Post by Joeretro79 on Nov 4, 2020 17:08:43 GMT 10
Cley can be seen sitting around the barracks not doing much more than being lost in thought. He paces through the rooms looking around, he is looking disillusioned or contemplating.
After a time, he pauses in his pacing of the barracks' confines and mutters to himself – 'Gah.. I'm like a bloody caged animal in here.' A sudden thought then comes to him and the Doomguard exits the building, heading toward the kennels that were a legacy of a failed experiment (never to be spoken of). The pens had only one occupant these days – the massive dire wolf that had been companion to his comrade and friend, the fallen Templar.
Pricking up its ears and sniffing the air at Cley's approach, the huge lupine creature then lets out an inquisitive whine and cocks its head – perhaps thinking its master has come to take it hunting as he often did.
'Easy there Fenrir,' murmurs the towering Doomguard in a soothing tone. 'It's only me. Sorry if I'm not the one you wanted to see.'
Cley opens the pen carefully, before tossing a scrap of meat snatched from the mess hall kitchens on his way out. The beast tracks the flying morsel unerringly, inhales it with one gulp, licks its lips and looks expectantly for more.
Cley ruffles the fur between its ears and lets out a soft chuckle.
'Looking for more eh? You're a beast after my own heart!'
Fenrir wags its large tail happily and looks to the open door of the pen.
'Come on then,' urges the Doomguard 'I expect the captain isn't going to want to keep you around without the Templar to keep you under control. Doesn't seem right to leave you here to meet your fate.'
As they exit the kennels, the soldier stoops to pick up the leathery chew-toy Orren had used to aid his training of the beast. He examines the well-gnawed toy and smiles as the idea for a final, fitting tribute to the Templar occurs to him.
With that, Cley leads the huge beast out of the compound and sets off toward the woods where he had long ago witnessed his friend recover a young dire wolf pup, the runt of the litter.
Later that evening, he enters the mining town of Verge, now alone, and spies a familiar, diminutive figure seated on a low bench – her glittering wings moving gently behind her.
Looming over the tiny hin... fey... whatever it was... he holds out the used chew toy, turning it so that the carved likeness of the one seated before him was obvious.
'A gift from our late friend' he says, his deep, resonant voice holding just the faintest edge of .. something. 'He often spoke about you and his wolf in the same sentence. I think he'd want you to have this.'
//Written mostly by Grumble with added touches by me.
After a time, he pauses in his pacing of the barracks' confines and mutters to himself – 'Gah.. I'm like a bloody caged animal in here.' A sudden thought then comes to him and the Doomguard exits the building, heading toward the kennels that were a legacy of a failed experiment (never to be spoken of). The pens had only one occupant these days – the massive dire wolf that had been companion to his comrade and friend, the fallen Templar.
Pricking up its ears and sniffing the air at Cley's approach, the huge lupine creature then lets out an inquisitive whine and cocks its head – perhaps thinking its master has come to take it hunting as he often did.
'Easy there Fenrir,' murmurs the towering Doomguard in a soothing tone. 'It's only me. Sorry if I'm not the one you wanted to see.'
Cley opens the pen carefully, before tossing a scrap of meat snatched from the mess hall kitchens on his way out. The beast tracks the flying morsel unerringly, inhales it with one gulp, licks its lips and looks expectantly for more.
Cley ruffles the fur between its ears and lets out a soft chuckle.
'Looking for more eh? You're a beast after my own heart!'
Fenrir wags its large tail happily and looks to the open door of the pen.
'Come on then,' urges the Doomguard 'I expect the captain isn't going to want to keep you around without the Templar to keep you under control. Doesn't seem right to leave you here to meet your fate.'
As they exit the kennels, the soldier stoops to pick up the leathery chew-toy Orren had used to aid his training of the beast. He examines the well-gnawed toy and smiles as the idea for a final, fitting tribute to the Templar occurs to him.
With that, Cley leads the huge beast out of the compound and sets off toward the woods where he had long ago witnessed his friend recover a young dire wolf pup, the runt of the litter.
Later that evening, he enters the mining town of Verge, now alone, and spies a familiar, diminutive figure seated on a low bench – her glittering wings moving gently behind her.
Looming over the tiny hin... fey... whatever it was... he holds out the used chew toy, turning it so that the carved likeness of the one seated before him was obvious.
'A gift from our late friend' he says, his deep, resonant voice holding just the faintest edge of .. something. 'He often spoke about you and his wolf in the same sentence. I think he'd want you to have this.'
//Written mostly by Grumble with added touches by me.
