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Greta, listening to the planning, snorts in derision. (Skald)"I think I have had my fill of being carried in the air, into strange castles like some birds chick. I believe I will hunt and sample this world's exciting new delicacies while you have your little adventure. I will see you back at Grandmother's house; farewell my love." the worg growls at Sven. She begins to lope away into the mountains, her white fur quickly masking her presence in the snowy fields.
Greta, silent for some time now, snorts into the evening air and joins in after Kalt's comment. "Fine weather - perfect for hunting. This whole place stinks of wyrms, though." She sniffs the air, warily. "I wonder how many of these lizards are about - never good to have too many meddlers nearby."
The she-worg recovers from her blindness. Sprinting quickly towards the plants, she uses the cover of trees to shield herself as she approaches. When she closes, she unleashes her pruinae oris, frost washing over the plants. The effect upon them is minor, wounding them only slightly.
Greta snorts in derision as the party retreats from the treant. "Why bother helping helping it? It's just another of the witch's puppets, no better then the trolls or that crib-thief in disguise." "I hope we hunt somewhere interesting soon. I tire of giant-flesh and the thought of biting into that tree is disgusting. Trees are good for marking boundaries, nothing else."
Greta snorts and paces next to Sven. She stands proudly, curling her tail around her paws. "He certainly talks as much as the Witch Queen's whelps."
Greta growls unhappily, lowering her body and raising her hackles. "You're not seriously considering allowing that.... thing into this pack. I don't care how many people he can turn into toads, you need fighter to hunt the Witch Queen and her daughters, not fuzzballs. A frost giant would eat him for breakfast." The winter worg bares her teeth and wisps of icy exhalation float up - its an obvious attempt to intimidate the much smaller Tiknesr. The gesture is unnerving, her frost rimed mouth nerve-wrackingly close to the ratfolks head. Spoiler:
Her allies closing in, Greta breathes deeply before exhaling rime upon the centaur - The cold skirts Kalts flanks but the winter worg aims well. In her care to avoid hitting her allies, Vsevolod also dodges most of the breath - unlike the Svarthurim, though, he feels the cold.
The winter word begins bound at full speed, outmaneuvering the centaur and approaching from behind - snapping at his rear heels to distract him.
Blood foams from Greta's lips. "Damn you giants! Damn your people! DIE!" Her words are lost in the next snarl as the worg leaps with fury and abandon at the wounded western giant, death the only thing on her mind. Her teeth find purchase in the giant's flesh of the wounded giant, and the worg finishes Avora's work causing the giant to fall. She sways, fur matted with blood. Spoiler:
The worg seems quite wounded, but fights with the typical fury the heroes have come to expect from the creature - to no avail though, as she cannot penetrate the thick skin of the giant she faces off against.
The worg rushes in besides her packmates, biting at the heels of the other giant. She attempts to drag this giant off its feet as well, but the remarkable luck of her earlier fights does not visit her again.
"'Metal skin'. So flowery... I have worn the skin of a human before, I know the words for your arms and armor. I have mail when I wear my human skin, why not mail for my wolf-skin. I suppose you could make hide out of the skin of one of these giants - I admit the ideal holds a certain appeal." The worg grins, all teeth.
Greta growls in frustration. "My people are lords among wolves, not blasted moles or dwarves. I tire of this place, my wolf." she whines to Sven. "If we sleep, we sleep but I want out of here, and the sooner the better." The worg snarls and paces a bit before she manages to calm herself. She pauses to sniff the air ahead and regally announces her verdict. "The way ahead stinks of giants and death. I can smell it even here; the smell of decay and the dying reeks." Calmer now, the worg curls at Sven's feet and begins to lick her wounds. She pauses to look up at Sven. "If you can't find a way to steal Grandmothers magic of making man-shaped-wolves, then fashion me something to give me protection against our prey."
The winter worg howls in anger, but stops her snarling attacks long enough to breath another cone of frost. This time however, the graceful asura leaps clear of the cold.
Snarling and infuriated by the scent of blood in the air, the mass of white fur and teeth snaps at the muli-armed horror - but her bite fails to wound the swift moving asura.
Greta heeds Sven's quickly barked commands; in a white flash, she circles around and attempts to play "fetch" with the asura's heel. She latches on the "demon", but it manages to both keep its feet and avoid the words of her powerful bite. Much of her attack is blunted by the creatures natural defenses.
The worg moves to the edge of the clearing a breathes a blast of ice; despite the upasunda's quickness, it catches the full brunt of the icy blast, moving more slowly for a brief moment under the weight of the rime. Spoiler:
Greta whines and circles, lacking any manner of magical weapon and cringing at the sight of a creature born of pure fire. She settles upon releasing a breath of ice from a distance. Spoiler:
The she-wolf growls from the back of the group as the creatures flee the room. "I hate witches and their riddles.."
Greta whines and growls, pacing angrily. (Skald)"Damn the firstborn, damn you humans, damn Baba Yaga. I came with you because you are my pack now. I came because you are the hunter that I want beside me chasing the weak elk and the slow gnome. But this is no hunt, this is... crawling around like a kobold or dwarf." The winter worg breathes out an ice-cold sign and hangs her head defeated. "Of course I can follow you, Sven Wolkskin. And I will wait for this magic while I live in the dark."
The she wolf turns to sight and scent to track her prey. She staggers towards the sounds; coming close, she pauses and unleashes the frost of her breath. In her blindness, though, she catches Kalt in the blast as well. .
Greta comes over and licks a bit of blood off of Sven's skin. (Skald)"Sweet and tangy. Careful; you never what kind of animal it might attract." She circles around Sven once, rubbing against him.
The she-wolf opens and closes her mouth, obviously trying to shake the taste of something putrid. (Skald) "I never know the Witch Queen favored green servants. Witches were always bone grinders and man-hunters, not growers of killer trees and tentacled... things." She snorts in the direction of the devil-satyr. "And that thing is far too foul to make a good meal"
Greta looks slightly bored, licking her fur while Shanya converses with the giant. (Skald)"Are you done plotting? At least in that southern tongue of yours. Are you going to kill that thing? It's painful to sit here and listen to it babble on with itself. You would probably be doing it a favor."
Greta, perhaps not particularly sensitive to the presence of her rider, circle around and snaps at the invisible creature. Her smell guides her true despite its invisibility, but her bite misses the foe all the same.
Greta turns to Lana. (Skald) "You look light enough, healer. You may sit upon my back. But let us be clear: I am no common worg. Winter wolves to not suffer riders... but neither do we fly, so perhaps we can overlook this humiliation just this once. Perhaps you should strap yourself in, in case those paws are not up to the task of holding on." She smiles, showing her teeth.
The worg yawns, showing her many teeth. "Sounds like they speak of death to me." She looks hungrily at the boar. "It has been a long time since I've had fresh meat - and you two-legs don't seem to to have any interest" Without ceremony Greta trots back to the boar and starts tearing into the hide. She pauses to looke up, blood covering her muzzle"Do go on; I'll be along shortly, pack brothers and sisters" |
