A Wolf Among Gods (D&D / Danmachi)

[Stimpak Medic]

Prologue: A Whole New World

My name is Wulfgar, Son of Beornegar. I have lived the lives of two men and have died twice before. If I could do it all over again, I would change nothing. Nothing at all.

I have felt the soft flesh of beautiful women beneath me, fought dragons, sired four children, and tasted the utter hopeless despair of brutal torture in Hell. The flesh has been stripped off my body, and blades have torn through my skin. My hammer strikes have shaken the lands with their resonating cracks and thunder, and I have called out to the Heavens as I struck down my enemies in the name of Tempus, and later Mielikki.

I have lost friends, comrades in arms, and gained new ones. I have tasted the emptiness of despair, lost in a Godless, hopeless, pitiful sorrow.

And now, in my final moments before I truly die and pass on to the afterlife forever, I can't help but feel a cold sharpness in my chest, like a dagger twisting slowly, digging ever deeper.

Every breath I take is a stinging, burning agony.

I must be honest with myself. I don't want to go. I want to live.

"I want to live!" My old dusty croaking voice barely comes out as an ancient growl as I lie on the wolf and bear pelt bed in the Chieftain's quarters of the Tribe of the Elk's long hall.

There is no fight for me to die in. No war to be fought.

I have united the tribes under my name. I have united all of Icewind Dale.

It is nighttime, but I doubt my life will linger till the morn.

"Chieftan!" The cries of my warriors, advisers, and tribesmen can be heard, and I see faint colors. They flicker blurrily, like a torch in a gust. I see my proud, strong son's face, and I smile, knowing that he will do well in his life.

The sounds fade as the light dims.

In my last moments, I can only think of one thing: a giant city with a tower that reaches the sky dead in the center. However, my last look must have been one of confusion. The confusion of not the halls of Tempus greeting me, but the feeling of stone on my back, and pelts on my body.

Aegis fang rests on the deerskin belt at my waist, hanging ready for conflict.

The ever-present frailty and ache of my bones is gone, and my heart beats with robust intensity. My corded, nay, bulging muscles on my arms immediately tell me all that I need to know.

I have regained my youth.

I am not dead. Nay, death has a certain dulled feel to it, and the afterlife is surely not what appears before me. The halls of Tempus have no tower that reaches the sky, and the forests of Mielikki hold no love for vast industrial cities.

The sights and sounds fill my eyes, searing into my mind, and washing into my ears, akin to a powerful wave washing over a helpless shore.

"This is no illusion," I speak, looking around myself. I was intimately familiar with cruel, twisted illusions, being tortured by that Succubus and her hellish minions for all those years in the depths of Hell.

No, this was all quite real.

I stand at six foot eight, the full height of my youth, and with the vigor of it as well. However, in my chilled age, I feel none of the fury, nor the excitement I would have in my first thirty years of life. Instead, all I feel is nagging confusion.

If this were a mission from my Gods, surely there would be some sign. Some message in the stars, the sky, the earth. Yet there is none, no matter how patiently I wait.

I stay the way I am, arms crossed and leaning against the wall of the building behind me.

There is a crowd of people, all coming and going, and never truly diminishing. They all seem to be combatants of their own sort. Adventurers in service of a greater purpose. Perhaps this building I lean against is the Guild that they belong to.

It is of no surprise that such a large city would hold many guilds. Not even Luskan or Waterdeep held this many men and women in it. Nay, not even Neverwinter, the Jewel of the East, could boast such a size.

Just where had I been deposited, and for what purpose?

I look around me, and I see many Humans, occasionally an Elf, perhaps a Wood Elf or a Sun Elf, but their passing is rare. Then, marching by in their own short stature were five dwarves, dressed in thick coats and cloths, with fine golden jewelry on their hands and around their necks.

There are some that confuse me, being perhaps Halflings, but they have features of animals on them. Pointed furry ears and bushy tails of various forest animals.

I must admit that I have never heard of, nor seen, such a race of beings as peculiar as these before.

