haven stories!? :O
Well since SirHiss gave me the idea i realised i hadnt written anything in a long long time. So here it is.
It was a cold evening; our hero knew this because of the cold steady drip of the hole in the roof of his shack coming from the icicles protruding down from it, refusing to stop pounding into his skull. He sat up grumbled checked the tankard next to his cot, upon finding it empty he tossed it aside. He scratched at his beard his fingers quickly finding knots in the matt of his face fur, he got to his feet unsteadily as he lurched around looking for his clothing. The uneven wooden floor and the dank light not making the task any easier, eventually he managed to make himself decent and pocket enough gold to go out and get the days wine. Though this sorry tale of a man may not seem like much, the hero of our story was once a revered warrior of Horus a respected war leader and a great man! Until one day he was broken though it was never known why, he suddenly stopped fighting never to pick up his axe again never to stare death in the face and walk away from him with a smile. Our hero’s name was Gawyn Trakand.
Gawyn stumbled for the door to his dank “home,” really Gawyn didn’t care where he slept his sister took pity and got what money she could to keep him warm, this only shamed him further. As Gawyn reached the door it lurched open and a familiar pang ran through his shoulder as the door struck and knocked him back on his ass, Gawyn was too distant to care he merely pointed into the shack
“There’s nothing here, check yourself if yah don’t believe me just close the door after you let yourself out.”
“vell vell vell, vat do ve have ‘ere” Gawyn winced he knew the accent all Alsian nobles sounded the same way. Gawyn wished the intruder really was a thief.
“Am I really in ze presence of ze great Gawyn Trakand?”
Gawyn raised his eyes not bothering to get up from the slumped position he was in. Gawyn raised his eyes slowly taking in the stranger one portion at a time, He noticed his boots leather a dull pale purple that rose up to black leg plates up again to a purple leather tunic protected by a black breast plate, his pauldrons the same two colours the man was colour co-ordinated down to the hair on his head. Gawyn couldn’t remember the last time he had seen armour so fine but he had probably worn it. The man was handsome but his hair cut was harsh and tied back severely, Gawyn would have guessed he was in his twenties but nobles took care of themselves so he could be 10 years or so out. One thing was for sure this prissy little boy had never seen battle or Gawyn would eat a goblins ear! Gawyn shook his head and murmured to himself?
“Trakand eh? Small dwarf blood red hair looks like he was made on a blacksmith anvil?”
“Zat is correct”
“Never ‘eard of ‘im, only a drunken old man ere, well I should be drunk but pretty boys like you keep standing in my way!”
Gawyn rose and slowly staggered past the new comer, he even smelt like he rolled out of a bed of roses in the morning and he had the nerve to dress like a soldier. As Gawyn walked past he felt a tug on his hair and was hauled back. Rage filled Gawyn immediately he lashed out at the boy. Dwarves are stronger than nordo’s not by much but the weakest dwarf could always beat the strongest nordo in a fair arm wrestle, well except the archer clans but no one counted them anyway, Gawyn’s fist surged toward the side of the bastards knee, Gawyn waited to hear that sweet pop of a joint coming out of place but it was never found he had missed and the floor was coming up to him very quickly. His face broke his fall with a crunch, Gawyn grumbled a curse and went to push himself up, instead he found a very sharp arrow against his neck, the arrow was not normal it hummed with a power Gawyn thought that touching it would be a bad idea. He had experience with enchanted weapons but he didn’t realise they had started making enchanted arrows.
“I am not as cute as I look Gawyn, I have killed a lot of men in my time you would be no different, my name is Matrim Cauthon, and I have a job for you”
“Already got one!”
“Hahaha you call being a rough hand at a bar a job? Vell it vould be if you veren’t so drunk you don’t even lift a finger to help in a fight”
“So!? no one dies!”
“I don’t think zat is ze point, I’ve seen the boys going broken to the town conjurors”
“It’s character building!”
“Ai!! Ze dwarf stubbornness how I loathe it! Next you vill tell me zat your drunken stupor is just a ruse to make the people think you couldn’t stop them!”
“No, I was going to tell you to go fuck yourself!”
“AI!! I give up it vas a vaste of my time coming here!”
The pressure keeping Gawyn to the ground lifted and he got up a smirk on his face wobbling a bit as he found his feel.
“Mount up ve must move on!”
“Wait let me talk to him”
Gawyn’s heart sank at that voice, one he knew well, a good friend well before everything changed
“Hola fkr, it’s been a long time...”
“Not long enough by far, what do you want Karma...”
Gawyn turned to see the very tall woman in the doorway fur covered her from head to toe well he assumed it did, she wore a long robe one of the newer armours that Gawyn didn’t care for. She was pretty for an utghar but Gawyn preferred them a bit rough around the edges, she did have a penchant for Dwarves but she only had eyes for one of them, for some reason the craziest dwarf in the empire how he wasn’t dead a million times over is beyond anyone Gawyn heard he once survived his own funeral pyre on his ship after being pronounced dead.
“You didn’t hear Matrim out; we’re on a hunt for someone. Someone you have history with.”
“I don’t want to know I don’t care I will have no part in this bloody pointless war anymore!! By the Emperor I regret ever taking down those gates! He’d be rolling in his grave if he could see the way our men fight and the new powers that have been ‘gifted’ to us by the Gods. No I will not join you!”
“We’re hunting your old friend… Jakob”
Gawyn barked a laugh at his old friend’s name
“Then all you hunt is your deaths! Enjoy.”
“He has Columbia.”
That’s when Gawyn knew he had no choice... he had to go