.”

“Don’t say that Blood Paws, you have brought food and life to our people; Blood is on all our hands, not just yours.”

“At your age I would have said the same thing, it has been far too long, what I’ve done has caught up to me Bright Fang; have the Wolves pick up the pace. I grow tired of this campaign.”

They neared the second village, the Wolves feared Blood Paws current mood and ran as hounds of hell. They approached the village like death. Many of the defenders dropped their weapons and ran at the sight of them. The entire village was slain and burnt to the ground; the only mercy shone was that of a quick death. Bright Fang approached Blood Paws standing upon the hill, watching the town burn below.

“Blood Paws, we have received word from Alpha Dark Mane, we are to merge our two armies to attack the upcoming city.”

“Very well, we are to wait at this position I assume?”

“Yes Alpha.”

“Hmm, I kind of regret burning down the homes now, we have food at any rate, summon the Wolves, tonight we feast.”

The Wolves under command of Alpha Dark Mane arrived the following afternoon. They looked like starving dogs that had taken to gnawing at themselves. Dark Mane’s army was never known to be kempt or organized. There are many stories of their raids and pillages. Oddly enough they all have the same moral of the story; take your own life before Dark Mane’s bastards get to you. Dark Mane himself was on the tall side. As his name suggests he has thick, long, dark hair. His beard is short, scruffy, and incomplete due to extensive scars from blade wounds. Dark Mane strode into Blood Paws camp. “Alpha Blood Paws and Wolf Sergeant Bright Fang, how’s the campaign treating you? I am guessing well, you’ve gotten fat.” The three of them had a good laugh at that.

Blood Paws stood from his seat, “Well, we were fortunate the villagers kept good stores.”

“Bah, I wish I could say the same, there was nothing left, the Sillar dogs let rats eat all their stores. It was one hell of an infestation.”

“Don’t worry brother Alpha, we have enough food for the lot of us, we will eat like kings till we reach Sila the Emerald City.”

“I see that, what are your numbers currently your ranks look thin; surely these villages didn’t give you that much trouble?”

Bright Fang cut in, “The Villages no, but we got hit by a Sythe ambush, filthy dogs, we are sitting at three hundred strong now give or take.”

“Damn shame, no sign of the Sythe since then; I’d hate to take a Sythe raid once we besiege Sila.”

“None, we killed a good number of them, near four hundred.”

“Aye, well a good Sythe is a dead one at any rate, let’s hope they lost their stomach for it.”

Bright Fang nodded, “Indeed.”

 “My Wolves need to eat before we march.”

“Very well, Bright Fang ensure that they are all properly fed, it is a long march to Sila.”

Chapter II: The Sillar

          Cold steel dropped down toward Animus, he raised the flat of his blade deflecting the slash. He swung his shield into the Gorhh’s face knocking out several teeth. The brute stumbled back and Animus drove his sword through the man’s neck and spit on the body as it fell forward. Another Gorhh rushed forward to take the place of his dead comrade. He lunged forward with his spiked maul. Animus spun to his side, swung, and beheaded the foe. His comrade Rit was battling a towering Gorhh that was at least a foot taller than everyone else fighting in the streets of Silla the Emerald City. The behemoth of a man held a great sword which he swung from the high guard. The sheer force of his swing destroyed all opposition. With a frothing growl he raised his sword and brought it down straight into Rit’s shield. The sword rent the metal rim of his shield and passed through the wood. The shield dropped in two pieces and a stream of blood ran down Rit’s side. His left arm was a bloody stump where his wrist should have been. Rit shrugged it off best he could and desperately blocked another attack with the flat of his blade.  Animus swept his throwing axe from his side and hurled it into the towering Gorhh’s side.  It hardly fazed him and without looking back he brought another hammering strike down on Rit. This time his sword shattered under the pressure. The giant stalked forward preparing the killing blow. Rit pulled a dagger from his side and drove it into the colossal forearm that loomed above him. The giant staggered back. Animus had just reached the fray. He threw down his shield and swung his sword as he jumped toward its back. The sword landed halfway up the behemoth’s spine and sheered his back in two.

Animus pulled Rit from under the corpse of the giant Gorhh. Rit was drenched in blood and beginning to fade. “Hang on Rit, death doesn’t come for bastards like us.” Rit dropped to his knees, his head rolled back, and blood dribbled from his mouth. “Stay with me!” Animus spun around and skewered a charging enemy on his sword. Rit fell to his side, his eyes glazed up to the sky.

