But the Wolf was only one small faction of the great battle at hand, for he was unknowingly stepping into a crossfire, as the ogre and his human friend lad the armies of good into the fire peaks to Mt. Doom, the home of the great fire Wyrm of old, and as the white wolf led his oun pack into the armies of the fire peaks, he was closely followed by the numerous great armies, led to destroy the evil in fire peaks. The wolf charged at the army of darkness, with there trolls, orks, goblins, and other great armies, teeth bit down on steal, and sword sliced through pelt, though the white wolf was immortal, his army was not, and the fast approaching military might would trap the white wolf in a battle he would never forget, as arrows rained from the sky, and battle cries were shouted, and the great fir Wyrm stirred and rose out of the fiery depths of Mt. Doom, rising out of the smoke and ash, opening his great blazing eyes, and soaring high into the sky, put forth a torrent of flame so perilous, none dared near it, and the great legendary battle between good, and avil, had begun.
and the great Wyrm did just that, as the battle raged across the region, the Wyrm realized that the forces of good were winning the great battle, there arrows flying through the air, and there horses galloping steadily towards victory, and as the orks were slaughtered, and the armies of berimond fell, and the Robber Baron King was toppled from his throne, the Barbarian princes falling like fly's, and the Wyrm realized it was hopeless, the goblins were powerless without him, and he turned on his followers, for they were unworthy to battle along side him, and they were swallowed by flame and smoke, leaving only the charred remnants of the once powerful militia.
the Wyrm turned on the wolf Fenrir, his fiery eyes blazing like fire, he spread his great leathery wings, and took flight, spewing forth his rage in a torrent of flame, Fenrir dodged just in time, but the castle lords of the great empire were not so lucky, many of them were caught in the pyre. Then the dragon swooped low in crushed a great many soldiers, scooping some up, only to drop them on the heads of others, Fenrir could not get close enough to land a good strike, but instead was forced to watch in horror as the Wyrm ravaged across the land, felling many great generals. No arrows could pierce his scales, no sworn could reach him, and no shield withstood the raw power of his will.
Now all seemed lost for if Fenrir could not land a blow, the prophecy could not come true, and Thor would never arrive.
And so the fate of men was sealed, as dragons tooth, and dragons claw, felled many soldier, and many kings, and one by one, they drooped to the ground like flies, until only the greatest, or the most cowardly remained. And they were few indeed, all that remained were the Empourer, a select few castle lords, and the cowardly King Ludwick the round. The Sea Queen had met death by flame, while the king in the underworld had mat death by claw. And in one sweep of his mighty tail, the dragon swept the remaining men to there death.
Finally the Wyrm turned his beady eyes to the wolf, "You are the only one left, I destroyed you pack when you were a pup, i have destroyed your pack now, and i will do it again!" roared the great Wyrm.
"There will not be a next time!" howled the wolf, and he charged the great Wyrm catching him off guard, but not quickly enough.
The dragon reared up and slammed his full weight onto of to wolf. "Ha, Ha, Ha, chuckled the Wyrm, but the dragon had made a crucial mistake, the bottoms of his feet were soft from disuse, and the wolf had sacrificed himself for a shot at the dragon, and had succeeded in landing a bite to his feet. The prophecy would come true, but none had survived to see it.
At long last Thor was sent with his mighty lightning hammer to finish the job, and the Wyrm and Thor battled through out the day, neither able to gain an advantage over the other, they say that the flames of the dragon, and the lightning of Thor could be seen from miles away. The fiery red torrent shooting through the sky, and the flashing of lightning combating, and they battled long, and battled hard, until finally Thor was felled from the sky but the battle was not over, for as he fell, Thor thrust his hammer forward, sending a bolt forth, striking the Wyrm with all his might. And together they fell to earth. Many sacrifices had been made that day to counter the power of the great Wyrm, and those sacrifices had not been in vain, for the Wyrm had been felled and the kingdom freed from oppression for a thousand years.
