Post by Arrowbid on Aug 22, 2007 19:43:22 GMT -5
Xenophobia
The water of the flooded chasm rippled slightly as a shock rumbled throughout the temple. It overflowed slightly and lapped at the wolf’s battered paws, cooling them with crystal water. The pool itself was apparently murky, but upon closer inspection it was simply exceedingly deep, darkening significantly in the center. Akhlut stepped closer to the water and peered over the edge inquisitively, the black water rippled along with the bangs and echoes of the distant temple walls, swelling and rippling over the crumbled marble edge with each thunder.
Amarok and Durga tensed their muscles and lifted their heads to the strange sensation. They stopped their arguing and glanced over to Akhlut, who stood precariously close to the watery pit. Something sparkling within its depths had caught his eye.
The dark water began swirl into a whirlpool as another crash multiplied the echoes in the damaged halls.
“Akhlut! Stay away from there!” Durga barked as she leapt over to the jackal wolf. Akhlut skittered away from her with fright, he looked at her and then back at the temple walls anxiously. Akhlut’s legs shook and his eyes widened until the whites were visible, “Wha-what was that sound?”
Durga’s ears stood erect and she stared at the young wolf with a perplexed look, “what sound? What are you talking about?”
“There! There it is again!” he barked.
Durga growled and pushed past the bemused stray, who then scampered back toward Amarok all too eagerly. Amarok glanced over at Akhlut gruffly before looking back at his alpha.
Durga stood erect with a stiffened look as her ears swiveled atop her russet red head. She huffed her breathe into the air slightly, trying to make as little noise as possible. For a moment, all that could be heard was the dripping of Akhlut’s soaked pelt and the wolves own shallow breathing.
Durga flinched and spun around angrily to face Akhlut, who had secluded himself a great distance from the supposed noise. “What are you trying to pull? I don’t hear anything!” she growled.
Akhlut stepped out attentively from the shadows; he looked around with wary eyes at the great expanse of the cathedral. “But I swore I heard something. Like a shriek, a-a monster.” Akhlut pointed his black nose at Amarok, “Like he said.”
Amarok’s face became glum and he shook his head with embarrassment.
Durga frowned and glared at Amarok, “Didn’t I tell you to stop with those stories? We don’t need the whole world knowing about our pro-“
“Durga!”
An exasperated bark filled the temple, making them all lift their heads with intrigue. Paw-steps pounded across the marble floors until the blazing form of a great white wolf appeared on a damaged marble outcrop. He hesitated, panting as he swept his gaze across them all. His blue eyes rested on Akhlut with a befuddled look. The white wolf snapped out of his confused state and his attention was drawn back to his fellow pack members, “Durga, Amarok, come with me. I need you”.
Durga gazed up at the white wolf, and unquestioningly started to bound up the rockslide after him. She and Amarok were almost at the top of the outcrop when she remembered Akhlut, and looked over her shoulder at the loner while calling to her mate, “Traal, what about him?”
Traal must have taken little or no notice of the new comer as he barely looked him over; instead he scrambled back up the marble rockslide and barked a gruff response over his shoulder, “He can come too.”
Akhlut fastened his paws to the cold floor, unsure of what to say or how to react. He swept his gaze back and forth from Durga and Amarok, looking for some sort of reassurance. But neither of them was paying any attention to Akhlut. Amarok in particular, for what mistrust or concern he had for him had completely given way to the instinct of following his leaders. He trotted past the stunned Akhlut and up the rubble after Traal and Durga. Amarok surged forward undaunted, but kept his blood red eyes stitched on Akhlut. “You coming or not?” he growled.
Akhlut snapped out of his imaginings and glanced at Amarok, and then back at the two alphas. At the realization that he was being left behind he lowered his head obediently and bellowed up the slope and on past Amarok. Amarok watched him with solid eyes for a few seconds and then trudged on silently after the trio.
The snow white highler led them up the crushed marble floors and through the watery halls. Durga followed closely behind, with Akhlut right on her tail and Amarok setting a sturdy pace as he brought up the rear.
