A Twist of Fate
"A Twist Of Fate" By Ryan Spence Hillgruff Gordrian awoke in a large filthy room, in the back of the inn that was his home. Hilgruff is a Barbarian. First born in a family of Barbarians, Hillgruff is a giant of a man. At the height of 7.2" tall and a weight of 380 pounds Hillgruff is often mistaken as a mountain bear from a distance and avoided. He does nothing to correct this notion, in fact his odd sense of fashion rather encourages it. He wears a large bear fur, rather different than the light leather coats worn by folk in the town. His town. * * * Six years ago a tragic twist in the life of the Barbarian occurred. He was banished from his warrior kin, not by cowardice, but his incredible bloodlust, which was very odd among Barbarians known for that very trait. His was so immense that once he started fighting, he could shrug off even the most powerful and deadly blows. But as with all things there was a drawback. He would go berserk, attacking anything that caught his blood-hungry eyes. He would slay friend and foe alike just to fulfill the hunger in his heart, a hunger that could only be stayed by the spilling of the blood of his opponent. In the last battle he fought in with his kin, he battled with such a furry he utterly destroyed his opponents. After breaking his heavy metal ax on a minor foe in one monstrous strike, he had turned to meet another giant of a man rushing toward him for an apparently easy kill. That was his foe's last mistake. Hillgruff still hungry for blood took a direct hit from his foe's club, which was as large as a small tree, shaking it off with a grunt. At this his foe stood awe-struck letting his defenses down. With this carelessness Hillgruff literally tore his foe apart. After this gruesome fight, a young Barbarian lad by the name of Eric The Savage had walked up behind Hillgruff and had done the most careless act of his life, he patted Hillgruff on the back. This was the last thing Erik ever did. Still in his Battle fury, seeking a new challenger Hillgruff felt the touch on his back and smiled, thinking he had found a new foe. He turned around, his last opponents giant club leading the way. He had hit Erik with such force he killed him instantly. With this action Hillgruff had done the one thing his kin dispised. Murder of fellow kin on the battlefield. When the battle finally ended and Hillgruff came out of his frenzy, a fellow tribesman saw the victims left in Hillgruff's wake. While shaking his head at the devastation he recognized Eric, not by his face which was crushed beyond recognition, but by the tattoo of a wolf displayed on his skin, the mark of their clan. With this discovery which spread like wildfire among the tribe, Hillgruff was surrounded by the veteran warriors and dragged back to their camp a good three miles away, through the rugged terrain that was their home, to stand before the elders, Since murdering a comrade was the vilest offense in the eyes of his kin, Hillgruff was given the vilest punishment. He was dishonored and banished. This was a fate much worse than death, for honor was everything to his people, without it you were not only more worthless than the weeds on the ground, but you were utterly doomed in the afterlife. Banishment doomed you in this life. The only thing that kept Hillgruff from taking his own life was the prospect of removing what very little was left of his honor. He was forced out and wandered the land for many years searching for other tribes of Barbarians to take him in. This never happened, mostly due to the simple shape burned into his forehead. It was the universal symbol used by all Barbarians on all those who are completely forsaken by their own people. * * * After many years of wandering, hoping some tribe would accept him, he gave up. He finally understood why none would accept him. To take one such as he in was to completely dishonor the entire tribe. Throughout his journey Hillgruff ventured south into the flat lands infested by the scrawny little men, who his people deemed had no honor and therefore were to be killed on sight. Hillgruff figured that he may as well live among them since he was now like them. Throughout his travels he became angrier and very disillusioned and violent. Although he knew he should, he could never leave the highlands. Anything he came across he attacked without mercy, because it temporarily quenched his anger, and the ever present hatred in his soul. He would kill anything; from lone riders, to merchant caravans. In doing this though, the people in the closest town, situated in a valley by a cold glacier lake, deemed the mysterious and deadly man a highwayman and placed a bounty on his head. Before long, bounty hunters started to search the highlands for Hillgruff. All died. The people making up the bounty hunter society were young inpatient welps, who due to their complete lack of brains, were kicked out of their community. They chose the only thing they thought they could make big in, 'Bounty Hunting', they were usually wrong. * * * Johann Wolf was once an elite soldier of a glorious kingdom far south. Unfortunately for him he was too trusting, and due to this, manipulative people would always use him. His downfall was when one of them came running to Johann's post in front of the city gates screaming about how a man was after him and wanted him dead. So poor Johann told the man to leave town and soon found himself face to face with a very well dressed man, probably of the Noble upper class, and high importance. The noble was furious. He started screaming at Johann about letting a thieve and murderer run free. Within a day Johann was stripped of his rank. This was the only thing he cared about, since Johann was an orphan, his job was his life. Since he had so long protected the city and had been a model soldier he was told to leave the county. Since he was spared death, many powerful people wanted him dead. After fleeing his county, his home, and his life, Johann headed north into the land of chilling wind and ever present cold. Where those with money, or common sense, avoided. After a long trip following the trade path, he stumbled across a small resting ground for caravans situated right by a glacier lake, in a valley of surrounded by hills and mountains. It was a place known among travelers for its incredible beauty. Spending the last of his money on people out to make a few easy gold pieces by gathering and assembling wood, he set up a small inn on a small rise beside the lake. He hoped he could make a living off the dreary merchants who always past by. He didn't have to wait long after the inn was finished to find out that this location was a gold mine. Unknown to Johann the people traveling through had long awaited a place to rest besides the wagons they were always on. Johann accepted supplies as well as coin from his customers, in return for