Big Game - Om'riggor

[Oguur]

His eyes opened to look up at the stars and glowing nebulas above, the sky and the air that belonged just below it, dancing, never stoping for long. The wind rustled the grass around him, still holding a hint of the incence he had used to help reach a state of meditation. It was carassing his skin, carrying scents of earth and water, hints of beasts and the grass they hade eaten. Soon it would also guide the flames and smokes that were to come.

It had been the first time he had asked the spirits anything. Specifically, it had been the wind he had turned to, it was the crucial one, and what he felt closest to. Would it listen? He thought so, it felt right now, his mind at ease. The low sounds constantly washing against his mind more quiet, but for the wind. The wispers were there, strong but somehow withdrawn, like the comming of a storm, the busts before the full fury of a hurricane unleashed. His fingers were tingling slightly, infact most of his body was. The same sensation he had gotten when he first touched the stone that pierced his ear. As he reached up for it, it was as if a jolt passed through him, but his hand hadn't withdrawn. It felt good. He was eager to start the hunt. Winds never stay the same place for long, moving, dancing, almost impossible to trap. He would be like the wind today, and it felt like the air would be with him too. Lightly rubbing the stone in his ear, he lowered his hand. It was his element.

With a grunt he pushed himself to a sitting, then rose on the edge of the cliff, looking out over the big white mountain. There was a light breeze coming from behind him, lightly brushing against his skin. If he closed his eyes and relax, he could almost had imagined that he was flying, but his feet decided to keep reminding him that he was still standing on rock. Beside them were the things he had prepared for the hunt. Three wooden throwing spears, a bag partially filled with oil, what used to be dried talbuk extrements, alongside the mining pick and an unlit torch. It had been quite rusty when he got it, but after a long time of sharpening it, there were only traces of rust remaining on the metal. Crouching down, he lifted it up and placed the tip against his palm, the weight of the tool causing pain to radiate out from his hand and up his arm. As he lifted it again with a grunt, there were a shallow dent in the skin, a bit lighter before the blood flowed back were it had been pushed away. It wouldn't be a good weapon for cutting. Then again, it wasn't cutting that he would need. The long and narrow arc of metal, all the weight concentrated to a small point for shattering rock, would pierce thick hides and crush bones just fine. A good tool, it could be well trusted.

The herd were approching from the distance, like they seemed to do every day. They rarely ventured up here, but usually close enough. He let his gaze sweep over the grey masses slowly comming closer, scattered loosely in what could only be called a single group from this distance. Much closer, and they would appear to be individuals randomly walking about, minding their themselves. After lighting the torch on the small fire he had made up at the edge, he threw some earth over it to extinquish the flames. Rolling his shoulders, he put on the quite heavy shoulderbag, pushing it to his back and picked up the torch. When he had walked halfway down the slope, paused, looking closely at the ground. With a grunt he pushed the edge of the torch into the soil, then continued down. At one side of the he had placed the spears and the mining pick. Placing two of the spears in one hand, he took the last one with a firm grip, testing the balance carefully. There wouldn't be any need for the pick just yet, so he let it stay down on the ground, making sure to memorize the location.

A big bull had ventured fairly close. It wasn't anything compared to the old white Elekk they had killed here earlier, but it was still big. And that's what he was supposed to bring down. He rolled his shoulders and gruntet, weighting the wooden spear in his hand as he slowly crept closer. The wind were a light breeze, making sure his scent wouldn't disturb the beast. It was all perfectly right, but he would need to get close to get a good throw in... He rose up, and roared at the top of his lungs, even the Elekks further away turning their heads towards him, but the nearby bull turned fully. The spear was already flying from his hand, whistling through the air and with a thump biting into the lower part of the large grey head, at the end of the trunk.

The Elekk gave a start, surprised that such a small creature would be so foolish to attack it, but when it screamed again, it started the charge towards the being having caused this annoying sting. It would be payed for with blood and gore. The small creature turned and ran towards the slope, foolish greenskin must have panicked. when it realised that it had only angered him. The chase continued up the hill, but when the Orc had reached about halfway up, something orange flickered and fell down on the ground.