Akhlut was portraying a weak feeling, he couldn’t help it though. Amarok’s gaze was like a knife in his back. He could feel him waiting to lash out at the first chance he should step out of line.
“Traal” growled Durga. She padded up alongside her mate, taking her rightful place beside him. “Mind telling me what’s going on?”
“Give me a moment” whispered Traal. He swept a quick glance across his comrade’s faces and then padded further down the dark hall. It had stopped raining by now, but grey turbulent clouds still covered the evening sky, preventing the sun from reaching down to light their way. Without the sun, color had seemed to vanish from the temple. The halls appeared as if in black and white, enveloping all who passed through them in shadow. And the mosaic walls cast only small rays of color, which reflected off the marble onto the wolf’s hollow faces.
Traal stood stiff legged, his ears were pointed straight up and his tail stood flat. They were close to the temple gates now, only a few yards from the main entranceway, the same hall Akhlut had traversed down earlier. Traal whined “Listen” to the others in a hushed tone and he took another step forward, straining his ears.
“What is it, what’s here?” inquired Durga.
“Remember when I told you to find Amarok? I said I had heard something?” he snarled. “Well I heard it again, and shortly after you left there was that rumbling throughout the temple!”
“I heard it too!” barked Akhlut. The others turned to him with surprised faces, as if they had forgotten he was there. Akhlut shrunk back a bit, almost bumping into Amarok as he did so. But a quick nip from the black wolf put him in his place. Akhlut growled slightly and continued, “The whole temple felt like it was shaking. And there was this crashing and shrieking sound before that.”
Traal looked over his shoulder at Akhlut and turned to face him with new interest, “What’s your name, pup?”
“…Akhlut”
Traal felt his hackles rise with agitation at the name, and he looked Akhlut over with cold blue eyes. “You’re one of Fenris’s wolves aren’t you?”
“Yes bu-“
Akhlut was cut off as a terrifying roar sounded from the temple gates. “Was that- gah!” Durga flinched in mid-sentence as a crashing roar thundered throughout the temple, causing it to begin to shake.
All four of the wolves looked up in shock as slabs of stone and marble began to fall from cracks in the ceiling, and another crash crippled the outer temples pillars. Akhlut shuffled out of reach of the debris, and the other wolves huddled low to the ground with their hackles raised, all alert and on edge. Traal kept his head low and twitched his muzzle as shards glass began to fall from the mosaic tiles. He crawled away from the others and barked to them over his shoulder at the first chance he had, “Come on you lot, follow me, now!”
Akhlut, being separated from the group could barely hear his master’s enemy over the clamor. All around him slabs of aged marble and stone were beginning to crumble away fall. Amarok and Durga had already made it safely to the highler, being fleet of foot Akhlut knew he should have no problem doing the same. Yet as he felt a surge of fear drive to propel him forward, he felt the same emotion, cling and hold him back.
Fear was a powerful feeling; and every creature has a sense of fight or flight. A wolf’s fight or flight senses are perfectly balanced, giving them the ability of judgment. Akhlut’s judgment was failing him however, he was about to shoot forward through the fray when an entire section of mosaic fell down right before his eyes. And there was a moment, where all the sounds of the world fled from Akhlut’s ears and mind, and he alone stood, and watched his reflection in the black dragons eye shatter into oblivion.
Millions of shards of glass rained into his face, each one holding a tiny fragment of his image in their mirror like quality. Akhlut screamed in agony. Yet as severe as the pain had been, it faded almost instantly, leaving only a stinging reminder across his brow.
The last of epics that was to grace the battered monument was a sound the wolves knew all to well, an ivory horn being blown from somewhere in the distance. It trumpeted, carrying a haunting tone around the frightened animal’s faces, who then dipped their heads into the blue shadows astutely wary of the call.
