((I'm posting this here mainly to get feedback, like/dislike and why, tips on writing better, etc. yes, I know my paragraphs and what not are horrible. My mother the english teacher is very disappointed in me ))
Bladewolf: An Origin
Prologue:
It was an ancient time, before heroes roamed freely in the city of tomorrow. It is a land of darkness, serving a dark god. A time when creatures of horrible power tormented those merely trying to survive in the land. One small village fought against the dark powers. One small village, secluded in a valley, protected by mountains on all sides withheld against the tides of evil threatening to overrun them.
In this village they served ancient spirits, powerful animals of the natural world. The Hart, a noble and gentle healer. The Hawk, a swift and vigilint defender. The Monkey, a crafty and daring scout. The Beaver, an ingenious and powerfull builder. All animal spirits had their followers, all guided their worshipers and the worshipers venerated all equally. All but one. One spirit chose champions, and only a few at a time. These few, these swift, powerfull and loyal warriors, these packmates were the few who followed only one spirit and only one spirit guided them. The Wolf, the fiercest and most gentle, the pack that guards, protects, and serves the village. His small gathering of followers were the blade kept the village safe from the darkness.
In this pack there was one. He was not alpha though he could have been had he chosen to. He was tall, muscular, and agile. His black hair just starting to change to grey at the sides, he had seen many battles, fought many wars to keep the village safe. He was dying.
The tides of darkness had crashed down the valley and as they had before, they broke on the dam that was the Wolfpack. This time however, the dam had also cracked, had nearly broken under the unrelenting strain. The waves of shadow that invaded the valley were as the whole of the ocean descending down upon the village. Even the strongest dam must crack under that pressure. After days of battle, uninterupted fighting, the forces of darkness had fled, so beaten, so defeated as to never return, but the victory was bitter indeed.
The final packmate barely managed to stagger into the village before finally collapsing. The village elders ran to his side but they could see it was too late. How he was alive they could not understand. His wounds were great and he had lost too much blood. He pulled his sword to his chest, clutching it close to him. The elders gathered close, preparing to give the noble warrior's soul his passing to the fields of the Wolf. With a strength that suprised them the warrior grasped one of the elder's hands, stopping the ritual. His final words, would echo in he minds of the elders for their remaining years. "no, no I will not go. I gather my strength, my soul and place it in this sword. The village will be protected, the forces of darkness will be fought. The Wolf is with me, I make my sacrifice willingly, I do this for the pack, not just my brothers who fell, but the whole the village....my pack." With these words the light in the warriors eyes faded and his grip on the elders arm fell slack.
The warriors body had died but his sword glowed with new light, as bright as if a sun shone from withen it's iron shell. When the light faded a faint howl could be heard in the distance as the sword fell to the earth. A howl of despair and yet celebration. All in the village new the Wolf spirit was mourning the loss of his last follower and yet celebrating their victory over darkness. Only the elders knew that it also indicated the Wolf's blessing of his followers wish. The sword was kept safe in the village, being used only in times of great danger. Those that weilded it saying a presence seemed to guide their actions, their attacks and parries. Only the village elders knew the truth, knew that the ancient warrior still guarded the village.
Time passes as time will and the small village passed from the land. The final villager, the last elder, great great grandson of one of the original elders, placed the sacred blade upon the village square. Whispering his thanks to the ancient spirit and the great Wolf, the elder sat beneath the sword and closed his eyes, never to open them again.
As the centuries passed, the village was discovered, the blade removed. Through the years many have weilded the sacred blade though only in defense of home or family. The true origins of the blade lost to history, only it's wielders knew the truth. After many centuries of wandering the blade came to Paragon city where it would stay for years, lost in an exhibit of ancient weapons in the back of the museam.
Today:
Chris Meyer and his younger sister Sarah had only wanted to spend the day together. With Chris away at college most of the time he didn't get to see his favorite sibling very often. The decision to see the museam was a random one, made at a whim while walking through Atlas Park. It seemed a great end to a great day as they both loved history and the new displays recently opened up would be enjoyable to both. At just over six feet tall and very athletic, the Paragon University backup star running back usually didnt have to worry about the thugs and common criminals who wandered the streets. The thugs normally went after easier prey, ones that weren't likely to fight back. The twenty-two year old had not been mugged for years. His sister was not nearly as an imposing figure and with her young looks and beautiful features one would think she would be a common target to the local gangs. However her quick wits, and quicker feet had kept her out of trouble so far. For the seventeen year old high school senior, life couln't be better. She would graduate next month and had already recieved a gymnastics scholarship for Paragon University so she could be closer to her favorite brother. Both her brothers actually but neither one were close to their twenty-four year old eldest brother.
