A Challenger Approaches

The hunting party has returned, and you find yourself facing about a dozen men, winded but ready to fight. You note with some satisfaction these men appear at least fit and healthy, if not great warriors. The hunter at their head, however, almost gives even you pause. He is a beast of a man, your own height or nearly, with a frame even wider than your own. A scowl twists his bearded face, and he carries what appears to be a hammer of stone lashed to a thick branch.

The sight of their cheiftain's daughter, sprawled out and stained with your seed, stops the hunters in their tracks. You are glad it halts their wild charge, not wanting to face their full number at a gallop, but it also appears to enrage them. Particularly, you note, the massive brute at their fore. He bellows out a call, voice rumbling across the earing.

"Sister!" The massive man's face burns red with rage. "What has happened here?"

"It took you long enough, Brun! This is Rok, and he would challenge for your future place as chief." You would swear you detect a sort of humor there, as though the idea is absurd.

You suddenly wonder if her slow, gentle ministrations were born of admiration and inexperience, or the need to stall for time. She returns your questioning scowl with a defiant smile.

"My brother, Brun, who will be chieftain after my father. We do have some strength of our own, outlander. If you can't best him, how will you strengthen the rest of us?"

"And your promise to help bend these people to my will? Does your word mean nothing?"

Daya smiles, blue eyes flashing, and nimbly climbs to her feet. In a clear voice, she calls out across the clearing. "Rok invokes a challenge, for my hand and father's place. Will you meet him in the old rites, brother?"

Brun roars, hefting his great maul, and begins charging towards you. Daya smiles and begins backing away. "There. Now you only have to fight one man, instead of twelve."

You bark a harsh laugh. By the gods, this woman might have fit in amongst your own people. "Kali! Watch my new chieftess. I have some work to finish." Kali appears as if out of nowhere, spear poking more harshly at the disheveled woman than absolutely necessary. You wonder at the hostility, but it is a problem for another time. You heft your club and stride forward.

Crossing the clearing, Brun charges like a **** of nature, resembling the giant mammoths of your homeland. He begins to swing his mighty weapon, muscles bulging with effort. But if he is as strong as the mammoth, you are like the sabre cat, fluidly powerful. Nimbly, you spin out of reach, the massive hammer slamming into the dirt where you once stood. You swing your own club, the impact cracking loudly against Brun's skull, dropping him to the dirt.

Grinning over your fallen foe, you hope you haven't damaged him to much. Loudly you call out to the assembled tribe: "Your champion has fallen. The rest of you stand no chance against me. Why fight? I do-"

Before you know what has happened, you find yourself face down in the dirt, wind knocked from your lungs. It is only pure warrior instinct that has you rolling to the side before a hammer of stone crushes your skull. A leg like a tree trunk crashes into your ribs as you try to scramble to your feet, sending you sprawling into the dirt.

The **** of the kick sends you flying far enough to create some distance, allowing you to roll into a crouch, expecting to see the remaining hunters have ambushed you. Instead, it is only Brun, eyes filled with cold ****. A bit of a surprise, as you are not used to things you hit getting back up so soon. At least you did not kill him. What a waste that would have been! Still, you note the blow to the head seems to have left his eyes unfocused, and he pants with the exertion of the battle. He is a beast, but a wild one.

You charge, ducking under his wild counter swing and bowling Brun over. With your weight on his stomach, you bring powerful fists thundering into his thick skull. Still, he struggles to throw you off, roaring through the blood now flowing from his nose and blindly swinging meaty hands trying to dislodge you.

"Yield! Yield, damn you!" Still he struggles! His swings are wild, but each one that connects sends pain arcing through you, almost sends you flying off of him. Groping in the dirt, your hand finds his giant maul. Straining against its massive weight, you raise the weapon as high as you can. A shame, you think, but you will do what must be done.

"Stop! Stop!" Dazed, you both turn, seeing Daya running across to you. Your sister chases after her, spear whipping out to trip the plainswoman. She scrambles back to her knees, calling: "He yields! Brun! You yield!"

Slowly, Brun turns his head back to you, sluggishly processes the weapon poised above you. Through bleeding lips, he barks something that sounds like agreement. You put down the weapon, or rather let it fall to the ground. Gods it is heavy. The brute strength of this man astounds you.

Staggering back to your feet, panting, you reach your hand down to your fallen foe. "Than you live to see another day, Brun. Like I was saying. I don't want you all dead. I have big plans for you. All of you."