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Rise Of Myth: Heir To Valor 47 Durnham Of The Iron Guard

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The pained howling of the wendigo could be heard clearly, by the sound it was within a hundred meters by now.

"You sure you want to be here old man? I can handle this myself."

Durnham grunted. "I've more than a century on you, boy. I'm not young anymore, but I sure as h.e.l.l ain't old enough to hide behind children. Those of the Iron Guard only retire at the behest of death itself."

The old dwarf raised his steel bow and drew the twisted metal wire back. The subtle sound of metal bending under his strength was unnerving, Val wondered what the poundage was for such a bow.

Val could feel the ground begin to tremble as it did before as the wendigo charged at them. Whether the beast lacked intelligence or was simply overcome by its endless hunger, Val was not sure, but reckless charging seemed to be its favorite strategy.

"The beast approaches. I've neither enchanted nor Elven eyes, light him up and I'll give you a chance at a clean kill." Durnham drew the wire the rest of the way, standing nearly five feet in height, he was fairly tall for a dwarf. His arms were as thick as logs, thicker than Val's own, his muscles bulged under the strain of the bow.

Val ignited a lamp in his hand with a pair of runes. No sooner than he had cast away the darkness, the wendigo could be seen charging through the spa.r.s.e trees, a few dozen meters away. Durnham immediately s.h.i.+fted his aim and loosed a long steel arrow with a broad bladed head. The sound was terrifying as the wire snapped back to its resting position, the ma.s.sive arrow ripping through the air towards its target.

There was not even a howl of pain as the arrow ripped through the wendigo. It entered around the collar and exited clean out from the wendigo's right side, low on its torso, burying itself halfway into the base of a tree. The wendigo's charge broke as it stumbled, likely with shredded organs by the sheer volume of blood it was choking up. Before it could stand again, Durnham loosed another arrow, this time catching a flailing arm and pinning it to a tree.


Val looked on in mild shock at how effective the Dwarven archer was, but he also knew it would be only moments before the wendigo recovered again.

"Couldn't let it draw closer?" Val called back in a disgruntled tone as he raced forward, Tyrfing igniting in his hands. The wendigo was struggling to stand, the entry wound on its collar was already closing. Before it could recover, Val lunged forward, a.s.sisting it in freeing its pinned arm by severing it completely just below the shoulder.

The wendigo issued a gurgling howl as it was brutally freed, Val noted with satisfaction that the flesh was charring as embers crept up its shoulder. The dismembered arm was in the same condition.

"You've got your lungs back, but there won't be any funny games with that arm this time." Val glared at the monster with smoldering eyes, catching its black, beady gaze.

The wendigo recklessly lunged at Val but he had not practiced against its shadowy counterpart for nothing. He sidestepped the lunge, twisted his body and as if reading his intentions, Tyrfing seemed to pull itself down in a heavy, cleaving blow. The wendigo's body buckled as its head continued forward on its own, tumbling down the hill a short way before resting at the base of a tree.

Durnham approached. "A clean strike, very well done. Is it dead then?"

Val eyed the stumps where the right arm and head were once attached, both were continuing to burn, flesh charring as if poison was spreading from the wound.

"Not quite, but it won't be moving for a while."

Durnham walked down the hill and hefted up the head by it's long, s.h.a.ggy black mess of hair. Find authorized novels in Webnovel,faster updates, better experience,Please click for visiting.

"Contract's still good right? A hundred and fifty pieces of gold?"

"Aye, I can vouch for the kill personally if the head does not suffice."

"You can have the whole body if you like. Though I need to take the heart to ensure it remains dead." With great strength, Val kicked over the body of the wendigo. Still slightly paranoid from the night before, he simply swung his sword and eviscerated the body. Gingerly prying open its chest cavity, a disturbing chill emanated from within, and a large, black heart the size of a rugby ball, was still beating inside.

Val thrust his sword into the remaining arm, pinning it, before taking his knife and cutting the heart out. To his shock, the heart was as cold as ice, the disgusting, still beating, oozing frozen heart defied common sense. Holding it was uncomfortable enough from the temperature alone, but Val wished it would stop undulating and beating in his hands.

"I have to go take care of this to fully kill it, you mind taking the head back? I'll return shortly, drinks on me."

Durnham raised a curious brow, but nonetheless grunted in agreement and set off down the hill carrying the macabre trophy.

Val was not sure where to meet Coyote, but with the lake being the spot of their last meeting, he took back his sword and headed through the hills to the East. However no sooner than he had trekked five minutes, a familiar figure called down from a tree branch.

"You keep your word to a stranger, how curiously rare a trait, in a human." Coyote was sitting atop a thick branch, lounging as he enjoyed his pipe.

"Why does everyone insist on following me…"

Coyote smirked. "Not following, merely spectating from a distance, you fight well, decisive, heavy strokes with little afforded to defense, like Tyr himself. Uncannily so, as if you were receiving his personal instruction."

Val remembered his annoyance with Coyote's probing remarks and mannerisms. "I would like to relax, have a drink, maybe sleep at a reasonable hour, so do you want this heart or not?"

"Very well, I will take the heart." Coyote hopped down from the branch, and received the still beating heart from Val. Having settled his deal, Val turned to leave.

"Hold a moment." Coyote produced a long-stemmed pipe similar to his own, and a leather pouch from within his vestments.

"Give these to your one-eyed benefactor next you see him, a small token from me as a reminder that we have not forgotten his good will."

Val took them and looked down at the items in his hands curiously, the pouch was definitely tobacco and other herbs by the smell, but he accepted them nonetheless.

"Sure, I can do that—" When Val looked up, Coyote was gone, the hilly woods were quiet and only smelled of the trees now.