It was actually Sarah who noticed the group of skulls following them into the museam. She brought Chris's attention to them and for reasons he could not identify, a dark cold chill ran down his spine. He did not know why, but he knew they were after him and Sarah, and by the look of the Bone Daddy that led, them what they wanted wasn't merely the time of day.
Grabbing Sarah's arm he quickly led them towards the door, hoping that by getting outside they might encounter a wandering hero or even a squad of Longbow agents. As if sensing his intent, three of the skulls crossed over and stood directely in their path.
"where ya going guys" grinned one them, his eyes mocking them behind his skull mask. When those eyes fell on Sarah the grin turned into a dark leer that made her shiver with fear. The other two behind the speaker chuckled darkly as the speaker again addressed the two, "tell ya what bud, how about we make a deal. You leave, no harm no foul, and the chicky stays with us. What do ya say bud".
Chris had positioned himself infront of Sarah and chose not to answer the skull as he tried to watch the three infront of him and the other two who were now circling behind them. He could feel Sarah pressed hard against his back nearly shivering with fear. It was so thick Chris felt he could almost smell it.
The speaker had stopped grinning by now and was starting to get angry, "come on bud, don't be stupid. Save yourself and leave the girl or you will get dead and we'll take what we want from her anyway." Chris felt his anger rising at their words, at what they desired to do to his sister but he knew he probably could not stop them, not with a Bone Daddy leading them. He quickly looked over his shoulder at his sister, "Sarah...." The Bone Daddy finally growled in impatiance, and with a voice dripping with shadow ordered, "Enough, kill the boy and take the girl." At this the three skulls in front of them drew small weapons, an axe, a knife, and the speaker drew forth a pistol. The skull standing with the Bone Daddy brought forth a shotgun, it's tip sawed off to make it easier to hide beneath his black jacket.
Acting faster than the skulls expected Chris whipped around and shouting for Sarah to run, grabbed her and pushed her in front of him, both of them running deeper into the museam. The harsh retort of the pistol firing ringing sharply in his ears Chris barely felt the bullet enter his side, just above the left kidney. His only concern now was to get Sarah away from them. Unfortunitly it was getting late and the museam was all but empty, the visitors having left and the employees were few and far between. Sarah was running in front of him and he could hear her gasping for breath between her sobs of fear. She would not last much longer before she collapsed. He needed to get her out of here but the skulls were not far behind. Two of their number had stopped to deal with a security guard who had come to see what the noise was and Chris did not expect them to be merciful. Almost on cue with that thought a voice rang out, screaming in pain and fear and Chris new the guard did not prevail against the cruel thugs.
With the gaurds scream, Sarah sobbed louder and stumbled, almost falling. Chris caught his sister and pulling her into a side hall again pushed her infront of him. Together they ran to the back of the museam and into the weapons display. Praying to find something to use against the skulls he quickly scanned the room while pushing Sarah down behind one of the displays. Motioning for her to be quiet he quickly spun around as one of the skulls entered the display room. With a grin and malice in his eyes he turned back and shouted for his friends, "Hey, found em. they is in the weapon room". The skull flip tossed his knife and catching it by the handle walked towards the two. The other skulls slowly started filtering in behind him.
Desperately reaching out for anything he could use, Chris was suprised to find his hand connecting with the handle to a long thin sword, the grip large enough for two hands but the weapon was light enough to be used one handed. The blade was long and straight and seemed to have an edge on only one side. Grasping the weapon tightly Chris brought it in front of him. Almost immediately the pain in his side lessened and then vanished completely. A soft voice echo'ed softly in Chris' head, "Easy wolf brother, I am with you." Of their own accord, Chris' hands readjusted on the hilt, his right hand just underneath the cross guard and his left just below halfway down.
