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nathan-york-blog1 · 7 years ago

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Conquering the Beast

They had brought the beast in in the middle of the night. It had taken two groups of marines to track and capture it, and the monster had taken ripped through half that number before they had finally managed to subdue it by some miracle. This was not some mere wild beast that was terrorizing the countryside of Gilneas, murdering livestock and unfortunate travelers - no, this was a Worgen. Male. Massive. Monstrous. A true alpha among runts. The marines had found him near Stormglen, running with a pack of his own at his back, just after the Cataclysm had struck Gilneas and her people were preparing to flee the invading Forsaken. The marines had made quick work of the pack - their orders didn’t include saving any others besides the one. Once they had subdued the alpha they restrained him in every way they could think of in the event that the beast awoke before they arrived at their destination.

The Worgen awoke on a cold, wooden floor. His whole body ached from the encounter with the marines that lead to his capture, however long ago that may have been for him - time passed differently for the beast. Eyes darted open to look around at a dimly lit room. It was mostly empty aside from the occasional barrel and crate stacked against the wall...yet something about this room seemed familiar to the beast. Ears flicked at sounds coming from outside of the room...Waves...Gulls...The rocking sensation that the Worgen felt beneath his feat, combined with this familiar room and those familiar sounds gave the beast a sense that he...had been here before...

“Yer finally awake.”

