Urara's Hunt

[Urahra 5777]

((The tale of how Urara got her scars. Originally, this was going to be a long epic of survival, but then I realized that I didn't feel like writing a long epic of survival. So here's a story I wrote at 2 am because I couldn't fall asleep.))

Urara lay face down in the snow, her chest heaving with labored breath. Slowly, she turned her head. Behind her, the forest crackled like a bonfire, engulfed in leaping flames. Not a few feet from where she lay, the body of a dwarf sprawled like a dropped toy. The dwarf's blood leaked out onto the ice, coloring it vivid red. Letting out a grunt of pain, Urara flipped herself over. Snowflakes fluttered on the warm updrafts over the burning wood. The naked trees spat cinders and flecks of ash. Urara rubbed her right eye. Bolts of pain shot through her face at the touch. She hissed.

Gingerly, Urara touched her face. Her hand came away bloody. Tiny rivulets of blood flowed from her cracked, burnt skin. Running her fingers over her face, she felt for her ear. A lumpy, oozing hole throbbed in place of her right ear. Her vision out of her right eye was blurry and dark. Closing her left eye, she could barely see. During the chase, cinders had flown into her face. The sizzling sound they made reminded Urara too much of cooking bacon.

Her right side was stiff. Tremors of pain rippled under her skin. Biting her bottom lip, Urara staggered to her feet. The snow bit at her ankles. Clutching her burns, Urara fell to her knees beside the dwarf. There, lodged in his neck, a skinning knife stood gleaming. Blood trickled from the wounds. Seizing the handle of her knife, Urara yanked it free. Fresh blood gushed from the dwarf's neck. He let out a strangled cry, eyes rolling toward Urara. Flipping the knife over, Urara leaned over the dwarf. With a quick, decisive cut, she slit his throat.

"Like buub." Urara mumbled. Talking brought on fresh waves of pain. The burns covered the right side of her head, all the way to the corner of her mouth. Wiping the knife clean on the snow, Urara slipped it back on her belt. Gritting her teeth, she struggled back to her feet.

Orcs weren't made for this kind of weather. If it weren't for the bitter cold, Urara wouldn't be in this situation. Her fur pelts hung tattered and burnt around her shoulders. Her right boot was gone, lost in the chase. A burning branch had fallen on her as she pursued the dwarf. Her furs were the first thing to burn. The fire spread to her hair and from there to her skin. The pain was enough to turn Urara's stomach. At the same time, she took a little pleasure in knowing one of the last sights the dwarf saw on this earth was her, a fiery vision of death.

The chase started out simple enough. "Your Minas or your life!" The dwarf slurred. He stopped Urara on the road, stumbling in front of her like a blind sheep. Urara laughed at him. Sliding around drunk with an iron dagger in his hand, he hardly looked like a threat. At first, Urara simply pushed him out of the way. What harm could a drunken wannabe bandit be? But no, he was stupid as well as drunk. As soon as Urara let go of him, he stabbed her, digging his little knife deep into her abdomen. By the time he pulled his dagger free, though, Urara already had her sword out.

They traded blows on the roadside. With a hard swing, Urara knocked the knife from his hand, severing two of the dwarf's fingers. She could see the panic lighting up in his eyes. Pulling a tinderbox from his pocket, the dwarf fled into the woods. Urara leapt after him. The dwarf carved his way through the snowy wood, leaving showers of sparks in his wake. The sparks ate into the trees, turning the forest floor into a blazing pit of fire.

Urara shivered at the memory, staring into the blaze still raging before her. She and the dwarf bandit lay in a small clearing. The dwarf, as he sprinted in his haste to get away from Urara, tripped over a hidden rock at the edge of the clearing. That was when Urara got him. Ignoring the fire eating her skin, Urara pounced on the fallen dwarf and shoved her knife into his neck. From there, Urara dove into the snow bank. Rolling around in the ice, she was able to put herself out. Her fur pelts smoked, reeking of burning hair. Grimacing, Urara whipped off her fur cloak and cast it in the snow, stamping it with her foot.

Her leather jerkin smoldered against her side. Her leggings gaped at the thigh, revealing a hideous, blistering white burn. Blisters bubbled up the side of her torso, some popped, some oozing blood. Urara flipped the dwarf with her foot. Kneeling down, she dug through his pack. A wrapped loaf of bread, a bit of gravel, but no bandages. Urara hissed. "Skah'n damn stuntee..." She spat on the dwarf's face.

The wildfire blazed unfettered on the east side of the clearing. Swearing and gritting her teeth, Urara staggered toward the west. Thick grey clouds smothered the sun. Ankle deep snow choked any possible pathways. Urara couldn't advance more than a few feet.

"Skah'n road...Where de skah'n road..." Urara mumbled to herself, hobbling back and forth across the clearing. The fire blocked her way back east. East was the road back to Alkhazar, back to Krugmar. Urara's skin prickled with the memory of the desert sun. She'd been hunting here nearly a month, trying to catch sight of one of Oren's beautiful, rare snow bears. With fur as white as ice and teeth as big as daggers, a snow bear would be the perfect gift for Warlord Mogroka. Urara could see it in her head. He would praise her for certain, perhaps even promote her to Warboss. After all, only an accomplished hunter and warrior could trap a snow bear.

But no. She'd failed. Not once had she seen a snow bear. Just a drunk dwarf stupid enough to think he could mug a Kheshig. Groaning, Urara dropped down in the snow. Blood oozed down the side of her face, staining her leather jerkin. The pain interrupted her focus, muddying her thoughts. Her muscles ached from running and the burns made her stiff with pain.

"Skah...it hurts." Urara muttered to herself, rubbing her arms for warmth. The cold did little to numb her pain. Puffs of white air drifted from her mouth. The heat of the forest fire, slowly dying, was blanketed by the cold. Urara muttered bleakly, cursing the dwarf, her burns, and the weather all at the same time.