I must be quite far from my home to see such odd beings. Yet there they are nonetheless.

Rising to my full height, I turn away from the street and walk to the open doors of what I assume is the Guild of some sort. Perhaps I will get the information that I seek here?

I enter the building, and some heads turn, seeing my stature and size, eyeing the weapon at my belt. When my gaze falls upon them, they turn their heads away, as they should.

I see, further towards the end of the large open room, a long desk with several people behind it, talking to adventurers.

One space in it is free, and behind it, face down on a pile of papers, sits a pink-haired young woman, likely half the age of my oldest child. I walk over to the wooden counter and rap on it with my large fist.

"Little miss, are you alive?" I ask, my voice reverberating through the hall, despite my not being loud.

The young lady groans, likely waking up from a deep, restful sleep. A line of drool can be seen linking her tiny mouth to some now-wet papers where her face was just resting upon.

"I'm alive," She groans, opening her eyes and looking straight at my abdomen, blinking twice at the muscular flesh in front of her.

Thank Tempus that we can communicate. It would be dire straits if we couldn't.

"Huh?" She asks, brushing her pink hair out of her face and looking up. Then further up past my wolfskin shirt, and up to my chisled jaw and piercing blue eyes.

"Whoa, just my type," She mumbles, a slight blush on her face, but I do not reciprocate the feeling. She looks young enough to be my middle daughter, and she has none of the fire in her eyes, nor the discipline I look for in a woman.

"Focus," I reply, and she shakes her head to snap out of her stupor.

"Sorry, mister. I'm Misha Flott, Adventurer's Guild receptionist and advisor to adventurers. What can I do for you?" She asks, her pink eyes settling down as she catches her breath and rationality.

"I've only arrived in this city this morning, and I seek to settle here for some time. Perhaps you can point me in the right direction for work and lodging?" I ask, not really expecting much from this airheaded young lady.

She seems to look me over again and nods in satisfaction.

"You look like you'd make a good adventurer, and that hammer at your waist looks very well crafted. Were you a mercenary before you came to Orario?" She asks, her soft, calming voice makes it to my ears, and I shake my head.

Orario? It seems to be the name of the city that I have found myself washed up upon.

"I was a Chieftan for my tribe in the far north, but I have taken many jobs since. I suppose an Adventurer is the best title for me now?" I finish with a question, asking myself just as much as her.

"Whoa. A chieftain from the far north? That sounds so cool!" She finishes excitedly, wiping the drool from her face with the back of her hand and looking up attentively.

"So, Miste-Uhh, Chieftan, what's your name?" She asks, her blush deepening.

I feel almost dirty, having a young girl blush at an old man like myself, over eight times her age or so, but I remember that my youth had been returned to me, so to her, I likely look no more than four to six years older than her. For a young lady like her, likely in her late teens to perhaps very early twenties, I swallow my disgust and continue talking.

"I am Wulfgar. Now, can you tell me about work and lodging?" I steer the conversation back to the important things.

"Right, Wulfgar. You said you were an Adventurer? What Familia are you from, if any?" She asks, cocking her head curiously.

"Familia? What is that?" I ask, curious as to this new term.

"Oh wow, you really are from far away. I guess whatever context you used adventurer in isn't the same as in this city. I guess I'll have to do you a favor and tell you how things work here." She said, puffing out her chest a little to look somewhat more important.

It was cute in a small sort of way, but Wulfgar had little interest in cute things.

"If you must," I say, and the young lady walks out from behind the desk and through a small gate nearby.

"Come, let's go to a booth. This may take a while." She waves, and standing next to me, she could almost be confused for a Halfling.

 

[Stimpak Medic]

Chapter One: The Adventurer and The Bloody Boy

The booths of the Adventurer's Guild were spacious and had soft, cushioned seats. Even Wulfgar, with his large legs, could sit comfortably on one.

Misha had taken a seat across from him and had to still look up at him, mostly due to the admixture of her short stature and his tall build. She began talking with him about the city of Orario, and he learned quite a few things in the exchange.

