Guild Wars_ Ghosts of Ascalon - Matt Forbeck [39]
Dougal rushed forward and brought the chair down on the norn’s head as hard as he could. As tall as the norn was, Dougal managed only to bash him in the neck, smashing the chair to pieces.
The norn turned around, still hefting the bedpost in one hand as if it were no heavier than a stick, and grinned. “Good job, boy!” he slurred. “That almost hurt.”
Oh gods, thought Dougal, he’s drunk. The only thing worse than a norn was a drunk norn.
While Dougal gaped at the norn’s insane smile, the monstrous warrior brought the bedpost around like a club and knocked Dougal across the room. As Dougal smashed into the desk, the only thing he could think was how lucky he’d been that the double-bladed axe had been on the other side of the pole when it struck him. He lay there sprawled atop the desk, dazed and hurting, and struggled to collect any more thoughts than that.
The norn looked down at Dougal for a moment, nodding in satisfaction. “Ah, just like a human, though,” he said. “Folds like a sheet.” Then he put the bedpost on the ground and stood on it while he tried to pull his weapon from it with both hands. The force of his initial blow had jammed it tight. “Damnation,” he said with an amused grunt. “I need to learn what kind of wood this is and make me a suit of armor from it.” Then he laughed at the concept.
Riona appeared in the doorway, a look of irritation on her face. Dougal shouted to warn her off. She ignored him and, drawing her sword, moved in to attack the norn.
“Just hold on there, girl,” the norn said, struggling past his hiccups as he cast a wary eye on her sword and edged toward Dougal. “I take no issue with you. Just let me do my duty and dispatch this boy.”
Riona hesitated, her gaze flickering between Dougal and the norn. The norn saw the momentary distraction and launched himself forward, striking the human woman in the side with a roundhouse kick. Riona let out a shout as she was flung against the far wall. She was slow in getting up.
A huge shadow with tiger stripes appeared in the doorway. Ember Doomforge unleashed a battle cry that rumbled off the room’s walls. Dougal would have covered his ears if he hadn’t needed his hands to steady himself on the floor as he scrambled away from the norn.
The norn turned to face the charr and let loose a hearty laugh filled with bloodlusty glee. “Good! A foe worthy of my axe—if I could get the bloody thing free!”
Doomforge leaped at the norn, her claws popped from her fingers like a dragon’s talons. The norn brought his axe and its attached bedpost up before him like a shield, and the charr slammed into it, knocking them both to the floor.
Flat on his back, the norn shoved hard with both hands against his axe, trying to keep the charr at arm’s length. Snarling like an angry wolf, Doomforge struggled to force her way past the bedpost, raking at the wood and the norn’s arms with her claws.
Dougal shouted, “He’s drunk and crazy!” hoping the information would help Doomforge. He knew it would only be a matter of seconds before one of them found some advantage over the other and the battle would be over. If the charr managed to bash the bedpost aside, she would tear the norn to pieces; but if the norn could hold her off until he could find some leverage, he might pin Doomforge under the bedpost and choke her to death.
Dougal scooped up a leg from the smashed chair. It wasn’t a sword, but it would have to do. He charged right at the norn, howling all the way, hoping to at least distract him and give Doomforge a chance to dispatch him.
Seeing Dougal coming, the norn kicked his feet up hard and flipped Doomforge over him. The charr bowled straight into Dougal, rolling them both into a tangle of arms and legs that careened into the wall behind him.
Doomforge yowled in frustration and shoved Dougal away. He scrambled away from her, afraid that she might gore him in her