A massive troll, busy and in no mood for any of this nonsense, decided to leave his home in the Pleasant Meadows housing addition in the southern portion of Fire Peaks. He jumped into his truck and the big engine roared to life. He reversed smoothly out of his garage but suddenly caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. He slammed on the brakes and jumped out, ready to throttle the neighbors' kids, when he suddenly beheld that which had been missing from his heretofore mundane existence.
It was a great wolf, large and white. It's eyes shone with fierce pride. A great host of man-things and other similar varmints marched behind it, but the troll barely had eyes for them. He knew that this wolf was destined to be his, and his fenced-in backyard, a full two lots, was destined to house the wolf for eternity. Reaching down with one great, porcine mitt he seized the wolf by the scruff of it's neck, and heaved it into the box-bed of his truck. He whistled to himself as he clambered back into the driver's seat.
"We'll just drive on down to Dr. O'Shanter's, Mr. Fuzzybreeches" The troll said, more to himself than anything, but it amused him to imagine this great wolf as a sentient being. "We'll get your shots up to date, and maybe see about a little snipperoo...I know, I know...but I don't want you running off, and you're not using them, anyway..."
Quite pleased with himself, the great troll eased out of his driveway, punctuating his pleasure with the popping sound of man-varmint beneath his massive truck tires as he blazed a trail through the gaping horde, out of the housing addition, and onto the freeway. The troll had at last found companionship, and this tale at last had found it's happy ending......or so it seemed...
All this happened a great many years after the great battle, and it pleases me to remind you that the wolf is immortal, no amount of bone crushing strength could kill it, and this petty ogre, had no idea what he was getting himself into, for this was the great wolf Fenrir, who's magnificence was only comparable to the great lion of legend, who only appeared once every hundred years, his great fangs bared, reflecting, his shiny metallic claws glinting, and his golden pelt shimmered and shone radiantly against his scarlet mane. But none of these matched the magnificent of his eyes, for they were bright orange, interlaced with vanes of red, they were so mesmerizing, they say, that if you look straight into them you become hypnotized into a trance like state.
I'm staying out of this... and i was talking about the lions eyes, not the wolfs
The troll heard some bumping around in the bed of his truck. Shaking his great shaggy head, he reached down and turned up the radio. An announcer was yammering on about Cecil the Lion getting smoked, and Fenrir the wolf now having been kidnapped mid-adventure. He changed the channel, then slid back into his seat and let Waylon Jennings ease his mind as the big box truck rumbled onwards, towards the vet's office.
Backstory- the story of Cecil: Cecil had once been an ordinary lion, growing up in the fields of Berimond before the factions started there unending war, then it had been a peaceful landscape full of vast savannas and jungles. But then everything changed, the power hungry humans of Berimond warred against each other for control of the kingdom, the country was split in two, on one half stood the armies of the lion, and on the other was the armies of the bear, Cecil's pack fled seeking a better home, but Cecil was separated from his pack in a battle, and was taken as a pet by King Leopold the First, Leopold domesticated him, and Cecil pretended to love his master, but secretly he despised his guts. Cecil plotted his revenge, and gradually, pieces of the puzzle fell into place, and he turned on Leopold, escaping the clutches of the greedy king into the now baron wasteland now called Berimond. Cecil set out searching for a new place to call home, but he wanted to do more than that, he had the desire to stop all war, and to save all creatures from turmoil that caused Berimond to fall, it was this desire that caught Odens attention, he realized great compassion and bequty within the lions heart of hearts, Oden decided to help Cecil to his goal, and granted him a fountain of youth, this allowed Cecil to stay phisically young, but mentally wise. At first Cecil put his gift to good use, ending many wars and disputes, but he soon grew weary, and then a terrible war started between, K.O.N. and Misc, Cecil tried to end it, but only made things worse, the two factions went to war, calling upon there sub alliances and pacts for help, soon there pacts started getting there pacts into the war, and there pacts got there oun pacts into the war, and so on and so forth until the war became so big, it became known as the Server War, Cecil retreated in shame and defeat and now only leaves his den every 100 years, getting his meals fed to him by his Pride. It so happened that the night before the troll kidnapped Fenrir that the 100th year came. Cecil was now 300 years old and as large as a pickup truck, but as he emerged from his den, he was ambushed by the Neph Elite. For they did not want him trying to spoil there fun with the Server War. Cecil fought his way out, but barely, he sustained many wounds from the battle.
