2.2 - Unexpected Ally

I couldn't wait anymore, I went in against them. A quick slash at one but it dodged to the side and both snap at me but my companions are there to intercede. I took the opportunity to focus on the closest wolf and bashed it with my shield. It stumbled and I pressed the advantage, one swing of the axe is all it took. I turned to the second wolf and saw Brynn struggling to get the right distance with his spear. I stepped in front, shield raised, we coordinated as I pushed the wolf off him but we couldn't make ground. The bigger wolf came in while I was distracted, I heard the snarl and felt the pain as it bit into my arm and tried to drag me down. I struck with the butt of my axe and it let go, but Sera had to step in to distract the other one, and I heard her cry of pain as it sunk its fangs into her leg.

I have grown rather fond of her in the short time we've known each other and upon hearing that my temper flared. The cool iron on my wrist anchored me, and reminded me of my vow to her. I won't let emotions take control or cloud my judgement. With a clear head I saw exactly what needed to be done. In two steps I was on the smaller wolf, the Commander smoothly stepping in behind me to engage the larger. It saw me coming and released her, but too slow. One kick to the face and I brought my axe down hard, hacking straight through its neck. I felt my pulse in the rune as it drank deeply of the wolf blood, I felt the flesh in my arm knit back together where it was torn. I didn't stop to check if she's okay. I knew she was, and I needed to end this. But something caught my eye; as the wolf's head hit the ground and rolled away there was a glint in the firelight, a collar ring. Things suddenly made sense. Why there were so few of them, why they were so desperate. They weren't wolves, they were feral dogs. Wolfdogs may be, but still a far cry from their wild counterparts.

As I turned to face the final and largest of the group, a new sense of respect grew in me. They stood against the wild, stood against superior foes, and died an honorable death. That means something to me. I took a moment, filled with heart, to focus. As I went in against the final wolfdog it was a duel as grand as any. Eventually it collapsed, exhausted and bloodied, and the blood runes faded as they sensed an end to the combat. As I looked down at my adversary it met my gaze, and looking into its eyes I saw a will to keep going that its starving body could never match; I let out a laugh. We stood against each other in mortal combat, one outmatched but no less fierce for it, and at the end we both lived. There is no stronger a bond to a warrior. I called for meat then, never taking my eyes off the wolfdog, and fed it till it would eat no more.

After we ate I found this one had a collar as well. Torn and filthy but there was a name and a mark, which the Commander recognized. There was a trader that came through Harrowfen several months ago who had no guards, instead it was merely his crew and a great many dogs. He probably wouldn't have remembered it otherwise, but the pack of dogs made a bit of an impression on everyone in the village. These must have been the trader's guard dogs then, but clearly they were attacked by the marauders we were hunting and these three made it out alive somehow.

The name scratched on the collar was 'Brack'. What an awful name. No great beast at my side could have such a base name. I bestowed a new one upon him: 'Vicejaw'. An appropriately legendary and very fitting name, as my arm could attest to last night. He had no comments about it but the others didn't see the vision.