Chapter 18 Chapter Fourteen: The Stolen Bloodline

Wulfgar stood outside Luskan, staring back at the city where he had been falsely accused, tortured, and publicly humiliated.But even so, the savage was not angry with those in the city, not even with the vicious magistrate.Had he happened to meet Jarkeheld, he'd probably have turned the guy's head off, just to get it over with, not out of hate.Wulfgar had left the Hate long ago, a long time ago.Long before the Woodshatter had come to find him with the cutlass, and Wulfgar had killed him.As early as when he came across the Pegasus tribe, a tribe with similar blood to him.The barbarians killed their evil shaman, a vow of vengeance he had sworn years before.Not out of hatred, not even a tinge of anger, but quite simply, Wulfgar just felt the need to move on with life in this way - when the horrific past could no longer be recalled.

Wulfgar had realized that he had not been moving, and it was all the more apparent when he stared back at the city.He circled in circles, very small circles, which brought him back to the same spot over and over again, a place where endurance could only be overcome with alcohol, where he could only get through each day by confusing the past and abandoning the future. place of the day. The barbarian slammed his palms to the ground, trying to figure out for the first time in his months in Luskan how he had gotten himself into this downward spiral.He thought of his hometown in Icewind Dale in the far north, where he had shared so much excitement and joy with his friends.He thought of Bruno, the man who had shown him such kindness after beating him in battle as a boy.The dwarf treated him like his own child, and asked Drizzt to teach him the true ways of fighting.Drizzt had been a friend of his too, the elf who had led him into grand adventures, standing with Wulfgar in every battle, win or lose.And now, he had lost Drizzt.

He recalled Bruenor again, and the dwarf had bestowed upon Wulfgar his greatest technical achievement, the magical Fang of Aegis.It is a symbol of Bruno's love for him.And now he not only lost Bruenor, but also lost Aegis' Fang. He thought of Catti-brie, perhaps that was most special to the Savage, the girl who had stolen his heart, the girl whom he admired and respected most.Maybe they can't be a couple, or husband and wife.Maybe she absolutely couldn't stand having his baby, but she was his friend, that was absolutely true.Wulfgar remembered the last argument between them, when he had learned the true meaning of that friendship between the two of them.Catti-brie would always give him any help, would share the most intimate moments and feelings with him, but Wulfgar knew that her heart was actually with someone else.

This fact did not cause irritation or envy among the savages.All he felt was respect, because no matter how Katie felt, she would still do her best to help him.Now, he lost even Catti-brie. Wulfgar thumped the ground again.He was no match for those friends, whether it was Bruno, Drizzt, or Catti-brie.Even Regis, despite the halfling's modest stature and lack of combat prowess, would stand before Wulfgar in times of crisis, would still serve as the barbarian's shield, and would do everything in his power to serve him. Block damage.How did he lose all of this? His attention was suddenly drawn back to reality—a carriage was coming out of Luskan's west gate.Despite Wulfgar's mood, he still smiled as the wagon approached.The coachman, a plump middle-aged woman, came into his sight.

That's Morik.The two of them had been exiled a few days ago, but had been wandering around the perimeter.The rogue explained that if he wanted to survive in the wild he would have to go back and get some supplies, so he infiltrated the city alone.From the cautious way the two horses moved, and from the fact that Morik had owned a carriage and horse after all, Wulfgar knew his sneaky little friend had succeeded. The thieves turned the wagon off the wide road and onto a path that curved into the woods, where Wulfgar was waiting for him.Morik stepped up to the place under the cliff where the barbarian sat, and stood there hunched over.

"Not a very difficult thing to do," he declared. "The guards didn't recognize you?" Wulfgar asked. Morik snorted, as if the idea was ridiculous. "These are the same guards that we had when we were kicked out of the city," he explained, his tone full of pride. Their experience at the hands of high-ranking Luskan officials reminded Wulfgar that he and Morik were nothing more than two giants flopping about in a small puddle, compared to those behind the gigantic city that looked like a bog. Insignificant to the rambunctious characters - but even in a corner like theirs, Morik is still a big one! "I even dropped a bag when I was leaving the city gate," the thief continued. "A guard chased me just to put the bag back on the carriage."

