Wulf the Eternal Warrior

Wulf and his band of warriors had been gone for a couple of hours, scouting the pilgrims’ new land. Jamba had been left in charge, and he was overseeing the construction of huts, and the organization of what was to be a semi-permanent type of village, until the new settlers could determine upon a permanent location. Spirits were incredibly high among this group of soldiers and ex-slaves, and singing, laughing, and even some dancing occurred as they worked for the first time as free men and women.

The little girl Abena had stolen off behind a tree, away from the rest. She wanted to admire her new treasure, the black stone, without interference. Already to her it seemed precious, and it actually seemed to call to her not to divulge what she had found. She produced it from her girdle, and caressed the shiny, smooth ebon stone lovingly. And the stone called to her, so the girl walked like an automaton, slowly, towards the center of the camp. Placing the stone beneath the seat Wulf used before the campfire, Abena then walked away, like one in a dream. No one noticed her.

The hunting band was camped by the waterway, which widened into a small lake. Wulf had remembered well; this spot was an ideal place on which to found the pilgrims’ new land. There was a freshet of water that gushed noisily out of a spring nearby, with water both pure and sweet. A wide swath of level ground surrounded the lake, with scattered copses of trees amongst which herds of wild aurochs roamed, eating the fresh grass and fronds. Wulf sent his warriors inland further, into the thick woods to hunt for meat, and also to explore. He meant to plan a rustic village for his followers, and then to say his farewells. Not one for settling was the barbarian, who had a roving foot. ‘Enough of this jungle life,’ he thought, ‘I am ready for more rigorous climes, where gold is more easily acquired, and slavery is not even an idea!’ But he would settle these people first, and then be off. The barbarian was never one to leave a job half done.

He heard a scream, and then several- his men! Galvanized, he leapt up and ran towards the sounds, which now included strange high pitched screams of rage along with the deeper bellows of his swordsmen. After less than a mile, he came upon a scene of nightmare and lunacy.

Of the ten men he had led on this hunting foray, only two were still standing. Ebon giants, the two stood with upraised swords in one hand, and spears in the other. Above them, darkening the sky with their numbers were giant bats, perhaps 6 feet across. They swooped down at the men, and then Wulf could make out that upon the back of each bat was a nightmarish rider, a small little apish creature, maybe three feet in height. Like a squat monkey, except almost more like a little man, a pygmy, or at least what would one day evolve over thousands of years into a pygmy human! The pigmy monkey creatures controlled the bats, much as a man would a horse, and led them with their knees and small hands to swoop and dive as they wished. And each monkey-thing carried in it’s hand a small tube…

Just then, one of Wulf’s men, the huge warrior Bamos, hurled his spear at one of the bats. Struck, the bat fell, utterly silently, as the monkey creature screamed in a high pitch of rage. As it fell, it put the tube it carried to its mouth, and blew towards Bamos. An instant later, Bamos’s large figure crumpled, instantly falling in death.

Wulf arrived at that instant, upon the death of his follower, and bellowed in rage. As the monkey thing fell towards him, screaming still in rage, it put the tube again to its lips. But before it could again expel death from that tube, the barbarian hacked it asunder with his sword in mid-air, one half going one way, the rest another. Snarling in satisfaction, Wulf nevertheless knew that his victory was short lived. Literally dozens of the monkey creatures, each astride a giant bat, were winging overhead in a huge swarm from hell. And now they were all screaming!

Beckoning to his one remaining warrior, a man named Oyibo, the two set off on a dead run away from the swarm. It was almost a mile back to camp, but as most of it ran through thick woods, the monkey creatures on their flying bats would be hampered in attacking. Even as he ran, Wulf thought to himself that it was not just the high cliffs that had kept this land inviolate for so long- it was these monkey things! Half man and half monkey, they appeared to be able to think, and plan- even husband their strange steeds of bats- and could even master tools like the tubes that blew death! How to stop them, that was the question.

Meanwhile, back at the camp, festivities were in full flow. The campfire was blazing, meat was grilling, and all was hopeful. As the tribe of pilgrims sang and worked, joyful in their new land- evil was listening, watching, aye, and preparing to intervene! The black stone was the property of Harun, sorceress and witch of Zembabwei, and she decided the time was right to take her revenge. She could see through the stone that there was no Wulf there now; so if she cowed the rest, the barbarian would be no great adversary alone.

In a hissing of black smoke, which billowed out from under Wulf’s chair by the fire, a cloud of enshrouding blackness erupted, obscuring the fire, and enveloping the tribespeople. They cowered, crouching in awe to the unknown, with only the 10 or so soldiers remaining standing upright with weapons raised, defiant. In a blaze of greenish light, suddenly there stood in their midst the awful form of Harun.

