The Battle of the Fields: The End
It was at that moment that everyone in the battlefield felt the impact of the words of fury coming from an unrelenting force of nature long twisted by the dark deeds of a mad king. Everyone from Asvard to Klegor, to Grimlen, to Nymeria, all the way to Hankir himself had heard the chilling words of a beast larger than all others, one who the Frost-Crier had a lengthily history with as he readied his sword.
Alvrwulf too readied his weapon as he stood besides his friend, the man who had raised him up from hopelessness all the way towards this moment. Encouraging an entire people to stand up not fearless, but courageous and making affront to those fears.
Brabad pummeled through masses of beasts and men alike, uncaring for anything in his path as he searched for only one man. The warriors of the Horde were wise enough to make way but for most in the Army of the North such was not the case as several would make futile attempts to stop the charging Brabad with absolutely no impact other than being sent flying through the air or tore apart by the jaws of the rabid werewolf.
Hankir readied his sword, holding tightly onto it as he dug his boots deeper into the ground, Alvrwulf stood right besides him. The two Nords knew this beast was heading in their direction, Hankir knew he was the one that Brabad wanted.
"You don't have to do this..." Hankir said as he kept his eyes fixed on the incoming werewolf. Alvrwulf looked at the Frost-Crier and nodded.
"You stood by me, I'll stand by you" That was enough for Hankir as then in that moment Brabad lunged from the sea of Nordic warriors and towards the human who had doomed him before. This time he would not fail his king, he would slaughter Hankir and bring his head to Fenris. Brabad fell downwards in direction of Hankir and Alvrwulf, both Nords quickly dodging the attack as Brabad landed upon the field with an impact that shook the ground nearby. Both Nords were in opposite sides of the beast, their swords ready.
"HANKIR!" Brabad roared, his claws out and ready.
"Come get me, mongrel!" Hankir taunted, Brabad needed no other motivation as he began to slice and jag at the Nord, their battle at the outskirts of Bellenwhood was reminded to both foes as Hankir blocked the werewolf's claws with his sword and Brabad fought with a furious fixated hatred that gave him prowess to challenge Xivious himself.
Hankir looked for any openings as he dodged and blocked, any kind of vulnerability in Brabad's attack as his attacks were fast and uncompromising in their resolve to strike at the Nord. He needed a gap, an opening, anything that allowed him to get a jab at the beast. But Hankir's determination to find a weakness was not enough as Brabad once more took hold of the Nord's weapon, the blade cutting deeply into the beast's palm but Brabad cared little for it as he pulled it away from Hankir and slammed him back several feet. Once more like before Hankir laid in the ground, his body aching and his chestpiece falling apart.
Alvrwulf would not let his friend die as he charged at Brabad, despite the wolf's sheer size Alvrwulf was prepared to stab at his back. He prepared his sword, raising it and pointing it down to drive it through the beast's exposed back. However Brabad reacted fast as he turned around and took hold of Alvrwulf by his head embedding his claws into his skull, raising him up Brabad opened up his mouth as he was about to bite off the Nord's entire head. It was then that the beast felt a rock land onto his head, causing him little pain but catching his attention back to Hankir who struggled to stand up, armed with nothing but his bare fists.
"It's me you want..." Hankir said defiantly, Brabad let go off Alvrwulf who fell upon the ground with a bloodied head. Turning back towards Hankir, Brabad's other hand let go of the Frost-Criers sword, leaving a trail of blood from his hand as he walked towards the injured for.
This time there would be no capture, no trickery, no saving for the Nord. Brabad's shadow covered Hankir as he struggled to rise up, he nonetheless faced Brabad's eyes squarely and without showing any fear. Brabad raised both arms up as he was prepared to smash Hankir into nothing but pulp of blood and flesh, he would savor this moment like no other.