Oguur was panting slightly from the dash, having turned around a short distance behind the line of fire forming between himself and the bull, who had slowed down on the other side of the flames, seemingly confused by the new obstacle between them. The fire started to grow, feeding of the grass, smoke drifting towards him in the wind. Letting out another fierce roar, he threw the second spear through the flames, ripping some of the skin from the Elekk as it bounced of the skull. The bull didn't hessitate and charged right through the flames. Making a quick dash himself, he ran as quickly as he could for the fire, counting on the flames and smoke blinding the bull long enough so that it wouldn't notice his move. He felt something rip against his shoulders, but didn't think more on it. Swift like the wind, and ran through the flames himself, feeling the heat beating against him briefly as he charged through, singeing the edge of his hair. As soon as he felt the cool brushing of the wind against his skin, he turned around quickly, one hand already reaching inside the shoulderbag, the fingers closing around one of the wet talbuk droppings. The bull hadn't been slow to notice that he wasn't on the other side, but it took a few moments before it spotted him through the dancing flames and the smoke stinging its eyes. He aimed for the blood seeping from the ripped skin on the forhead and threw the handful of shit against it, a few flames dancing briefly behind it as it flew over the fire before splattering between the eyes of the Elekk. It was charging now, towards the flames and him. Maybe he could have managed to dodge it again, but he held his ground, another projectile in his hand. When it had almost reached the fire, he let the soaked talbuk dropping fly, but he didn't aim for the Elekk this time.

A huge ball of fire rose from the burning grass, flames jumping through the air and igniting more grass where it landed, the wind spreading the fire against the screaming bull. It had turned from the flames only moments after the inferno had erupted infront of its eyes, the heat washing over its face, but it was already to late. The second ignition had happened as the ball of fire had closed in on the dripping mess that had splattered across the forhead of the Elekk, the flames searing skin boiling blood as the oils burned hot, leaving only a charred stub of the first spear and a completely blinded bull. The wind were picking up, quickly driving the flames up the slope and towards the bull just starting to recover from the first blast, the stink of smoke and burned flesh all around it. Instinctly cowering from the heat, it made a second charge towards the flames when it could see someting again, but the intense heat and flare of a new ball of fire made it turn away, the pain all to fresh in its memory. Everywhere it ran towards, the same thing kept happening, new balls of fire, quickly spreading fire, all pushing towards it. There was less room to run on, and soon there was only a wall of flames on one side, and the air behind it. Another ball of fire erupted close to it, and as it reared up to get away from the flames, one of the feet slipped and it plunged down the cliff.

Oguur quickly dropped the bag and ran through the burnt grass down the slope as the grey shape had tumbled down on the other side of the flames dancing in the wind, but he still heard the loud thump and scream as something snapped. He picked up the pickaxe almost without stopping, and ran along the bottom of the cliff. There was something stinging his shoulder, but he didn't notice the blood seeping down his arm. At the bottom of the cliff, the Elekk was panting, struggling to rise, one of the front legs having shattered. It barely seemed to notice him as he ran up towards it, making a leap with one foot against one of the tusks, and grabbing one of the horns to swing up on the skull of the bull. A brief jolt of pain went through his shoulder, but it was soon forgotten as he stood on the moving head of the Elekk, the flames crackling over him as and danced over the edge, and the wind brushing around them both, snaking around the cliffside, spreading a scent of fresh grass to the bull, but itself oozed of smoke and blood and burned flesh.

The bull tried to rise, but once again fell down, lying down on its stomach, panting with watering eyes from all the smoke the wind had taken to it. There was a brief tension comming from the body as the mining pick plunged into the eye, but with the fluid seeking out of it, so did its life, he didn't even have to strike twice. He let the pickaxe remain as he rose up and let out a gutural roar, standing on the corpse with the winds dancing around him. His body was tingling as he closed his eyes. It was easy to focus on the winds blowing in his mind as he thanked the spirits for lending their aid.