Thrain - Part 23: Felling A Northbear
Njalor and Erik are attacked by a Northbear, and defeat it...but not without complications.
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It weighed more than ten men but moved with staggering speed, clearing a distance of thirty feet in half a second. The corded shoulders vibrated when the clawed paws bit into the ground, flexing as the beast thrust itself forward.
Erik withdrew his ax, and they both stepped away from the windshield, it would not do for that to be trampled. Njalor withdrew his own ax, and they stood back-to-back and waited. They did not wait long.
Like an anvil crashing through the snow, came the bear, thundering, beating, barreling up the slope. Just before it struck the men they leapt; this was a confusion to the beast and it faltered a moment, determining shortly to turn on Njalor.
Ferocious, frightening, and towering high it launched forward, slicing swiftly with sharp claws. Gasping, Njalor nearly slipped on the ice so urgent was the press of his boot into the snow in retreat from the attack. But no respite was given as the second claw arced around like a flying boulder bristling with spears.
Harsh screeching split his ears as the claws scrapped across his ax, and the power of the blow pushed him to the ground. Hungry, angry, open came the maw of teeth, seeking for his face.
A high battlecry filled the air, and Erik gashed the monster across the back. Like a cat the size of a shoe it whirled quick and blew the giant off his feet with a backwards paw; he could scarcely believe the speed.
Gritting his teeth, Njalor rose. He would let no friend perish while might remained in him. Dropping the ax he drew the spear. The other had broken in his fall and he tossed it aside.
Lunging true, he stuck the flank of that great hide and round again the Northbear turned. This time its paw found no mark, raking the empty space. It roared a terrible roar and beat the ground, then as if before it had been slow it sprang at him, covering three times the length of his spear in air.
Ducking and falling to the side, he avoided the outstretched claws, but they whistled, so close had they passed his ear. Yet even as it crashed to the ground and shook the land, he saw his chance. Wrenching forwards he sank the spear into its gut, shouting loud.
As fast as it had before it turned, ripping the shaft from his grip and sprawling him across the snow. Fury filled its form, and it moved slow and knowing. By some blessing of Sklal, his axe he found with an outstretched hand, and wrestling it up he swung.
The bear batted it aside.
Then from the left, same as it had, a cry filled the air and an axe and a knife lay siege to the beast. It turned, it snarled, and rose to swipe. And faltered.
Stuck deep within its flesh the spear now sealed its fate, and Erik’s weapons found their mark. Deep cuts they struck, first the head, then the neck, at last the belly. Pain filled the bear’s roar, and it fell to Aath. Its breath stopped.
The red-haired man eyed it, lowering his weapons but not putting them away. He glanced back.
“Brother. Can you stand?”
“Yes; it has taken only my pride. Perhaps, a lesson I needed.” He began to rise, and saw the bear’s black beady eyes open.
“Erik!”
Up from ground the beast arose, slicing straight across the chest. The man collapsed with a short, shocked cry. The Northbear turned, eyeing him like a giant spider playing with a fly caught in its web.
He did not have time to ask Sklal if he would have his blessing, properly. Fate was kind in this way, for if Sklal rejected him, he would have died to the bear anyways. Having given what few thoughts he had time for to the Lord of Sköll, he reached for the blessing.
It was given.
Straight through the air came the paw of the beast, furious, fast, and death. Against the blow he brought his axe, and now it staved the force. Dark and angry swung the bear again. Outstretched his hand then caught the blow and held it firm. Within his eyes there glowed blue flame, and it would have the bear.
Back and forth their battle raged, the bear struck and swiped and clawed, but Njalor would block and bob and brush, and send the blows away. At last an opening, and he struck, the axe sinking deep. Roaring, raging, desperate not to die, the bear lunged and bit.
The Thar lopped its head off.
Letting his connection to Sklal fade, weariness consumed him, and he staggered to Erik and fell to his knees. His lifelong friend grinned bravely up at him, but the snow was quite red.
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