Wulfgar came down from the cliff to the wagon and spread the canvas covering the cargo.Below were bags of food, rope, and shelter-building materials, but what brought Wulfgar's sensitivity to a crescendo were boxes of bottles, full of the exciting, powerful liquid. "I think you'll be satisfied," said Morik, leaning closer to the big man as he stared at the goods. "Leaving the city doesn't mean we have to leave the things that make us happy. I've been wondering if I should Pull Delly Curdy on too." The barbarian shot Morik an angry look.To describe the girl in such an obscene way displeased him deeply.

"Come on," said the rogue, clearing his throat to change the subject visibly, "let's find a secluded place to extinguish the flames in our throats." Pain between joints and torn abdomen.Those wounds, especially his knee, will take a long time to heal.He paused again for a moment, admiring his astonishing handiwork with the wig up, before he climbed into the driver's seat and took the reins in his hand. "The horses don't look very good," Wulfgar noted.The pair of livestock looked old and haggard. "I need money to buy wine," Morik explained.

Wulfgar looked heavily at the goods again, thinking that Morik should have spent all his money on a couple of good horses, thinking that those days in the bottle would be over.The Savage was about to take issue with the horse again when he was interrupted by a greeting from Morik. "There are bandits on the road," the thief reminded, "or so I got the news in the city. The bandits are in the forest at the northern end of the road, all the way to the Spine of the World." "Are you afraid of bandits?" Wulfgar asked suspiciously. "Only fear those who have never heard of us," Morik explained, and Wulfgar understood the deeper meaning.In Luskan, Morik's reputation could keep thieves at liberty among the hooligans of a bar, but now...

"We'd better get ready for trouble to come," said the rogue.He reached under the driver's seat and pulled out a giant axe. "Look," he said with a smile, visibly proud of himself as he pointed his finger at the surface of the axe, "it's got Crip Sharkey's blood on it." The executioner's axe!Wulfgar wanted very much to ask Morik how he had managed to get his hands on the weapon in the Nine Hells, but in the end decided it was better not to know. "Go straight," Morik instructed, patting the seat next to him.The burglar pulls a bottle of wine from the nearest chest. "Let's walk and drink and discuss future plans."