The skulls laughed as they saw their prey holding the blade before them, still figuring on an easy mark who would try some feeble defense before he died. Just like so many others that had fallen before them. The Bone Daddy, walking into the weapon room last merely grinned. "Finish this." he ordered. The voice in his head spoke to Chris again whispering patience, "Rest easy wolf brother, I will guide you. These fools do not realize that the hunted has become the hunter. When I give word, let me be your actions, guide your movements. Your sister will be safe, those who threatened her will not be." Chris could only nod briefly as small beads of nervous sweat broke out all over his body.
As the closest skull approached the voice in his head nearly shouted, "Now" and time seemed to slow for Chris. He felt his body react on it's own and he suddenly sprang forward, towards the skull with the axe, just behind the closest one. Swinging the blade straight across Chris felt it cut into and through the axe weilder. Continuing the cut Chris used the momentum to spin around and bringing the blade in a two handed grip straight back to him, the blade edge side down pointed directly out from his body, stabbed straight into the knife weilding skull he passed initially. He felt the blade stab directly through the gang members body and quickly pulled the blade back out.
Chris turned around and faced the three remaining skulls. The one with the pistol who had spoken initially yelped, "Oh [censored] and brought his pistol up with a sharp bang and the bullet sped towards it's target. Bringing the sword up diagnally from lower left to upper right, Chris both felt and heard the sword catch the bullet and deflect it harmlessly to the ceiling. Going with the movement of the parry, Chris stepped forward, spun around and dipped the sword blade low as he buckled his knees. Fully extending his legs at the end of the spin he brought the blade up into the skull, cutting him from crotch to chin and sending him flying up and back to land some feet behind where he was standing.
Still not quite sure excately what was happening Chris could only watch in horror as the skull in the black jacket with the shot gun fired, point blank into his chest. Growling with the sudden harsh pain, Chris stepped forward and slashed the sword quickly across the fallen, back and forth. Stepping back the gang banger brought the shotgun up again. Before he could fire Chris raised the sword up and with all the strength he could muster brought it back down again, slightly angled to cut into the skull's right shoulder and through to his left hip. The skull fell backwards, his shotgun firing uselessly into the floor.
Slowing to catch his breath, Chris only barely registered the deepening shadows in the room. Until, that is, a blast of pure shadow threw him through a display of spears and sent him rolling across the room to stop against the far wall. Growling Chris regained his feet and faced the Bone Daddy who was by now, radiating pure shadow. Rage echoed in the last Skull's voice as he cried out, "YOU WILL DIE BOY, I WILL FEED YOUR CORPSE TO THE GRAVE CROWS AND YOUR SOUL TO THE PITS OF DARKNESS". Jumping quickly over the next blast of shadow, Chris closed the distance to the Bone Daddy faster than he expected and brought the sword to bear again and again, cutting into the skull. Shadow swirled around them both obscuring sight. Finally the darkness simply melted away and Chris stood there, amazed he was alive and in shock of what he had seen, what he had done.
A familier voice cried out in fear and relief and as Chris turned to the sound he was suddenly wrapped in a tight hug. Sobbing against his chest, Sarah held him tighter as he wrapped his arms around her trying to whisper encouregment and telling her it would be alright. The sword in his hand vanished almost as suddenly as it had seemed to appear, yet Chris knew, if he needed it, it would be back with merely a thought.
After she had cried herself out, Sarah stepped back and gasped, "Chris, your chest!". Grimicing, only now remembering the shotgun blast to the chest, Chris started to apologize when she continued, "You're not hurt!". Looking down Chris realized she was right. The hole was still in his shirt, but his skin was unbroken. He knew the slug had penetrated, he had initially felt blood flowing down his chest, but now it was as if he had never been injured.
Sarah had stepped back and was looking around at the others, and noticing something strange, pointed it out to Chris. "Look Chris, the gang members. None of them are cut either." Chris could only blink in confusion as adrenaline started to leave him. His muscles aching now, he took Sarah by the hand and started to pull her towards the door, "Come on sis. Longbow or the cops should be here soon and I....I really don't want to talk with anyone right now."
Walking quickly the two left, exiting just before Longbow Wardens landed at the steps, drawn by the alarm that had sounded when the display of spears was broken. Inside they found a security guard from the museam dead near the entryway. From the way he was positioned with the look of fear on his face, to the unnatural whitening of his hair the two Wardens surmised the poor fellow had died by shadow, or negative energy. Continuing into the back of the museam the officers found the five skulls, all alive, all unconscious with no marks on them. Tagging them for extracation to the Zig prison, the Wardens could only guess as to what happened in here.
