Here's the rewrite of chapter 1. Also, during my research, I found out Creta is a female name, so I'll be changing the Centurion's name to something else.
Beta read by Snipern0sniping
Ylfur raised his shield, parrying a heavy blow from the Black Prior's sword. Knocked back from the force of it, the Warlord was able to stab his opponent in his unprotected neck, quickly ending him. He brought his attention away from his dead enemy up to the battle ahead of him. He and his men were laying siege to one of the Iron Legion's Walled Cities, their ram having already broken down the fortress's outer gate, their inner gate now within sight.
"Push forward, warriors!" He shouted to the men pushing the massive siege engine towards their goal. "Show these Legion bacrauts the bravery of Týr!" The pikemen protecting the ram cheered in response before preparing themselves for a wave of enemy soldiers. Ylfur prepared to charge in and fight alongside them but was stopped by a shout above him.
"Jarl!" He turned his head upwards, meeting the gaze of a fighter on the rampart. "We need help! They aren't letting up!" He pointed towards the second archer point they were trying, and failing, to take. Ylfur growled in frustration before making his way up the stone walkways, slaying an enemy officer on the way. Climbing up the ladder to the top of the battlements, he was met by a few pikemen and an officer; the archers were busy shooting at the Vikings pushing the ram. While the last attack on the point hadn't been successful, it'd clearly weakened them.
He saw their eyes widen as he drew his sword and shield off his back and prepared for battle. The pikemen readied their arms and began advancing on him. While their shields were larger than his, they were of significantly lower quality. A solid blow would shatter them. And it was because of this that Ylfur quite literally threw himself at them, sprinting forward with a mighty war cry before leaping into the air with his sword raised high.
He crashed down on the nearest soldier with overwhelming force, destroying his shield and lodging his blade in the Knight's skull. He wrenched it free before kicking another hard, knocking him on his ass and leaving him open to a stab to the gut. The Warlord felt a sudden impact against his back as the final pikeman got a hit on him, though it didn't pierce his chainmail.
He spun around with his sword-arm outstretched, taking the man's head clean off before kicking his corpse away. He turned his attention to the officer just in time to block a powerful swing from his two-handed longsword. He backed up and sized up his enemy, clad in basic iron armor, though it was thicker than the pikemen's and would be harder to penetrate.
But he wouldn't have to worry about that, as a spear suddenly erupted from the officer's chest, making him stumble in surprise and drop his weapon. He fell to his knees, revealing the Valkyrie casually walking up from behind. She planted her foot on his back and pushed him to the ground, forcing her spear through him. She grabbed the handle and ripped it out, ignoring the fact it was covered in blood. Ylfur smiled upon recognizing who it was.
"Gudrid!" He shouted as he approached, the spear and shield-wielding woman meeting his gaze. "Took you long enough to get here." He laughed.
"Someone had to save you from yourself." She retorted with a chuckle. With the archer point conquered, they moved to the edge where their archers fired on the enemy and looked out over the battlefield.
"How many warriors did you bring with you?" He asked.
"More than enough. Is the ram strong enough to make it to the inner gate?" He removed his helmet, revealing his full white beard and hair flowing down his neck, and looked at the siege engine passing slowly beneath them. Aside from a few small fires spread out over the frame, it was still in good condition.
"It should be able to make the rest of the journey." Gudrid nodded. After a moment, Ylfur put his helmet back on, obscuring his face with its snarling visage. "Stay up here and help take the rampart. I'll return to the ram." Without another word, the Valkyrie took off, leaving the Warlord alone on the battlement.
Looking out over the field and to the enemy garrison, he spotted the one calling the shots among the defenders. A Centurian in golden armor that looked to be of royal make. Even his underclothes, at least his pants, were black with fancy blue patterns sewn in. The warrior shouted some orders in Latin to the pikemen under his command before sending them towards the ram. Afterward, their gazes met from across the battle, metal visage to metal visage. It was only a moment before the rival leader took off to defend the rampart, but it was enough for Ylfur to know he'd cross blades with him by the end of this siege.
He descended the ladder down to the battle that was taking place over control of the ram. He charged in with a roar, impacting the enemy horde with his shield raised, catching one and pushing him through the group out to the other side. Before he could kill the Knight himself, an arrow from above beat him to it, embedding itself in the pikeman's neck. He looked up to see one of his archers briefly give him a thumbs up before returning to raining flaming arrows on the enemy.
