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Post by Deleted on Dec 21, 2013 1:58:46 GMT -6
Gil clicked his beak a few times, talking was rather difficult with a curved beak and a strangely shaped tongue. "When I said You, I meant we. In that sense I meant, Climb on!" He chuckled, chest feathers puffing up and fluffing. "I'm pretty sure these Wings can hold you up, even if it's just to get beyond the gate." He laid down on his stomach and flicked his tail a few times. He seemed at ease, or at least level headed enough to know what he was doing. They were walking right into Enemy territory, and he showed no sign of fear. This could have been bravery, but more likely to be Foolishness.
He spread his silvery wings and waited for Lukis.
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Post by Lukis "Drunkard" Vinterheim on Dec 21, 2013 22:06:44 GMT -6
Lukis let out a sigh of relief as Gil invited him onto his back. However, he did expect his weighted body and wool long coat might get in the way of his comrade's flying. It didn't matter, especially since Gil was trusting enough to let him on his back, and they were so close to finding and rescuing Thok from the Fire Giants.
"Once we're inside, you do know there's only a very good chance we won't get out? Just a general...y'know, warning, alright?" He cried to Gil.
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Post by Rorik Nor'Gunstradt on Dec 23, 2013 13:34:26 GMT -6
Flames danced around him as Lord Rorik of Fort Gunstradt sat upon his throne, proudly wearing upon his forehead an elegant crested crown, holding at his side a large and powerful warhammer. The thumping footsteps of his lesser Fire Giant minions meant nothing to him until one ran up to him, waving his arms urgently.
"My lord! My lord!" He wailed urgently as he skidded to a stop at his lord's feet. Rorik grunted impatiently and looked down on his lackey. "What is it, fool? You dare disturb me?" He roared, the flames in his throat nearly spitting out all over the floor. The minion shook his head shamefully. "My lord, there seems to be something prepared to fly over the walls! It appears to be a griffon, and upon the back of the griffon is that blasphemous trickster Lokis, the Winter-Home!" Rorik's eyes widened at the name Lokis: the man had explored his fortress once with a mangy pup he called Ice-Tooth, or Thok as the Nords said. He'd stolen almost all of their alcohol, and before they'd even gotten the chance to fight and kill him, Lokis himself had transformed into a Fire Giant and battled with them. Were it not for their sheer numbers, he could have easily have vanquished Rorik's lackeys. However, Ice-Tooth was now a trophy for the Fire Giant lord, as well as a bargaining tool, and now that he knew what Lokis the Winter-Home could do, he was ready to fight the madman himself, especially with his trusted hammer Vjinjiolforn, or Sky-Crusher, to aid him.
Rorik stood up angrily and shoved past his lackey and over to a few other Fire Giant warriors. "Shoot them down, with flames preferably. I want to see that trickster of a Nord on my dinner plate!" He screamed.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 23, 2013 15:09:23 GMT -6
The Griffon judged the weight on his back, shifting his shoulders and flexing the wing muscles. "I've never done this before. So I'm guessing yes, The Chances of Survival are thin." He dug his talons and claws into the ground, "Hold on." he warned him needlessly. Getting to a good start he bounded away from the gate, picking up speed the wings open and lifted each bound off the haunches. The Griffon began to rise, still running through the air, until the warm wind current over the deadlands carried them into the sky.
Gil grunted, "You're a bit heavy." He huffed "Is that all Muscle? Or Beer!?" He allowed the currents to bend and shape his wing, the flight feathers feeling the sky like fingertips through the sand and minerals he knew so well. Curving the edge of his wings they began to swoop back toward the gate. Straining his wings they skimmed over the top of the gate, the Heat from the Fortress threatening to send them even higher, over the Fortress itself.
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Post by Lukis "Drunkard" Vinterheim on Dec 24, 2013 15:23:10 GMT -6
Lukis snickered at the griffon's comment and shuffled his body slightly, as if he were trying to make the griffon more comfortable. "We Nords tend to have massive bone structure, and lots of muscle. Add that to the fact that I also have all that Fire Giant scrunched up inside me, and the beer I've been drinking, and I'm probably a bit heavy. Sorry, funny skin-changing guy." Lukis swallowed hard: Gil was right in his earlier statement about their chances of survival. Last time he was there, he'd managed to transform into a Fire Giant nonetheless and still get his butt whooped by an army of them. Odin knew what their chance of survival together was, especially if the Fire Giants now had his dog and maybe knew they were coming.
Lukis brushed his bangs from his eyes and looked down over the dirt ground rushing underneath them like a river. The skies above him, although dusty and black, seemed quite beautiful from this height, and the imposing gates that Lukis feared the height of seemed like mere children's toys as they flew over them. These weren't so big when I was a Fire Giant. Suddenly, a memory popped into Lukis' mind.
"Gil!" He yelled over the howling winds. "Gil! The fortress is cursed, or enchanted, or something along those squiggles! I didn't get turned into a Fire Giant by the Giants themselves, but by the Fortress! We have to be careful when we land!" No wonder the Fire Giants of this Fortress kept calling him 'Lokis' by accident; when he'd said his name was Lukis, they must have taken it as Loki, the Nordic God of Mischief, especially with what he'd pulled off. "Oh no..." Lukis mumbled to himself as he dug his face shamefully into Gil's feathered back.
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