Ears twitched, his mouth turned to a snarl and a growl escaped him. The Worgen’s eyes darted around the room to find the source of the voice. In a dark corner he saw it - the shape of something massive, and mobile. The figure rose up from what must have been a chair and stepped into the light, revealing itself to be another male worgen - much larger than himself, who was already a monster to behold. This alpha also bore a striking resemblance to himself, although this one’s fur was greying quite a bit from the jet-black fur that he had boasted. The younger alpha roared and snapped, trying to lunge at the older one but to no avail - he now realized the predicament he was in. His head and arms were locked in place, and he was unable to move no matter how hard he tried. He was locked in a gibbet. He struggled to free himself but to no avail. The older Worgen huffed. “Damnit boy if ye tear a hole in me ship I’ll tear a hole in yer hide.” He laughed, then stepped closer to the snapping Worgen. “Yer a fiesty one, ain’t ye? Me lads told me that ye took down a good chunk of ‘em...They were good men...some of the best Gilneas had to offer.” He looked down at the struggling alpha, giving him a cold stare for a long moment before laughing once more. “But that’s me grandson fer ye!” The young beast roared in pure rage at the grey wolf, who stood undeterred. “Anyway, Nate...I obviously can’t just let ye keep roamin’ around like this...Not only are ye a danger to everyone everywhere in yer current state, but we need ye back in the navy. Hopefully yer time in jail after runnin’ off with those Northgate hooligans has done ye some good...” The grey wolf cracked his neck and his knuckles, looking down at the restrained and raging beast with a grin. “Now, I bet yer tough enough to get yerself under control ..Ye’ve always been a strong-willed little shit. All ye need is time, space...and motivation. A little tough love oughtta do the trick.” And suddenly the old wolf dashed right over to the snapping beast. Towering right above the trapped Worgen, he brought a furred hand down on the gibbet and chopped the top in half, sending splinters in all directions. The hand was so powerful that it went all the way down onto Nate’s neck, pushing the beast down hard onto the gibbet and knocking the wind out of him for the briefest of moments. But the fury within the young alpha was too great to be contained by such a simple attack - once he regained his breath he leapt towards the larger, older alpha at lightning speed with the full intent of rending him to pieces. The old alpha did not back down, however. He did not flee. He showed no fear. He matched the younger alpha’s speed, dodging incoming claws, and launched his own clawed hand right for the beast’s throat. Gripping tightly, he sent the black furred beast down to the ground. A yelp escaped the young alpha as the floorboards beneath him cracked under the impact. Nate snarled and roared, reaching claws up to thrash and tear at his grandfather who gave him a sense of familiarity but overall he didn’t recognize. The old wolf took quite a few scratches and gashes, but was undeterred and held his grip on the beast. He curled his free hand into a fist and punched the young alpha right across the snout. “Lay down, ye little bastard!” The beast let out another loud yelp, continuing to thrash but being weakened at the sudden blow. And the old wolf did not stop there - he continued his to beat the wolf ruthlessly, his blows absolutely relentless. Nate yelped snarled after each blow, trying to fight back. Eventually however the blows became too much. The young alpha was reduced to a whimpering pup beneath the older, stronger alpha’s relentless beating. In his current state Nate certainly did not hold anything back - he genuinely did try to murder his grandfather, even with the slightest hint of familiarity inside of him. The old wolf was simply that much stronger than him. Beaten, bloodied, and broken, the beast lay there - many of his bones having been broken, thus making it impossible for him to move even if he wanted to at this point. The old wolf panted heavily. It had taken longer than he had anticipated to subdue the beast, but he should’ve expected that from his grandson. He released the Worgen’s throat and rose to his feet. He had no reason to restrain him now - he was broken, for now. “We’ll be keepin’ this up until ye get full control again...Don’t worry, lad. Ye’ll be back to yer old self in no time. And ye’ll be better...stronger, than ye’ve ever been before.” The old grey wolf returned to his chair in the darkened corner of the room and grabbed a bottle of rum that he left on the floor, uncapping it and taking a long gulp. He sighed. “Damnit all...” The beast continued to lay there, whimpering in pain throughout the night. That was not the only beating the beast received. Every day he got back up and tried to tear the old wolf to shreds, and every day the old wolf beat him into submission. Nate’s body had healed remarkably well, even for a Worgen, which just meant that his grandfather didn’t have to hold anything back in his assaults. One day, as The young alpha lay whimpering after another beating, he fell unconscious from loss of blood. In this unconscious state, he dreamt...He awoke as a human in a dark room. There was nothing but an ominous blackness surrounding him. “Where the hell am I?” He said to himself. A growl responded from the darkness. The man turned towards the sound...At first, he saw nothing. After a moment that growl’s source showed itself - the great, black furred monster of a worgen that he had become. Fangs bared, the beast circled Nate. “So yer the shit that’s been rampagin’ around in me body...Well, whatever me body is now.” The man should’ve been shaking where he stood. He should’ve been terrified at the sight of this massive beast circling him, ready to attack...but he wasn’t. He stood his ground, and gave the wolf a challenging stare and a grin. “Well, I think I’ve had enough of that, and I’ll be takin’ me body back now.” The beast reared itself and let out a fierce roar at the man, who stood undeterred and stalwart in the face of death. Nate cracked his knuckles and lunged forward - he would be the one to make the first move. However, the beast was far too quick, and soon the man found himself pinned to the ground with fangs tearing into his throat and claws digging into his torso. Damnit... He thought as his body was being torn to shreds. Is this how it ends? Losin’ meself to this beast? Am I not strong enough to take back me own damn body? In one final act of desperation, the man launched a fist up at the monster’s temple. To his surprise, this not only got the beast to stop ripping into him, but it sent the beast flying off of him a few feet. Nate lay there, huffing...grinning. Realization came to him. I ain’t feelin’ any pain...The thing damn near tore me to pieces and I don’t feel a bit of it. He rose to his feet and looked to the beast, who had gotten back to his feet and crouched into a position where it could pounce on him, growling. In this world of dreams, this battle would not be one of physical strength as it appeared, but one of wills. And Nate had a powerful will. The man approached the wolf, who in turn leapt at him. This time, however, the beast was met with a fist to the snout, which sent it flying once more. The alpha whimpered on the ground, trying to compose itself before it found a hand grasping its furred throat. “Yer in -my- mind, runt.” Another fist connected with the monster, who now yelped in pain. “I don’t share me body with anyone...Whatever curse put us together, I suppose it means yer here t’stay.” Another punch, another yelp. “What’s yers is mine. Yer strength...yer speed...All of it.” One last fist, and the beast collapsed into a whimpering mess on the floor, broken. The man planted a foot on its chest and pressed down hard, causing it to yelp and whimper harder. “My body, my rules. Ye’ll submit to me, and behave like a good pup.” The beast responded with a whimper of defeat, offering its total submission. Nate had conquered the monster that had taken his body for itself, and now its power was his to command. As this happened the dream around the two of them seemed to collapse. The alpha awoke on the ship once more on the hard wooden floor of the ship, gasping for breath.