"Oreldon," the weak fainting voice of Alvrwulf called upon Hankir as the soldier of Frosthold tossed his own sword to Hankir. Hankir then rolled through the ground in front of him, narrowly avoiding the pummeling from Brabad he was able to catch Alvrwulf's blade the Nord then quickly slid the blade down to the beast's left leg, causing Brabad to tremble down for a few seconds as he roared in pain.
Hankir was once more back in the fight as he then took back his own sword from the ground, armed with two blades the Nord held a defensive position once more, Brabad visibly distraught and frustrated as blood began to spurt from his hind leg. No longer was Brabad capable of fast furious attacks without expense.
Brabad and Hankir circled around each other, the Nord battered and exhausted while the werewolf was wounded and clearly under duress. No opponent dared to make a move for the time being, neither felt the battlefield around them, it was as if they were locked in a chamber where two had entered and only one would leave alive and it seemed as if the eyes of their respective sides were set upon them.
Hankir couldn't deny how drained he felt, his two swords at the ready and yet he felt that at any moment he would collapse to the ground in defeat. Brabad however still felt the anger and rage that had guided him throughout this ordeal, all the way since he had seen his life altered by his lycanthropy. Though the rational mind would say he had to be careful in his attacks now, his animal mind had already overtaken him and he refused to cower due to a flesh wound by a human, even though this flesh wound had trampled his ability to fight. Both foes knew this was it, this was the moment and what mattered now was who would take the first action, and who would persevere.
Hankir felt the urge to attack, his warrior self telling him to go forth and attack like that day in the outskirts and yet he refused to. He had learned his error, his mistake, his arrogance and pride had seen the best of him and he wouldn't allow such to be the case again. And indeed, it seemed the cooler mind persevered as Brabad let out a roar that once more echoed through all of the battlefield if not Norravägg itself and he charge forward towards the Nord, he readied to attack once more and to once more take hold of the Frost-Crier's weapon and see his final end.
I knew it Hankir's mind thought as he then dashed the first strike from Brabad who was slower in his actions now, avoiding his claws that came at his weapon and then leaping to avoid his second attack down to his legs. Hankir then drove his blades through Brabad's abdomen, piercing deep enough to nearly disembowel him. Brabad felt the fiery pain from this attack as he held onto his wound with one bloody hand and attempted a faint clawing in defense.
Hankir refused to let this beast escape as he turned back and carefully advanced towards the wounded Brabad. The beast roared at him with anger as once more his animal instinct got the better of him and as Hankir approached he attempted another claw attack only to feel Alvrwulf blade pierce through his throat and driven deeper by Hankir. Brabad's eyes widened as he looked at the Nord with shock, unable to even utter a single word as he began to gargle blood. Hankir had his own sword at the ready now.
"Off with you and your fucking horde!" Hankir said with a stern expression as he raised his sword.
The beast named Brabad, Beta of the Fenris Horde, second to Fenris himself, would not allow this Nord to get the satisfaction as with one last desperate move he lunged at Hankir with all his remaining strength. A roar came from Brabad as he was about to embed his claws and teeth into Hankir but suddenly the life of Brabad would come to an end as Hankir's blade landed right into the beasts skull all the way through into his brain. Hankir struggled as the entire body of Brabad went completely limp, lifeless and without any more ferocity. The Frost-Crier, Hankir Oreldon, "Stonebreaker" would push his blade deeper into Brabad's skull until finally pulling it out only to once more exerting all of his strength to push in the sword right through the beast's skull. Brabad was finally, dead.
As Hankir let out breaths of pure exhaustion and solace he began to pull his blade out of Brabad's skull, struggling as it was truly planted in like a tree to a its roots. Hankir did his best to pull the sword out, with both hands it pulled and slowly the sword began to exit. But it was too late for the Frost-Crier as then a werewolf, a Lead Warrior of all things, leaped and was in direction towards Oreldon. Thecnar was the beasts name, with his two swords at the ready to kill off the exhausted Hankir, Thecnar would see to it that his king's will was fulfilled.