safe lodging and a friendly atmosphere. He did this so that he could eat and stock up on things he needed for the long, cold winter that was fast approaching. Johann's inn thrived and soon other people with a nose for gold, started all sorts businesses beside it. Since Johann had been the first to build here he was by default the mayor. Johann never let himself be manipulated here in his new life, and did everything he knew how, to keep his new town safe. When he started to hear tales of a highwayman killing men and women alike just in the hills outside his town he quickly put a generous reward on his head. Before long many Bounty Hunters went after the man but none came back. Even though Johann was a patient man he couldn't have anything killing his customers, the only source of revenue the town had. He decided to investigate this one himself. After he gathered the necessary supplies and paid a visit to the only person he trusted, Francis. Francis, was a young quick thinking man in his early twenty's who organized and lead the fishermen of the town. Together they set off into the highlands. * * * "Let's give up this hunt Johann, we'll never find this highway man on his own ground!" complained Francis. "Must you whine so much, Francis? We've only been searching a few days!" replied Johann, angry with his whining companion. The two hunters where well into the highlands now, and Francis was becoming worried because soon they would enter Barbarian territory. The people who crossed into it never seemed to come back. When they walked over the next hill they heard the sound of a battle being fought, and lost. "Hear that Francis, it sounds like a careless band of merchants found our highwayman for us!" said Johann already running towards the battle, bow in hand. "Hold on Johann!" Francis cried. He tried to catch up to the older warrior, who surprised him by how fast he was running over the difficult landscape. When Johann got over the next rise, close enough to the cries of the battle ahead, he caught a glimpse of the carnage that lay ahead. He stopped. "What is the hold up, Johann, get tired already." Francis joked, smiling wildly. "Look." Said Johann with sadness in his voice, his hand pointing ahead. Francis' gaze followed Johann's finger and his smile disappeared as fast as the color on his face. About five hundred meters ahead of the two, the scene resembled the aftermath of a war. A war where one side was slaughtered without mercy. A whole caravan, consisting of six wagons were flipped and burning. Bloody bodies littered a ground now red with blood. The friends gaze stopped on the only upright wagon, the one in the rear of the caravan. By it a man fought something that could only come out of nightmares, trying to save his family. Johann and Francis saw the highwayman for the first time, and wished they had brought more men. By the man's size alone, they recognized him as a Barbarian. He wielded a great ax, and wore the pelt of a large bear. Both were dripping with blood. Before the man, who now ran away from the Barbarian, was slain, Johann's training took over. He pulled back his large bow, took aim, and fired. The arrow saved the merchants life. Just as the Barbarian heaved his great ax overhead, the arrow struck him square in his right shoulder. The Barbarian dropped the ax not from the pain but from surprise. As he swung around, and faced his new attacker, his left arm sent the cowering merchant flying to the ground. He was unconscious but still very much alive. Johann's eyes locked with the Barbarian's. After a brief moment, that felt to Johann like an eternity, the monster of a man let loose a roar that echoed in the mountains. A roar that promised swift death. The Barbarian pulled out the arrow from his shoulder without even twitching. He through the blood soaked arrow to the ground, and charged toward the now terrified, Johann, and Francis. As the two men stood, the a ground shook as if there was a great stampede. They both shivered, watching the bringer of death approach. Both men know they were going to die. The last thing Francis saw before his world went dark forever was the survivors from the caravan riding west towards the great city know as Brooklin's Pass, on galloping steeds cut free of destroyed wagon. Then a huge ax streaked through the air towards him and his friend, he froze. Johann, sword drawn, jumped back barely avoiding the a great swipe from Barbarians ax, a swipe that took his only friend's life. Johann was besieged by the emotions flooding his being, sadness, fear, hatred. He engaged the mighty Barbarian, fighting with all his heart. * * * This aged man was obviously not a bounty hunter. The only other possibility was that he was a citizen of the nearby town, trying to save it. Hillgruff began to think. All his life he served no greater purpose, he fought for himself alone. Was there a further calling in life other than self preservation? Why would this man willingly come to his death? Was he stupid or courages? His mind was flooded with questions all apearing in hardly a second. Before he could evern ponder on, though, the man attacked As Hillgruff battled, he felt something he had never felt before, pity. But in this battle he had to kill, or be killed. He fought like he always had, but strangely he did not go berserk. The two warriors fought long and hard, each exchanging blow after savage blow. Neither were tired, either by their loss of blood, or exertion. They played a deadly game of sword battling ax, size battling sheer emotion. Finally the inevitable happened. The older warrior staggered, making a fatal error. That error ended the life of Johann Wolf. After the battle Hillgruff did a thing he had never done before. He buried the man who had unknowingly changed Hillgruff's life forever. Hillgruff's heart no longer craved blood. He was free of the thing that cursed his very being. Never again would he be taken by bloodlust. From the things he had found on the body of the man he had killed, he discovered his name and that he was the mayor of the nearby town. This town, by his actions, was threatened by destruction. To honor the man known as Johann Wolf, the man who saved his soul, he decided to save his town. * * * When Hillgruff Gordrian entered the town, he entered the inn. He claimed to the people there, he was a traveling warrior from the north who stumbled upon a great battle where a man fought a huge highwayman in order to save the survivors of a caravan. Both men died, but by the man's selfless actions, the survivors escaped. His tale persuaded all the frightened merchants who had refused to use the trail through the town because of the highwayman, to reconsider. After persuading the folk of the town, he took up ownership of Johann's inn and dealt with anyone who dared threaten the town's survival. Once again the town flourished. For a time...
