The Ice-Capped Mountains

Through the fogginess of the air, Riya made out the towering shadows that stood behind her staff. As the air cleared, she could see the leader of the pack staring straight at her, his eyes like daggers through her gut. Her instinct was to freeze; after all, she was as pale as the snowy field around her, but that was not the thinking side of her nature.

Slowly, with her hands formed into fists, she nodded and lied.

"I am the Sage!" she announced. "If you'd like to retrieve me, I will not be coming without trouble."

And, as luck would have it, trouble was at her side.

"Presumptious dog," Altan says in a flat tone as the Sage's guardian declares his intent to attack. The beast may have thought that Altan's kind was incapable of diplomacy but clearly hadn't realized that if he'd been so inclined, Altan could have simply started raining down death before they'd begun talking.

If Karga was hoping for an easy fight he would be let down. These were not any Men of the Mountains, these were the sons and daughters of the Qara'Möngke the most savage a tribe that survived only by hunting the monstrous beasts that were blessed with great size by the Avargus root. That very first blow, so readily announced is blocked, the hunter to the left raising his arms and catching the blow on his raised forearms. The lamellar plating of his armor creaking with the force of Karga's blow, a wickedly savage grin crossing the features of the hunter.

"A worthy beast!"

The man cries to his fellows, clearly impressed by Karga's strength. He would find those defenses of each member of the party. While the first blocked, as did the two female members of the party, the largest of the males didn't react in time. But even a blow with the strength of a Warhammer was nowhere near enough to bring down a man of the mountain.

Only the last, the party leader, did anything different. As Karga darted in Altan accepted the blow moving with it to reduce the impact before retaliating with his own attack, tugging on the lines of red and green mana that ran through the mountain he lashed out with the speed of the howling wind and the strength of an avalanche, a fist hard enough to shatter boulders flying towards Karga's stomach as the beast's own blow causes Altan's bones to creak with its strength. Just like every member of his party the leader of the hunt has a savage grin on his face.

"Hunt, this one made the choice for its Sage. Take her, I will handle this one."

And like that the five Men of the Mountain break towards Riya. The largest of them bending down to scoop up a massive mittful of snow and rock which he launches at the centauress like a catapult losing its stone. The hunting party letting out a howl as their massive strides make easy work of the deep snow letting them chew the distance between themselves and the supposed Sage at a truly alarming rate. If Karga tried to impede their progress he would regret it as the moment the beast tried to move away from Altan the druid would attack, with the power of the mountains flowing through him his speed enough to keep pace with the beast.

Thud. Crack. Karga’s breath was forced out of his lungs in a red and white haze has he felt his ribs snap and his spine protest as his momentum was reversed, flinging him backwards.

He felt his injuries begin to knit as a clinical detachment washed through him, red seeping into his vision. Liver and spleen ruptured, several ribs broken, several other fractures or cracked, right lung punctured, Major internal bleeding.

Pain. Rage. It was time to hunt. With a snarl his features shifted in an instant as he grew and turned into a white blur, claws lashing with force to cleave to the bone, once then twice as he darted between hunters, attempting to open one’s leg and another’s arm before he bounded towards the Druid.

Now mostly shifted, a great beast that stood as tall if not taller then the men of the mountain, half Wolf and half man, with pale snow colored fur that flickered with silver flame. He did not hold back as he attacked with fist and palm and claw, his blows no longer debilitating now lethal, first he would deal with this one, then the others.

She barely caught the sight of Karga and Altan's battle through the hulking bodies of the party. Hollering his name was all she could manage before leaping backward, feeling her limbs burn with the effort. This was looking much worse than she'd thought. Karga was strong, but they were against an entire group of Mountain Men. Not only that but one of the most dangerous khanate of them all.

As she struggled to pull away from Altan's lackeys, her mind was racing. The centaur could feel the lack of food and sleep pull at her like a hundred arms grabbing her toward the ground. The pain of the cold air in her lungs and days of sprinting through the thick snow was all but torture to her mind now. Even if they managed to get the staff now, she wasn't going anywhere... but these warriors didn't know that she did not wield the sage's power.

"... KARGA!" screamed the centaur. "RUN!"