Hankir still trying to pullout the sword from his fallen foes head his heart raced as Thecnar was just about to land upon him. It was then that a flashing light pierced through the air and right into Thecnar's chest, sending the wolf flying across the battlefield and almost near Fenris himself. Hankir was in complete disbelief as he looked at himself, unharmed and then around the battle.
"By wh-" as he looked behind him he saw none other than Adria, his own daughter, armed with her bow and having fired one of the arrows encrusted in Sokka's steel. He looked at her not with a stern expression of discipline, but with a smile of true pride, pride of her being his daughter.
"It works, the arrows work!" Adria said with a smile, soon her father and everyone would understand. Understand just how close victory was.
With the death of so many lead warriors, and now the death of Brabad himself at the hands of the Frost-Crier, several of the Lupan warriors who had once been loyal to Fenris began to cower and scatter in retreat. This fight was no longer worth it as it was clear that even with the help of werewolves the Nords were no easy foe and they would show no mercy to the Lupans if this battle ended in their favor.
"It is useless, run, run, scatter my brothers!" A Lupan warrior, Daidht who had long shown discontent within the Fenris Horde shouted as he alongside several other Lupans began to run retreat, the Nords fast on their trails. However, the werewolves of Fenris would not show such desire for retreat as they would strike down any retreating Lupan in their way and continue to fight the Nords with the same ferocity and viciousness as ever. Despite that, without the numbers of the Lupans the Horde was doomed.
It was then that rain and thunder began to befall upon the battlefield, but this was not casted by the shamans of the Horde but rather of Bolgrnolfr Homewrecker, the Jarl of the fallen Argin. He stood amidst several other mages, moving through the battlefield as Lupans scattered and warriors fought on. He called upon thunder that fell upon the werewolf lines and then fire which rained upon the retreating Lupans who headed towards the forests. Homewrecker would see to it that the Horde would not leave without further casualties.
"Dread take you!" Asvard yelled as he stabbed through another werewolf thrall. As its body fell down to the ground dead, Jorana decapitated another wolf that stood beside him. They nodded to each other. Surrounded by his fellow Nords, Asvard had led the charge that had sent the Lupans to flight leaving naught but Fenris's own changelings to deal with. As the King looked to the horizon and the rapidly rising sun, he felt in the first time in ages that victory was at hand.
A humongous roar echoed throughout the plains and up the mighty height of Orrin's Wall. Clouds obstructed the sun. Immediately Asvard felt it, a rising fear that paralyzed him and others because of what it heralded. The King turned to the source of blight, to the North of the battlefield where the wolves had come from. A flood, a endless sea of grey and black, a pack, THE pack, Fenris's hounds were charging down the plains at them, ravenous and bloodthirsty. Asvard tried to speak but the words lost form in his mouth, becoming nothing but infernal silence as the horde approached closer. He moved one foot forward with all the strength he could muster and then another to stand before the men that remained to him. The wolves were closer now, mere meters from their vulnerable line. Employing all the will he could find within himself, Asvard gave his command:
"SHIELD WALL!" The Nords broke from their stupor and locked shields with one another even as the effort drained their willpower. The werewolves crashed into their lines, rending the bones and flesh of anyone unfortunate enough to be without a shield sibling. The main line held, however, and that was all Asvard needed.
"ADVANCE!"
Though his sword shield felt heavy in his hands, his onslaught did not falter. Fighting side by side with his housecarls: Jorana, Harkon, Kelvroc, and Ulfgerd, Asvard hacked, stabbed, and slashed; block, parried, and bashed; feinted, struck, and blew.
The tide was relentless, however. The wolves seemed stronger in their fury, their eyes burning red with hatred. Asvard felt his shield slip from his grasp. The wolf responsible stood a head taller than the King and swiftly struck with his claws towards his exposed chest. Asvard fell backwards onto the dirt, his armor only barely protecting him from an early grave. As the wolf prepared to strike, Jorana separated it from its arm and stabbed the beast in its neck.