“Damnit...this hurts...”

The voice came from the young beast, who had been beaten into submission for the past several days. He clutched at his sides in pain, although that certainly wasn’t the only part of him that hurt. He looked around the room. The cargo hold of his grandfather’s ship.

“So, ye finally did it.”

The black furred Worgen’s ear’s flicked at hearing the voice, looking up to see the old Worgen in the room with him. “Old man...is that you? Ye turned into a beast as well?” He coughed a bit. The old wolf laughed. “Aye...this whole mess got all of us. Took ye a bit longer than I did to get yerself under control, but ye did it.” He nodded. Nate tried to get up, but his injuries were so severe he couldn’t even sit himself up. “Agh...damn...and who roughed me up like this? I’d like t’meet the beast that could take a ragin’ monster down like this.” The old wolf laughed again. “That was me!” Nate looked up at the grey furred Worgen and shook his head, sighing.

“’Course it was...ye old bastard.”

#wolfram #Mac's July Challenge

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nathan-york-blog1 · 7 years ago

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Nathan’s Tales from the Sea - The Ghost Ship

The large worgen male sat at the head of the table, pouring himself a shot of rum. It was a typical night in the tavern - just a few voices of some of the Wolfram members chattering away in the dimly lit bar room. Nate banged a fist on the table to get everyone’s attention. “Gather ‘round, lads an’ lasses, an’ let ol’ Nate tell ye another story from me time plunderin’ on the high seas.” He gulped down the shot of rum and grinned, reaching down below the table to his belt. The hand returned holding up a chain that had attached to it a six-sided die with strange symbols engraved on each side. “This is a memento from the time me an’ the crew of the Bloody Whore encountered a ghost ship...” ————————————————————————----------------------------------- “~Haul on the bowline, homeward we are going~” “~Haul on the bowlin’, the bowlin’ haul!~” “~Haul on the bowline, before she start a-rolling~” “~Haul on the bowlin’, the bowlin’ haul!~” “-Haul on the bowline, the captain is a-growling~” “~Haul on the bowlin’, the bowlin’ haul!~” “~Haul on the bowline, so early in the morning~” “~Haul on the bowlin’, the bowlin’ haul!~” “~Haul on the bowline, to Ratchet we are going~” “~Haul on the bowlin’, the bowlin’ haul!~” “~Haul on the bowline, Kitty is my darling~” “~Haul on the bowlin’, the bowlin’ haul!~” “~Haul on the bowline, Kitty comes from Booty Bay~” “~Haul on the bowlin’, the bowlin’ haul!~” “~Haul on the bowline, it’s far cry to pay day~” “~Haul on the bowlin’, the bowlin’ haul!~” The shanty rang out over the open sea throughout the morning as the crew of the Bloody Whore rose from their slumber and tended to the day’s duties. The ship herself was an impressive sight - a large three-masted frigate that was nearly a quarter of a mile in length and housed three decks. Her arsenal boasted a total of fourty broadside cannons, four cannons on the bow that fired chain shots to ensnare fleeing ships, eight harpoon guns and eight swivel guns lined all along the upper deck, a large ram that jutted out from the lower part of the bow, and two massive mortar cannons for barraging long-range targets. The sails and flags of the ship, as well as the clothing of her crew bore the crimson colors of the Bloodsail pirate fleet. “What are we out here to do, lads?” A voice rang out on the deck. It was that of Finn Hornigold, the captain of the Bloody Whore. He was a tall, imposing human male who wore the typical attire of a pirate captain - a long red coat with a black tricorb hat had a Jolly Roger emblazoned on the front. The captain carried two steel cutlasses and two holstered pistols at his belt. Upon hearing the question, most of the crew unsheathed their weapons and raised them to the air. “To plunder fame and wealth!” “And who do you plunder for?” “No one but ourselves!” The captain gave his crew a grin, nodding. “Mister York, what is our heading today?” The helmsman today was none other than Nathan York, the rowdy worgen swashbuckler everyone had come to love. He was also the first mate of the Bloody Whore, and the crew had come to love and respect him as much as Captain Hornigold himself. The worgen gave a