MaximumPain
May 25th, 2008, 10:08 AM
Just a little short I wrote up to help build the background for my age of Conan character. Any critique would be welcome thanks.
Up to her knees the snow was as she trudged through the Cimmerian waste. With each step her previous steps begin to fill in from the blowing powder that swirled around her that same wind and snow that covered her tracks also filling in another set of tracks that she followed. She was a statuesque figure of strength and beauty sheathed in fur and metal a long straight sword clasped in her gloved hand strands of black hair flowed from under her helm and a bundle on her back carefully wrapped in furs a young baby seeing his first harsh Cimmerian winter.
Snow had all but erased the set of tracks she followed as she bent to continue tracking them to continue her journey of revenge. As the tracks filled in and could no longer be followed she cried in anger and despair vengeance shall be hers. Ahead on the path a light could be seen coming from a cabin ahead. She trudged onward she may yet taste the blood of her foes of the men who had murdered her lover and tried to kill her and their child. Cimmerian women were not weak like their civilized counter parts who are cowed and beaten by their drunken husbands. Indeed a Cimmerian woman will split your skull or slit your throat if it is what you deserve and many had fought on the battle field wielding sword and ax in defense of their homes and families.
Trudging through the howling winds and driving snow she approached the log structure. Its roof covered in 4 feet of snow its sides nearly buried in a massive drift. From inside the sound of laughter and the scent of roasting beef invited her to join them but she was here for blood.
Inside 4 Gundermen from northern Aquilonia enjoyed large jacks of bitter ale and large pieces of roasted beef. Typical of their countrymen the Gundermen had short blond hair and were short and stocky with broad faces. They sat together around a crude table boasting of those they had killed in their raid earlier that day. The Gundermen were advanced scouts for king Numidides III the tyrant of Aquilonia who undeterred by the defeat at Fort Venarium still sought to colonize the lands of the Cimmerians.
Snow blew into the small one room structure as the door seemed to open on its own. "Desius go close that accursed door before Ymir invites himself to some of our ale".
"Aye" said the young Gundermen as he rose to go close the door. As he stood and reached for the door he paused for in the pale light he saw the Cimmerian woman standing just outside, lips blue from the cold and green eyes that burned with the fires of rage. As he started to cry out and reach for his blade she struck her straight sword trusting straight into his gut to the hilt and sprang out a full foot in length from his back. Gurgling the warrior dropped to his knees and coughed up the blood that signaled an end to his short brutish life.
With a crash the table and chairs fell aside as the three remaining men jumped up drawing their swords with a song of sliding metal. They were to slow as the blood spattered sword swung in a low arc catching the nearest warrior just below the knee and slicing clean through the bone severing the leg. With a cry of pain the second Gundermen fell to the floor dropping his short sword to clutch at the bleeding stump that had been his leg. Spreading out the two remaining men stepped to each side in order to flank the now blood spattered warrior woman. She reacted by kicking a fallen chair at the man on her left his step back bought her enough time for a strike at the other. Her sword swung down but he was able to parry the blow as blue sparks showered from the impact. She stepped back from his counter swing and launched a vicious thrust at his throat, his sword came up nearly in time to deflect the murderous attack but it still struck home slicing a 6 inch gash in the side of his neck. He cried out clutching the wound as blood ran through his fingers. As the wounded man staggered back his comrade having kicked aside the chair pressed the attack on the Cimmerian woman. Raining down blows he drove her back the ring of steel upon steel and the groans of the dieing men filled the small room. Driving the Warrior woman back the Gunderman swung a blow at her midsection that struck true slicing a long cut through her shirt of chain mail and into the soft tissue below. She gasped clutching her wound and leaned back against the wall. Laughing the remaining Gunderman looked at her and said "now you get what's coming to you she bitch" he pulled back his sword for the finishing blow. Springing from the wall she pushed him back with all her strength. His death blow bit only empty air as she leaned back drawing a knife from her belt. Leaning close she drove the blade into his groin and ripped upwards. With a muffled cry the Gunderman tried to keep his guts in with his hands but she drove the knife straight into his jaw and up into the brain no cry was uttered as the final warrior dropped to the ground. Picking up her sword she silenced the cries of the man whose leg she had cut off, and drug their bodies out into the snow
Gasping in pain she pulled the precious bundle from her back and unwrapped her son. Placing him near the fire to warm him she took off her shirt of metal links to check her wound. Blood flowed freely from the large deep cut. Taking an old blanket she cut off a strip and attempted to bandage her wound. It was a deep wound and she would die with out the help of a shaman. Knowing she would never make the journey back to her village with the blizzard out side and her grievous wound she set about caring for her child. She put more wood on the fire and set about to suckle her child. He was a tough kid having survived the 20 mile walk in the harsh blizzard as well as being bashed against the wall in the recent battle he had not even cried out. But left alone here in this cabin with no mother to feed him he would surely die. As she contemplated their fate she told him the story of his father she knew he could not understand and would not remember the words but told him she did. He was a warrior from faraway Shem a brutal land of city states and blue/black bearded warriors. He had met Truesteels mother after a battle where he had served as a mercenary for king Numidides III and was captured by the Cimmerians. Demanding trail by combat he had defeated two powerful warriors and was granted life by the elders of tribe. He chose to stay with them and took a wife. He was killed by the Gundermen as they approached under a flag of truce and treacherously ran him through as he approached to parlay with them.
His mother survived a month but her wound was infected and she died in agony. Young Truesteel survived and was rescued by others from his village that were out looking for them. He now seeks to return to Shem where he knows his father is from perhaps he can find out more about his shrouded past.
