Forests. Traithgren knew the forests, knew them like the back of his hand, just like he knew the plains, the valleys, the ravines, and the entire countryside. He knew it all; he needed no map to find his way. One would become bored with such monotony. Not Traith. The Barbarian loved his home, the wilderness and all around it. It was a place of purity, away from the will of man, away from the laws and rules of society, away from the politicians, the noblemen, the merchants, and left alone against the raw power of the earth with his kin.
"Traithgren." His father called out to him. "Get yerself ready, ye're goin" on the night's hunt." The large man nodded firmly to his son, then patted him on the shoulder. "Go get yer axe, or yer spear, not yer sword though, save that for cuttin" into men."
"I'm goin" on the hunt?" He asked with complete shock, he hadn't been told about that. "With Krethgar?"
"Aye, ye're goin" to learn how to properly kill yerself n"elk." The large chieftain nodded once more.
Traithgren was positively ecstatic with the news. The large boy, for indeed, he was large even at the young age of twelve, dashed off for his family's tent to go prepare for the hunt. His first hunt.
An hour later, the boy set out with a small hunting party of four. Himself included. There was Krethgar, the tribe's most skilled hunter, a mountain of a man, Vektragh, another young first time hunter like Traith, another more experienced hunter, Joltheim, then Traith. They moved swiftly, running almost silently through the trees, not disturbing any of the dense foliage of the forest floor. For such large men, they were surprisingly swift and nimble, as was needed when hunting the easily startled elk.
"Hold!? Came the harsh whisper from Krethgar as they neared a clearing where a small group of elk roamed. His hand lifted up, bidding the group to stay still, and stay silent, as he slowly inched his way forward. Traith stopped dead in his tracks as commanded, and gripped the wooden handle of his double headed axe firmly, waiting with eager anticipation.
The large man Krethgar reached the edge of the clearing, scouting out the terrain for any fallen tree limbs or a boulder, making sure it was clear and easy to navigate. So intent was he on his study that he missed the pair of luminous yellow eyes that peered out from him at the darkness. But Traithgren didn't. He saw the orc plainly in the silver light provided by the stars, and gasped. Before he could warn Krethgar, the orc was lifting its spear up, and preparing to stab down. Without a thought, Traithgren readjusted his grip on the axe, aimed, and let it fly.
The weapon flew end over end toward the unsuspecting orc, and connected with the sickening crunch of bone as the blade bit through the beast's skull, and sent it crumpling rather noisily to the ground. At first Krethgar whirled around, furious at the noise, but when he saw the crumpled and dead orc, he could only blink in surprise. Just like that, the forest was alive. Orcs streamed out of hiding spots, with goblins leading the charge, acting as fodder. One orc ran up at Traith with a long and crude sword, did a sloppy and lazy thrust for the boy's chest. He twisted his torso so that the blade grazed him, biting into his skin, but not deep enough to damage anything other than that. He grimaced from the sting, lifted an already powerful arm, and grabbed the beast's sword arm. His other hand moved to grab the orc by the more private areas, then Traith lifted him right overhead with a furious growl, and chunked him forward. The beast's back cracked against a thick tree trunk; his sword dropped, and fell to the ground in a daze that was fueled by the nauseating pain caused by the impact.
Traithgren seized his opportunity, ran forward and scooped up the orc's sword, then cleanly sliced the beast's throat out.
More orcs and goblins came, Krethgar cried out to Traith, who turned to see the man tossing his axe back toward him. He nodded his thanks to the hunts leader, and dropped the crude orc weapon, doubling his grip on his own tool, feeling reassured by its comfortable presence.
They fought many orcs and goblins that night, the four hunters. They killed many more. They lost a man, the young one who was Traith's age Vektragh, to the bite of an orc's spear. But the other three escaped relatively unharmed, with more than a score of orcs lying dead in their wake. That was the first time Traith had killed. An odd sensation had come over him with the first kill, euphoria of sorts, who knew it was so easy to take life away' At first, the sense of dominating power he garnered from killing the orc scared him, but as he thought, he realized he wasn't scared, he was excited, joyous. Killing, he had done so, and he liked it.