grin. “Perfect westward wind today, captain. I got a good feelin’ we’ll find somethin’ good today.” Hornigold nodded. “Let’s hope that’s not just that bottomless pit of a stomach you have hoping we fish up a whale today, Nate.” Hornigold, Nate, and everyone else burst into laughter. Suddenly a voice shouted down from the crow’s nest. “Fog rollin’ in, Captain! Port side! Looks like a thick one!” The laughter quickly died down as the crew turned towards the south where the fog was rolling in. Most of the crew didn't think much of it, but the captain squinted his eyes and frowned at the sight of the fog. "Nate, what do you make of that?" The worgen at the helm looked towards the fog, a puzzled look on his face. "Just fog, captain. Ain't nothing we haven't dealt with b'fore." The captain gave a nod towards the fog. "Look closer - do you see it? The fog's coming straight at us - from the south. But the wind's blowing straight from the west. Now I don't claim to be an expert navigator or a weatherman, but does that make much sense to you?" After a moment of gazing, Nathan frowned. "No, captain, it don't make much sense to me at all. What're yer orders? Shall I make a hard turn t'starboard and try to avoid it?" Hornigold stood there silently a moment, before a sly grin spread across his lips. "No, Mister York. I want you to make a hard turn to port and sail us right into that mist." The captain turned to the rest of his crew and bellowed out to them. "What do ye say, lads? Shall we see what fate has in store fer us in that fog? Could be untold treasures just waiting to be plundered. Or we could be sailing into the jaws of hell itself." It was an easy choice for the crew of the Bloody Whore. They all raised their voices and chanted in unison: "Aye aye, captain!" With a smile on his face, Nate gave the wheel of the frigate a hard turn and the ship made its way straight into the fog. The fog was thick indeed. When the ship was enveloped by the grey mist, not a crewman on the ship could see beyond a few feet past the ship's hull. "Raise up our sails, Mister York. Seems the wind has died down a bit and we don't want to go too fast in here anyway. Can't see rocks and the like that we could easily ram into." Nate nodded from behind the wheel. "Aye aye, captain. Raise the sails, you lot! Get those masts bare!" On this command, the crew raised all of the frigate's square sails up, bringing whatever speed the ship may have had before down to a minimum cruise. All was relatively quiet - the waters were still, the winds almost completely absent, and the crew chatter minimal. This went on for nearly half an hour, and it seemed like this voyage into the fog would yield no adventure... And suddenly, a piercing wail echoed throughout the waters around them. Then another. A chorus of wails and moans would shake the hearts of the crew of the Bloody Whore. The crew readied their weapons and looked around in all directions, but they could not see where the noises were coming from. Just as suddenly as the chorus began, it stopped. The crew continued to search for the source, but now all they could hear was an ominous creaking noise akin to that of a ship, but that did not belong to their own. The sound got louder and louder, and as it did a shadow loomed over the frigate. The crew turned to see a wonderous and horrifying sight - a massive galleon. The galleon's sails were heavily worn and tattered, and the hull had so many holes in it that it was a miracle she could float at all. On the deck of the galleon the pirates saw the source of the wailing chorus they heard before - shambling corpses, covered with rags and rotting flesh, and phantasmal specters roamed the deck. The pirates simply stared at this sight in silence a moment, unable to comprehend what was before them. Finally, they heard their captain's voice shout out at them. "What are you waiting for, you louts? Man the cannons and harpoons and sink that damned thing! I don't care if the devil himself is captaining that ship!" The crew stirred from their dazed state and let out a cry of battle, each of them getting to their assigned battle station. In just a few short moments the air was filled with cannon smoke harpoon ropes. More and more holes were punctured through the hull of the galleon, and it seemed like she was taking in amounts of water that would sink any ship of her