She turned back to the King extending her hand once, "This is no place to die!"
Asvard took it gladly with a smile, What would I do without her?
Three black claws emerged from Jorana's neck, spilling blood onto her gorget. Asvard's eyes widened, "JORANA!" Her own eyes flashed from shocked to pleading as she was lifted from the earth by the Wolf King himself: Fenris. He closed his clawed hand over Jorana's neck and squeezed. A crack was heard and Jorana's body fell to the ground in two.
"Greetings, Asvard," The Wolf-King smirked, "I've been eager to meet you."
It was on that moment that the Wolf-King would see himself pushed back by the pummeling force of both Nymeria and Hankir's own shields. The pair standing right in front of Asvard as Fenris stepped back.
"Let's end this!" Hankir said as he gave his hand to Asvard.
The High King of Norravägg would find himself surrounded by all the men and women who had followed him into this battle. The Frost-Crier Hankir, the Wolf-Queen Nymeria, the Jarls of Stormgard, Argin, Tarnak, and Highmarch and their respective housecarls, Klegor the Housecarls of Frosthold, Bardul the Orc freed by Hankir, and the masses of soldiers and warriors who had answered the call of Norravägg to face this threat. An uncharacteristic calm reigned over the forces of Fenris as he stood in front of them all, bodies laid across the entire fields of Reisenhall and the nearby Orrin Wall. The two armies faced each other in a moment brief moment of peace as the Wolf-King prepared to speak.
"You all have my respect," Fenris spoke up, his voice arriving to even the farthest end of the Nordic army. His remaining Lead Warriors stood right behind him.
"You've fought well and arduously Asvard, son of Iogæir, of the House of Ysmar, Jarl of Åleried and High King of Norravägg. Your warriors have proven their resilience in battle, but this is futile compared to what is to come, this war is decided. So I give you all one last chance, join my cause or die." With that Fenris remained quiet as he awaited the answer to his offer.
Asvard's eyes burned into Fenris's, "I'd be a damned fool... If I even surrendered to the likes of you!"
"So be it..." With those words and with a forward movement of his hands, the Wolf-King's entire army charged forwards. Asvard himself needed no words or gestures as the Army of the North once more charged and clashed with the ocean of darkness that was the Fenris Horde. Everyone slayed down werewolf after werewolf while Nordic warriors brave in their efforts fell dead onto the ground.
Hankir himself finished off a werewolf, slaying him down with ease as his eyes turned to Fenris who stood calmly within the heat of battle.
"FENRIS!" Hankir yelled out sword in hand and pointed at the Wolf-King, "CEASE THIS MADNESS!"
Standing only a few meters away from the Frost-Crier Fenris spoke, "The only madness I see, is you standing in my way..." he unveiled his own sword and slowly began to advance towards Hankir, Fenris had had enough of this Frost-Crier's constant defiance, of the constant defiance of a Norravägg that refused to understand his goals.
“Well I’m not alone" Hankir said as then Nymeria, Asvard, and all others stood right with him.
“You face all of Norravägg, beast. United as before to put an end to you.” Hankir declared with his sword still pointed at the incoming Fenris.
"You stand together... and shall die together!" With that Fenris gave the first blow as he drew his sword down towards Hankir, the Frost-Crier was able to dodge it as he alongside the warriors of Norravägg began to strike at the Wolf-King in quick secession. One by one, Hankir, Nymeria, Asvard, Klegor, Grimlen, and the rest slammed, sliced, clobbered, and bombarded Fenris with multiple attacks from multiple directions that he struggled to keep up with at first.
Hankir hit at the Wolf-Kings neck as did Nymeria, Klegor and Asvard while Grimlen sliced down his legs which made him kneel down as he then used his sword to block incoming attacks by Ulfgerd's hammer only to feel the pain by the axe from Kelvroc and the sword from Harkon. The housecalrs attacking in conjunction to avenge their fallen comrade but they would soon be pushed back by the might of Fenris. Bardul then went on to jab at the Wolf-King's back with little avail as he managed to block that attack.
