Every warrior had something they hated to deal with. Farkas had his problems with spiders, Aela had spitting matches with sabre cats, Kodlak couldn't stand the sight of hagravens, and Skjor had issues with Falmer.
Vilkas had frost trolls.
In the northern reaches of Eastmarch, after clearing out a cave of bears with Ria (at least, he reminded himself, he got to see the pure, unadulterated joy on her face when she finished off the last of them), the pair encountered not one, not two, but three damned frost trolls. Whatever strange sense of humor the gods had, he wasn't sure he understood it.
“Shh,” he cautioned to his shield-sister before the trolls caught sight of them. Ria listened, and readied herself by his side. Neither of them were ones to avoid any sort of battle, nor were any of the Companions, but Vilkas still felt the tell-tale rush of adrenaline as one of the trolls cocked its ugly head towards them. Here goes nothing...
Vilkas raised his sword in preparation as the troll barreled towards them at full speed. Ria fired off arrows next to him, and by the time the troll reached them, it only took a few hits of the greatsword to bring the beast down. One down, two to go...
The second troll caught the sound of the fight, and soon was running down towards the Companions with the third troll right behind. Ria's arrows continued to blaze through the air. She wasn't the archer Aela was, but she was getting better with a bow, and for that Vilkas was grateful. Not just grateful. He was proud. He had seen her come this far, and, really, she could hold her own without him. As he watched her fire away, gratefulness and pride and a third emotion (which stirred in the pit of his belly and below the hem of his leathers and which he believed was too inappropriate to name) all swirled inside him.
The problem with these emotions, he soon discovered, was that they were distractions. Enough of a distraction, in fact, to allow one of the trolls to reach Ria and knock her aside with an audible thunk. She collapsed to the ground after flying through the air a short ways, hitting the earth with enough force to knock her out.
No.
Vilkas reared his sword in fury as the troll turned to him. The damned things were nearly impossible to take out without fire, but he'd give it his best shot if it was the last thing he did. Damn it all, she was not going to die.
It had been a while since he'd felt this sort of anger in battle. He'd unleashed his rage when Kodlak had died, but so had everyone. That had been an attack on his own ground, leaving one of his own dead. This, this was different. Strictly speaking, he was passing through the trolls' territory, but, also strictly speaking, the trolls attacked first. And they'd had the nerve to attack someone precious to him, an unforgivable offense.
For half a moment, he regretted that he'd given up the beast blood. If he had that, he would be twice as strong against the trolls, and he'd defeat them easily. Then again, he might have lost control if that were the case.
His sword swung everywhere as he attacked the giant beasts. In retrospect, he would realize how reckless his fighting had been, how his adrenaline got the better of him when he should have been strategically planning the battle, but in the moment it mattered little. It seemed to be working out for the best, as one of the trolls fell to the ground before him. The other was beginning to falter, and, with a few more hacks of his sword, it, too, crumbled to the earth.
Ria.
Ria was still collapsed to the ground, just a short distance from himself. Vilkas ran to her, not caring about the pain in his side. Maybe some bruising or a broken rib was what he'd gotten, but she was faring far worse. “Vilkas?” Gods, was her voice really that weak?
“I'm here.” He helped her to sit up. “It's just a short walk to Windhelm. You can make it. I've got you.”
He had to keep her safe. They had to make it to Windhelm, had to get healing potions before the shops closed and then find a room in one of the taverns. There was no other option.
Vilkas/Ria: Knight In Shining Skyforge Steel (1a/?)
Every warrior had something they hated to deal with. Farkas had his problems with spiders, Aela had spitting matches with sabre cats, Kodlak couldn't stand the sight of hagravens, and Skjor had issues with Falmer.
Vilkas had frost trolls.
In the northern reaches of Eastmarch, after clearing out a cave of bears with Ria (at least, he reminded himself, he got to see the pure, unadulterated joy on her face when she finished off the last of them), the pair encountered not one, not two, but three damned frost trolls. Whatever strange sense of humor the gods had, he wasn't sure he understood it.
“Shh,” he cautioned to his shield-sister before the trolls caught sight of them. Ria listened, and readied herself by his side. Neither of them were ones to avoid any sort of battle, nor were any of the Companions, but Vilkas still felt the tell-tale rush of adrenaline as one of the trolls cocked its ugly head towards them. Here goes nothing...
Vilkas raised his sword in preparation as the troll barreled towards them at full speed. Ria fired off arrows next to him, and by the time the troll reached them, it only took a few hits of the greatsword to bring the beast down. One down, two to go...
The second troll caught the sound of the fight, and soon was running down towards the Companions with the third troll right behind. Ria's arrows continued to blaze through the air. She wasn't the archer Aela was, but she was getting better with a bow, and for that Vilkas was grateful. Not just grateful. He was proud. He had seen her come this far, and, really, she could hold her own without him. As he watched her fire away, gratefulness and pride and a third emotion (which stirred in the pit of his belly and below the hem of his leathers and which he believed was too inappropriate to name) all swirled inside him.
The problem with these emotions, he soon discovered, was that they were distractions. Enough of a distraction, in fact, to allow one of the trolls to reach Ria and knock her aside with an audible thunk. She collapsed to the ground after flying through the air a short ways, hitting the earth with enough force to knock her out.
No.
Vilkas reared his sword in fury as the troll turned to him. The damned things were nearly impossible to take out without fire, but he'd give it his best shot if it was the last thing he did. Damn it all, she was not going to die.
It had been a while since he'd felt this sort of anger in battle. He'd unleashed his rage when Kodlak had died, but so had everyone. That had been an attack on his own ground, leaving one of his own dead. This, this was different. Strictly speaking, he was passing through the trolls' territory, but, also strictly speaking, the trolls attacked first. And they'd had the nerve to attack someone precious to him, an unforgivable offense.
For half a moment, he regretted that he'd given up the beast blood. If he had that, he would be twice as strong against the trolls, and he'd defeat them easily. Then again, he might have lost control if that were the case.
His sword swung everywhere as he attacked the giant beasts. In retrospect, he would realize how reckless his fighting had been, how his adrenaline got the better of him when he should have been strategically planning the battle, but in the moment it mattered little. It seemed to be working out for the best, as one of the trolls fell to the ground before him. The other was beginning to falter, and, with a few more hacks of his sword, it, too, crumbled to the earth.
Ria.
Ria was still collapsed to the ground, just a short distance from himself. Vilkas ran to her, not caring about the pain in his side. Maybe some bruising or a broken rib was what he'd gotten, but she was faring far worse. “Vilkas?” Gods, was her voice really that weak?
“I'm here.” He helped her to sit up. “It's just a short walk to Windhelm. You can make it. I've got you.”
He had to keep her safe. They had to make it to Windhelm, had to get healing potions before the shops closed and then find a room in one of the taverns. There was no other option.
She had to live.