"Traithgren." His father called out to him. "Get yerself ready, ye're goin" on the night's hunt." The large man nodded firmly to his son, then patted him on the shoulder. "Go get yer axe, or yer spear, not yer sword though, save that for cuttin" into men."
"I'm goin" on the hunt?" He asked with complete shock, he hadn't been told about that. "With Krethgar?"
"Aye, ye're goin" to learn how to properly kill yerself n"elk." The large chieftain nodded once more.
Traithgren was positively ecstatic with the news. The large boy, for indeed, he was large even at the young age of twelve, dashed off for his family's tent to go prepare for the hunt. His first hunt.
An hour later, the boy set out with a small hunting party of four. Himself included. There was Krethgar, the tribe's most skilled hunter, a mountain of a man, Vektragh, another young first time hunter like Traith, another more experienced hunter, Joltheim, then Traith. They moved swiftly, running almost silently through the trees, not disturbing any of the dense foliage of the forest floor. For such large men, they were surprisingly swift and nimble, as was needed when hunting the easily startled elk.
"Hold!? Came the harsh whisper from Krethgar as they neared a clearing where a small group of elk roamed. His hand lifted up, bidding the group to stay still, and stay silent, as he slowly inched his way forward. Traith stopped dead in his tracks as commanded, and gripped the wooden handle of his double headed axe firmly, waiting with eager anticipation.
The large man Krethgar reached the edge of the clearing, scouting out the terrain for any fallen tree limbs or a boulder, making sure it was clear and easy to navigate. So intent was he on his study that he missed the pair of luminous yellow eyes that peered out from him at the darkness. But Traithgren didn't. He saw the orc plainly in the silver light provided by the stars, and gasped. Before he could warn Krethgar, the orc was lifting its spear up, and preparing to stab down. Without a thought, Traithgren readjusted his grip on the axe, aimed, and let it fly.
The weapon flew end over end toward the unsuspecting orc, and connected with the sickening crunch of bone as the blade bit through the beast's skull, and sent it crumpling rather noisily to the ground. At first Krethgar whirled around, furious at the noise, but when he saw the crumpled and dead orc, he could only blink in surprise. Just like that, the forest was alive. Orcs streamed out of hiding spots, with goblins leading the charge, acting as fodder. One orc ran up at Traith with a long and crude sword, did a sloppy and lazy thrust for the boy's chest. He twisted his torso so that the blade grazed him, biting into his skin, but not deep enough to damage anything other than that. He grimaced from the sting, lifted an already powerful arm, and grabbed the beast's sword arm. His other hand moved to grab the orc by the more private areas, then Traith lifted him right overhead with a furious growl, and chunked him forward. The beast's back cracked against a thick tree trunk; his sword dropped, and fell to the ground in a daze that was fueled by the nauseating pain caused by the impact.
Traithgren seized his opportunity, ran forward and scooped up the orc's sword, then cleanly sliced the beast's throat out.
More orcs and goblins came, Krethgar cried out to Traith, who turned to see the man tossing his axe back toward him. He nodded his thanks to the hunts leader, and dropped the crude orc weapon, doubling his grip on his own tool, feeling reassured by its comfortable presence.
They fought many orcs and goblins that night, the four hunters. They killed many more. They lost a man, the young one who was Traith's age Vektragh, to the bite of an orc's spear. But the other three escaped relatively unharmed, with more than a score of orcs lying dead in their wake. That was the first time Traith had killed. An odd sensation had come over him with the first kill, euphoria of sorts, who knew it was so easy to take life away' At first, the sense of dominating power he garnered from killing the orc scared him, but as he thought, he realized he wasn't scared, he was excited, joyous. Killing, he had done so, and he liked it.