Though the attacks were relentless, Fenris would not be so easily undone. Channeling his inner powers he summoned all surrounding air around him to then push aside the band of attackers. Soon after without little effort he began to block the attacks coming from the various housecarls, jarls, and soldiers of the Army of the North. The surrounding battle seemed to now be turning against the Nords as Fenris proved to be a much more powerful foe than anyone would expect. His movements were swift and precise as he showed his own prowess in battle.
"Slow and cumbersome!" He said as he blocked the attack from Grimlen's sword kicking him back towards the ground the Wolf-King then clashed swords with Rafthjar Banner-Bane. The Jarl of Tarkin was younger than Grimlen and proved his own worth with fast attacks directed at the Wolf-Kings sides.
"Fierce and confident," Fenris commented with a slight smirk Rafthjar's attack would not last as Fenris blocked his blade and with ease shattered it in half using his own fist, leaving the Jarl unarmed and at the mercy of the Wolf-King.
"MY JARL!" Ingete Mjorensson called out as she set herself between her Jarl and the Wolf-King's incoming blade, she did her best to push it back only for Fenris to pull back the blade and with fast motion drive it right through Ingete's steel chestpiece and into her heart.
"NO!" Banner-Bane cried with horror as he took a hold of Ingete's fallen sword and prepared to strike at Fenris, the Wolf-King easily avoided the attack and slid his blade right across Banner-Bane's face, with a single punch he was able to knock the young Jarl cold. Pulling his sword out of Mjorensson's chest Fenris diverted his attention to the incoming Bardul.
Fenris chuckled, "An Orc, it's been long since I fought one!" as he dodged the attacks by the Orc's pair of short swords.
"Less words, more fighting!" Bardul shouted.
"Indeed," Fenris said as he then cut off one of Bardul's hands, punching him right in the head with the hilt of his sword repeatedly until Bardul fell down to the ground completely out.
While Fenris busied himself taking down warrior after warrior it was then that Hankir turned to his daughter, Adria stood right a top of series of stones that overlooked the battleground. He bow in hand she looked at her father, Hankir gave a nod as then Adria readied her bow and the arrow, pointing it towards Fenris who was still slaying down soldiers of the defying army.
"NOW ADRIA!" Hankir yelled out, catching Fenris's attention for a second before a whizzing sound was heard and Fenris felt a deep paint pierce his shoulder piece. He looked upon what had penetrated his silversteel armor only to see an arrow. Taking it out of his shoulder Fenris saw as his own blood melted at the touch of the arrow head.
Impossible, Fenris thought with a shocked expression as his eyes turned towards the person who had fired that arrow, the girl. The girl from the catacombs, the one who had taken his son's sword. It all quickly began to make sense to Fenris as his heart began to pound fast at the fainted memory of his previous "death" at the hands of Arnthor so many centuries ago.
"It all makes sense now..." Fenris said with a lowly voice as he shattered the arrow and dropped it on the ground. His attention focused on Adria who was getting a hold of the next arrow.
"We can't let him get to Adria!" Hankir called out as he and the remaining warriors fought off werewolves that stood on their way to Fenris who calmly moved towards Adria. The girl fired an arrow, Fenris easily blocking it with his sword.
Another arrow, once again Fenris blocked it with his sword. Adria felt immense fear as she struggled to get a hold of another arrow from her quiver. She fired another and this time Fenris merely dodged it. He was not very far from Adria, ready to strike the child down and put an end to this army's only weapon capable to killing him, he would not be outdone by a girl yet of age.
