Eight years before the events of The Edge of Madness
“Why the fuck did you pick this one up?” growled the Wulvern pirate. His teeth barred at his shorter, and fatter, companion who didn’t shy away from the confrontation. Both wore shiny metal piecemeal armor, and hardly any of it matched in color or texture. Some was smooth grey pauldrons, while other pieces were onyx-colored boots and gauntlets. Though their weapons were more technologically advanced, their outfits looked ridiculous to Grimhorn.
“It was the only one we could catch; stupid beast stood right in the damn way, in fact. Look at it, basically harmless in that cage. No wonder its horn is all smashed up like that. Dumb thing probably ran head-first into a boulder.”
The pair howled in laughter at the insult; the fatter one bending over as he grasped his overflowing belly.
Rhonar had little need for armor. They were strong warriors, born with armor-like hide on their back that protected them against most conventional weapons. Grimhorn was no beast. Nor was he, as this puny Wulvern called him, dumb.
Grimhorn’s nostrils flared out slightly as he let loose an annoyed snort. It caught their attention, and their furry faces contorted into what Grimhorn assumed was disgust for his kind. They approached the barred metal cage which held the captive Rhonar.
“You got something to say, beast? How quickly I forget, Rhonar are too stupid to communicate with words.” He said with a growling hiss.
The fat one chimed in as well. “I heard they are too stupid to mate. That’s why their numbers are nearing extinction. Looks like, despite this one being damaged goods, it should still fetch us a fair bounty once we bring him to the Crimson Skulls. They love big, dumb animals for their underground fighting pits.”
Grimhorn snarled and glared at them from where he sat against the cold, metal wall. An overwhelming feeling of rage slowing built inside the mammoth being. It churned and boiled within, yet Grimhorn stayed silent. Waiting.
“What, you don’t like being trapped in this cage? Too bad, beast. Once we hand you over, then you can unleash your animalistic rage on those poor fuckers.”
A smile crept over Grimhorn’s mouth. It peeled back his large lips to expose huge, blocky teeth. He grumbled through them, “Grimhorn not stuck in cage. Tiny Wulvern stuck in ship with Grimhorn.”
Before either Wulvern could throw another insult, Grimhorn rose, strode to the cage bars, and pried them apart, muscles bulging, until the gap was wide enough to fit his massive frame through.
“Oh shit!” the taller Wulvern exclaimed as he raised his blaster in a futile attempt to defend himself. It belched purple plasma that hurled towards the charging Rhonar. The Rhonar warrior was ready for the attack, and he lowered his shoulder as the blasts dissipated against it harmlessly. The fat Wulvern was significantly wiser as he leapt behind a stack of metal crates for cover. The cover would be no match for Grimhorn, but he did save himself from immediate and certain death.
Before the pirate could pull the trigger again, Grimhorn grabbed onto his neck with a blood-curling roar spun around and smashed the full-sized Wulvern into the ship’s floor. The impact left the Wulvern mangled as bones snapped and muscles tore, yet he still breathed raspy gasps for air. Unwilling to allow this inferior warrior a dignified end, Grimhorn raised the Wulvern’s bloodied body so his eyes met his captor’s. He snarled with gnashing teeth and a fiery rage burning in his eyes.
“Ppplease…spare me.” The captor pleaded. Begging was for the weak, and Grimhorn knew only one way to deal with weak souls.
Grimhorn’s eyes narrowed as he spoke slowly. “Grimhorn spares no puny warriors. Grimhorn not broken. Grimhorn still whole.” With that, he hurled the limp body towards the ships wall. If Grimhorn didn’t know better, he would have been impressed that the impact pushed the ship in that direction, even if it was only a slight movement. The lifeless body crumpled to the floor; dark blood pooling around the mess of exposed bones through the metal armor.
He turned, slowly turning his attention to the laborious, wheezy mouth-breathing coming from behind the metal crates on the far side of the large room. A stomp of Grimhorn’s hoof sent a shockwave of air from the dent in the floor it created. If these captors believed Grimhorn to be a beast, then Grimhorn would act like a beast. A wild, untamed, rage-fueled beast. But Grimhorn refused to be broken.
The Rhonar roared in fury and slammed both fists into the floor, causing the crates to tumble and crash loudly to the floor. Shaking uncontrollably, the fat Wulvern stared with wide eyes in terror at Grimhorn, then at his friend’s body, then back to Grimhorn. His eyes darted to the open door to his right, then again to Grimhorn, knowing that was his only exit.
A large hoof scraped the floor as Grimhorn prepared to charge the weak opponent. He could not allow them to leave and inform the rest of the crew. Without waiting any further, he charged towards the Wulvern, snorting furiously as he ran. The ship trembled under the heavy pounding of his feet.
The fat Wulvern somehow managed to scamper out of the way of the rampaging Rhonar. Clawing at the metal floor, the pirate dove through the doorway and slammed a furry paw on the wall. Sirens blared, almost drowning out a furious roar from Grimhorn. Thick doors with transparent glass in the middle from both sides of the entryway slammed shut with such force it knocked back the Wulvern onto his rear.
Terrified eyes widened as they watched Grimhorn pace back and forth, his gaze unwavering. He hoped to scare the literal excrement from this being. It prevented him from exacting his revenge on the rest of the poachers. Without a word, Grimhorn sat down and folded his huge hands into his lap.
He knew it was only a matter of time before the ship reached its destination. Until then, he would prepare. He would be ready.
Grimhorn would wait. Grimhorn would have his revenge.