Traal alone remained out of hiding, with his white fur blazing against the smoking ruin that was piling up behind him. Dust and sand billowed up as pillars began to fall and Traal dodged every one of them, appearing as a ghost flitting away in the fog of night. Durga leapt out of the rising dust cloud, her body cut through like a flaming arrow, and like an arrow she soared between the pillars as they fell. Next to take his chance at safety was Amarok, who appeared as a black silhouette soldering his way through the catastrophe. He being not as fleet of foot as the rest, merely dodged each falling blow with cumbersome effect. In his wake ran Akhlut, he leapt from the dust cloud out behind Amarok with his tongue lolling nervously, as if he had just seen something terrible.
The small pack stood thunder-struck as the pillars fell through the outer wall making the entrance nearly impassible. Durga began to turn away but shot her gaze back to the wreckage, they all did, and stared with amazement. As the dust cloud finally cleared and the smoke curled away, a dragon appeared. His thick neck lay sprawled across the pillar he had fallen into.
Akhlut froze as the others began to pass whispers about monsters around his ears. His curiosity got the best of him however, and he padded forward sheepishly, along the pillars width to the dragons head. Durga called his name but he paid little mind and leapt to the pillars surface. The great beast was motionless, but Akhlut still padded up to it cagily. The little wolf found himself looking into the blue monsters closed eyes, but as he drew closer a bellow sounded from his left and his head shot up with a jolt. A man astride an enormous boar appeared atop the wreckage; it scraped the ground with its hooves and swept its mighty head back and forth in the air threateningly and roared again. At the sound, the blue dragons’ eye swiveled open and latched itself on the first thing it saw.
Streke swung his neck up, curling it like a snake, and lashed out into the sky on pure instinct. The next thing Akhlut knew was that he was hurling through the air, being thrown from the lopsided pillar like a rag doll. Akhlut flinched preparing for impact. But no impact came; suddenly he was choking and was being tugged backwards as if he was lassoed around the neck.
Streke had snagged his teeth on the necklace, and now the item that was to help Akhlut had become his harm. The golden chain tightened, choking out his breath so he fell limp, swaying whatever way Streke tossed him.
Howls of fear for the young stray chilled the men. They had called for reinforcements, not because they needed help in battle but because they needed help in transportation. But now at the sound of the close howls and the wolf that appeared by the blue dragon, they feared that they needed help either way.
The boar that had been struck by the arrow lay dead, finally defeated by blood loss. And its former rider had blown the ivory horn. And they came. Huge white monsters. Ones even bigger than the boars. With saurian bodies and heads like sharks.
They burst from the sand like fish leaping from the water, and slammed back to earth, shaking the ground with their girth. Five of them surrounded the temple entrance, and two of the five were already positioned by the pillars, which they had only recently toppled the two dragons into.
Streke’s mind was still blurry, and his head ached horribly making him moan in agony, choking Akhlut as he did so. The three remaining wolves took his groans in offense and crouched, preparing for the attack. Traal twisted his face into an ugly snarl and growled; though he was suspicious of Akhlut he never wished any true harm upon him. He leapt at Streke, despite the others protests and soared through the air, latching onto Streke’s lower jaw.
Streke’s hazy eyes lit up, as if the pain had reawakened something in him. He yelled at it all. The boars, the wolves and the fact he had no idea where Wynd had gone, he swung his neck around frantically, trying to break free of the vise-like grip. But Traal hung on tightly throughout the dragon’s desperation, his muzzle sinking ever deeper into the scaly, bloodying flesh. His teeth cut a deep gash in Streke’s jaw, and Traal watched as his vision of Akhlut was slowly swept away by the dragons’ blood. Streke reared, making the boar atop the wreckage back up with anxiety. Akhlut’s eyes flicked open for a split-second, as if the thrashing of his body had jolted him awake. And he cried out. Snapping Traal’s attention away, just in time to see himself being flung into the half toppled pillar.
All the men could see on the other side of the wall was an explosion of stone and sand as the dragon’s neck had disappeared behind the pillar. Streke had flung his massive head around and had crashed it into the one remaining pillar. The impact sent Traal flying from Streke, and he slammed hard into Akhlut. The necklace held for a moment, as Streke swung them both around, but finally the strain was too much and the gold chain broke. Traal and Akhlut were thrown through the break in the wall and landed at the white monsters feet. Both had been struck into unconsciousness. Akhlut however, no longer held the necklace; instead the broken chain was draped loosely around Traal’s neck.