It was then that Fenris saw himself attacked by Grimlen and Filbier, the two Nords charging at him with swords in hand. Grimlen swinging his blade to Fenris's side while Filbier went for the legs. The Wolf-King had not time for this as his paw pushed Filbier's sword out of his hand and his own sword blocked Grimlens. In quick motion he swerved Grimlen's sword, taking a hold of the hilt and hitting him right in the stomach with it, Grimlen struggled for a moment as he unveiled a dagger and drove it into the Wolf-King's arm causing him little concern.
"NO!" Filbier shouted as he moved towards the injured Grimlen who had now fallen onto the ground. Fenris for his part was still on his way towards Adria. Nymeria suddenly leaped from a pile of bodies letting out a war cry with all her fury and her sword drawn and ready to be plunged at Fenris's head and narrowly so, Fenris managing to elude the sword and clash blades with his own descendant.
"I expected better from a Fenring!" Fenris said with callousness as he took a hold of Nymeria by the neck, slamming her down on the ground with all his might.
Once more, an arrow whizzed past Fenris's head as Adria began to fall back in a panic. Fenris moved faster, ignoring everything at his surrounding. This proved to be a bad choice as Fenris suddenly saw himself engulfed by a ball of fire coming from his right. Bolgrnolfr Home-Wrecker stood alongside his housecarl Hernvid Ulfrorinson and the second in command of the Argin Riders Erik Blackthorn.
The aging mage twirled and moved his left hand in conjuration with his staff as Fenris was surrounded by face, his used levitation to carry Fenris upwards and hopefully get him in the best position for Adria to shoot her arrow. Home-Wrecker did his best to concentrate as any distraction could break the spell, meanwhile, Hernvid and Erik protected their jarl from incoming werewolves, Hernvid driving his sword through one's neck and Erik slicing the head off another.
"Shoot Adria!" Klegor shouted as he blocked the attack of a werewolf, he did his best to defend the girl from any harm. Willing to lay down his life for to make sure she was safe.
"I-i cant, I can't see him!" Adria screamed as she tried to aim but Fenris was not in sight, she only had a few arrows left and she did not want to waste them. Suddenly the levitating ball of fire became darkened, becoming a ball of hardened rock. Home-Wrecker struggled to keep the spell going as he felt the intense weight of the rock he allowed it to fall only for it to shatter mid air to reveal an unharmed Fenris.
Once more Adria fired, the arrow managing to pierce Fenris's other shoulder piece, he ripped it off in anger as he looked at the girl and once more resumed his way towards her. Home-Wrecker once more channeled his powers to stop Fenris in his tracks as bolts of blue lighting striked the Wolf-King, Fenris at first was at mercy of the attack but soon regained his strength, using his own hands to consume the energy off Home-Wrecker's attack the Mage Jarl of Argin and the Wolf-King of the Fenris Horde engaged in a battle of magic as Fenris diverted the bolts back and Home-Wrecker did his best to avoid them.
Adria only had two arrows left, she had to conserve now more than ever as she tried to get a good sight on Fenris but his chestpiece was still on and her arrow would not be able to hit his heart. Come on, I need an opening!
Meanwhile the Wolf-King and the Mage continued their battle, sparks and fire surrounding them as they continued to exchange bolts of energy. Home-Wreckers age was waning him down while Fenris himself knew this was a waste of time as Adria still lived and he was exposed during all of this.
"ENOUGH!" Fenris shouted as he overtook an entire attack from Home-Wrecker, using both hands to hold off the energy he then diverted it back to Home-Wrecker. The mage was then surrounded by a bright light which pushed away both beast and men alike including Hernvid and Erik. A cloud of smoke pilled across the battlefield once more and once it had settled Hernvid, Erik, and all men and women of the Northern Army saw shockingly that Bolgrnolfr Home-Wrecker was gone. No body, no clothing, there was nothing, not even a silhouette of where he had stood, this was good enough for Fenris as he took hold of his sword and once more advanced towards Adria.