Beautiful, evil Harun- her straight, jet-black hair hung down from her snow white features, her aquiline nose and regal features alien to the land of the Nubians. Green eyes like the emeralds owned by demons, lit with motes of bright yellow, were surrounded by her flowing garments, which were the only things truly Nubian about her. For she was a Kemite, transplanted eons ago as a ruler of blacks in an alien land.

Raising her arms, in one of which was a staff of ebony in the shape of Kos, the Serpent worshipped in night-haunted Kemet, she screamed in malicious delight. “OOOHLOSO SET A MA LUNA!” And she struck her staff on the ground.

At once, the scene went silent, a tableau without sound. No more singing, no sounds of a happy campfire- nothing. Even the people all held their breaths, in anxiety and dread. There was only the witch, Harun, limned in a light of lambent green, her unearthly beauty mocking all before her… and a faint clambering. As the sound came closer, it seemed louder, and louder, and larger!

A pronounced shaking occurred amongst the branches of the surrounding jungle at the edge of the clearing. Then, the fronds parted violently, and a hideous face shot into view, a reptilian visage of dripping fangs, huge claws and small red eyes. The thing proceeded into the clearing, long tail lashing behind it, crushing the smaller trees in its way.

It scuttled along on four legs, with a long scaly tail whipping behind it. Sharp spines stuck up on its back, and also on the end of its whipping tail. Two soldiers ran up towards the creature, although their superstitious dread of the thing was awful. Holding their spears out before them, and grasping their swords in muscular hands, they jabbed at the creature with their spear points. With an awful roar, the creature bit off the heads of the spears, crushing the wooden shafts like matchwood. Then, as the men attacked with their swords, the monster whipped around its tail, smashing into the men at about chest height.

It was hard for those watching, the other soldiers and pilgrims, to believe the complete red ruin that was done to those men in the flick of that massive spiked tail- not only were they instantly killed, they were smashed to such a mess of splattered organs, limbs, and scattered body parts as to instantly question whether there were really men there a moment before or not! The destruction was so complete and awful, that several of the viewers retched uncontrollably, while others fell to the earth, biting the dust in a frenzy of horror and fear.

And over all rang the shrieking laughter of Harun, pounding her heavy serpent staff on the ground, and screaming like a banshee in an ecstasy of blood letting. The creature lumbered around to face the rest of the pilgrims, who drew back screaming in terror from this reptilian face from hell. And it attacked again, quickly in spite of its vast bulk, and only Jamba stood before it, holding a shield in one hand, and a sword in the other. A full coat of mail covered his torso, and an iron helmet encased his head. He stabbed forward, lunging forth with all of his power, and his sword pierced into the throat of the monster, who screamed in rage. Turning rapidly, the creature spun its tail towards Jamba, and lashed out with it quickly.

Jamba leaped upwards, and the tail whipped beneath him! At the same time, he lashed down again with his sword, slicing half- way through that huge tail. Black blood spurted forth, and Jamba grimaced with satisfaction. He drew back his sword for another stroke, and a sudden burst of yellow light shot out from the staff of Harun the witch- the beam struck the warrior full in the breast, and he instantly froze, and then fell forward like a toppled tree, to lie still on the earth. He had been instantly turned to stone, his mighty limbs were frozen forever into the form and substance of a statue! The witch shrieked in triumph, and the monster bellowed again, as it turned towards the remaining pilgrims.

At that moment, Wulf hurtled onto the scene. Sprinting with sword ready, right behind him were dozens of the flying monkeys on their bats! Coming into the clearing, the enraged monkey creatures started blowing into their tubes of death at random, intent on dealing death to these invaders of their homeland. Not for ages had they had to repel invaders, since each time interlopers had come to their valley they had instantly exterminated them, leaving none to even carry the tale hence. And now, there were not only the hated humans, but also a strange monster and a witch- they knew only to kill them all!

Harun was shocked, which is a hard thing to do to a witch! But, without missing a beat, she began shooting beams of golden yellow towards the strange attackers, knowing only that they were in her way. Each time her yellow beam encountered a bat-rider, both bat and rider would freeze, and fall to the earth- as stone! But their uncanny little blowguns, laced with some potent poison, were not only getting very close to her, they were also thudding into the flesh of her reptilian servant. At first there was no discernible effect, but then the huge monster began to gradually start to… slow down.

It had lost blood to Jamba’s shrewd sword cuts, and now the poison was spreading throughout its huge body. But Harun had dealt huge carnage to the monkey men- dozens of stone figures littered the earth, and not one poison blowgun dart had managed to strike the witch. There were already very few of the monkey men left, and it was apparent to Wulf that these were probably all that was left of their race, come out en masse to defend their homeland. They had always been able to take care of human invaders; this witch was outside of their semi-bestial coping skills.