With the backs of the enemy ahead of him, he started cutting them down with wide, heavy swings. They began to panic, as they now had to deal with both the Viking pikemen in front as well as a Warlord behind. That combined with the archers shooting at them from above, and the Vikings quickly eliminated the group of Knights.
With the way clear for the ram, those pushing it quickly closed the distance to the inner gate and began raising the ram, preparing it to strike. The breaking of the gate turned into a cycle. Those operating the massive contraption would wind the ram up until it was ready, then they would release, meeting the wood and steel gate with overwhelming force, each strike further weakening it. In the meantime, Ylfur and his pikemen would protect them from any who would seek to stop them.
Within no time, the gate fell in pieces, clearing the way for the soldiers. Those who had been pushing the ram pulled it out of the way before grabbing weapons and leaving, as it was no longer needed. Ylfur could see the fortress's commander at the other end of the field, a large man in full plate armor with a giant sword, shouting to his men to defend him. Ylfur would need only strike him down, and the Walled City would be all but his.
He looked up at the rampart, seeing Gudrid leading a force of pikemen in an attempt to take the archer point, though she looked noticeably worse for wear. She was covered in deep cuts that bled freely, though she didn't let that stop her. That Centurion must've given her a beating, though the fact that he couldn't see the Knight leader anywhere made him think she'd bested him in the end.
As a Berserker was about to run past him, he stopped him with a hand on the shoulder.
"Lead these men in a charge against the commander." He ordered. "Lure him out of cover, and I'll hit him with the ballista." The Berserker grinned and nodded.
"More blood for me." He growled before sprinting forward and meeting the enemy with twin axes. Ylfur took a right and began ascending the steps to the ballista nest. Once he was in position, he placed a bear trap within the doorway to stop anyone who would seek to kill him while he was distracted before taking control of the large defense weapon.
He had barely even begun aiming when he heard the grating of metal on stone as the trap behind him went off. He groaned in annoyance and turned around to face his foe, but was surprised to see the Centurion from before, none the worse for wear. Looking down, he noted a dropped brick had set off the trap. Ylfur drew his sword and removed his shield from his back, getting into a combat stance, the Centurion merely twirling his gladius and preparing for battle.
They circled for a time, sizing each other up. While most Knights serving the Iron Legion obtained their armor based on how much Steel they had, those from the Great Empire, like Centurions, earned theirs through skill and little else. He would have to be careful with this one.
Action finally came in the form of his foe suddenly leaping forward and aiming a heavy overhead stab that Ylfur made to block. The blade impacted the shield with surprising force before Ylfur felt an armored fist hit his gut with great strength. It knocked the wind out of him, allowing his foe to punch him in the chin, knocking him backward. As the Warlord hit the ground, the Knight lunged into the air, aiming to pierce Ylfur's heart with one strike.
The Viking rolled to the side, the gladius embedding into the ground due to the force of the attack. Ylfur kicked the Centurion in the leg hard, making him grunt in pain and lose his grip on his weapon. Ylfur slammed his shield into his head, knocking him back and allowing him a chance to stand up.
They both stood at the same time, though now the Centurion was without a weapon. As Ylfur twirled his sword, taunting his opponent, the Knight got into a boxer stance. Centurions were trained in unarmed combat, the reasoning behind them only using a single one-handed weapon during battle, as it gives them the freedom to grab and punch their opponent. Just because he didn't have his gladius didn't mean he was any less dangerous.
Ylfur lashed out with a quick vertical swing from the right, catching the Centurion in his unarmored bicep, though the wound was only shallow. In a show of boldness, the Centurion responded by grabbing Ylfur's sword by the blade along with his shield, wrenching them both out of the way before headbutting the Warlord hard enough for him to lose his grip, dropping his gear. With both of them now disarmed, with one preventing the other from retrieving their weapons, they resorted to hand-to-hand combat. While the Centurion was quicker and more agile, Ylfur was a beast of a man, with blows to match.
The Knight threw a right punch, but Ylfur blocked it with his forearm, allowing a free shot right into his opponent's chin. The metal stung his fist, but it looked to have hurt the other guy more, as he stumbled back a bit and grumbled in pain. The Warlord made to take advantage of this weakness, but the Centurion quickly recovered, dodging Ylfur's swing. He grabbed the Viking's shoulder and brought his face down on his knee, stunning him in turn before punching him square in the face. If it weren't for his faceplate, his nose would be shattered for sure.