size...but something was keeping her afloat. "Stop!" Captain Hornigold's voice rang out as it was clear the cannonfire was ineffective. Just like that, all fire ceased and a brief moment of silence ensued. But brief the silence was, as the wailing and moaning of the undead on the galleon's deck resumed once more. As the chorus resumed, the skeletons and wraiths charged from the deck of the ghost ship and onto the deck of the Bloody Whore. The pirates unsheathed their weapons and defended themselves against the undead invaders. The skeletons were rather easy to strike down, as they charged straight for the sailors and didn't seem to have an obvious motive other than to kill the pirates. The wraiths were a different matter, however. It seemed that the pirates' weapons were ineffective against the specters' forms, and what's more, it soon became clear what the undead were after. One of the wraiths flew towards one of the crewmen of the Whore and picked him up right off of the deck and flew right off of the ship and hovered over the sea. The ghost then dropped the screaming man into the waters below. Normally, all of the sailors on the Bloody Whore were excellent swimmers, yet something was very wrong here, and the poor soul that was dropped into the water struggled to stay above water before he sank below the surface like a rock. Moments later, a new skeleton arose from the spot where the man sank and made its way towards the Bloody Whore, climbing up the hull and joining the battle on the deck. Captain Horngold watched this happened and sneered. "Watch out, lads! Avoid those ghosts like they're the plague! Nate!" He shouted to the worgen who was fighting off a few skeletons with his cutlasses. "Take a few men and get your ass on that galleon! There has to be something there that's keeping these ghosts here and that ship afloat! Find it, salt it, destroy it, I don't know. Just do whatever you can to save this ship! I'll stay here and fight 'em off as long as I can - you know the rule: The captain goes down with the ship." Nate had just decapitated one skeleton and cleaved in two another one. He turned to face his captain and gave a solemn nod. "Aye aye, captain." He turned to a few nearby crewmates. "You lot, with me! We're goin' over t'that ghost ship and sendin' these souls back to hell! Bring some salt, and let's hope those old tales about salt repellin' the dead are true!" One of the crewmen, the chef Jacques, whom the crew called "Pantsless Jack", nodded and swiftly ran down to the galley and returned with a small sack of salt. When the boarding party was ready, they all launched their grappling hooks and swung to the ghost ship awaiting them. Fortunately for the boarding party, there was little resistance on the deck of the galleon. A few skeletons here and there. The wraiths were all on the Bloody Whore. Nate looked back to his ship to see that several more crewmen had met the same fate as the one before - drowned and turned into skeletons. He and the rest of the boarding party moved along the deck, cutting their way through the skeletons that stood in their path. They made their way to a set of doors that led to a room underneath the poopdeck. When they barged into the room their eyes widened at the sight - piles of treasure were scattered all around the room. Not only treasure, but other strange artifacts as well. It seems they had found the ship's treasure hoard. Nate nodded to the boarding party. "Well, if there were somethin' that'd be keepin' a bunch of undead alive an' a ghost ship afloat, I'd wager it'd be here. I s'pose we just start saltin' some of this stuff 'till we start to feel ourselves sinkin'?" They shrugged, then Jack stepped forward. "I guess so. Here." He opened up the sack of salt. "Everyone take a handful and look around. Anything that looks...ghost-y, salt it." Each of the crewmen held out their hand and took a pile of salt, then scattered throughout the room to inspect the artifacts lying around. While they were looking, each scallywag took the opportunity to pocket some of the treasure for themselves. As they searched, Nate's eye caught one item in particular. He knelt down and picked up off the ground a strange looking cube. It appeared to be a six-sided playing die, but it had strange symbols carved on each side that he had never seen before. He took the salt in his hand