But, to the enraged Germanian, seeing the carnage that Harun had wrought amongst the people he led, she was not outside of his skill set!

Without halting for an instant, he ran at the witch as at the target of his ultimate hatred. His blood was up, and his enemy was before him: what more could a barbarian desire?

So caught up with her evil destruction of a nearly extinct race was the witch, shooting forth the blinding golden beams that turned them to stone, that she scarcely noticed the hurtling barbarian that had entered the scene. When she did, it was almost too late! Such was Wulf’s speed in his entrance to the clearing, that he was almost upon her, when- all of a sudden, the reptile she controlled lurched before him, and slapped him with its tail, sending him flying. Only the barbarian’s incredible musculature saved him from a broken back; but as it was, he lay panting, as the monster again lurched towards him. He lifted his sword, ready to sell his life dearly as he hacked at the huge monster bearing down on him.

Only a single monkey man survived. Upon his head was something resembling a rude crown, made of roughly fashioned copper- this must be the king of the dying race, Wulf thought hazily as he prepared to fight the huge reptile advancing upon him. Harun’s face was that of horror; though beautiful, if was contorted with every evil vice of both humans, and of the black gulfs beyond the stars. It was the face of the queen of hell.

Abena and her brother Oni had been crouching in terror during this whole ordeal. They were next to the chair where Wulf had sat by the fire- and Oni, crouching low, saw a small ebon sphere beneath that chair. He grasped it, and held it out to his older sister Abena, questioningly.

All at once, Abena knew what she should do! Taking the black stone from her brother, she felt it vibrate- it did not want her to hold it now, she knew! Regardless, she took the sphere, and ran into the center of the battle.

Wulf was there, ready to fight the reptilian monster of Harun- and up above, a small pygmy of a monkey, with a primitive copper crown, was pitted against a master sorceress of Kemet- one that had first held her and her people in slavery, and then sought to slay them all for trying to escape to freedom. She held the small stone up, high in the air, in between the witch Harun and the small monkey on his bat, who was holding, and aiming, a small tube against his mouth.

Harun did not even notice, so engaged was she in triumphantly dealing death. She lifted her staff one more time, to turn this small attacker into a lump of stone- and then… nothing! Her beam shot directly into the black stone held by Abena, a small black child- instead of towards her intended target in the sky.

Abena felt a stab of hotness, and then the stone she held aloft just- disintegrated. It had absorbed the attack of Harun, its owner, and then- had ceased to exist! Harun looked on in disbelief, her magic foiled- but then again raised her serpent staff.

Wulf was fighting against the monster that was bearing down upon him! He noticed it was slower than before, and so he leapt to the side as the tail, slower than before, just missed him. With a rage that only a wild barbarian can feel, he leapt upon the creature’s back, and stabbed with his short sword again and again. He kept expecting a blast of sorcery from Harun, knowing that if she had turned his friend Jamba into stone, along with the monkey men, she could do the same to him! But, he cared not, wanting only to deal as much death to this monster as he could before he expired.

After the ensorcelled black stone, held up by Abena, had defused the attack of Harun on the last of the monkey men- the last king of the monkey men- a pygmy riding a great bat, with a primitive metal crown denoting his rank, had been aiming with his small, venom-laced blowgun at this witch that had destroyed his people- and his very race! Holding his bat-steed in place with a well-practiced tightening of his small knees, he aimed very carefully at the black heart of this witch. He blew with all the strength of huge hate and vengeance!

Wulf hacked again and again at the huge reptile, and finally hacked entirely through its massive neck. Only the darts of the monkey men had slowed it enough to enable him to slay it, he knew. But finally, he stood up from where he had been astride the prone monster, its reptilian giant head mostly severed from its huge torso. He looked up, and saw- as the king of the monkey men sent forth his dart of vengeance towards the witch.

The dart went straight to the heart of Harun. In disbelief, she looked up at the tiny creature that had destroyed her, and then she slowly collapsed, the venom going straight to her black heart. As Wulf, the pilgrims that were left, and the small monkey man in the sky astride his bat watched, the beautiful witch Harun fell to the earth, and gradually turned from gorgeous witch- to withered crone- to blackened dust. Her beauty, like all else about her, had been an illusion.

Wulf stood, bleeding from a score of flesh wounds, his blade black with the blood of the reptile creature. Looking up, he held his sword aloft in salute- a salute to a small monkey king, riding a bat- a pygmy warrior with a tiny copper crown who had lost his people.

The small king held aloft his small tube, the blowgun that was his only weapon against the larger people that had always tried to claim his race’s land. He flew away, Wulf knew, never to return.

And the barbarian felt a deep pathos, a loss for a people, a race- that had been severed from the stream of life, before they could reach their full potential. And he knew that he had fought, not against “monkeys”, but against true men.