In a shout of rage, Yflur charged forward and ducked down under a punch, grabbing the Centurion by the waist and hoisting him up before continuing the charge, intent on slamming him into a wall. He'd seen many a Raider do this without issue, but the difference was they knew the proper technique for getting an enemy over their shoulder. Ylfur had never done this before, so the best he was able to do was get his opponent just barely off the ground and charge forward blindly. Unfortunately, it seemed the Nornir had other plans.
His eyes went wide as his feet met empty air, and both warriors went flying out of the hole in the wall of the ballista perch, plummeting down to the hard stone below. They hit the ground hard, both having the wind knocked out of them as Ylfur landed on his front and the Centurion hit his back. Luckily, the fall wasn't too far, and his helmet prevented him from smashing his skull against the ground, but he wouldn't be surprised if the impact broke something, even if he couldn't feel it right away.
As they were slowly getting up, the pain now hitting them, Ylfur looked back and saw a boulder from a catapult hit the ballista perch, completely obliterating it and sending debris flying. The blast also launched the two warriors' weapons down towards them, landing next to each other nearby.
Ylfur stood up, a hand on his head as all his senses began to return. Before he could thank the Nornir for this unbelievable luck, he heard rumbling above him. Looking up, he saw a massive chunk of the wall begin falling towards them, too fast for them to move. That was when he first heard the Centurion speak.
"Damn." He grumbled in frustration, right as the massive slab of stone fell atop them, killing both instantly.
X
Ylfur awoke harshly as he impacted the ground. He yelled out and shot to his feet, his eyes wide as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He reached for his sword and shield, but his hands met empty air, increasing his panic. He spun around, looking for any signs of an enemy, but he only saw the greenery of trees and grass. He spotted the gleam of his sword embedded in the dirt nearby, his shield leaning against it.
He sprinted forwards and took them up, the rough leather grips bringing some amount of comfort in his calloused hands. Looking around once again, he noted he was in a forest clearing, though how he was here could only have been the work of the Gods.
He breathed heavily as he calmed himself, his heart rate steadily decreasing with time. His heart no longer going at a million miles a minute, he was able to take stock of where he was more clearly. While he was clearly in a forest, he had no idea how or where. He and that Centurion had been crushed by falling rubble. He had felt his bones crack and snap under the pressure, his soul leave his body, his equipment shatter beyond repair. Had the Gods themselves saved him from Hel's cold grip?
That didn't matter right now. The work of the Gods would be for naught if Ylfur died here, so he had to figure out where he was. He wasn't the best survivalist, but he knew enough to get by. If he wanted to get his bearings, he would have to climb a particularly tall tree so he could see his surroundings more clearly.
With a new goal in mind, he set out into the forest, his senses on high alert for any hostiles, be they warrior or predator. As he walked, constantly tense, he came across a few wild animals, deer most abundantly, but Ylfur didn't have the necessary equipment to hunt one, so he let them run off. Despite this forest seeming relatively peaceful, he had a feeling deep in his gut all was not what it seemed.
He'd been gifted from birth with a keen sense of when something wasn't right, and while he had kept quiet about it in his youth, he'd fully embraced the blessing by the time he became a Warlord. And something about this place was setting off all kinds of alarms in his head.
After some time, Ylfur finally found a rather tall tree with branches that looked sturdy enough. However, he wouldn't be able to climb it with his armor on, as the added weight would likely snap the wooden footholds. He quickly removed his armor and rested it against the trunk of the tree next to his weapons, leaving him in his tunic and trousers. He circled the tree, looking for a good spot to start climbing, and found it in the form of a few strong branches close to the forest floor.
He tested the branches by lightly stepping on them and was relieved when they held. He began ascending the tall tree, the branches becoming more robust as he got higher. He figured he could've worn his armor and would have been fine, but he would rather not risk it. He reached the top of the tree and peeked out of the leaves, giving him an expansive view of the surrounding forestry. At first, all he saw was an unending sea of green, swaying slightly with the wind. A swarm of black clouds floated in the distance, the wind steadily blowing it in his direction. They would likely be upon him soon, so he would need to seek shelter. But soon, he spotted what looked to be a cliff, the ocean just beyond, and as he followed it, he was shocked to see a massive structure far off.