Up to her knees the snow was as she trudged through the Cimmerian waste. With each step her previous steps begin to fill in from the blowing powder that swirled around her that same wind and snow that covered her tracks also filling in another set of tracks that she followed. She was a statuesque figure of strength and beauty sheathed in fur and metal a long straight sword clasped in her gloved hand strands of black hair flowed from under her helm and a bundle on her back carefully wrapped in furs a young baby seeing his first harsh Cimmerian winter.
Snow had all but erased the set of tracks she followed as she bent to continue tracking them to continue her journey of revenge. As the tracks filled in and could no longer be followed she cried in anger and despair vengeance shall be hers. Ahead on the path a light could be seen coming from a cabin ahead. She trudged onward she may yet taste the blood of her foes of the men who had murdered her lover and tried to kill her and their child. Cimmerian women were not weak like their civilized counter parts who are cowed and beaten by their drunken husbands. Indeed a Cimmerian woman will split your skull or slit your throat if it is what you deserve and many had fought on the battle field wielding sword and ax in defense of their homes and families.
Trudging through the howling winds and driving snow she approached the log structure. Its roof covered in 4 feet of snow its sides nearly buried in a massive drift. From inside the sound of laughter and the scent of roasting beef invited her to join them but she was here for blood.
Inside 4 Gundermen from northern Aquilonia enjoyed large jacks of bitter ale and large pieces of roasted beef. Typical of their countrymen the Gundermen had short blond hair and were short and stocky with broad faces. They sat together around a crude table boasting of those they had killed in their raid earlier that day. The Gundermen were advanced scouts for king Numidides III the tyrant of Aquilonia who undeterred by the defeat at Fort Venarium still sought to colonize the lands of the Cimmerians.
Snow blew into the small one room structure as the door seemed to open on its own. "Desius go close that accursed door before Ymir invites himself to some of our ale".
"Aye" said the young Gundermen as he rose to go close the door. As he stood and reached for the door he paused for in the pale light he saw the Cimmerian woman standing just outside, lips blue from the cold and green eyes that burned with the fires of rage. As he started to cry out and reach for his blade she struck her straight sword trusting straight into his gut to the hilt and sprang out a full foot in length from his back. Gurgling the warrior dropped to his knees and coughed up the blood that signaled an end to his short brutish life.
With a crash the table and chairs fell aside as the three remaining men jumped up drawing their swords with a song of sliding metal. They were to slow as the blood spattered sword swung in a low arc catching the nearest warrior just below the knee and slicing clean through the bone severing the leg. With a cry of pain the second Gundermen fell to the floor dropping his short sword to clutch at the bleeding stump that had been his leg. Spreading out the two remaining men stepped to each side in order to flank the now blood spattered warrior woman. She reacted by kicking a fallen chair at the man on her left his step back bought her enough time for a strike at the other. Her sword swung down but he was able to parry the blow as blue sparks showered from the impact. She stepped back from his counter swing and launched a vicious thrust at his throat, his sword came up nearly in time to deflect the murderous attack but it still struck home slicing a 6 inch gash in the side of his neck. He cried out clutching the wound as blood ran through his fingers. As the wounded man staggered back his comrade having kicked aside the chair pressed the attack on the Cimmerian woman. Raining down blows he drove her back the ring of steel upon steel and the groans of the dieing men filled the small room. Driving the Warrior woman back the Gunderman swung a blow at her midsection that struck true slicing a long cut through her shirt of chain mail and into the soft tissue below. She gasped clutching her wound and leaned back against the wall. Laughing the remaining Gunderman looked at her and said "now you get what's coming to you she bitch" he pulled back his sword for the finishing blow. Springing from the wall she pushed him back with all her strength. His death blow bit only empty air as she leaned back drawing a knife from her belt. Leaning close she drove the blade into his groin and ripped upwards. With a muffled cry the Gunderman tried to keep his guts in with his hands but she drove the knife straight into his jaw and up into the brain no cry was uttered as the final warrior dropped to the ground. Picking up her sword she silenced the cries of the man whose leg she had cut off, and drug their bodies out into the snow
Gasping in pain she pulled the precious bundle from her back and unwrapped her son. Placing him near the fire to warm him she took off her shirt of metal links to check her wound. Blood flowed freely from the large deep cut. Taking an old blanket she cut off a strip and attempted to bandage her wound. It was a deep wound and she would die with out the help of a shaman. Knowing she would never make the journey back to her village with the blizzard out side and her grievous wound she set about caring for her child. She put more wood on the fire and set about to suckle her child. He was a tough kid having survived the 20 mile walk in the harsh blizzard as well as being bashed against the wall in the recent battle he had not even cried out. But left alone here in this cabin with no mother to feed him he would surely die. As she contemplated their fate she told him the story of his father she knew he could not understand and would not remember the words but told him she did. He was a warrior from faraway Shem a brutal land of city states and blue/black bearded warriors. He had met Truesteels mother after a battle where he had served as a mercenary for king Numidides III and was captured by the Cimmerians. Demanding trail by combat he had defeated two powerful warriors and was granted life by the elders of tribe. He chose to stay with them and took a wife. He was killed by the Gundermen as they approached under a flag of truce and treacherously ran him through as he approached to parlay with them.
His mother survived a month but her wound was infected and she died in agony. Young Truesteel survived and was rescued by others from his village that were out looking for them. He now seeks to return to Shem where he knows his father is from perhaps he can find out more about his shrouded past.