The First Meeting

[Slic3man 484]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_nksp7zjrYE

 

An average day of Abresi passed on, though in this hour something lurked close; beasts of unfathomable strength approaching. A towering man donning armor of custom make, as well as a gargantuan blade lurked within the tavern about the crowd, not attracting much attention regardless. Nonetheless he seemed to be searching among the town for something, surely the form couldn't be there for nothing. Though soon it was made apparent what he was after, as an ungodly snort was heard about the tavern. 

 

Nay attention was drawn regardless, though a strong slam against the roof signaled those inside that something was awry. Some of the warriors within moved out of the structure, gaze drifting to the visage of a monstrous Bohra's form. Some upon the rooves already gazed upon its thick matted fur, before it slammed into the lower scales of the buildings. Its hands and feet slammed along the wooden shingles before it slammed into the streets with an unruly crunch.

 

 

Nonetheless a large figure stood in his path, that of which was surveying within the tavern. He was not alone; warriors beginning to surround the beast of burden. A gluttonous squeal tore through the city for the first time and tore the ears of those nearby as they closed in on it with various strikes. Although assaulted and gored, it seemed to remain unhindered in blood-lust and rage. One slammed by the blade of the rage-induced swine. 

 

Wounded by the warriors of Oren, it turned its  at the nearest figure nearby; a familiar tower of flesh. The giant stood firm, bringing its blade up to catch the Bohra's blade with equal strength. Sparks shot out from the sequence of catches, before the steel man shoved the pig man toward the stone wall in a gargantuan parry. Many weapons o' might rained down upon the beast, one of which shattered its knee. Soon it fell, and with it a second screech shot through the sky; calling for its master.

 

An adventurer's worst scenario flashed through his mind, fearing the worst his voice bellowed out, "To the rooves, quickly before the beast comes!" 

 

Each warrior moved to the rooftops, including that of the man who shouted the command. Before long the flapping of wings emanated about the city, and a shadow was cast above its stone. A mighty drake soared over the city, words of unknown origin barked in anger and spite. Each stared in awe, as it came to a stop to gaze down at them. 

 

 

"None can cull my children, but one..." It's words haltered, gaze staring down to the behemoth that had helped slay the Bohra. "You!" The ebony monstrosity barked out, recognizing the soldier from previous encounters unseen to the public eye. Before long it shot down, seeking to attack Wulfriche, one of the warriors alongside Dmitri to aid the stranger. Nonetheless the drake was veered off by the large warrior, sent to the other rooftops as the giant's blade missed its target. 

 

However the bliss of peace did not come, monotone voice shouting out to the beast, "You shall not pass!" It flaunted. To no avail however it appeared, as the aberration shot forth, wings bashing over another warrior of bravery as well as the steel tower. All that was seen was the strange large one tumble off the roof, blood following his fall as he landed next to the post. 

 

"Breathe your last breaths giant, you have been felled!" The familiar voice of the demonic drake burst out, before it soared off into the sky. 

 

A warrior of creed laid against the post, the others gathering toward the wounded comrade. His voice reaches out to them, seeking to speak to them in his encumbered voice.

 

"Gather... my brave brethren..." He would say as if unable to stay much longer. "The story does not end here... I mustn't die before... he is slain." 

 

"A drake by the name of Malghourn, a plight to the skies. We must slay him, we must drag him to the land in which we dwell, to bring him to its grasp. I cannot do this alone, we together will fight this beast."

 

"What is your name?" A voice would speak out to the armored figure, in correspondence the monotone voice turned to the comrade, "Admetus, the Giant as those have previously dubbed me."

 

A healer soon mended the new-found man's wounds, Admetus slowly rising using his blade that was impaled into the ground. Weaving the story to the people before him, he soon would need to depart. Small words were traded among them, knowledge of their next meeting given to the champions who assisted him. The man departed, leaving them with the information needed for their next occurrence. More was to be done, and the story was not to end here. 

 

 

 

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.