Dog of War (for Shinyhappyfitsofrage)
- Thread starter Ecnalab
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When Gwyllgi heard the voice, well. This time she was far from amused. She was blinded with wrath.
Gwyllgi moved faster than even the trickster might have imagined, suddenly under the auspices of magic that enhanced her celerity, and using the full brunt of her trained, mystical martial capabilities. She flashed in front of Loki, and wrapped a suddenly far larger than normal paw around his throat, seemingly thrice the size it should be, and slammed him up against a tree hard enough to crack it. She would squeeze his throat if she caught him, her eyes burning with flames that reached more than a foot away from her face, nine orange, glowing tails waving angrily behind her. She hadn't meant to reveal the true extent of her capabilities... but Gwyllgi was a creature of passion, and her passions were indeed stirred.
"WHORESON! I'll tear your glib tongue from your throat! Where is it taking her?!" Her voice was twisted, mutated. It was a cacophonous roar of sibilant whispers and blood curdling cries, her figure drenched in black mist that spread outwards from her. Her hair clung wetly to her as the strange substance coated her form, and began soaking everything around her. It had no scent, but it did sting the eyes a bit, to those within it.
Gwyllgi moved faster than even the trickster might have imagined, suddenly under the auspices of magic that enhanced her celerity, and using the full brunt of her trained, mystical martial capabilities. She flashed in front of Loki, and wrapped a suddenly far larger than normal paw around his throat, seemingly thrice the size it should be, and slammed him up against a tree hard enough to crack it. She would squeeze his throat if she caught him, her eyes burning with flames that reached more than a foot away from her face, nine orange, glowing tails waving angrily behind her. She hadn't meant to reveal the true extent of her capabilities... but Gwyllgi was a creature of passion, and her passions were indeed stirred.
"WHORESON! I'll tear your glib tongue from your throat! Where is it taking her?!" Her voice was twisted, mutated. It was a cacophonous roar of sibilant whispers and blood curdling cries, her figure drenched in black mist that spread outwards from her. Her hair clung wetly to her as the strange substance coated her form, and began soaking everything around her. It had no scent, but it did sting the eyes a bit, to those within it.
The body of Loki went limp as soon as it hit the tree, and to her fury Gwyllgi found that what she was holding was no god, but a very elaborate marionette. It hung in her hand, that same wry smile plastered on its face as Loki's voice echoed out from the trees around her. "Temper, temper," his tone was strangely free of mirth, more warning than anything else. "You're not the only one who would like to see her out of that beasts claws. I have invested quite a lot of energy in that young lady, and I don't like seeing my projects go up in smoke. As for where he has taken her, you won't have any trouble finding it, if you just follow the strings." At once the puppet in Gwyllgi's hand fell to pieces. All but a single string tied to the tip of her finger, fell away and sank into the mud. That single string lead off as far as Gwyllgi could see into the mire. "I'd advise you not to dawdle, that old wyrm isn't called the ravager for nothing. Best get there before the mood strikes him." With that last warning, Loki's voice faded away, and Gwyllgi was alone again.
Gwyllgi growled as the trickster made good his escape. She was good at giving chase... great at it, even. Good at seeing through illusions, incredibly proficient in battle.
As were dozens of other very powerful beings who'd see the glib-tongued trickster god dead.
It didn't matter... he was alive and beyond the reach of his enemies for a reason, and deep down, she knew this. She couldn't coax him into a confrontation, and she couldn't catch him. She ended up with a string attached to her finger, and no choice but to play along, yet again. She shook with rage, and her mind didn't hardly retain its faculties. When that rage overtook her, she was about as coherent as your average berserker. Still... she would do what she had to, for Iona. The 'ravager', as he was called, was a dead fucking lizard, whether it knew it or not. Loki was a problem for another time.
She followed the string, hoping that he wasn't simply deceiving her here. He could, easily enough, and she'd be on the other side of the bog while Iona was raped, eaten, or worse, for even worse things did exist in this world. She could hear his laughter now, viewing her failing to save her friend as a merry lark, knowing full well that he was beyond the reach of any consequences for his morbid little joke.
She'd kill them all. Her mother had rolled over too easily... Fenrir had been a pup, and they'd abused his naivete. But she wouldn't leave any of them alive.
She followed the string, rushing at a breakneck pace. The bog slowed her less, now... she was heated, and she left lava where she ran, drying the mud on contact and giving her traction. She'd already revealed one of her biggest cards, she wouldn't stand on ceremony now. She had to hurry.
As were dozens of other very powerful beings who'd see the glib-tongued trickster god dead.
It didn't matter... he was alive and beyond the reach of his enemies for a reason, and deep down, she knew this. She couldn't coax him into a confrontation, and she couldn't catch him. She ended up with a string attached to her finger, and no choice but to play along, yet again. She shook with rage, and her mind didn't hardly retain its faculties. When that rage overtook her, she was about as coherent as your average berserker. Still... she would do what she had to, for Iona. The 'ravager', as he was called, was a dead fucking lizard, whether it knew it or not. Loki was a problem for another time.
She followed the string, hoping that he wasn't simply deceiving her here. He could, easily enough, and she'd be on the other side of the bog while Iona was raped, eaten, or worse, for even worse things did exist in this world. She could hear his laughter now, viewing her failing to save her friend as a merry lark, knowing full well that he was beyond the reach of any consequences for his morbid little joke.
She'd kill them all. Her mother had rolled over too easily... Fenrir had been a pup, and they'd abused his naivete. But she wouldn't leave any of them alive.
She followed the string, rushing at a breakneck pace. The bog slowed her less, now... she was heated, and she left lava where she ran, drying the mud on contact and giving her traction. She'd already revealed one of her biggest cards, she wouldn't stand on ceremony now. She had to hurry.
The string lead her through the swamp, over fallen trees, under low hanging vines, and through thick tangles of brambles. Until, finally, she found herself in a large flat plain of mud, broken only by the odd twisted tree. At the center of this morass was a single tower of black stone that stretched over a hundred feet into the air, its top lost in the mist above. As she gazed at the edifice, deciding how best to make her assault, Gwyllgi noticed something else. Moving under the mud that surrounded the building were shapes. Shapes that slowly rose to reveal themselves as the same hideous dragr that she had encountered once before. The turned to look at her with those horrible stretched out smiles of theirs as the began shambling towards her. First one, then two, then four and eight, until some twenty of the wreched things had pulled themselves free of the muck and lumbered after her.
Gwyllgi encountered a horde of swamp dwelling draugr. She snorted. She didn't have time to fool with them... she'd strike quickly, and hard. Filler minions were nothing to her, especially in this mode. She'd dive one, strike a lethal, hellfire enhanced blow, and shoot an eldritch hellfire blast through its falling corpse, that would chain between four others. She flashed, and struck, and another would fall. They wouldn't come close to being able to keep up with her.
Still... she grew angrier, and angrier. She couldn't afford even the smallest delay. The tower before her had to be scaled... and she wasn't in the mood to enter. She took a running start and leaped at it, running up the tower a ways before she started having to melt herself footholds and handfolds, and even then, she maintained an incredible pace, climbing madly up the sheer face of the black stone.
Still... she grew angrier, and angrier. She couldn't afford even the smallest delay. The tower before her had to be scaled... and she wasn't in the mood to enter. She took a running start and leaped at it, running up the tower a ways before she started having to melt herself footholds and handfolds, and even then, she maintained an incredible pace, climbing madly up the sheer face of the black stone.