Backstory- The great troll
Maurice came mewling into existence in the deepest part of the night, when all the fireflies had ceased their amorous endeavors, and all the rug-burned babies had nestled into their dreamtime haunts. His mother had smiled that special smile when she first saw him, the smile that can only be given by mothers upon first beholding the precious fruit of their labors. He was a great, stone-grey mountain of a troll baby, every bit as sweet as any child born, and he gazed up at his mother with helpless adoration. It was the last time he would see her.
His mother now handed him over to his father, who marched purposefully to the door of their mountain home. A large group of trolls was gathered there, and they brandished cigars like scepters as they crowded in to congratulate the new father. He took all this in with a great show of sobriety, this wasn't his first child, after all, and it almost certainly wouldn't be his last. Stepping out onto the patio he was afforded a fantastic view down the endless slopes of the vast mountain upon which he made his home. He smiled down at his brand new troll-child, pinched it's little cheek, then kicked it, football style, off the mountain and into the valley below. Such is the way of rearing a young trolling.
And so Maurice learned to live, as all young trolls do, off the creatures of the valley. He ate all manner of varmints, some two legged, and some four. In time he became civilized, made friends, and found employment at a local factory. He moved into a subdivision on the mountain's lower slopes, and there settled into an existence as sterile as anything you might think of. He had even fallen in love once, or at least he thought so. It wasn't the feverish, insistent sort of love he'd seen perpetuated among the creatures he stalked...just something in the way her hair smelled like fresh hay, and her eyes always seemed full of forbidden flowers. She had left years ago, but in his heart she was still pretty and young. It didn't matter. Troll women were a pain. He needed a dog.
I must beg your pardon, Dear Reader, but i'm afraid we must still introduce some new characters to part two of the knights adventure, for we have majorly digressed from the original topic, for out main character is to be Sir Jeffrey Ogrecrony of Haerdean, As previously stated Jeffrey and the Ogre were in the great battle, and i did say that all but Thor and Fenrir had but mutilated, no i did not kill off the main character, nor did I force him into cowardice, for he was taken prisoner by the Necromancer, for he was a coward, and had fled from the battle seen immediately, abandoning his rallied forces to doom. but he had managed to capture one prisoner, who had been long forgotten as they never found his body, and all others had been killed in the fray. Once again I have digressed, is that all we do in this story? But back to Jeffrey, he had been taken to the Necromancer's secret fortress deep into the Valley of Thorns, the Fortress was the shape of a triangle from the air, with a 1000 foot tower at each point, and in the center was a tower, two times the height of the others, with a great spire at the very top. The Keep was blacker than the blackest black, with torches and great hearths ablaze, and the entire castle was overgrown with thorns, deeming it impossible to climb. The gates were built of iron, and the walls heavily fortified, for they had surrounded the entire castle in a barricade of thorns. To top it all off the fort was defended by a vast hoard of skeleton warriors, they had no compassion, mercy, or thought, they were like grotesque puppy dogs, obeying your every command. And deep underground, amidst a labyrinth of tunnels and prison cells, lay Sir Jeffrey Ogrecrony of Haerdean, alone and forgotten, driven mad with grief and pain, tormented by is persecutors, victim of a battle much larger than him.
And as Jeffrey lay weeping, shallow and broken in his dungeon of torment, a Fenrir quested on and on, in search of a foe, worthy of his stature, waiting for the blood moon to rise. And Cecil the lion was forced to abandoned his home once again, for the horrible Server War had finally found him, and Maurice was. . . well. . . hunting Fenrir, for he believed that Fenrir was the perfect pet, no other mutt could replace him, and so he hunted, day and night, never gaining, nor losing any ground on the Wolf.