What had really shocked him was her claim that Gods walked among them, simply and casually. Such a thing was absolutely insane to him. Given the harsh conflicts between the forces of the many Gods where he was from, surely this would invoke mass casualties, any time there was a disagreement. Yet, this didn't seem the case.

The conversation continued, and Misha explained the Familia system and the Falna, and yet again, Wulfgar was dumbstruck.

To think that a God would simply give even a small amount of blood to any mortal that walked in off the street was so shocking that he needed to compose himself. Did the Gods here value the people here so much, or did the Humans not know the value of a deity's blood? Surely, some time in the past, there would be men and women who had attempted to extract some of said blood from themselves or other adventurers that they killed to use it as an alchemical reagent, whether in secret or not.

He just didn't have enough information. Whatever he thought upon waking up in this city, it was not this. Such odd rituals could give him little time to understand. However, he was not unfamiliar with bizarre rituals and strange customs, so the shock was softened a bit.

"Well, enough about that. I want to hear about you, Wulfgar. How is it in the far north? What is it like being the chieftain of a Tribe?" Misha asked, resting her hands on her cheeks and looking sparkly-eyed up at him.

"You have given me valuable information, little lady; in return, I will share the stories of my past," Wulfgar said, clasping his hands that rested atop the table, and taking a deep breath.

"Little la-" Misha pouted, but was cut off before she could protest.

"When I was but a young boy, raising your status in the Tribe of the Elk was a hard thing to do. You must go out and perform honorable deeds for the tribe. Be it defeating warriors from another tribe, slaying a mighty beast, or siring many children, you had options," He said, taking another breath as his blue eyes lit up with reminiscence.

"My first kill was that of a Dire Bear, a giant beast ten times the size of any man that had killed a dozen of our tribesmen. I set out one morning with nothing but the clothes on my back, my axe, and spear, and for six days and nights I hunted the best, before on the Seventh day I fought the monster. It's giant claws gouged my chest, and its vicious fangs sank into my right arm," Wulfgar continued, raising his right arm a bit, revealing large scars of where a huge row of teeth had dug into his flesh.

But I had managed to wrestle it to the ground, where I hacked into it with my axe and brought my spear to its eyes. Eventually, the beast died with me on that icy plain, where its hot blood washed over my skin.

When I woke up the next day, I took the beast's head as a trophy and brought it back to my tribe, granting me the title of Warrior.

After many more hunts, I gained the opportunity to challenge our Chieftain for the spot of Chieftain, and in such, I must slay a Dragon to have the right to challenge him.

"A dragon?" Misha asked, her eyes wide and excited at the tale.

"Aye, a dragon. The White Dragon, Icingdeath. With the help of my comrades, we charged the dragon's lair and slew the foul beast. I dealt the final blow, sending a spire of Ice through the dragon's heart, after which we brought the proof of battle back to the tribe, and I fought the chieftain in a battle that changed the fate of the entire Dale." He continued, stopping and taking a deep breath, as memories would not stop flashing across his mind.

"And then?" Misha asked, looking for the conclusion to what happened.

"Ha...And then I won. I defeated the Chieftan before me, saving the tribe from certain doom in the wars across the icy tundras." He finished, letting out a sigh with some sorrow.

"That's all for now. Perhaps if we meet eachother once more, we can continue this conversation another time. However, I am looking to find work and lodging, as I have said earlier."

Wulfgar felt that he had gotten sidetracked, even if there was some good information shared.

"Ugh...Fine. I was going to recommend it to you earlier, but perhaps, just maybe, you could become an adventurer and work with the Adventurer's Guild? Outside of specialized jobs in big familias, adventurers make the most Valis, and have support from the Adventurer's Guild, and I'm not bragging, but I'm very good at my job... So...Work with me?" Misha finished, extending her small hand and arm across the table to him.