Streke roused himself off his back just as the pillar fell through the wall. It crashed down before the men, advancing the break in the wall and (after the smoke cleared) revealing the two remaining wolves.
Durga stood perfectly still, stricken with fear as she gazed at her mates’ body. The red she-wolf seemed to have forgotten everything else around her and she ran through the muddy sand toward him, panting exhaustedly all the way. Traal still lay unmoving in the muck, where the saurian monsters were slowly advancing. Their riders were larger and more muscular then those on the boars, though they still retained the same conventional appearance. Large ram horns and snake-like heads.
Amarok ran after Durga calling to her, while he set his eyes angrily upon the eerie monsters. He approached until their presence loomed over him. It was then that he noticed the creatures were hauling something. Huge carts that the beasts had pulled through the sand along with them. They rattled ominously and reeked of death.
Streke took the momentary pause to effect and shook the rubble off of his bulk causing the boars and monsters to snap to attention.
The men atop their mounts gave each other swift but meaningful looks and grunted to one another, sounding no different from the beasts they were riding, “Forget the warg” one rasped, using his native word for wolf. He looked to the dragons, wearing a wide grin. “With ormr we’ll all be rich!”
The man with the ivory horn climbed atop the larger of the monsters, he shook his head at the others suggestion and growled, motioning towards Traal and the necklace, “You two get the warg so we can pay off that daft king. Those on the ujakai, get the ormr”.
One of the men on the ujakai looked a bit unsure, “Those aren’t Black Dragons though… right?”
“They’d of told us if they were, besides. Why else would they of fled from the boars?”
Durga ignored the huge creatures around her and the men’s shouts and tried desperately to rouse her mate.
“Traal wake up!” she barked.
Amarok paced around Durga backwards, not wanting to take his eyes off the boars that were advancing on them.
“Durga!” he barked desperately.
The two boars had surrounded them now and the men had unhitched their ropes from the saddles. Amarok began looking frantic, if he couldn’t get Durga away he would have to leave her there, he looked over to where Akhlut had fallen. He had almost forgotten about him. But as he looked to the spot where the stray had landed he found that Akhlut was nowhere to be seen; all that was left of the strange wolf were footprints, leading off somewhere into the hills. Amarok growled and raged inward upon himself, I knew he couldn’t be trusted!
“Amarok…” a small voice muttered.
The black wolf turned his gaze back to Durga, his highla.
Traal and that traitor may be gone but I still have to protect her. I can’t forget that.
Amarok growled a reply and Durga moved out of the way to reveal Traal, still breathing, but something else was there as well. A broken necklace was shining from beneath his mangy white fur.
“Akhlut…”
Amarok remembered Akhlut crouching, trying to hide something when he first met him. He had thought the glimmer in his fur was just glare from the glass windows.
Durga knew the necklace meant something to the men; it was the only reason she could find that would justify their being here.
“Durga we can’t stay here any longer. We have to go, now!” he barked.
The scent of fear and excitement filled the air making both wolves fur stand on end. They heard shouting from the men and both turned to face the enemy with teeth bared.
Streke charged at the ujakai and their riders. His jaw was still bleeding from the wolf bite and his back ached incredibly from the fall. But his outward wounds took no toll on his rage, this he proved by latching onto the side of the ujakai’s face. The creatures eyes were on the side of their heads, so as the dragon’s fangs sunk in, the ujakai became blinded. Streke hung on as the monster began to thrash about and he searched the grounds with fraught eyes.
Wynd where are you!?
Streke had not seen what happened to Wynd; they had been forced from the high skies by the storm and as soon as Wynd was within striking distance he was shot down somewhere into the pillars. Streke had swept down soon afterward, trying to find his brother, resulting only in his own shooting. It was not how they did it that made him seethe with embarrassment but how easily they had done it. That was what made Streke sick. Streke wore a wry face. And now these slug-like monsters had thrown him down yet again. Streke was growing tired, tired of being chased and shot at. Shot at by these humans. No, not humans, what were they? Horns like a ram but faces like snakes, with large red eyes.