"He could at least say goodbye…" Val grumbled as he changed course to return to Kar Lodihr, moving quickly as to catch up with Durnham.

Moving at almost a jogging pace, Val caught up to Durnham as he was pa.s.sing through the abandoned farms. The dwarf paused to wait when he heard Val approaching, before the two walked the way back together.

"Finished your business with the heart?"

"I think so, it won't be getting back up again anymore."

"Good, perhaps we can still get these farms resettled and things can return to normal around here."

"Think the farmers will actually return?"

Durnham sighed. "No, they've already liquidated their a.s.sets and are on the next trade caravan out to serve the Aurulians. It's a shame really, I don't blame them, but they'll forever be poor over there. At least they could recover their losses and even retire comfortably here if they play their cards right."

"That bad?"

"They're free men and women here, but there it takes the word of the emperor or high n.o.bility for a serf to ever rise in station. Granted I hear they are well taken care of, provided they do not challenge the status quo."

Val shrugged. "I imagine for some people, that kind of stability is all they're asking for."

"Perhaps, speaking of wealth, you've got a hundred and fifty gold pieces to your name, any idea how you're going to spend it? Could buy a nice home with that sort of money. Bounty was meant for a much larger group after all."

"Hmm, leave it in a bank I trust for now I reckon. The only thing I'm interested in now are a nice pair of knives."

"Knives? Hmm, makes sense, don't know where you got that garbage but even a fledgeling smith can make better."

"Oh? Since you're so sure, mind recommending me somewhere?"

"Ha! We have our own smiths exclusive to the council and the guard, but you're in bed with the Black Dogs I hear, why not ask Harken?"

"I'm not 'in bed' with anyone, just an a.s.sociation of convenience."

Durnham chuckled. "Regardless, pay him a visit, it can take a while to get an order of proper aether-steel blades started, but the man was a master of a variety of weapons you know. If he holds you as highly as I've heard, he might lend a piece or two from his collection."

The two were approaching the gates, a couple of Durnham's men gaped in shock when they saw what Durnham was carrying. They quickly lifted the gate for the two to pa.s.s, and Val followed the seasoned guard captain to the guardhouse.

"That's the beast?" A younger guard was glancing back and forth between them and the dismembered head, awe and disgust complicating his expression.

Val was not sure what to do about the fact the head was still smoldering and charring despite having calmed Tyrfing to sleep. Fortunately no one seemed to pay it any attention, a.s.suming it to be the work of some magic.

"Aye, rest of the body is up in the hills, we can retrieve it in the morning, catalogue it properly. Val here is to collect the bounty, bring it to him so he can be on his way and we can put this whole thing behind us." Durnham instructed.

"Right, one moment." The young dwarf scrambled up the stairs to the second floor, returning a minute later with a heavy, rectangular wooden chest about a foot and a half long and a foot wide. Opening it the dwarf showcased neat stacks of heavy gold coins.

"One hundred and fifty gold pieces, minted by the council's treasury, for the extermination of the Terror of the Hills."

Durnham raised a brow. "'Terror of the Hills'?"

"Uh, we did not have a name for it and this sort of stuck, sir."

Durnham rolled his eyes. "Call it what you will, in the official writeup it will go down as 'Wendigo'."

"Yes sir." The dwarf closed the chest and pushed it towards Val.

Val took the small chest in his arms and the weight of nearly thirty pounds convinced him enough that it was indeed actual gold.

"Well, if you don't need anything else from me, I'll be off."

Durnham nodded to him and the guards made way for him as he left, staring at him in amazement and whispering among themselves. The wendigo that had claimed little over thirty lives, not counting livestock, was brought low by the captain of the guard and a vagrant.

"No more jokes from me about the captain."

"No kidding, since when did he use a bow? I don't think I could even draw that thing."

"I have no idea, but maybe the rumors were true? The captain was one of the honor guards to the king before he came here?"

Val made his way back to the Chimera's Den, giddy with excitement at how he might surprise Boldir and Asha. It had been an eventful and dangerous couple of days, but now he was stupidly rich since he had no real living expenses. He was looking forward to enjoying the remaining half week of his stay.

The tavern was lively, with nearly every seat taken, though as usual the bar was strangely empty save for guests of Boldir himself. Asha seemed to be a few drinks deep now and was chatting with Boldir in varying tones about something. Whatever it was, he was barely affording her any attention, polis.h.i.+ng some mugs and plates. Muninn had left already to deliver Val's letter in advance, leaving only Huginn to snack at his expense.

Seizing the opportunity with the two of them distracted, Val weaved through the rows of tables and drunk patrons and dropped the chest on the counter with a heavy thud.

Boldir cast him a disapproving glance, and Asha all but glared, but curiosity quickly crept over their faces as they saw Val grinning from ear to ear.

Without another word, Val simply turned the chest around and cracked it open slightly. Boldir nearly dropped a mug, quickly fumbling to catch it before quickly setting it down.

Asha, with rosy cheeks put two and two together quickly and set her mug aside. "Top shelf! Your most expensive whiskey!" She blurted.

"Oi!" It was Val's turn to glare disapprovingly at the drunk elf.

Boldir seemed to not be thinking straight, simply moving robotically to fulfill Asha's request.

"How characteristically reckless of you." Huginn remarked with indifference in his tone.

"Relax old bird, I went with him to make sure he did not get himself killed." Durnham took a seat at the bar, next to them, chuckling at the scene.

"Now then, a certain fiery eyed swordsman promised me a drink, eh?"

"Ha, sure, drinks are on me tonight."

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Rise Of Myth: Heir To Valor 47 Durnham Of The Iron Guard summary

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