Reinforcements entered the field and Animus was soon surrounded by many Gorhhrothi as he protected Rit’s body. They locked their shields together and stepped forward like a tightening noose. They proceeded to bash Animus senseless from all angles till he fell to the floor in a bloody and barely living pulp.

Animus felt a cold drip upon his face and fluttering rays of light passed over him. He opened his eyes. He was in some sort of cell. There was a wooden planked roof. It did not feel like he was in Silla anymore. The Emerald City must be lost he thought. Through the gaps in the wood he could see thousands of feet shuffle through kicking dirt and dust down into the cell. His face was swollen and crusty with dry blood. Animus tried to yell but his mouth was too dry to speak and only a low scratchy tone could be heard. Rit was in the corner unconscious, he looked like a corpse but Animus could see his chest move up and down. Animus’ vision began to blur and he passed out.

Not a single dream, just darkness. Animus awoke from his daze to a degrading whisper in his ear. It was so close that he could feel the spit dribble into his ear canal.

“Listen up dog. You are mine, I own you. I paid for you. My men tell me you are a great warrior. I did not see you on the battlefield, but they say you killed the giant Grayblood. I have my doubts. Good or no, I will get my money out of you, even if I have to make you a whore. Do you hear that dog? Kill or be ridden until you gain a permanent limp. Don’t worry dog, Blood Paws will teach you to kill.”

Animus mumbled, “Where is Rit?”

“I do not know of whom you speak, but rest assured, he is either a dog like you or a corpse discarded in the frost. “

“Where am I?”

“You are in the confines of the Gororoth. You fight tomorrow, rest easy dog.”

A roar thundered through the arena set beneath the grounds of the Gororoth. Animus waited to enter in complete darkness. He was naked with no weapons, but they expected him to kill something. The door was raised and the piercing light above dulled his vision. The arena was a decent size. It had enough room for fifty men to engage in combat. The gate on the opposing side was soon drawn up and out stalked a starving wolf. A big hulking beast, but crazed and starving no less. The Gorhhrothi breed many wolves and this must be the fate for those which cannot be controlled.

The wolf charged and Animus looked for a rock or something of the sort to give him an edge. There was nothing. He ran at the beast with all his force and tackled it. Animus began to wrap around its throat and strangle it. The wolf got a hold of his arm and tore it up. The pain was unbearable for Animus, but if he let go he’d be dead. The beast’s teeth scraped against his bone. The bite began to loosen and as the beast passed on to sleeping death. Animus stood up and raised his bloody arm to the crowd. Blood Paws jumped down into the arena with complete disregard for the considerable drop. Blood Paws was quite nimble and it was no problem for him to land with ease.

“You did good, you’ve gotten your first kill and from the beast you will be clothed and armed. All things must be earned and you earned your first scrap of it. Come dog your prize awaits.”

Blood Pawns and Animus left the arena. Blood Paws brought him to a small wooden house built against the wall of the Gororoth. Animus was still naked until his wolf clothing was prepared, he could only use that which he had won in battle. There were many skulls lain by the door of the house and every other manner of trophies as an offering to whoever lived here.

“Something you should know about our culture dog. It is customary to bed a woman after victory in combat. You being a slave to the Gorhhrothi get to bed something far more special and dangerous of course. The wolf in the arena was less scary my friend. “

“What is the reasoning behind this custom?”

“In our laws it is said that only the victorious get to breed, just as only the victorious get to breathe. Now go to Iyella and claim your prize.”

Animus knocked on the door and it opened to a pretty woman in a lush bear skin cloak. Her skin was gray, her hair was raven, and her eyes a mystic purple. Iyella grinned and spoke to Animus, “So you are my victorious morsel, come with me.”

Iyella brought Animus to her bedroom and closed the door. Almost immediately her demeanor changed into something far more lustful. She arched her neck back and dropped her cloak revealing her naked body. Animus was stunned as he stared at her up and down, her tits were nice and perky, and her nipples a bright pink. She had a line of soft hair leading to her petite dragon’s lair. She was unlike any woman he had ever seen. Her skin was an inhuman gray that seemed to glow almost in the candlelight. Iyella pushed Animus down onto the bed then spun around and bent over in front of him. Animus was whipped in the face by her fluffy charcoal gray tail.

She glanced back baring a sharp fang from the corner of her mouth, “Eat me before I eat you.” Iyella arched her back and gripped her ass. Without need of further encouragement Animus dove in and continued till his jaw was aching. She turned around and pushed him back onto the bed.  “I will stitch up your arm, but first I want you to bleed for me.” Iyella opened her mouth showing her fangs and sunk them into his unscathed forearm. Her teeth scraped against his bone and she released the death grip of her jaws. “Your scars will match now.”