If there was even a chance he could escape, they would take her, yes... and he could come back for the staff, hide it from the hands of the Tamorjin! She could die. In fact, once the Khan found out she wasn't the sage, she was sure a fate worse lay ahead of her, but the sage's power was much more important now!

Altan was impressed when the beast managed to snake out and block what likely would have been a debilitating blow. Of course, in doing so Karge lost any chance he had at successfully getting to the other hunter which meant that Riya's chances were nill. As Karga flies away from Altan the rest of the hunting party closes the gap and massive arms grab onto the centauress.

Whirling his glaive his eyes track the movements of the beast, but it was beast no more. Evidently, the creature had decided to fight as a man. There was something in the way Karga moved that suggested that Altan may, at last, be in for a challenge. The Song of the Mountain swells within his veins and for a moment he is quite ready to see what would win. Speed and precision or strength and endurance, for the power thrumming into the clan leader, was that of the avalanche, the shrugging of a mountain against those who would defile it.

But he was not here to satiate his desire for glory. Just as Karga had decided to let rationality move his body now, Altan decided that he would try to complete his original goal in this. "If the... If Karga." No reason not to be diplomatic since he now knew the beast's name. "Does not stop then kill the centaur." He orders his hunters and if Karga did not stop, they would do as ordered without mercy. For all Karga's centuries of practice and skill, there was no overcoming being outnumbered. The werewolf had no hope of defeating Altan before the hunters slew Riya and if he tried to stop them then he would be turn his back on Altan and as he'd already learned twice that could well be a fatal mistake.

Karga growled low in his throat, the sound loud enough to be heard over the wind. There was something else there that was ruling up his wilder side. The one that relished in the hunt, the battle, the conflict, and especially the kill. A quiet eager voice that egged him to change completely, give in to the savagery. These clowns couldn’t kill him before he killed them all first but he had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t end with just the sons of the mountains.

“I was breaking armies before your family name was first uttered boy, and I’ll be living a quiet life long after it has been forgotten. You aren’t even a shadow of the old masters who stood before me and broke like the mountain wind on these jagged peaks. Even your kind must remember the old tales. You called us the horrors of the shade. The ghosts in the snow. If you survive you may remember me, but I doubt I’ll remember you after you’re blood stains the snow. Let the woman go. Earn your honor elsewhere child. You’ll find only death in this, my domain.” He said coldly, his ears pricked, face flushed as he breathed slowly and evenly. If they killed her, none would leave alive. It was in his face, the set of his shoulders, the quiet resolve in his posture that much like the mountain peak, refused to even sway in the brutal winds.

Fruitlessly, the centaur kicked her legs as she watched Altan reached for the staff. She grit her teeth. Riya had hoped so much that they would take her, leave the sage's power in the ground for Karga to take. No such luck. The centaur tribes were good as done with this in the hands of the khan. Her eyes grew as she looked upon Karga, holding her breath.

But... wait.

What did the Mountain Man say?

She blinked several times in disbelief, turning her head to stare at Altan.

"Come again?"

Shifting his glaive to his left hand he hooks his foot under the staff. With a quick motion, he sends it into the air and snatches it with his right. It appeared as though Altan had caught the centauress off guard and that the realization that he was in a poor position had finally lead Karga to back down.

"Considering I have both sage and staff." He did not know that the sage and the staff were the same entity, he still believed the centauress to be the sage. Though he did know the staff was important since she'd been trying to convince the beat to leave with it. "I would think you'd be less eager for us to leave with what we have."

Then Altan's attention turns to the one of the two who seemed to have some sense in their head. "As I said Sage, I have no particular love for Kuchar. He killed my father and subverted my clan. I am honour bound to obey him but I see no reason not to subvert him where I can so long as I am following the letter of his orders if not the spirit. So if I can bring him the sage only to have the sage escape his custody, causing damage and besmirching his honour in the process I see no reason not to do this."

Karga growled deep in his throat, not liking the predicament at all, but knowing there was little choice. "

"If you wish us to follow, give her the staff as a sign of good faith. Otherwise how are we to trust that you mean what you say." He finally said after a long moment of thought.