Let's call this a little flavor to kick this off with. This does not involve your characters, and you don't respond to this story piece. I will put the next (first) post up that you need to respond to soon. I am no author, so hopefully this comes out well. :)
The view looks out over a forest, a lite layer of snow sits on top the trees as the view slowly moves down to the top of the trees towards for floor of the forest. The snow is thicker on the ground as it falls sooner this far north. You see a lone figure running through the forest. As the figure approaches the view you see a woman, a beautiful woman, despite the odd painted patterns on her face. Dressed in furs and leathers of different animals. Her hair is brown and tied up out of her face by a leather strap across her forehead wrapping around the back. You see the hilt of a large sword sticking out of its scabbard on her back, and an axe and knife hung at her side.
She is running hard, breathing heavy and leaning forward as if she can only go so much farther. In the distance is a howl and guttural call of several horrid dog like animals called Worgs. She pauses for moment, catching her breath and turning to look behind her. She sees her nearest pursuer and turns and starts to run again. Her long legs taking stride after stride through the forest, bursting through branches and leaping over fallen trees. She can now hear the nearest Worg crushing through the snow, baying in pleasure as it moves in on it's kill.
As she leaps over the next fallen tree, she lands and kicks backward putting her back against the fallen trunk moments before the Worg comes leaping over the fallen tree. The Worg lands heavy, skidding and sliding to stop as it tries to wheel around at her, but she moves quicker. Axe in one hand and a knife in the other, she is on the Worg before it can get it's footing. Her hand axe strikes the Worg in the head, the blade deflects off the skull of the Worg, but the momentum of the blow keeps the Worg spinning in the snow. She dives right, coming up behind the new floundering, whimpering Worg. Her knife red with fresh blood from hamstringing the creature as she passed. Still trying to turn and face her, the Worgs back leg fails him as he tries to put it down to gain traction. She is already on him again, the axe buries in the skull of the Worg, it makes a final strange whimper and falls. She tries to remove the axe, but it is buried deep in the hard skull of the creature. She leaves the axe after one more frustrated tug but deciding the better course of action is to turn and run. The baying of the other Worgs closing in on her much closer now.
Running again, her breathing is heavy and her strides shorter as she ducks and leaps through the forest floor. Suddenly she comes to a sliding halt, arms flailing to her sides like she is trying to swim backwards through he air. As the view pans out from her, you see a cliff about 75 feet high, straight down to the forest tree tops below it. She manages to keep herself from tumbling off the cliff, and then drops to one knee. The baying and howling getting even closer, as they sense their prey is close.
The woman stands and pulls the greatsword from its sheath on her back as she turns in the direction of the closing Worgs and starts walking towards them. She brings the sword up in front of her, straight up and down in a form of salute.
"Ancestors, Brother and Sisters, those who sit in the Forever Halls, raise a glass to me." she says, eyes closed. "This day I will join you in the Forever Halls. Lend me your strength and guide my fathers blade." She opens her eyes, seeing the other two Worgs closing in on her. "Let them see what a woman of the north is made of, that a Chieftains daughter stands before them!" She yells louder with each word. "RAAAHHHH!" she yells as she bursts into motion, with power and grace she moves like the wind. Bringing her greatsword down directly onto the head of the Worg that didn't have time to rethink charging in on the seemly helpless being in front of it. The force of the strike driving the head of the Worg into the ground in a spray of blood. She pirouettes as she sidesteps with the force of the blow, stepping aside as the body of the Worg slides past her grotesquely, spinning the blade in her hands to bring it back up in front of her. The dead Worgs nearly cleaved head folded underneath it's body. As its momentum ends and it comes to a stop causing the tension of its contorted body to somersaultt the now limp body onto it's back with blood spraying out in bright red lines in the snow.
The final Worg, bigger then the other two she has already killed, isn't so quick to rush in on the woman, having enough intelligence to know this woman is no easy kill. He is pacing her back and forth, teeth bared in a low growl as he sizes her up. "Lets finish this beast, come and taste my steel!" she yells as she quickly moves and brings a strike down at the Worg, but he bounds back out of the way of the strike, then with powerful hind legs leaps back forward at the woman as the strike put her off balance for just a second. She goes down backwards as the large paws of the Worg catch her in each shoulder, bringing her down under the beast. She flashes the pommel of the blade back across, hitting the Worg in the side of the head right before its jaws would have torn out her throat. He yelps, and reels at the blow. The Worg bounds backwards off the woman and begins to turn back to her to come back in at her. The woman is scrambling backwards away from the Worg and trying to get on her feet. The Worg leaps again at her, but she rolls to the left on the ground then starts to roll back to her right using her momentum to bring the greatsword in an arc across her prone body. It bites into the snow and ground as the Worg jumps back again. She begins to back up again, and the Worg makes another lunge at her but it seems to only be to drive her backwards. Then the woman gets to the cliff edge and can go no farther back. The Worg lets out a howl, knowing he has his prey cornered. He paces her again, weighing when to strike.
She gains her feet again watching the Worg pace her. If a Worg could smile she could see it on his face. Leaning on her sword appearing to catch her breath a moment, but in a quick fluid motion slings the knife at her hip at the Worg. The knife buries itself in the chest of the Worg, just to the side of where the front leg and chest meet. The Worg lets out a pained, but angry roar and wheels directly at the woman. He leaps at her, and she roars back. You see the blade of her greatsword appear out the back of the Worg as they both tumble backwards over the edge of the cliff.
The view lingers there for a moment. The cliff edge with the trees beyond and below the cliff. You see red blood spots stark and steaming on the pure white snow. All you hear is the howling of the wind as swirls of snow whip around. The view fades slowly to black.