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Back to Empire on the HPe3000
... and ...
I received a number of requests to post this story to the list
and if there are no objections I will do so, and post both to the list and
the newsgroup.
The Hill Giant Chief - Nosnra's Saga Part II
The Great Hall was empty now, though it had rung with peals of
hearty laughter, choruses of song and the clash and clatter of good
natured rough housing late into the night. Now an icy wind blew in from
the wide ventilation slots in the roof above the central firepit, a
massive circle of stone filled with bones and ash.
Nosnra's footsteps echoed across the hall as he followed Ursoth's
snuffling path. The bear padded slowly on all fours, nosing among the
sawdust liberally thrown over the floor to soak up spilt ale as well
as spilt blood, and stopped from time to time to swallow some tidbit
left by the now slumbering revellers.
The pair made a slow directionless journey, the bear at its own
pace and following only its nose, Nosnra walking behind, uneasy but
distracted by stray thoughts and half remembered dreams from his
interrupted sleep.
The hall appeared to him layered in memories of the past. His
father, Tofig, sitting at the high table while he, a mere boy, carried
forward the body of a centaur warrior and placed it before him. His father
stepping down and proudly cutting the heart from the beast, placing it
into his youthful hands, then marking him with the centaurs lifeblood,
placing on his brow the symbol of adulthood.
Engulfen, his fathers witan, a priest, wielder of magics and
advisor combined, stood at his shoulder. Laying his hands upon the heart
Engulfen summoned the power of the kindred, living dead and yet to be.
There was a burning that passed into Nosnra's outstretched hands, then the
heart began to beat. It pulsed with an eldritch life and burned at his
mouth and tongue as he bit and chewed the tough flesh.
"Now the beasts strength is yours" Engulfen said to the
crowded hall. "Now the strength of the kindred is yours" he called out.
"Nowyour strength is one with the kindred" he shouted.
Tofig stood before his son and held out a knife, its blade
made of jagged rock, its hilt carved from the horn of a some ancient
bast. "Now you are a Warrior!" he called out, and his voice rang with
the pride that was his renown. "Take this warriors blade" he said to
Nosnra, "As my father gave it to me, and his to him, as the first father
gave it to his son in the dawn of days when the kindred were born."
Nosnra reached out his blood covered hands and took the blade
reverently from his father. The dagger felt alive in his grasp, like
an extension of his own self, and for a moment he felt the presence
of each hand that had held it as he did now, a line disappearing into the
distant past.
Kneeling he severed the beasts tail, then stood, feeling
taller than any other within the hall and held it for all to see.
The cheer that met him almost knocked him back, it roared till the
rafters shook then faded into the grey mist of memory and times
past.
Nosnra stood alone amid the Great Hall, but for his bear Ursoth.
The wind blew a bonechilling stream and moaned a sad wordless tale that
he could not understand.
* * *