During the 20 or so years after the battle of the dragon the Necromancer had watched, and waited, plotting and planning until there were hardly any holes in his plan not even the great beasts Fenrir the Wolf, Cecil the Lion, Ophidian the Serpent, Seine the Narwhal, and Fay the Peacock, would stand a chance against his cunning, he had raised an army of the greatest strength, for they were not easy to kill, the soldiers were undead after all, to kill them one had to kill there creator, or burn the bones. He even had a secret weapon, but his plan was not complete, so he observed, and conspired, then scrutinized, then reciprocated.
P.S. if you are going to make a post in this story, DO NOT explain what the secret weapon is, I know what I am doing, I have already decided what the weapon will be and do not wish to ruin the reveal, I will edit this part out after the reveal has been made, thanks! ~NL
Jeffrey lunged forward grabbing the bole thirstily, and when he was finally done gorging himself ha sat back as though he had his oun haunches, his gaunt frame pale against the dark grey stone walls of his confinement, his long brown beard scraping the floor. "I-I, I thonk I was. . . yelping?" It had been a long time since Jeffrey had spoken to anyone, the skeletal guards were incapable of speech, and his tongue was lazy and out of practice. He had forgotten many words and was uncertain of what language he was even speaking.
Jeffrey sat stunned and dazed, what had just happened to him? it must have been a hallucination, but he couldn't pass up even the smallest chance to escape, so he stood, and slank doun the hallway following the trail of burned dust. through the labyrinth and around the shadows of the castle.
"Ah, but Fenrir, your pride so high, you do not comprehend my magic power!" echoed a voice from the shadows, "I am the NECROMANCER! My name literally means black magic, for I am highly skilled in the method of the dark arts, for two millennium I have studied and mastered the enigma that is Dark Magic, even YOU would stand against ME!" the wall
Fenrir and Jeffrey gasped as human skewers at every angle, strangling there mobility, Fenrir struggled, managing to free one paw, but it was not so apparent to all that do not have the keenest of eyes.
"You see, Fenrir, it is hopeless, your pathetic master Thor would be ashamed." gloated the Necromancer.
"Show yourself you cowardly fool!" howled Fenrir in anger.
"Fool?, FOOL?! YOU are the FOOL, YOU stumbled blindly in here like a, like a, like a MOUSE! shouted the Necromancer angrily, then his voice became icy calm, " You are a mere PET, you are a slave of the gods, I could kill you right now, and you wouldn't be able to do a thing about it."
"Then why don't you, are you AFRAID that Thor will release his wrath on you? taunted Fenrir as he freed his back paw from the ensnarement.
"What are you doing?!" hissed Jeffrey, "do you wanted him to toast us like a marshmallow?
"NO, I'd just rather watch you beg for mercy." denied the Necromancer
"I knew it you are afraid." taunted Fenrir
"I am NOT! bellowed the necromancer, " but then he caught himself, "Oh, I know what you're doing, you are trying to bide your time, aren't you." When neither of them answered the Necromancer bellowed, "AREN'T YOU!
Finally Fenrir reed his last too paws and he grabbed Jeffrey by his wrist with his mouth and using his oun magic too force the spikes back into the walls, he sprang and towing Jeffrey behind, he sprinted down the corridors, knocking skeleton warriors out of his way with ease, the Necromancer revealing himself, flew after them shouting, "AFTER THEM YOU FOOLS!" until Fenrir reached the surface taking off through the doors and past the wall and barrackade of thorns and to freedom. The Necromancer yelled after them, "You cannot defeat me, I will prevail!" then he turned back in humiliation, sworn to vengeance for this embarrassment.
Finally Jeffrey found his words and told him every thing, his quest to help the ogre retake his throne, and the task of fighting the dragon, and his imprisonment by the Necromancer.