!DOD3/eopFI 11/01/08(Sat)17:31 No.2921806|
Mokum could have gone about his life like that, perhaps becoming a real asset to the fort in time, had it not been for a certain incident. For Uristbomrek was not only a home for deer, but for the occassional werewolf, too. And when the next of the damn things started prowling the area, the dwarves initially thought to simply keep clear of it. However, after a spectacularly stupid dog tried to eat the beast's leg, it tore the animal to one pound pieces and went crazy.
Mokum was still hunting deer. He hadn't become any tougher, or faster, or stronger. Nor had he learned to swing his axe or sneak around. He had no armor at all. And yet he was the first to stand in the way of the horrible, bloodthirsty monster. At first he screamed and tried to flee, but suddenly something happened in his head. Suddenly that feeble, only marginally tough dwarf, turned around, and there was great resolve in his eyes. The werewolf screamed and hurled itself at him, and he met it with equal fury.
Even though his leg was torn to shreds from the thigh immidiately, he did not fall or give in to pain. He smashed his axe, stained with the blood of a dozen deer, to the skull of the beast. The heavy blade did not find take against the unnatural, steely bone, but it served to draw blood. And to anger the thing. With a scream of rage it crushed his other leg from the knee like a twig. Mokum did not faze, but hit struck back, this time into a shoulder. There was a crack, and the lycanthrope yowled in pain and anger. Another blow struck it at hip, and again it flinched. It grabbed Mokum by his broken leg and hurled him to the ground, bruising his neck.