In Krugmar, she wore a simple cloth brassiere and a pair of shorts. That was all she needed - elaborate clothes were hot and stifling. You couldn't move in them. In the north, though, she needed layers of cloaks and jackets and leggings just to keep from freezing. Well, how brilliant of the humans to make their clothes so flammable. If she'd been hunting in Krugmar, this never would've happened.

Waiting for the fire to burn out, Urara gazed around at the woods. The trees stood sentinel -- tall, grey, leafless columns. Occasionally, a bird would flutter between the branches. Urara closed her eyes. Her chest rumbled with every breath. The cold air felt like shards of glass in her lungs. Squirrels and birds fled startled from the inferno, hopping from tree to tree, filling the air with their chattering. Somehow, the crackle of the fire seemed even louder over the quiet snow. Urara cupped her missing ear, trying to muffle the noise.

A sudden crack in the underbrush shocked her back to reality. Slowly, Urara turned, gripping the handle of her skinning knife. A heavy shadow lumbered through the trees not fifteen feet from the clearing. The beast groaned at the sight of the fire, its breath rising as white clouds from its maw. Urara clenched her teeth. The snow bear was barely visible through the pale grey trees, but there was still no mistaking it. “Of all de skah’n times…” Urara growled, rolling the knife in her fist. The bear trundled haphazardly through the underbrush, bulldozing everything in its path. Bushes and twigs lay crushed under its feet. Swallowing hard, Urara crept after it.

Just the fur off the bear’s hindquarters could clothe six orcs. Its fur stirred in the breeze as it hurried away from the fire. Urara hurried after it. The knife felt heavy in her hand. For such a large, heavy animal, the bear ran incredibly fast. Urara had to sprint to keep up with it. Brain whirring with thoughts, Urara tracked it through the woods. How would she get it back to Krugmar? Would she have to kill it? How heavy was it anyway? The questions buzzed around her head like flies.

Finally, once the wildfire was well behind it, the bear slowed. Urara tensed, gripping her knife. The dwarf, the fire, and her burns all seemed unimportant next to the bear. She couldn’t drag such a large animal through the snow, but she could take its pelt. Warlord would still be impressed. After all, she’d still managed to kill a snow bear. On their hind legs, snow bears stood as tall as orcs. With razor sharp claws and wicked teeth, they were deadly to the unprepared hunter. Urara wasn’t going to let this one escape.

Knife in hand, Urara leapt onto the bear’s back, throwing her arms around its neck. The bear bellowed, throwing its head back and forth. Digging her fingernails into the bear’s fur, Urara stabbed it with her knife. Groaning, the bear reared onto its hind legs. Hot blood oozed from its neck, dying its fur a dark crimson. Urara slipped off the animal’s back, falling ass first in the snow.

Frantically, Urara skittered back. Dropping back down on four legs, the bear lumbered around to face her. Blood dribbled down its neck, splattering the snow. Coal black eyes stared at her from beneath a shaggy white brow. Teeth clenched, Urara rose to her feet. “Ain’t goin’ home empty handed.” Urara spat. The bear bellowed, exposing inch long white teeth.

The bear charged at her. Urara flung herself out of the way, just missing the bear’s swiping claws. Leaping at the beast, Urara jammed her knife deep into its neck, stabbing and cutting wherever she could. Moaning in agony, the bear swiped at her. Its heavy paw caught the side of her head, sending her sprawling in the snow. Urara’s knife flew from her hand, landing somewhere hidden in the underbrush.

“Skah!” Urara gasped, clutching the side of her head. Any moment, she expected to feel the sting of the bear’s claws. But no. When she looked up, the bear was already fifty feet away. The animal rolled off into the forest, leaving nothing but a broken trail of twigs in its wake. Urara blinked. Glancing behind her, she could see fire licking at the trees. The smell of burning wood and hair filled the grove. Slowly, painfully, Urara got to her feet. The bear, her prey, was long gone. Gritting her teeth, Urara kicked at the snow, “Of all de skah’n times...!”

[Swgrclan 2682]

Fantastic story. Good job.

[Urahra 5777]

Thank you.

Urara said "skah" 7 times in this story, about once every time she speaks. Just a fun fact. Urara has a skah'n limited vocabulary.

[Recklez 45]

O.o is it cool to be you? :P

[Urahra 5777]

It is pretty cool to be me, yes.

[Kickstarted and Running 965]

*mumbles to himself* I wish I was him.. stoopid orc... gets all the good stories... good adventures too... isn't he just soooo important... maybe I should just kill the orc... stoopid orc wouldn't be so cool then... *walks off mumbling to himself* :razz:

[Swgrclan 2682]

*mumbles to himself* I wish I was him.. stoopid orc... gets all the good stories... good adventures too... isn't he just soooo important... maybe I should just kill the orc... stoopid orc wouldn't be so cool then... *walks off mumbling to himself* :razz:

Urara is a female, bruh. :o

[skylarts 0]

Good story :D

[Urahra 5777]

It's okay. I know I am so hideous that people often mistake me for a man.

[Kickstarted and Running 965]

It's okay. I know I am so hideous that people often mistake me for a man.

It was an accident. I am just used to Orcs usually being Male. I meant to replace it with "Her" instead of "Him" but it slipped my mind.

[Lawrence Berell 226]

O.Ф

O. M. G girl!

[Ned Lud 1260]

Awesome. I was wondering how that grotesque scalp got butchered up like that. This reminds me that I need to increase my scar productivity until my head looks like a meatball with teeth.

[Urahra 5777]

Your head already looks like a meatball with teeth.

Now you just have to make the rest of your body look like it went through a meat grinder.

[Danny 2232]

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