Wulfgar kept staring straight ahead as he climbed into the chair, trying not to look at the bottle.Morik offered the bottle, but the Savage ignored it with a grimace and teeth.After shrugging, the thief took a big gulp first, and then handed over the bottle again.Wulfgar declined a second time.This brought a hint of confusion on Morik's face, but the confusion quickly turned into a smile as he realized that Wulfgar's refusal would leave him with more wine. "We don't have to live like primitive people, because we're still on the way," Morik began. There was no way Wulfgar could ignore the sarcasm coming from someone so drunk.All afternoon the Savage had managed to resist the temptation of the drink, and Morik had been gleefully guzzling.Keeping the wagon going at a quick pace, the thieves hurled empty bottles at every stone they passed, then howled with joy as it shattered into thousands of pieces. "You're making a lot of noise for us who are trying to brigand," Wulfgar grumbled. "Avoid?" Morik asked back, crackling his knuckles. "I won't do that. Bandits often have some well-equipped campsites, and we may find some comfort in them." "Those well-equipped campsites are sure to belong to successful bandits," Wulfgar said, "and those successful bandits are likely to be very good at their jobs." "Like the Woodshatter, my friend," Morik reminded.When Wulfgar still seemed confused, he added, "Perhaps they'll accept the offer to allow us to join the Order." "I don't think so," Wulfgar said. Morik shrugged, then nodded. "Then we'll have to drive them away," he said nonchalantly. "We haven't even found them yet," Wulfgar muttered. "Oh?" Morik asked, swerving the wagon abruptly into a side road, then braked the wheels so hard that Wulfgar nearly fell out of the wagon. "What's wrong?" the barbarian shouted after jumping down.His figure was barely squatting in the bushes, and a dirty branch whipped his arm. "Morik!" "Quiet, my big friend," said the thief, "there is a river ahead, but there is only one bridge over it, and a robber collecting tolls for his living will no doubt make good use of it." The two rushed out of the bushes , jumped onto the embankment.Morik slowed his weary horses to a slow walk and began to cross the crumbling, rotting wooden bridge.To the dismay of the thieves they passed safely without seeing a single robber. "A bunch of newbies," muttered a disappointed Morik, deciding to walk the few miles before turning around and crossing the bridge again.At this moment the thieves suddenly stopped the carriage.There was a tall and ugly man approaching from the middle of the road, with a sword in his hand blocking their way. "How can you two bastards wander around my woods so merrily without my lord's permission?" said the bandit, swinging his sword over his shoulder. "Your woods?" Morik asked. "Why, good sir, I think the woods are shared by travelers." Then he added, under his breath, to Wulfgar, "Orcs." "Fool," returned Wulfgar in a voice only Morik could hear, "I mean, you, not the bandit, are looking for trouble..." "I think it's a good way to show your heroic side," the rogue replied. "Besides, the rogue has a cozy camp full of supplies, no doubt." "What are you talking about?" the wretch asked. "Why, you, my good sir," replied Morik quickly, "my friend was saying that he thought you were only a thief, and that you didn't own the whole wood." The robber's eyes widened, and he stammered some failed answers in return.He spat on the ground. "I mean this is my forest!" the robber clarified, pointing to his chest at the same time, "Togo's forest!" "And how much does it cost to get through here, good Togo?" Morik asked. "Five ducats!" cried the wretch, and then, pausing to think, added, "Five each!" "Give it to him," Wulfgar muttered. Morik laughed, and an arrow came flying, passing just an inch from his face.Suddenly the heist became so organized that the thieves quickly changed their minds and started reaching for the wallet. But Wulfgar, too, had changed his mind, enraged by the imminence of the attempted murder.Before Morik agreed to the price, the Savage had leaped out of the car and charged towards Togo with his bare hands, but then suddenly he changed his mind and course of action.Two arrows flew across his path.The barbarian turned to the terrifying archer, who was hiding in a tall tree a dozen paces away from the road.Wulfgar charged through the first brush of grass and slammed into a fallen log.As fast as he could go, he lifted the log and threw it into the face of another crouching human before continuing to charge toward his previous target. An arrow slammed into the ground near his feet as he neared the bottom of the tree, and Wulfgar ignored the close miss.He jumped up to a low branch, and then climbed up with great strength and agility, almost running on the trunk.After breaking some twigs and climbing over other irregular branches, the barbarian came to the same level as the archer.The creature, a gnoll bigger than Wulfgar, was trying desperately to place another arrow. "Here you