"There are some drool-covered papers at the desk that would disagree with your claim of being good at your job, but I suppose becoming an Adventurer wouldn't be so bad. How much is the fee for joining the Guild?" Wulfgar answered, reaching one of his large hands out and taking her tiny hand in his in a firm handshake, to which Misha shamelessly brightened up while completely ignoring the comment about her drool-covered papers.

"Great! Don't tell anyone, but for you, I'll delay your initiation fees until you start your work with the guild as an adventurer. Take your time with joining a familia, and from what you tell me, and how you look." She said, giving him a one over before continuing.

"You don't need to worry about getting turned down from one. Just be careful with whom you join hands. Not every God or Goddess has your best intentions in mind." She said, vigorously shaking his hand.

"Yes, there are plenty of dark gods out there..." Wulfgar agreed, remembering the battles with the creatures of Lolth, the denizens of Hell, and the various run-ins he had with cultists.

"Well, let's get your paperwork set up, and then you can start doing everything you need to. Wait here for a moment." She finished, removing her hand from within his, standing up, and giving no time for any change of heart.

She quickly scurried off with the speed of a small mouse and vanished behind a door further into the building.

Wulfgar let out a long breath. He wasn't sure if becoming an adventurer was his best choice, but for him, who was neither a professor nor a writer, he was drawn to adventuring.

He could become a menial laborer or perhaps a bouncer again, but that was simply not his path. He was much more suited to swinging Aegis-fang and fighting monsters than lifting bricks and stopping drunkards from fighting and harassing each other.

He brought his hands to his face and closed his eyes as he rested his face against his palms.

He would admit that he was still confused. He understood the basics of this world, and somewhat this city, but he did feel something strange that he was just now picking up on. It was as if the reality he woke up in was made from a different fabric. It was very faint and wholly spiritual, but his very existence felt like it was being slightly rejected by the world, as if he simply didn't belong. It didn't translate to pain or suffering, just simply felt like an itch that came and went that couldn't be scratched, no matter what he tried.

Removing his hands from his face, Wulfgar got up from his seat and looked around. The hall was large and brightly lit, with adventurers lining up in front of booths and windows where they were selling and buying things. He walked over to the door, and outside in the front of the guild, the soft summer breeze washed over his face.

He looked up at the sky, offering a small prayer to Mielikki for the peace he wished to find, and for answers. And for a moment, just one moment, everything went calm and silent, as if everything were simply flash frozen.

He looked around him, and advancing down the street, he could just make out a small boy running through the street, covered in what he assumed was monster blood, screaming like a madman as he lurched and stumbled forward.

Then, everything unfroze, and the boy, barely able to control his speed, barreled headfirst into the wall of a man who was Wulfgar. It was as if he had found the perfect geodesic path to run directly right into him.

The boy, with all his speed, still could not stop his collision, splotching parts of Wulfgar's wolf pelt clothing with blood.

With his reckless rush stopped, the young boy only stopped screaming when he realized that he was no longer moving and looked up at the man whom he had run into.

The boy gulped and stepped back, offering a sincere apology, bowing quickly and repeatedly.

Wulfgar, irritated, but used to such antics with his children that he had raised, waved the boy's apologies off.

"It's fine, young lad. Just look where you're running next time." Wulfgar responded, looking the boy over. This was the boy that Mielikki had deemed important, so he must have some value to him, or be part of his future in some way.

"Thank you, Sir." The boy said, about to turn away, when Wulfgar put a large hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Tell me, young Lad, what is your name?" He asked, turning the boy back to him.

"Oh, uhh. Bell. Bell Cranel." The boy answered, and even with the blood coating his body, Wulfgar could see the innocence and kindness on his face.

"Well, Bell, I'm Wulfgar. It's good to meet you, and make sure to remember my name. We'll likely be crossing paths more than once in the future." He said, reaching out his free hand for Bell to shake it, and with an awkward pause, Bell did.

"Well then. Good luck, young adventurer." Wulfgar finished, seeing Misha walking out from the door in the back of the hall. Then he walked away, not waiting for Bell's reply, leaving the bloody young boy with a confused smile on his face.