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4.7

Raucous laughter met the pronocument, Asgyr tossing his head back, body shaking with mirth. The men behind him jeered and laughed and hollered.

When at last Asgyr had finished he gave a shake of his head. “You amuse me, little man.”

“I joke not,” Aedmorn told him, all intense in his words and expressions, enough to catch the attention of Asgyr. “You like to kill, it seems,” he went on, indicating the dead animals on display, “For no reason other than to kill. Let us see, then, how you fare against one who can fight back. I challenge you, alone, for the gem.”

Asgyr waved his arms about, to encompass all the dead. “These were sacrifices, little man, offered up to the gods as their rights, as will you be. I shall flay your skin for Havon and devour your heart for Galja and your body shall be broken as a warning to any others who dare stand before Asgyr, who shall be revered as the prophet of the true gods!” Asgyr’s voice became louder as he spoke, more strident, and in his eyes there showed a hint of madness, speckle flecking his lips.

“Then come, prophet,” Aedmorn responded calmly, “And show your worth, for I am Aedmorn, cruaith and Blessed of the Green Goddess, The Hunter.”

Asgyr sneered in reply. “You are beneath me, little man,” he said. “Meaningless are your names, meaningless is your goddess.” He waved a hand to motion his men to move forward. “Take them,” he ordered. “Prepare them for the ritual.”

The gathered men began to collect weapons, spears and axes and long bladed knives, to advance upon Aedmorn and Ivkarha.

“Hold,” said Aedmorn, and in his voice was the power of the cruaith, a power that rippled outwards, striking the men, and in so doing, staggering them backwards. “Hold.” They shook their heads and dropped weapons as if stung by them.

Rage infused Asgyr’s face, scarlet rising upon his skin, eyes bulging. “I will break you for that,” he snarled, beating a hefty fist against his bare chest.

Aedmorn held up a hand before him, a hand that began to change, as white fur rippled across it and the fingers elongated, razor sharp claws emerging from them. I am the beast of the wilderness,” he spoke, eyes locked on Asgyr’s as the change came over him, body warping and spasming as the beast emerged, shaping him into something else, a creature neither man nor animal but a blend of both, a beast with something of a bear and something of a wolf within it. “This beast can fight,” he snarled from between curved fangs. He crouched low, readying to leap.

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Asgyr roared and turned about, scurrying over to where a large axe lay, a long handled weapon with a sharp curved blade, ideal for chopping trees but just as useful for battle. He shook the weapon in Aedmorn’s direction. “I shall turn that pelt into a fur to sleep upon.”

Aedmorn sprung, a might leap, far faster, far higher than any man could make, claws extended, fangs bared as he did. Lesser men would have fallen beneath the snarling man-beast, torn apart in a fury of fangs and claws; Asgyr was not such a one. Moving swifter than a man of his size aught, he rolled aside, coming up with the axe swinging in a vicious, glittering arc, towards Aedmorn’s back. Yet even as he was diving aside and swinging, Aedmorn had reacted and was moving, twisting himself about as he landed, to face in the direction Asgyr had moved to. The axe strike came a whisper from striking and Aedmorn snarled in response.

Asgyr laughed, the scent of madness within. “I shall enjoy putting you down; you shall make a worthy sacrifice.”

One of the watching men, perhaps braver than most, or less affected by Aedmorn’s voice, started to inch forward. A clawed hand slashed through the air near him and he halted his advance, more so when Ivkarha lowered her spear towards him.

“Best not to do so,” she warned ominously.

Aedmorn and Asgyr began to circle slowly around each other, eyes locked on the other, seeking out an opening, axe and claws and fangs ready.

Then with a yell and a roar the two flung themselves forward at each other, axe blade singing. Aedmorn ducked beneath it and surged into the body of Asgyr, shoulder taking him in the chest. A claw raked down his back and the big man bellowed. Dropping his axe, he took a hold of Aedmorn’s arms, trying to wrest them apart. The two stood their, straining and panting, muscles corded with effort. Aedmorn snarled and snapped at Asgyr like some wild beast but the fangs could not reach flesh.

A sudden shout came from Asgyr and he fell back, heaving Aedmorn as he did. The man-beast was flung over the top of Asgyr, to crash to the ground heavily. Asgyr was up in a moment, recovering his axe as he did, to spring towards the prone Aedmorn. The axe moaned through the air, a deadly arc in motion as it descended with all the fury and rage that Asgyr could muster behind it. Aedmorn rolled at the axe slammed deep into the ground, only for Asgyr to wrench it free in a spray of dirt, to strike once more. The axe glanced off his leg as he moved, cutting through cloth and fur, to draw forth blood.

Another roll, another narrow miss, yet as he rolled, Aedmorn kicked out with his long legs, taking Asgyr in the knee. The man let out a curse and hobbled away, grimacing from the blow. Aedmorn rose once more, to his full height, warped now to that equal to Asgyr. He flexed his arms and claws and growled, his eyes showing a savage intensity to them. Blood flowed slowly down his leg, yet he showed no reaction to it, concentrated firmly on his foe.

Asgyr wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, before resuming a double handed grip on his axe. No words were spoken, both intent upon the other, oblivious to all else around them but their rage and anger.

Then with another roar the two leapt forward again, to end the contest.