Howls of the Direwolves

The whispers of the gathered crowd flew in the air, thick as as noisy fog. It looked almost everyone from the surrounding vicinity had formed in a scattered circle around the fight, standing a safe distance away as sparks flew and blade clashed against club. 

The human warrior rushed forward with ferocity, his blade a blur of dancing light, smashing and pummeling and driving the Demihuman warrior back yet every strike met only metallic clang or whooshing of cut air, not once finding flesh. 

The Demihuman warrior was big, yet moved with a intense grace and strength. It was as if every move, every action and every effort was made with the intent and focus of seasoned predator. 

Rumius watched the deadly rondo play out in awe. He could almost feel a tempo to it. One for each warrior, and each trying to force their own tempo into the other. Rumius somehow knew it in his gut that once a single warrior made a mistake , they would be instantly be swallowed up the tempo of the opposing warrior. A single fatal blow would follow, and it would be over.

The club went down once more, bearing down with the force of an avalanche… to stop millimeters away from the upraised blade meant to stop it. 

With a deafening roar, the Demihuman warrior rotated her torso and put her entire weight behind a vicious sidewards swing. Six well toned pacs sung a violent melody that was punctuated with the sickening sound of crunching bones and grinding metal as the blow found it's mark.

A cry went up from the spectating crowd as the human warrior flew like a rag doll. He smashed into the ground, rolled in the dust and instantly lay unmoving.

The tension in the air as the Demihuman warrior roared her victory was almost palpable. People shuffled nervously. Some moved away while some left the scene as quickly as their two legs could carry them. It was obvious that something was going down here, and that the Demihuman victory was not a good thing.

But then again, good for who? What was even happening here? 

Rumius didn't have time to contemplate the question as the roar of the Demihuman warrior was responded with the cries of at least a dozen other voices. Howls, cries, growls and screeches to to the air in a dissonant symphony that chilled Rumius to the bone. Suddenly, staying around to watch the fight didn't seem like that good an idea. 

But then again, the fight was far from over. The human warrior struggled to his feet, but it was plenty obvious that he was on his last legs. He wasn't even facing his opponent as he fumbled around, dazed and bruised and completely without sense of direction. 

Rumius rethought the situation. Maybe it really was over.

The Demihuman warrior spat, her mouth moved but Rumius never caught the words she said. She turned and walked away, approaching what looked like a small bundle of cloth that lay on the side of the road. Rumius thought that she was going to use it to cover herself up but his eyes widened when he saw white fur catch sunlight from beneath the cloth. Snow white skin, blackened with dirt and sediment of the road. A small body, almost infant-like and small and thin that gestured desperately for the comfort of the giant's arms. White hair fluttered in the chilly breeze and whatever in the giant's arms shivered pitifully from the cold.

Rumius saw the giant woman reach down and pry her fingers into something around the neck of the person in her hands before the sound of grinding metal and a snap reached his ears. Two cold halves of a slave collar fell into the dirt and the giant picked the small figure into her arms and moved to escape.

The surroundings was in complete chaos and although Rumius thought he had heard crying, it was near impossible to make it out clearly. People were shouting, heavy footsteps pounded against the ground in all directions and the Demihuman warrior was seconds away from making her escape with a slave for reasons unknown when the sound of a explosion ripped through the air. A grunt and a crash followed. And so did a lot of smoke. 

His eyes was following the events as best it could when a voice broke his riveted gaze on the unfolding scene. 

" Apologies, this will get rough."

The Guard captain, who was still holding him up changed positions by effortlessly tossing him up into the air and slinging him over his left shoulder as if carrying a heavy load. His left hand came up and wrapped around Rumius's legs, fastening him in place before he took off from the scene. 

In an instant, the smoke cloud kicked up and already receded more than a dozen metres away and through it, sight of the giant woman slumped on the floor as a giant wound bubbled and festered on her back. The flesh around the wound had blackened as if torched. No blood flowed at all but the painful red crater that burnt deep into her back, through flesh and muscle was evident. 

The last thing that Rumius saw before the his guardian turned a corner and the scene left his field of vision, was a small figure shaking a larger one, and the unmistakable silhouette of a sword through the smoke.

Then, the howling started.