Epilogue:
Back at the University dorm he called home, Chris could only sit on his bed and wonder excatly what had happened today. Sarah was now at home sleeping and he felt horrible about hiding from his parents. The holes in his shirt could be diffacult to explain. Concentrating briefly, Chris "summoned" the sword. It appeared easily in his hand and upon concentrating again, vanished.
The air infront of Chris wavered briefly then solidified, sort of, into a ghostly image of a tall warrior with long dark hair, dressed in ancient leather armor. Thinking he should be suprised, or at least stunned Chris merely sat back and felt he knew this appiration. "Hello wolf brother:" the familier voice sounded in his head. Chris sighed softly and proceded to have a conversation with the ghost. "I take it I have you to thank for both the sword and saving my sister's life?"
"indeed wolf brother, I did step in. You are not properly trained yet and I had to ensure your survival. I also could not let my pack sister come to harm, for if I did, what kind of wolf would I be", the voice chuckled.
Shaking his head in confusion Chris asked, "wolf brother, pack sister. I don't understand, what are you talking about?". The ancient warrior smiled, "let me tell you a story young wolf....."
A couple hours later, Chris sat up a little straighter, "So what you are saying is, no one can see or hear you but me. You will train me in the use of this 'bladewolf' and I'll be expected to 'hunt' prey or badguys in some long tradition of protection family and home in the style of wolves protecting pack and den. My strength and speed will increase as well as my senses heightening to where I can smell strong emotions, hear faint sounds, and see great distances. And all this came about because the promise you made to your 'pack' was stronger, more magical than you expected. "yes, that seems to cover just about all of it." the ghost warrior smiled. "hunh" exclaimed Chris, "why me?" "You have been chosen by the Great Wolf, and he has placed his aspect in you. If you know what to look for it shines brightly in this city of shadow." "Oh. Ok." Chris stood up looking at the warrior asked. "When do we start?"
((I'm posting this here mainly to get feedback, like/dislike and why, tips on writing better, etc. yes, I know my paragraphs and what not are horrible. My mother the english teacher is very disappointed in me
))
Bladewolf: An Origin
Prologue:
It was an ancient time, before heroes roamed freely in the city of tomorrow. It is a land of darkness, serving a dark god. A time when creatures of horrible power tormented those merely trying to survive in the land. One small village fought against the dark powers. One small village, secluded in a valley, protected by mountains on all sides withheld against the tides of evil threatening to overrun them.
In this village they served ancient spirits, powerful animals of the natural world. The Hart, a noble and gentle healer. The Hawk, a swift and vigilint defender. The Monkey, a crafty and daring scout. The Beaver, an ingenious and powerfull builder. All animal spirits had their followers, all guided their worshipers and the worshipers venerated all equally. All but one. One spirit chose champions, and only a few at a time. These few, these swift, powerfull and loyal warriors, these packmates were the few who followed only one spirit and only one spirit guided them. The Wolf, the fiercest and most gentle, the pack that guards, protects, and serves the village. His small gathering of followers were the blade kept the village safe from the darkness.
In this pack there was one. He was not alpha though he could have been had he chosen to. He was tall, muscular, and agile. His black hair just starting to change to grey at the sides, he had seen many battles, fought many wars to keep the village safe. He was dying.
The tides of darkness had crashed down the valley and as they had before, they broke on the dam that was the Wolfpack. This time however, the dam had also cracked, had nearly broken under the unrelenting strain. The waves of shadow that invaded the valley were as the whole of the ocean descending down upon the village. Even the strongest dam must crack under that pressure. After days of battle, uninterupted fighting, the forces of darkness had fled, so beaten, so defeated as to never return, but the victory was bitter indeed.