Then it hit him. He recognized these things from long ago when he had first traveled to the tower with his mother. She said they were called the desert Kroni, and their mounts were the sand sharks, Ujakai. They must be Kroni; he wouldn’t forget those red eyes. Ever since they had first looked up at him from atop those white monsters, his memory had burned with their presence.
And now he was fighting them. Streke didn’t know why but his hatred for the Kroni had increased the moment he found out their true nature. And he let that hatred out with a burst of white fire. The moment he did so the ujakai reacted, no matter how strong Streke was, the ujakai was still larger. It shoved its head deep into the sand carrying its rider and the cart along with it, knocking Streke loose as his face became buried in mud. Streke pulled himself loose and backed away from the spot, thinking the creature had retreated or perhaps he had killed it. It was a sand shark after all. Streke switched his gaze to the other Ujakai now encircling him, feeling more confident against the daunting beings. He leapt, claws and teeth outstretched, something rose to meet him, his already bloodied jaw hit something hard, sharp, and it threw him back into the mud. Streke rebounded off his bulk astatically and looked absolutely egregious at the return of the Ujakai. It had not gone at all. Streke couldn’t understand how a creature that big could swim through the sand in such a way, especially while towing a cart and rider. This was something he had never encountered before, and realized this with a horridly accurate understanding.
The Ujakai groped their mandibles hungrily toward Streke. The stench of decay leaked from their gullets, overpowering the blistering heat. Howling from behind the beasts grabbed Streke’s attention. The kroni kicked his ujakai, urging it forward, Streke was ready. A white hammer-like head shot out at Streke, he jumped atop it, and the circular mouth lunged past, burying its saw-teeth into the muddy sand. Streke had not realized how large the sand shark actually was. Its’ head was crowned with huge yellowish spikes, its’ back, plated like a stegosaurs’. The kroni was sitting atop a high decorated platform, like that of which hunters use upon elephants. Weapons were tacked along the platforms ridge, among them, a Kris. The man grabbed for the dagger, and the surrounding ujakai joined in, trying to catch Streke in their jaws. Streke however, was merely seeking a high vantage point. His right wing was crippled by the shaft of an arrow. Its’ sharp point protruded from the radius making flight impossible. The kroni jumped off his platform onto his ujakai’s back, Kris in hand. Streke growled menacingly as the man approached, walking down the spine of his mount. Beforehand he was doing his best to put a dent in the ujakai, but nothing he did had effect, even fire was useless, it glanced harmlessly off the pearly white scales, only turning them a heated red.
Suddenly Streke felt a sharp pain sear through his right hind leg. Streke roared, and he looked over his shoulder, just in time to see his foot disappear into the jaws of the other ujakai. Streke gasped as the breath was pulled right out of him, and the sand shark’s switch-blade teeth tore at his skin, like a vacuum, sucking him in. The kroni hefted his blade, preparing to strike. Streke shot his head back grimacing and clawing at the ujakai’s skin, trying to pull himself free. A glimmer of sunlight refracted off the Kris, drawing Streke’s attention. Just as the kroni brought the blade down, Streke rolled over and knocked the blade out of the man’s hands with his flailing wings. The death roll that was so familiar with crocodiles proved to be useful for something other than killing. Streke kept rolling and twisted his legs out of the ujakai’s gaping jaws, and flipped his neck around bursting flame into the creatures gaping mouths. The ujakai screeched an otherworldly sound and thrashed its bulk about in spasms, smoke fizzling from its charred gullet. Its rider lashed a whip across its face, making it jerk its head for a moment before returning to its senses. The three ujakai began to swarm about each other, each groping for Streke with their circular mouths.
Wait, there were five ujakai. Where are the other two?
Streke climbed to the top of the ujakai and leapt at the rider who had pulled the dagger, he lashed at the kroni’s chest making him fall back onto the platform. The ujakai Streke was on reared at the impact, throwing him into the sky.