It was difficult to tell from this distance, but it looked to be almost the size of a Walled City like the one he and his men had been laying siege to. It was a castle with a massive tower sprouting up from the center, reaching for the sky. It perfectly encapsulated the vanity of the Iron Legion; always trying to conquer was what not meant to be conquered, even the skies.
He scowled as he descended from the tree. That Knight structure was his only hope of salvation for as far as he could see, giving him no choice but to make his way there. If he were lucky, he'd find a way in without being spotted. And if not, he'd rather die in battle than of starvation in the middle of the wilderness.
Once he was back on the ground, he donned his armor, took up his arms, and was about to set out when he heard a branch snap somewhere to his left. He whipped in that direction, sword and shield raised as he stared down whatever hidden threat was just behind the foliage. He watched in tense silence for a moment before he heard further shuffling.
"Out! I know you're there!" He shouted. In a flash, a massive black creature shot out of the bushes and charged straight for him, snarling and howling with pure rage. His eyes widened in shock as it neared.
"Odin's beard!" He raised his shield just in time to block its strike and used his great strength to push it back enough for him to get a better look.
It looked to be a massive bipedal wolf with pitch black fur, glowing red eyes, and bone spikes jutting out along its spine, arms, and legs. Its head was encased in a bone mask with glowing patterns carved throughout. Its hipbones and ribs were visible, though he wasn't sure if those were the actual bones or just armoring. Its claws and teeth were razor-sharp and looked capable of tearing through flesh with ease.
It crouched down on four legs and began skulking around Ylfur, looking him over with a disturbing intelligence. This was no simple beast. Whatever it was, it meant him harm, so he would treat it in kind.
He hit his shield twice with his sword, challenging it directly. It responded with a snarl before lunging at him with force. He crouched down and let it land on his shield, using the momentum to flip it over behind him. He had seen Black Priors use this technique in the past and had learned to do it himself. But while they had their shield's size to help them flip their opponent, Ylfur's was much smaller, so he had to rely on his raw strength to flip the monster successfully.
It hit the ground on its back, allowing Ylfur the chance to stab it in the chest. It howled in pain before striking out, hitting him in the gut. He saw a flash of blue and was sent flying back but quickly regained his footing. Looking down at his stomach, he expected to see his guts hanging out from such a blow but was surprised to find not even a scratch on him.
Taking this as a sign, he grinned and looked back up at the monster as it stood. It was holding its wound, but instead of bleeding, black smoke was pouring out. He'd missed its heart, but he was still determined to win this fight. By this point, the clouds had rolled in and rain was pouring down upon them, soaking the battlefield. He let out a war cry before charging forward and leaping into the air, his sword raised high. It dashed to the right out of the way of his attack and struck his side, letting off another flash of blue but not sending him off his feet. The pain was harsh but dulled by whatever force protected him.
He let out a shout as he ducked under a second swing and, in the same motion, severed the creature's right arm at the elbow. It roared in agony at losing one of its limbs and stumbled back, eyeing him with hate and wariness. He held out his arms and laughed.
"I am Ylfur, Warlord of the Warborn, chosen by the Gods!" He shouted with a wide grin hidden by his helmet before pointing his sword at the monster as it howled in rage. "And you, beastie, shall be sent to Helheimr in pieces!" His boasting done, he charged forward to close the distance. Once within range, he blocked a swing from its remaining arm before raising his shield and smashing into it, knocking it to the ground. The blow had dazed the beast, allowing him to climb and stand on its chest, pinning it to the ground. He let loose a mighty roar as he raised his sword before plunging it up to the hilt into its black heart. It tensed up as its eyes went wide in shock before going limp, the beast slain.
He ripped the blade out before turning his head to the sky and crying out in victory, lightning flashing overhead. But as it did so, it lit up the field, showing a significant number of lesser wolf monsters, though none looked as large as the one he had slain. It must have been the Alpha of this pack.
As he looked down, he noticed with some surprise the tattoos visible on his arms were glowing blue. Briefly looking down his shirt, the rest of them were doing the same. Along with that, his blade and shield had various bright markings covering them. He could feel the strength flowing through his veins as he gazed out over the battlefield, what had to be a dozen wolf beasts snapping and snarling at him.
"Come on, then!" He laughed as he stepped off the Alpha's corpse. "Come and feel the power of the Gods!" Lightning flashed as the pack charged him, his sword and shield raised, a new song ready to be added to his saga.