The final packmate barely managed to stagger into the village before finally collapsing. The village elders ran to his side but they could see it was too late. How he was alive they could not understand. His wounds were great and he had lost too much blood. He pulled his sword to his chest, clutching it close to him. The elders gathered close, preparing to give the noble warrior's soul his passing to the fields of the Wolf. With a strength that suprised them the warrior grasped one of the elder's hands, stopping the ritual. His final words, would echo in he minds of the elders for their remaining years. "no, no I will not go. I gather my strength, my soul and place it in this sword. The village will be protected, the forces of darkness will be fought. The Wolf is with me, I make my sacrifice willingly, I do this for the pack, not just my brothers who fell, but the whole the village....my pack." With these words the light in the warriors eyes faded and his grip on the elders arm fell slack.
The warriors body had died but his sword glowed with new light, as bright as if a sun shone from withen it's iron shell. When the light faded a faint howl could be heard in the distance as the sword fell to the earth. A howl of despair and yet celebration. All in the village new the Wolf spirit was mourning the loss of his last follower and yet celebrating their victory over darkness. Only the elders knew that it also indicated the Wolf's blessing of his followers wish. The sword was kept safe in the village, being used only in times of great danger. Those that weilded it saying a presence seemed to guide their actions, their attacks and parries. Only the village elders knew the truth, knew that the ancient warrior still guarded the village.
Time passes as time will and the small village passed from the land. The final villager, the last elder, great great grandson of one of the original elders, placed the sacred blade upon the village square. Whispering his thanks to the ancient spirit and the great Wolf, the elder sat beneath the sword and closed his eyes, never to open them again.
As the centuries passed, the village was discovered, the blade removed. Through the years many have weilded the sacred blade though only in defense of home or family. The true origins of the blade lost to history, only it's wielders knew the truth. After many centuries of wandering the blade came to Paragon city where it would stay for years, lost in an exhibit of ancient weapons in the back of the museam.
Today:
Chris Meyer and his younger sister Sarah had only wanted to spend the day together. With Chris away at college most of the time he didn't get to see his favorite sibling very often. The decision to see the museam was a random one, made at a whim while walking through Atlas Park. It seemed a great end to a great day as they both loved history and the new displays recently opened up would be enjoyable to both. At just over six feet tall and very athletic, the Paragon University backup star running back usually didnt have to worry about the thugs and common criminals who wandered the streets. The thugs normally went after easier prey, ones that weren't likely to fight back. The twenty-two year old had not been mugged for years. His sister was not nearly as an imposing figure and with her young looks and beautiful features one would think she would be a common target to the local gangs. However her quick wits, and quicker feet had kept her out of trouble so far. For the seventeen year old high school senior, life couln't be better. She would graduate next month and had already recieved a gymnastics scholarship for Paragon University so she could be closer to her favorite brother. Both her brothers actually but neither one were close to their twenty-four year old eldest brother.
It was actually Sarah who noticed the group of skulls following them into the museam. She brought Chris's attention to them and for reasons he could not identify, a dark cold chill ran down his spine. He did not know why, but he knew they were after him and Sarah, and by the look of the Bone Daddy that led, them what they wanted wasn't merely the time of day.
Grabbing Sarah's arm he quickly led them towards the door, hoping that by getting outside they might encounter a wandering hero or even a squad of Longbow agents. As if sensing his intent, three of the skulls crossed over and stood directely in their path.
"where ya going guys" grinned one them, his eyes mocking them behind his skull mask. When those eyes fell on Sarah the grin turned into a dark leer that made her shiver with fear. The other two behind the speaker chuckled darkly as the speaker again addressed the two, "tell ya what bud, how about we make a deal. You leave, no harm no foul, and the chicky stays with us. What do ya say bud".
Chris had positioned himself infront of Sarah and chose not to answer the skull as he tried to watch the three infront of him and the other two who were now circling behind them. He could feel Sarah pressed hard against his back nearly shivering with fear. It was so thick Chris felt he could almost smell it.
The speaker had stopped grinning by now and was starting to get angry, "come on bud, don't be stupid. Save yourself and leave the girl or you will get dead and we'll take what we want from her anyway." Chris felt his anger rising at their words, at what they desired to do to his sister but he knew he probably could not stop them, not with a Bone Daddy leading them. He quickly looked over his shoulder at his sister, "Sarah...." The Bone Daddy finally growled in impatiance, and with a voice dripping with shadow ordered, "Enough, kill the boy and take the girl." At this the three skulls in front of them drew small weapons, an axe, a knife, and the speaker drew forth a pistol. The skull standing with the Bone Daddy brought forth a shotgun, it's tip sawed off to make it easier to hide beneath his black jacket.