are!" bellowed the timid Gnoll, throwing his bow at Wulfgar and leaping from a branch, preferring to fall twenty feet rather than face Wulfgar's wrath. But it wasn't that easy for the creature to escape.Wulfgar reached out a hand quickly and grabbed him by the collar as he fell.Despite all the writhing and falling impact, Wulfgar had no trouble pulling him up, despite the uncomfortable position he was in and the gnoll's own weight. Then he heard Morik's cry for help. The rogue standing on the wagon swung his thin short sword hard and hard, fending off attacks from Togo and another human swordsman who had just burst out of the bushes.To make matters worse, he heard a third approaching sound from behind, and those bows and arrows were still cutting the surrounding air regularly. "I'll pay for it!" he yelled, but the monstrously gigantic creature just laughed. Out of the corner of his eye Morik saw an archer taking aim.He jumped back as the arrow came flying, and also dodged the thrust of the surprisingly nimble human swordsman in front of him.But the move took its toll, as he staggered over the back of his seat and crashed into a case of bottles.Morik jumped to his feet, screaming at his humiliation, his sword resting limply on the back of his chair. The rushing Togo tried to snatch the driver's seat, but the angry Morik was even faster, and he rushed straight up, ignoring the other swordsman and archer.Togo drew back his arm to sweep, but Morik quickly adjusted the edge of his sword and thrust out first, hitting the orc's hand and affecting his control of the weapon.Just when Togo's sword hit the wooden seat with a click, Morik, who was hiding behind it, had already turned his sword to block the attack from his fellow robbers.He took out a dagger from his belt and nimbly stabbed Togo several times in the stomach with the weapon.The desperate orc tried to parry the blows with his bare hands, but Morik was too quick and too clever for his thrusts to circle around those hands, even with his sword. When he was twisting with the sharp blade of his Togo companion. Togo fell back from the chair and fell to the ground.He only took a few short steps before collapsing to the ground, clutching his torn internal organs. Morik heard a third assailant coming around the side of the wagon.At this moment, there was a terrifying scream ahead, and then the approaching enemy also screamed.The rogue looked in that direction just in time to see Wulfgar's prize - the gnoll archer, arms flapping helplessly, flying high and screaming all the way.The physical projectile struck the third bandit, a small human woman, who was thrown hard on her back and piled into a heap beside the wagon.The woman groaned and tried to squirm away, while the archer lay motionless on the ground. Morik suppressed the attack of the remaining swordsman, and continued to fight while moving down from the coachman's position.But with his companions already lying down around him, the swordsman obviously didn't have any thoughts on fighting.He dodges Morik's jab and backs away throughout the fight, trying to jump into the bushes by the side of the road. Morik engaged the bandit's weapon repeatedly with his sword as he advanced.He thrusts, then quickly retreats when the swordsman tries to block, then cunningly rolls the blade and thrusts forward again, all the while keeping out of contact with the guy's blade.The man staggered, blood streaming from one shoulder.He started to turn and run, but Morik kept pace, forcing him to turn and defend. The rogue heard another terrified cry behind him, followed by the snapping of branches.He smiled as he understood the message from the voice: Wulfgar was still cleaning out the archers. "Please, sir," moaned Morik's prey again and again, as every thrust through his skin by the rogue proved him to be a better swordsman, "we Just want your money." "Then you won't hurt me and my friends after taking the money?" Morik asked with a sneer. The man shook his head vigorously, and Morik used his distraction to amuse himself with another swipe of the sword, drawing a red line across his cheek.The thieves' captive fell to his knees with a cry, threw his sword aside, and begged for forgiveness. "I am well known for my kindness," said Morik, in a tone of sarcasm and sympathy, as he heard Wulfgar's voice approaching rapidly, "but I'm afraid it's not like that, my friend." Wulfgar rushed frantically and grabbed the kneeling man by the throat, hoisting him into the air and pinning him against a tree.With just one hand—the other clutching a crude arrow shaft protruding from his shoulder defensively—Wullfgar lifted the bandit off the ground, nearly choking him with the hand at his throat. "I can make him stop," Morik explained, stepping forward and placing a hand on his big friend's swollen forearm.That's when he noticed how badly Wulfgar was wounded. "You must lead us to your camp." "No camp!" the man gasped.Wulfgar pressed harder, and began to twist his body. "I will! I will!" screamed the bandit, and that sound died away, along