X
Rapax walked through the rainy forest in a relaxed stance, his gladius gripped in his right hand. This place had proved very strange, indeed. It looked for all appearances like an ordinary forest, all except for the dark monsters roaming about. The wolf beasts looked vicious and fearsome, which was why he was confused when they left him alone. They acted as if he weren't even there, which baffled him. He'd even gotten close enough to touch one, but they left him alone wholly.
He wasn't complaining. He'd rather not fight one of these fantastic beasts if he didn't have to. Creatures such as this trained for war would quickly turn the tide against the savage Warborn and foolish Dawn Empire. Perhaps when he found his way back to Ashfeld, he could inform the king of this place. That would certainly come with a hefty reward.
When he had first appeared here, he thought perhaps his soul had been taken to Heaven. But when he came across his first Dire Wolf, as he'd taken to calling them, he knew this was not Heaven. A demon such as that would never be seen anywhere near the home of God, let alone within its gates.
He had considered attempting to mount it but had dismissed the idea. They may be docile now, but he had no idea how they would react to such an action. He would rather not die another foolish death, not after being saved from the first.
Rapax didn't consider himself a religious man. He believed in a higher power but did not actively worship it. But upon awakening in this forest, his armor on and his blade not far, he hadn't taken long to determine God had spared him for some unknown reason. Perhaps he had a purpose that was not yet fulfilled?
In any case, he had to find his way back to civilization. Unfortunately, due to these Dire Wolves being utterly new to him, he assumed he was in a new land undiscovered by the Iron Legion. Because of that, he had no idea how long it would take for him to return, if at all. It didn't exactly help that his best plan of action at the moment was to simply walk in a random direction until he found something. He was beginning to seriously reconsider mounting a Dire Wolf.
But as he was about to seek out a Dire Wolf and try his luck, one sprinted past him, snarling and growling. It bumped into his arm, its strength and speed almost knocking him over. He growled in annoyance until he noticed where it was going. In the distance, he could hear what sounded like fighting, though in between the clashes of steel, he could've sworn he heard laughter and strange popping noises.
Turning around, he saw what he could say was a Dire Wolf Alpha about to pass him. Throwing caution to the wind, he reached out and grabbed onto one of its bone spikes as it ran and used the momentum to swing himself up onto its back. When it didn't react negatively beyond a quiet growl, he figured he might as well continue. He found a spot between the spikes along its spine where he could sit, leaned forward, and grabbed the fur on its back.
"Progressus!" He shouted, spurring it forward, and he was surprised when it obeyed, following the direction he leaned. As he neared the fight, he heard a woman scream, the sounds of battle ceasing soon after. He then broke through the treeline, finally seeing what he had been hearing.
There was a large pack of Dire Wolves surrounding two people, a woman and a man, who looked to have been fighting each other. The woman had short black and red hair with a black corset, skirt, and a silver cloak. She was lying on the ground unconscious, the man standing above her with a mad grin stretched across his face. His hair was brown and tied back in a ponytail resembling a scorpion's tail. He wore an unbuttoned brown coat, exposing his scarred chest, his pants held up by a strange-looking belt. He was rearing back to finish off the woman with a pair of odd wrist blades. It was clear who deserved to die here.
As he rode toward them, he drew his gladius in his right hand and raised it.
"Pereo!" He shouted, garnering the man's attention. A confused and shocked expression quickly replaced his mad grin as he saw Rapax riding the Dire Wolf Alpha.
"What-" He was cut off when the Centurion swung his sword, catching him in the temple and sending him to the ground.
Rapax dismounted the Dire Wolf, but instead of running off or joining the pack, he was surprised when it turned around and stood by his side, growling at the mad man. It seemed they were far more susceptible to orders than he'd initially thought. And to think, this discovering was from a simple act of desperation.
"How dare you abuse my Goddess's children?!" The man screamed in rage.
"Cease your ranting, dementis, or I shall cut your tongue from your mouth." He threatened, painting his gladius at him. He discreetly held his other hand behind his back, ready to draw and throw his pugio at a moment's notice. The man simply shouted some inconsequential insult that Rapax wasn't listening to, as he was busy focusing more on his erratic body language than what he was saying.
The man suddenly lept into the air with both weapons poised to strike. Rapax dodged to the side before grabbing his shoulder and slamming the pommel of his sword into the base of his neck, aiming the snap it quickly. However, there was a flash of light as some unseen force protected him from the blow, making Rapax pause in confusion. That gave the man an opportunity to kick backward, hitting him with more force than what his thin frame looked capable of.