Acting faster than the skulls expected Chris whipped around and shouting for Sarah to run, grabbed her and pushed her in front of him, both of them running deeper into the museam. The harsh retort of the pistol firing ringing sharply in his ears Chris barely felt the bullet enter his side, just above the left kidney. His only concern now was to get Sarah away from them. Unfortunitly it was getting late and the museam was all but empty, the visitors having left and the employees were few and far between. Sarah was running in front of him and he could hear her gasping for breath between her sobs of fear. She would not last much longer before she collapsed. He needed to get her out of here but the skulls were not far behind. Two of their number had stopped to deal with a security guard who had come to see what the noise was and Chris did not expect them to be merciful. Almost on cue with that thought a voice rang out, screaming in pain and fear and Chris new the guard did not prevail against the cruel thugs.
With the gaurds scream, Sarah sobbed louder and stumbled, almost falling. Chris caught his sister and pulling her into a side hall again pushed her infront of him. Together they ran to the back of the museam and into the weapons display. Praying to find something to use against the skulls he quickly scanned the room while pushing Sarah down behind one of the displays. Motioning for her to be quiet he quickly spun around as one of the skulls entered the display room. With a grin and malice in his eyes he turned back and shouted for his friends, "Hey, found em. they is in the weapon room". The skull flip tossed his knife and catching it by the handle walked towards the two. The other skulls slowly started filtering in behind him.
Desperately reaching out for anything he could use, Chris was suprised to find his hand connecting with the handle to a long thin sword, the grip large enough for two hands but the weapon was light enough to be used one handed. The blade was long and straight and seemed to have an edge on only one side. Grasping the weapon tightly Chris brought it in front of him. Almost immediately the pain in his side lessened and then vanished completely. A soft voice echo'ed softly in Chris' head, "Easy wolf brother, I am with you." Of their own accord, Chris' hands readjusted on the hilt, his right hand just underneath the cross guard and his left just below halfway down.
The skulls laughed as they saw their prey holding the blade before them, still figuring on an easy mark who would try some feeble defense before he died. Just like so many others that had fallen before them. The Bone Daddy, walking into the weapon room last merely grinned. "Finish this." he ordered. The voice in his head spoke to Chris again whispering patience, "Rest easy wolf brother, I will guide you. These fools do not realize that the hunted has become the hunter. When I give word, let me be your actions, guide your movements. Your sister will be safe, those who threatened her will not be." Chris could only nod briefly as small beads of nervous sweat broke out all over his body.
As the closest skull approached the voice in his head nearly shouted, "Now" and time seemed to slow for Chris. He felt his body react on it's own and he suddenly sprang forward, towards the skull with the axe, just behind the closest one. Swinging the blade straight across Chris felt it cut into and through the axe weilder. Continuing the cut Chris used the momentum to spin around and bringing the blade in a two handed grip straight back to him, the blade edge side down pointed directly out from his body, stabbed straight into the knife weilding skull he passed initially. He felt the blade stab directly through the gang members body and quickly pulled the blade back out.
Chris turned around and faced the three remaining skulls. The one with the pistol who had spoken initially yelped, "Oh [censored] and brought his pistol up with a sharp bang and the bullet sped towards it's target. Bringing the sword up diagnally from lower left to upper right, Chris both felt and heard the sword catch the bullet and deflect it harmlessly to the ceiling. Going with the movement of the parry, Chris stepped forward, spun around and dipped the sword blade low as he buckled his knees. Fully extending his legs at the end of the spin he brought the blade up into the skull, cutting him from crotch to chin and sending him flying up and back to land some feet behind where he was standing.
Still not quite sure excately what was happening Chris could only watch in horror as the skull in the black jacket with the shot gun fired, point blank into his chest. Growling with the sudden harsh pain, Chris stepped forward and slashed the sword quickly across the fallen, back and forth. Stepping back the gang banger brought the shotgun up again. Before he could fire Chris raised the sword up and with all the strength he could muster brought it back down again, slightly angled to cut into the skull's right shoulder and through to his left hip. The skull fell backwards, his shotgun firing uselessly into the floor.