with all the air, as Wulfgar grabbed hold of it.An expression of pure anger froze on the barbarian's face, and he began to exert force. "Let him go," Morik said. no answer.The man writhed and struggled in Wulfgar's hand, but could neither escape nor breathe. "Wulfgar!" cried Morik, pulling hard with the arms that gripped the big man. "Let him go, friend!" Wulfgar heard nothing, didn't even pay attention to the rogue. "You'll thank me," Morik swore, though he wasn't quite sure of it himself, as he clenched his fist and slammed Wulfgar on the side of the head. Wulfgar let go of the bandit, who cowered unconscious at the tree roots, but the reason the barbarian did it was to hit Morik with a backhand, which sent the bandit staggering backwards, and Wolf Fu Jia has already made a pursuit action.Morik raised his sword, ready to use it to stab the big man through the heart, if necessary.But at the last moment, Wulfgar stopped and blinked like he had just woken up.Morik realized that the barbarian had just returned to the time and place he had been before. "He'll take us to camp now," said the rogue. Wulfgar nodded silently, his eyes still hazy as if shrouded in mist.He looked coldly at the arrow nailed to his shoulder. The barbarian turned pale and looked at Morik in bewilderment before he fell headfirst into the dust. Wulfgar awoke in the back of the carriage to find that the carriage was speeding along the edge of a field with towering trees on the other side.He tried to lift his head, almost panicked.A woman was walking along the road, one of the gang of robbers.What happened?They failed?More fear was about to pour in, but now he heard Morik's voice of relief and joy, and the Savage tried to lift himself up, but the pain made him flinch as he put the weight on his own wounded arm. for a moment.Wulfgar looked over there shoulder curiously: the arrow was gone, and the wound had been washed and bandaged. Morik sat a little far away, drinking and chatting affectionately with another robber, a gnoll, as if they were old friends for many years.Wulfgar moved to the back of the wagon and rolled over, unsteadily sitting up.The world in front of him made him feel dizzy, and the wilderness in his sight occasionally passed a few small black dots.However, the feeling soon faded, and Wulfgar approached Morik cautiously. "Aha, you're awake. A bottle, my friend?" asked the thief, pulling out a bottle. Wulfgar frowned and shook his head. "Come on, you should have a sip," said the gnoll with the dirty dog ​​face sitting next to Morik.He was holding a large bowl of stewed meat, and every time he stuffed a spoonful into his mouth, half of it fell to the ground or dripped onto the front of his clothes. Wulfgar glanced at Morik's grubby new companion. "Take it easy, my friend," said the rogue, who saw some danger in the glance. "Michaels is a friend now, and he is the leader of Togo after death." "Tell him to go," Wulfgar said, and the gnoll's jaw nearly dropped. Morik was the first to stand, walking to Wulfgar and taking his good arm. "They're allies," he explained. "All of them. Loyal to Togo, loyal to me. And you." "Let them go," Wulfgar repeated harshly. "We are on our way now," Morik argued. "We need more eyes to scout those unknown areas, and more swords to help us defend against threats from those areas." "No need," Wulfgar said flatly. "You don't understand these dangers, my friend." Morik said in a controlled tone, hoping to appease his big friend's anger. "Let them go!" Wulfgar yelled suddenly.Seeing that he didn't make Morik move, the barbarian rushed towards Michaels like a storm, "Get out of here, get out of this forest!" Michaels looked over at Morik over the big man.The latter shrugged in a resigned gesture. Michaels stood up. "I want to be with him." He pointed to the thief and said. Wulfgar slapped the wooden bowl away from the Gnoll's hand, grabbed the front of his shirt, and pulled the guy up to his toes, "One last chance for you to be able to leave by yourself." The big man growled and pushed Michael away. Stein stepped forward. "Mr. Morik?" grumbled the chief gnoll. "Oh, go away then," said Morik sullenly. "What about the rest of us, going too?" asked another human in the bandit gang, standing behind a pile of rocks at the edge of the field, holding a slender bow. "Choose, them or me, Morik," Wulfgar said, and there was no room for argument in his tone.Both the barbarian and the rogue glanced back at the archer, who had nocked an arrow to the bowstring. Anger began to seep in Wulfgar's eyes as he began to walk towards the archer. "One shot," he called steadily, "maybe you have time to shoot me one. But will you hit the mark?" The archer raised his bow. "I don't think you will," Wulfgar said, smiling. "No, you will miss. Because you know it." "Know what?" the archer asked boldly. "Know that if your arrow hits me, it won't kill me," Wulfgar replied, continuing to stalk him deliberately, "at least not immediately, not before my hands are at your throat. " The man drew back the bowstring, but Wulfgar