"NO!" Hernvid yelled out as he alongside Erik charged at Fenris, the Wolf-King once more proved his prowess in battle as he easily deflected Hernvid's blade, thrusting his own into Hernvid's chest while then slamming Erik's head with his metal gauntlet. Quickly Klegor took action as he leaped from behind Adria, his sword directed to Fenris's chest who promptly blocked it and moved to avoid the next attack. The two engaged in a duel of vicious attacks from the Nord of Frosthold and quick reflects from the wolf-King until finally Fenris took Klegor out with a single punch right to the jaw, the Sea Bearer fell to the ground bleeding from his nose. With all three men on the ground either dead or knocked out just like the previous foes before them, all that there was now between Adria and Fenris was bodies.
A hammer of bone swung towards Fenris. Asvard had risen again, wielding the weapon of his housecarl,
The Wolf King turned to face him, "Your struggle is futile!" Fenris made to block the swinging hammer with his sword. It changed directions suddenly, swinging left instead of right and bypassing the Wolf-King's defenses.
"You were wrong to underestimate me!" the warhammer cleaved into Fenris's chest-plate, sending shards of steel and silver in every direction. What was left was a broken breastplate, exposing his heart.
"Take the shot!"
Without much hesitation and though her entire body felt as it it were about to break down with fear Adria let the arrow go. Flying through the air, the arrow whizzed closer and closer towards Fenris's exposed chest.
Asvard gasped. The arrow found mark in his back. Fenris held the High King before him a shield, blocking Adria's attack. The Wolf King growled as he tossed Asvard aside to the dirt, nothing between him and everlasting life.
With a look of complete shock and once more trembling in fear Adria struggled to find her last arrow, her hand jumbling as Fenris now walked towards her. It was only a few meters between the two, the Wolf-King had gone through much, too much and this girl had the last thing that could ruin his hundreds years worth of work.
Adria was in utter terror as she fell down on the ground, the arrow falling behind her she was unable to get a hold of it. All that she had left was her dagger, she pulled it out and though shaking she held it to Fenris who ignored it as he prepared to strike. Tears fell across Adria's cheeks as she closed her eyes, fearful of the Wolf-King, fearful of death. It would not be the case, he would not allow such as he raised his sword, prepared to strike down at the small Nordic girl he grimaced.
CLING
The sound of a sword clashing with Fenris's was the only thing Adria heard as she opened her eyes to see her father standing right before her, his sword connected with the Wolf-King's as he was the last thing that stood before him and her. Hankir kicked back Wolf-King with all of his strength, his sword at the ready as he advanced forward.
"Get away from my daughter you mongrel!" The Frost-Crier said as Fenris did little but growl. The two warriors engaged in a fast and deadly duel, with Fenris swooping and swinging his blade up and down, attempting to hit at Hankir's legs and arms while also clawing at hims with his other hand. Hankir did his best to block and dodge, he rolled over as Fenris used both hands to slice at him with his sword then driving his sword down to the ground only to meet dirt and rock.
Hankir managed to cleave at Fenris's abdomen but there was little effect as the Wolf-King slammed him with his arm. Hankir fell onto the ground, his sword still in hand as he rose himself once more only to have Fenris clobber him with his sword right on the side of his armor and back onto the ground. Again and again, Hankir rose up and again and again the Wolf-King hammered him to the ground. It was then that Fenris took hold of Hankir's sword and with little effort shattered it in half, kicking down the Frost-Crier back onto the ground the Wolf-King clouted and smashed at the Nord with his sword, Hankir covering his head with his gauntlets as Fenris continued to beat him down to submission. This Nord, this constant annoyance, Fenris had him at his mercy and he was ready to see his final end as he took him by the neck just as he had the first time they had met.
"You could've have been so much more Hankir, so much more..." Fenris said as he readied his sword to plunge into Hankir's heart.
"And, you... Are nothing!" Hankir said as with all his remaining force he pushed himself forward and grabbing onto Fenris's arm and head. The Wolf King struggled to get the Nord off him but it was too late.
