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#13394318 Aug 14, 2017 at 08:27 AM
47 Posts
The Wargs growled amongst themselves. What did she mean, this Golug? They couldn’t understand her, and she couldn’t understand them. Only one of them knew the tongue of Goblins. Goblins were merely sport to them and they looked down on their tamed kin. Confusion began to set in. All they knew was that they had to stop the little party.
Hackles bristling they began to pace back and forth, to growl and to snap. They were restless. Would the Golug kill her prisoner? They could see no reason why not. Why was she threatening them with it? Was it important to Ulf Mutter somehow?
Evil recognized evil; it was drawn together like loadstone and iron. These western Scara had never seen Ulf Mutter, but they had recognized a kin in the small grey wolves that had spread her message to them. And they recognized her power on the air. Seemingly as one they sniffed the wind. Ulf Mutter was coming. Together they raised their voices and howled out their frustration, “What do we do mother? They threaten us with one that is already dead.”
By stages the message was carried back until Ulf Mutter heard it. Screaming in fear she flew ahead. Quick as thought the spirit covered the vast, barren land of Angmar. In an instant she was there, looking down on her chosen clay. It should have died by now, but something gave it vigor of spirit, the Elf liquor. Cursing and blessing the Elf who held a knife to her throat Ulf Mutter hovered quietly over the tense scene.
If she entered her body and the elf slit her throat that was it, she was finished, her work uncompleted. If the elf killed her before she entered, again, that was it, she was finished. But if they got it to a safe place Ulf Mutter could certainly not enter her body without it being killed.
A rage began to build within her. A man and a Golug had destroyed her last time as well. Her memory of it was hazy, a fierce burning within her belly that even an entire river could not quench. A hunting party of Golugs and men, finally they had killed her but not before she promised vengeance against them. As her soul broke that day the larger part of it went out, past the door of night. Only this small part of her had remained. And it had wreaked its vengeance through the ages. Now was her chance to grow again. She was tired and angry from being static for so long, angry at the races of Illuvitar that had hunted her children, slaughtering them without mercy or thought.
Finally, she could stand it no longer, if she were to die, she would die in glorious agony, an orgy of death and destruction. And she would take these Golug bitches with her. Screaming so loud that her voice rent the fabric between light and shadow she dove into her mortal frame…
Ulfban had been watching; she knew what would happen. Ramield would never kill her; she would have to make that happen on her own. Ulf Mutter, that vast, dark spirit hovering over her would violate her again but this time she must be ready for it. Drawing the gathering dew of her courage, all her remaining willpower, Ulfban hid deep within herself. She knew that she could not overcome Ulf Mutter again. Not while she was bent on gaining control. Sighing sadly she retreated as the sprit dove into her...
With a sudden and fierce scream Ulfban opened her eyes, shoving the blade at her throat and fiercely pulling away from Ramield…