Slowing to catch his breath, Chris only barely registered the deepening shadows in the room. Until, that is, a blast of pure shadow threw him through a display of spears and sent him rolling across the room to stop against the far wall. Growling Chris regained his feet and faced the Bone Daddy who was by now, radiating pure shadow. Rage echoed in the last Skull's voice as he cried out, "YOU WILL DIE BOY, I WILL FEED YOUR CORPSE TO THE GRAVE CROWS AND YOUR SOUL TO THE PITS OF DARKNESS". Jumping quickly over the next blast of shadow, Chris closed the distance to the Bone Daddy faster than he expected and brought the sword to bear again and again, cutting into the skull. Shadow swirled around them both obscuring sight. Finally the darkness simply melted away and Chris stood there, amazed he was alive and in shock of what he had seen, what he had done.
A familier voice cried out in fear and relief and as Chris turned to the sound he was suddenly wrapped in a tight hug. Sobbing against his chest, Sarah held him tighter as he wrapped his arms around her trying to whisper encouregment and telling her it would be alright. The sword in his hand vanished almost as suddenly as it had seemed to appear, yet Chris knew, if he needed it, it would be back with merely a thought.
After she had cried herself out, Sarah stepped back and gasped, "Chris, your chest!". Grimicing, only now remembering the shotgun blast to the chest, Chris started to apologize when she continued, "You're not hurt!". Looking down Chris realized she was right. The hole was still in his shirt, but his skin was unbroken. He knew the slug had penetrated, he had initially felt blood flowing down his chest, but now it was as if he had never been injured.
Sarah had stepped back and was looking around at the others, and noticing something strange, pointed it out to Chris. "Look Chris, the gang members. None of them are cut either." Chris could only blink in confusion as adrenaline started to leave him. His muscles aching now, he took Sarah by the hand and started to pull her towards the door, "Come on sis. Longbow or the cops should be here soon and I....I really don't want to talk with anyone right now."
Walking quickly the two left, exiting just before Longbow Wardens landed at the steps, drawn by the alarm that had sounded when the display of spears was broken. Inside they found a security guard from the museam dead near the entryway. From the way he was positioned with the look of fear on his face, to the unnatural whitening of his hair the two Wardens surmised the poor fellow had died by shadow, or negative energy. Continuing into the back of the museam the officers found the five skulls, all alive, all unconscious with no marks on them. Tagging them for extracation to the Zig prison, the Wardens could only guess as to what happened in here.
Epilogue:
Back at the University dorm he called home, Chris could only sit on his bed and wonder excatly what had happened today. Sarah was now at home sleeping and he felt horrible about hiding from his parents. The holes in his shirt could be diffacult to explain. Concentrating briefly, Chris "summoned" the sword. It appeared easily in his hand and upon concentrating again, vanished.
The air infront of Chris wavered briefly then solidified, sort of, into a ghostly image of a tall warrior with long dark hair, dressed in ancient leather armor. Thinking he should be suprised, or at least stunned Chris merely sat back and felt he knew this appiration. "Hello wolf brother:" the familier voice sounded in his head. Chris sighed softly and proceded to have a conversation with the ghost. "I take it I have you to thank for both the sword and saving my sister's life?"
"indeed wolf brother, I did step in. You are not properly trained yet and I had to ensure your survival. I also could not let my pack sister come to harm, for if I did, what kind of wolf would I be", the voice chuckled.
Shaking his head in confusion Chris asked, "wolf brother, pack sister. I don't understand, what are you talking about?". The ancient warrior smiled, "let me tell you a story young wolf....."
A couple hours later, Chris sat up a little straighter, "So what you are saying is, no one can see or hear you but me. You will train me in the use of this 'bladewolf' and I'll be expected to 'hunt' prey or badguys in some long tradition of protection family and home in the style of wolves protecting pack and den. My strength and speed will increase as well as my senses heightening to where I can smell strong emotions, hear faint sounds, and see great distances. And all this came about because the promise you made to your 'pack' was stronger, more magical than you expected. "yes, that seems to cover just about all of it." the ghost warrior smiled. "hunh" exclaimed Chris, "why me?" "You have been chosen by the Great Wolf, and he has placed his aspect in you. If you know what to look for it shines brightly in this city of shadow." "Oh. Ok." Chris stood up looking at the warrior asked. "When do we start?"