There was a red flash over his chest as this same force protected him as well. He would question this later. For now, he would have to break the power preventing him from slaying his opponent while keeping his own intact. He threw his pugio, the small dagger whizzing through the air and hitting the man in the shoulder as he charged him, making him stumble. He was clearly tired from his previous fight, as his attacks were sloppy but still surprisingly quick.
The Dire Wolf Alpha suddenly lunged on the man, forcing him to the ground on his stomach. It began clawing and biting at him, gradually wearing away the force protecting him. Growling in frustration, he did something Rapax did not expect.
A long scorpion tail suddenly sprouted from his tailbone and weaved around the Alpha until it pierced its skull from behind, killing it instantly. Quickly getting out from under the corpse, the man shot the tail towards him, aiming for his neck. Acting on instinct, he grabbed the tail with one hand just before it reached him, holding it firmly as he examined it.
"Interesting. This is new." He said absently before raising his blade, but before he could severe the offending limb, a boot met his face, forcing him to let go. He dodged a slash aimed at his face and grabbed his arm before slamming the pommel of his sword into the man's face twice. As predicted, the man made to block the third strike with his forearm but instead received a boot to the gut, sending him stumbling back.
Rapax feigned throwing his gladius at the man, and when he raised his arms to block the blow, he aimed down, the sword embedding in the ground at his feet. He looked at it confused, wondering if the Centurion had missed until he looked up and received a mighty metal fist to the chin, sending him into the air and shattering his invisible shield.
The combination of losing his protection and the force of the blow had dazed the man considerably as he groaned on the ground. Exposed, Rapax stood over him, kicking his arm down when he tried feebly to raise it. He twirled his gladius, preparing to pierce his heart, but before he could, a swarm of black birds that seemed to be spawned from wherever the Dire Wolves came from attacked.
They repeatedly pecked at his body, but his armor and invisible shield kept him from harm. Unfortunately, it didn't prevent them from going for his eyes, making it impossible to see what was happening around him. If only fighting off birds had been in basic training. By the time he was able to fight the things off, the man had escaped, making him growl in frustration.
"Ignavus." He muttered. With the battle over, he turned his attention back to the unconscious wound, only to note a stab wound in her side that definitely hadn't been there when he had first arrived. He must've gotten her before running away. All the Wolves had fled as well, which was strange to him.
He sheathed his sword and kneeled by her side. He checked the new wound first as if it had been from the would-be murderer's tail, she could die of poison. Fortunately, the damage looked more like it was from his wrist blades and not his tail. It was far too clean to be the tail but was still very deep.
He usually wouldn't bother to save a random woman, but he was in an unknown land and needed all the help he could get. She was also far too finely dressed to be a simple commoner; she was likely a noble's daughter. He knelt down and reached into one of his pouches, retrieving some bandaging for the wound. He removed the clothing blocking the injury and wrapped her waist around the wound. It would be the best she could get until she awoke and could point her towards a village, or he found one himself. He was just glad to know there were other people here and that they spoke Common.
As he did this, he spotted a Dire Wolf burst out of the treeline and begin making a beeline towards her. So it seemed they would attack some people on sight, but not others, like Rapax and the mad man. He stood and held his hand out.
"Desino." He ordered sternly. Immediately, the Wolf stopped in its tracks and slid to a stop before looking at him expectantly. Unfortunately, it was only a lesser Dire Wolf and not the great Alpha he'd had control of just before.
"You will have to do." He sighed with a hand on his face. "Crouch down." He ordered, but it acted like he hadn't said anything. It simply stood there, staring at him with those glowing, red eyes. His brow furrowed until he thought of something.
"Insideo." He repeated in Latin. The beast immediately obeyed, laying down enough for him to easily access its back. So, they only obeyed him when he ordered them in his native tongue. Perhaps that was why the mad man had not called them like he could, as he did not know the superior language.
Once he was sure the woman wouldn't die on being picked up, he slung her over the Dire Wolf's back before mounting it and setting off to find shelter from the still pouring rain. Off in the distance, he could've sworn he heard a wolf howl being sharply cut off, but he assumed it was just the wind.
I like the rewrite of this far better than the original, and I hope you lads enjoyed it as well.
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