Gnrrla the Conqueror

Gnrrla was kicked out of her clan camp on her eighteenth birthday party. She stabbed her All-sharp sword into the rocky ground to keep from landing rudely on her face and her barely covered tits. Even so she couldn't get her only boot and greave covered legs under herself and landed on her loinclothed butt.

At once, the fiery redhead rose and turned back to attack. On shadow with many heads flickered from the camp's bonfire. She faced all 107 of the camp's warriors, their weapons drawn. She still estimated her chances.

The Captain of the Clan came forward with his shield and throwing mace. "Wrecking wench! You killed my son rather than marry him! And before that, you scarred and maimed all that would have you! You won all of the expulsion ceremonies! Now you are eighteen! Clan Law no longer protects you! Come close enough and we will kill you!"

"Not before I kill more than eighteen!" Gnrrla yelled back!

The Captain said nothing more, but dropped the mace to catch the cord that held its handle. He swung it in complete circles three times, then sent it straight at their untamed daughter!

Gnrrla cleaved it with All-sharp! The two halves of the mace landed with two thuds on two sides of her. "Come and get my family's sword and shield!" she challenged them. For generations the magic of All-sharp and the all-hard armor bracelets and shin guards had only worked for the most fearless. And at this time that was her. And the Clan knew it. They were the reason they had let her live. They thought her fire was what powered the magic. A magic that had been used on the side of the clan before.

But no longer could they bear the price.

"Weatherwoman!!" The Captain shouted.

Gnrrla knew not what the shaman was invoking, but she knew she would have to go through those in her way to get to her! It took time for the spell to be effected. There could be enough left for her to

The breezed that slid over and around her flesh increased in strength. She had less time than she had hoped. She ran forward, All-sharp raised. But the faster she ran, the stronger the wind against her! Just out of her sword's length of the Captain, she struggled to stay in place.

Her knocked-about tits were at last blown out of their buckskin halter and, finally, she was galed backwards! Her work was put into staying on her feet now.

Then ground stopped being level and she stumbled down the slope towards the river.

She stabbed the bank to tent pole herself fast.

But the soil was moist and loose. All-sharp too easily lived up to its name and it and her fell into the river. And were swept away.