"DO IT!" Hankir yelled as then out of the corner of his eye he saw Adria, holding her bow once more and directed to him. Before Fenris would even act, all he felt was a piercing, deadly, burning piece of metal go through his chest. He struggled to breath at first as ash and smoke came out from his wound, with one hand he attempted to get a hold of the arrow and pull it out, it was then that Hankir would take hold of the Wolf-King's hand, pushing it off with all his strength as then within a quick moment and with his own eyes locking with Fenris's the Frost-Crier of Bellenwhood took hold of the arrow and pushed it deeper into the Wolf-Kings chest, right into his heart.
Fenris gasped and looked down at Hankir with mouth agape, unable to form words. He fell to his knees as the wolves of his horde began to shift and contort back to humans or beastfolk, deprived of all the power he had given them. They looked at one another, shaken and powerless, and then to their King, bloody and defeated, who looked smaller than he ever had before.
"You did it..." his voice was low and mournful, "You've put an end to me..."
Hankir continued to glare down at the Wolf-King, continuing to hold on to the last seconds of his life, "You brought it upon yourself, beast. Your life is at an end."
Fenris chuckled dryly and looked up towards Hankir. His eyes were the color of a vibrant ocean, changed from the red eyes he had born previously, "It seems it has..." His fur began to blow away into the wind, his body shrinking further to the size of a man. When the last of his wolf form and dissipated into the wind, nothing was left but a bearded man of dark brown hair and sad eyes.
"I spent my life regretting everything I did, and hiding myself away from the family I had dishonored. Malincar claimed my soul as his own, and that of Ignaa and Serana because in my pride I dared to grasp for something greater than myself... something more... freedom." he paused, "he abandoned me as soon as I wasn't of use to him..." Fenris looked up to Hankir, he had aged noticeably, his hair turning grey and wrinkles spreading across his body, "The Divines... the Dreadlords... they're too sides of the same coin, Frost-Crier," The Wolf King began to blow away into dust, "May you never find yourself to be abandoned... as I was.... Hankir...."
"At last, he is gone..." Adria said with exhaustion as she stood beside her father. The large armored warrior had seen better days as blood ran across his face and his entire body was covered in muck, dirt, and visibly in disrepair, but that did not matter. Hankir looked at his daughter with a faint smile as he set his arm around her.
"May he find peace there," He said with a tired voice. The father and daughter looked to the battlefield as the rain fell upon them, Hankir allowed the water to cover his entire face, the cool rain running down his brow and stinging against his many fresh wounds. It was a moment of life, a moment of peace, a moment he had not felt in such a long time and he could share it with his daughter. The only soul left for him in this world, what he had always had to fight for, she had proven herself a fighter and a warrior just like him. He had always been proud of her but in this time, he felt that she had proven she was just as much a Nord as any if not more, and he only hoped she knew that.
For her part, Adria felt happy to be with her father. To have fought this arduous adventure right beside him was an honor she felt only a few could've shared. She didn't say much, she just smiled just as he did. As the two staggered forward, Hankir and Adria were meet by Asvard who was helped up by his remaining housecarls, with the giantess Ulfgerd doing most of the heavy lifting. Hankir struggled to move, but nonetheless he stood straight to salute his king.
"I am still at your service my King, for all that you may need..." He bowed his head.
Asvard had a small smile on his face as he set his hand onto Hankir's shoulder, the feeling of loss was fresh as he recalled Jorana, but the High King had to show perseverance despite it all.
"For now, all I need is for you and the others to rest. We must gather the bodies, chase off the stragglers and tend to the wounded and the captured. There is much to do, and I will need people like you to help me, to be... A Champion of Norravägg," Those words drew gleaming eyes from Hankir as he raised his head to look to Asvard. The young High King nodded, the two men had gone through much loss but now, the hardest of all things was over, all that was now, was to rebuild. Little did they all know, what was occurring in the south, events just as destructive if not much more so than what they had just faced. Nonetheless, for now, Hankir and Adria could rest.