just smiled more confidently and moved on.Archer looked nervously around for supporters, but he found none.When it became clear and unmistakable that the foe he faced was too strong, he let go of his bowstring, turned, and fled. Wulfgar turned back.Michaels had already run far away. "Now we have to watch out, along with them," Morik was visibly sullen as Wulfgar turned to him. "You've cost us our allies." "I would not ally myself with murderous little thieves!" Wulfgar said simply. Morik jumped back from him. "Then what am I? If I'm not a thief?" Wulfgar's expression softened. "Well, maybe with one exception," he corrected with a chuckle. Morik's smile was uncomfortable. "Come, my big but not very bright friend," he said, pulling out another bottle, "to the both of us, two robbers!" "Are we going to take the same path as those predecessors just now?" Wulfgar asked aloud in astonishment. "Our old ones weren't very bright," Morik explained. "Even I knew where to find them, because they were so predictable. A good bandit retreats to the next level after every attack." A target area. A good bandit will look all over the place, and they will always gather enough information to find and defeat the city guards, before the merchants are riding into the city on horseback." "You talk as if you know this kind of life well." "I've done it like this many times," Morik admitted. "Just because we're out in the wild doesn't mean we have to live like wildlings." The Rogue repeated what was becoming his mantra. .Morik held up the bottle to Wulfgar. It seemed to the thief that the barbarian mustered all his fortitude to refuse the bottle.He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, and he was still agitated by those bad guys.Retreating into a vortex of semiconscious states is indeed a very attractive option at this time. But Wulfgar resisted anyway by walking away from the already dazed Morik.He moved to the other end of the field, climbed a tree, and placed himself in such a comfortable little environment, sitting there looking out over this remote and barren land. His brows tightened again when his eyes touched the mountains in the north, which was the Spine of the World, the barrier between him and another world in Icewind Dale, where he might have known some of the life there, and some of it might still be understood.He thought again of his friends, and most of all Catti-brie.The Savage fell asleep, and he put his arms around her, and she kissed him tenderly, relieving him of all the pains he suffered in this world. Suddenly Catti-brie stepped back, and when Wulfgar looked over, two small ivory-like horns sprouted from her forehead like a seed, and a pair of huge bat-like wings spread out from her back.A succubus, one of the fiends of the Abyss, had once again fallen into the hellish torment trap Errtu had designed for him, and the monster was alluring him with its graceful and comfortable appearance. Wulfgar's eyes widened suddenly, and his breathing became labored.The savages tried to ignore the horrific sight before them, but they didn't let him go.Not this time.The sight was so painful, so obvious, that the Savage was amazed at it all, and at the life he had been going through these last few months, he saw it all again as a trap designed by Errtu to make him feel hopeful. , so that the demon can stop it at will.The savage saw the succubus, the hideous creation that was tempting him... "No!" Wulfgar yelled, because the memories were too ugly, too frightening, and because he had to fight them all over again. I stole your blood, the succubus said to him telepathically, and Wulfgar could not resist the voice.The demons had done this to him several times during the years of tormenting him, taking his semen and laying eggs containing those winged imps, Wulfgar's children.For the first time since he returned to the main plane, Wulfgar could consciously and clearly recall this past, and for the first time felt the horror of his demon descendants appearing in front of him. To break down the mental barrier he erected. He could see them now, saw Errtu bring one of those offspring before him, a crying baby, his succubus mother standing behind the daemon.He saw Errtu holding the child aloft for display, and then, right before Wulfgar's eyes, before the howling mother's eyes, the archdemon gnawed off the child's head.Wulfgar couldn't breathe, spattered all over Wulfgar with spurts of blood, and he couldn't comprehend that Errtu had found another way to torture him, the worst way possible. Wulfgar half-climbed and half-falled from the tree, dropping his wounded shoulder to the ground, opening the wound again.To him, the pain was as if it had never happened, and he sprinted across the field to find Morik who had fallen beside the wagon.Wulfgar hopped on to the boxes behind the car and smashed open one of them frantically. his child!A child of his stolen blood! The powerful liquid burned and poured all the way in, its heat expanding and expanding, slowly muddying Wulfgar's senses, obscuring those horrible sights.