Post by Thrym on Mar 7, 2008 11:02:55 GMT -5
‘I am surrounded by fools. Incompetent, simple minded fools.’
He stared up at the ‘ceiling’ of the well made tent he was lieing in. He hated this place. All the people in this tribe were simple minded fools, prefering to do things ‘the old way’.
Vyacheslav had always been somewhat of a tinkerer. He simply loved building stuff and making things. Despite his young age, the other members of the tribe considered him the most talented craftsman the little group had had for generations. Not that it made them like him.
He grumbled. Not that he liked them either. Simple minded people. He needed to get out of these empty, frozen plains. Away from all these fools. Needed to get somewhere people would appreciate his genius.
A sigh escaped his lips. He knew the truth inside. He had nowhere to go at all, had no idea what to do with his life. Sure, he could probably earn himself a decent living as a blacksmith or some other kind of craftsman in some village, but what kind of life would that be? There had to be something… bigger.
He was ripped out of his dreams by a shout. Giants? He blinked. Yes, that was what had been shouted. He leapt from the furs he was lieing on and grabbed his spear. He hated these people, yes, but having the whole tribe die certainly wasn’t in his best interest. Rushing out of the tent, he spotted it.
Odd. An armored giant, yet without weapons.
Towering over the tents of the tribe. He guessed the giant to be a good twelve feet tall. It’s build was odd, he was certain it was no kind of giant his tribe had ever encountered before. Whatever. He could have a look once it was dead. Taking a deep breath, he gripped his spear tightly and charged towards the giant who seemed to possess incredible strength, even for it’s size, flinging away warriors and crushing tents, seemingly without any effort at all.
Screaming madly, he lunged forwards, ramming the spear exactly through one of the openings in his titanic opponent’s armor with his full strength. It did not even bother to dodge. The spear hit easily.
And shattered.
Vyacheslav’s eyes widened as he stared at his broken spear. Impossible. He had made that spear himself. He simply knew it couldn’t possibly break by hitting flesh, leather, chain, whatever it was under that armor. Slowly he lifted his gaze and stared at the opening between the plates.
Steel?
No doubt. That was massive steel. Behind the armor. Lifting his head further, his gaze met that of the giant who had turned his attention to the new attacker. There were no eyes behind it’s visor. No face. Just more metal. As his eyes wandered over the creature, the young warrior realized one thing. That was no armor. That was no giant at all. That thing was not even alive, not seeming to breath, shift it’s stance, just killing mercilessly.
A massive fist connected with Vyacheslav’s chest, sending him flying dozens of feet untill he finally crashed into one of the tents, hitting his head on the pole supporting it.
----------------------------------------
Shaking it’s head, a robed figure gazed over the destruction before glancing at the giant, which looked more like a statue then the thing that had slaughtered the whole place mere minutes ago.
‘Seems the elemental spirit went berserk. Geez, what a bother.’
Turning it’s head to a collapsed tent, the robed figure watched a young man dig himself out of it.
‘Oh, a survivor.’ The figure yawned. ‘Sorry for the inconvenience, seems my little friend went berserk a bit there. Happens with those golems, you know?’
Vyacheslav stared at the man for a moment, before gazing at the blood covered, completely motionless giant.
‘Well, I’m off to Castle Perilious. Count yourself lucky, and please don’t try to avenge your tribe or something equally silly, yes?’
With that, the figure and the giant headed off, leaving behind a still shocked Vyacheslav.
----------------------------------------
After some minutes, he finally could think clearly again. Avenge his tribe? He could care less about that. He hated those fools anyways. Something else held his complete attention.
A golem. That thing hadn’t been alive. It had been build. Made.
Vyacheslav simply loved to build and make things.
He stared up at the ‘ceiling’ of the well made tent he was lieing in. He hated this place. All the people in this tribe were simple minded fools, prefering to do things ‘the old way’.
Vyacheslav had always been somewhat of a tinkerer. He simply loved building stuff and making things. Despite his young age, the other members of the tribe considered him the most talented craftsman the little group had had for generations. Not that it made them like him.
He grumbled. Not that he liked them either. Simple minded people. He needed to get out of these empty, frozen plains. Away from all these fools. Needed to get somewhere people would appreciate his genius.
A sigh escaped his lips. He knew the truth inside. He had nowhere to go at all, had no idea what to do with his life. Sure, he could probably earn himself a decent living as a blacksmith or some other kind of craftsman in some village, but what kind of life would that be? There had to be something… bigger.
He was ripped out of his dreams by a shout. Giants? He blinked. Yes, that was what had been shouted. He leapt from the furs he was lieing on and grabbed his spear. He hated these people, yes, but having the whole tribe die certainly wasn’t in his best interest. Rushing out of the tent, he spotted it.
Odd. An armored giant, yet without weapons.
Towering over the tents of the tribe. He guessed the giant to be a good twelve feet tall. It’s build was odd, he was certain it was no kind of giant his tribe had ever encountered before. Whatever. He could have a look once it was dead. Taking a deep breath, he gripped his spear tightly and charged towards the giant who seemed to possess incredible strength, even for it’s size, flinging away warriors and crushing tents, seemingly without any effort at all.
Screaming madly, he lunged forwards, ramming the spear exactly through one of the openings in his titanic opponent’s armor with his full strength. It did not even bother to dodge. The spear hit easily.
And shattered.
Vyacheslav’s eyes widened as he stared at his broken spear. Impossible. He had made that spear himself. He simply knew it couldn’t possibly break by hitting flesh, leather, chain, whatever it was under that armor. Slowly he lifted his gaze and stared at the opening between the plates.
Steel?
No doubt. That was massive steel. Behind the armor. Lifting his head further, his gaze met that of the giant who had turned his attention to the new attacker. There were no eyes behind it’s visor. No face. Just more metal. As his eyes wandered over the creature, the young warrior realized one thing. That was no armor. That was no giant at all. That thing was not even alive, not seeming to breath, shift it’s stance, just killing mercilessly.
A massive fist connected with Vyacheslav’s chest, sending him flying dozens of feet untill he finally crashed into one of the tents, hitting his head on the pole supporting it.
----------------------------------------
Shaking it’s head, a robed figure gazed over the destruction before glancing at the giant, which looked more like a statue then the thing that had slaughtered the whole place mere minutes ago.
‘Seems the elemental spirit went berserk. Geez, what a bother.’
Turning it’s head to a collapsed tent, the robed figure watched a young man dig himself out of it.
‘Oh, a survivor.’ The figure yawned. ‘Sorry for the inconvenience, seems my little friend went berserk a bit there. Happens with those golems, you know?’
Vyacheslav stared at the man for a moment, before gazing at the blood covered, completely motionless giant.
‘Well, I’m off to Castle Perilious. Count yourself lucky, and please don’t try to avenge your tribe or something equally silly, yes?’
With that, the figure and the giant headed off, leaving behind a still shocked Vyacheslav.
----------------------------------------
After some minutes, he finally could think clearly again. Avenge his tribe? He could care less about that. He hated those fools anyways. Something else held his complete attention.
A golem. That thing hadn’t been alive. It had been build. Made.
Vyacheslav simply loved to build and make things.