AC 2021 - Final - Storm Veritas

[Storm Veritas]

The first head to raise was unmistakable, the wolf hopping to alert from a dead stop within a moment. The camp ahead was now under two hundred yards away; Storm could clearly see the demons roll up from slumber to an irritated state quite quickly. The monstrous demon seemed to roar to his left and right, but from here the wizard could not see if the adjacent camps were stirred.

There’s only three and the wolf. Old Man Sorian waxed three of these pricks back at the port town; you’ve got this.

His legs only trembled a bit as he broke into a light jog towards the camp. He decided he didn’t want to buy time for the other camps to come investigate; it was far safer to just forge ahead at this particular set of deathbringers and roll the dice. Notably, he felt no more steeled as he drew closer, seeing the vastness of the three demons, their heavy armor (which mercifully held metal, but also what he surmised to be bone) and large, stone weapons.

Stay calm. One at a time. Focus on the wolf.

Fortunately, the demons didn’t take time to talk strategy of plan out their surest course of action, one mounting the great black and red beast and darting ahead of the other two oafish fools, running headlong behind him. Like a wink from the gods themselves, the metal harness atop the wolf glistened under starlight, calling to the wizard. Storm Veritas was all too happy to oblige. He stopped in his tracks, his right hand pulsing a faint white as a modest bolt of electricity gathered at the tip of his knife.

Precision. We need the wolf. Wait.

The wolf and the rider bore down on him, some thirty yards away now, and

Wait.

he could see the great, dead black eyes of the beast, with fist-sized canines dripping with ravenous saliva, ready to

Wait.

gore him into a lifeless state, serving as merely a midnight snack. The wolf was no more then fifteen feet when Storm hopped hard to his right, pointing the dagger and firing a focused blast of current into the harness of the wolf, who stopped with a horrible high-pitched yelping sound, rolling over his right shoulder away from the wizard, tumbling over the demon rider in his track.

With absolutely no hesitation, Storm propelled himself forward to the felled rider, using an electromagnetic pulse beneath his shoes to rocket ahead with horrific speed. The supine rider flailed wildly at his own terribly broken left leg, not noticing his assailant before a dagger carved a deep ravine across his exposed throat. Black blood spurted and poured immediately, Storm turning his attention to the rising wolf again behind him while two terrible demons charged forward, now more angry and resolute than ever.

Come and get it, you filthy sons of bitches.

The demon on the right was truly horrific, at nearly eight feet tall and bony protrusions emerging from his shoulders like spiked pauldrons. There was no metal on this one, nothing to target or rip. It didn’t matter; the mage needed a moment or two to recover his own wicked powers.

The demon’s face looked black and dead, no details available behind a large mask of bone that seemed to come from the head of a massive bear. His speed was incredible, and Storm was unable to formulate a plan before a simply enormous black axe whistled through the night air from the looming goliath, a horizontal slash that left Storm immediately leaping and out of control.

Shit shit shit shit shit

A great, terrible laugh boomed as the demon pivoted and swung the axe broad side at Storm, the hard surface batting him through the air like a child’s ball. He crashed incredibly hard into the ground, rolling away and finding himself in front of both remaining soldiers, with the wolf behind them. The tantalizing metal collar beckoned, but it was too far back for him to make any use of. He scrambled to his hands and knees as the two demon soldiers marched toward him.

What do we have here, little fella?

The smaller demon wore a large, tightly-woven metal chain mail! Storm could barely control his excitement as he saw it, and lifted his left hand in the direction of the smaller demon, taking hold of the mail from ten yards back. An exasperated glare overwhelmed the face of the terrible, snarling monstrosity as Veritas lifted him from the ground, creating a puppet on strings. Like a focused fisherman, he then snapped his hands to the left, casting the mail (and the body within) at the larger demon, their bodies smacking with a terrible, vicious crack. A leg of the smaller fellow had come clean off from the impact, and the bone armor and body of the massive demon were similarly shattered. Two heaps, pouring a deep burgundy vileness upon the plains, fluid seeping into the ancient Alerarian cracks.

The wolf.

The wolf was barking ferociously following this terrible display, and Storm had to buy time with pomp and a showcase of his own power. He stood as tall as he could as the terrifying mount walked to the wreckage, sniffing at the bodies collected on the ground with some combination of anger, fear, and confusion. Veritas loomed close, his right hand pointing the dagger at the animal, knowing full well it would be useless if it tried to pounce before he had recovered.

“Settle. Settle. Settle.” His words were likely useless to the wolf, which had its lips curled back awfully from its long, savage teeth. The wolf was unimpressed, and began to circle laterally about its next piece of prey.

A second gift from the gods arrived as the wizard quickly felt his energy pulsing through his fingers. He couldn’t explain away the quick recovery, but it was never more needed. His body was beginning to ache from the terrible axe battering he recently caught, but it also surged with power once again. Smiling, he was more than willing to take the good with the bad.

“Down!” His command was joined with him manipulating the massive collar, driving it to the ground with a thud. With it went the wolf, who was now pinned down despite his struggles. Storm circled the beast, which snarled and snapped with a brutal futility, before hopping up on his back into the harness, which he was far too small to fill completely. He -slowly- relaxed his control on the collar as the wolf rose, holding on desperately as he tried to turn and rip and shred the rider. Hind legs kicked and flailed, striking the old adventurer and reminding him of the torrid headache that a night full of bad decisions had wrought.

Gods, no…

The wolf gave a magnificent fight, thrashing and snapping and snarling. With each turn, Storm rocked in the saddle, pushing away the head with a sharp pulse of magnetic energy, hurting but not wounding the wolf. The idea of pushing a dagger into the back of the terrible thing’s head was not lost on the wizard. With each electromagnetic push upon the collar, the wolf eventually became more reticent to flip back and bite.

Within an eternal minute or two of battling, the wolf had ceased trying to eat his rider, and Storm Veritas had dramatically upgraded his own means for scouring the plains. Storm was sweating, cold, and pallid, an exhausted wraith of a man barely hanging onto his bearings. Sitting taller in the saddle of his now minimally tamed mount, he wiped his face try and looked to his flanks, both camps on either side of him now stirring with increased motion.

Now was not the time to succumb to his exhaustion, or bemoan his alcohol fueled dehydration and malaise. Once more, the warrior in him had to rise.

The tides were turning.