and rubbed the die in it. Nothing. He decided to pocket the die for now, it was a curious thing. Suddenly he heard a voice call out. "Nate, come look at this." The worgen stood up and walked over to where the voice came from. It was jack who called him. The man pointed to where he was looking, and Nate followed his gaze. What he saw took him by surprise. It was a set of black sabers, each one having a skull at the hilt. An invisible, yet ominous aura was emanating from the blades. Nate nodded. "Aye...I'll bet this week's rations of rum that's what's causin' all of this." He stepped forwards towards the blades, kneeling before them. Taking the salt in hand, he sprinkled it along both of the blades. A rumbling would be felt throughout the room, and it felt like the entire ship was about to be torn apart. It seemed this crazy idea had worked after all. "Well, lads, seems this ship is about t'sink. Grab what treasure ye can and run like hell back to the Whore!" Boards were falling from the ceiling, and pieces of the floor were collapsing as well. Violent creaking noises could be heard all around them. The boarding party scooped up what little treasure they could and rushed out the door of the treasure hoard. Nate took the opportunity to grab the swords, tucking them under his arm and making sure they had ample salt along their blades. He also made sure the die he had found earlier was tucked away in his pocket. He had also managed to steal away a few pocketfulls of gold and jewels himself. As the boarding party made it outside, the magnitude of what was happening was now apparent to them. The entire galleon was split down the center of the hull, both halves beginning to sink into the sea. They looked to the frigate that was waiting for them and saw that all of the skeletons had collapsed into bones and the wraiths had disappeared from existence. Wasting no time, the boarding party made a mad dash across the deck of the sinking galleon, tossing their grappling hooks over to the Bloody Whore and swinging themselves over to the other side. They all landed with a thud, each of them dropping the treasure that they had brought with them. The crew of the Whore let out a cheer of victory for their returning comrades. Captain Hornigold walked up to the boarding party, a grin on his face at the sight of the treasure they brought with them. "You lot look like you've done well for yourselves. Tell me, Nate: What happened over there?" Nate took a moment to catch his breath before rising to his feet, holding out the two black sabers to the captain. "The cause of our ghost ship problem, captain. Found 'em in one of the biggest treasure hoards I ever saw. Salted 'em good and I guess that's all she wrote on the matter. How many did we lose?" "Too many." The captain said with a shake of his head. He looked around at the bones that littered the deck of the frigate. Slowly, the thick fog that surrounded them began to clear up, and the high noon sun shone brightly above them after a few moments. "Get this deck cleaned up, you lot. And prepare a memorial for the fallen." The captain shouted to the crew, who shouted back in return. "Aye aye, sir!" Hornigold looked down at the swords Nate had presented to him. "These are some damn dangerous blades. Wish I could use 'em myself, but I won't be putting my crew at risk." He nodded. "I'll lock them up good." Nate gave the captain a nod. "Aye, sounds like the smart thing to do, captain." Hornigold then turned to the worgen, giving him a smirk. "And what the hell are you still doing standing around, Nate? You're still on helmsman duty for the day. Get your ass back behind the wheel and resume our course." Nate let out a boisterous laugh and nodded. "Aye aye, sir." The worgen walked back up towards the ship's wheel. As he did so, he took out the die he found in the ghost ship's treasure hoard and looked at it again, turning it around in his hand. Was this just a simple playing die that got tossed into the treasure hoard for some reason? Or was it something more? He shrugged and put it back into his pocket as he finally found his way back behind the wheel. Gripping it tightly with both hands, he shouted out to the crew. "Give me full sail, ye scallywags! I want everything she's got!" -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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