Talorek's page

Talorek walked slightly crouched following hoof prints in the ground. He shook his head like he had been for the last couple of days. "No! No more! No more!" But still he saw it. His home, secluded from encroaching civilizations, in ruins after that blasted Mage had come and razed it. Revenge had come off the front of his mind some three days after it had happened as survival instincts had taken over, but he still remembered, and he still questioned. Shutting down the thoughts before they surfaced he angrily trudged on. He didn't want to have yet another philosophical debate with himself. The deer he was following had narrowly escaped death from two of his arrows. "Lucky beast." He muttered. The tracks suddenly veered left cutting across a large path. What was it called again? Ah yes, a highway. Talorek could barely believe humans, with their constantly shifting goals, could manage such a feat. Suddenly, Talorek heard a distinctive noise, a death scream! Talorek pulled out his bow and nocked an arrow. He cautiously crept towards where he heard the noise. He saw a very large woman holding a massive waraxe dressed in brilliant crackling amethyst armour, crying in front of man dressed in black who had been cloven in two. The man's companions were closing in for the kill. Releasing pent up energy that he had been keeping for the deer his hands blurred firing arrow after arrow into the black garbed men. Bandits he'd heard them called. Men who killed or intimidated people into giving them money, food and weapons. "Pathetic Curs" Talorek thought while turning the bandits into pincushions. Then he turned to the woman, he guessed it was her first kill. Remaining out of earshot he chuckled, remembering his first kill. He had refused to eat for a week until he found that his tribe had depended on the meat of Animals to survive, after which he was fine. He climbed a nearby tree and watched over the woman making sure she did not come to harm while she wrestled with a path he knew only too well.