Tuesday, August 12, 2014

"Hack yer way through!"

Waning SuperMoon howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Okay then, another late posting. I simply had too much going on that had to get done, which included making certain the pets have a supply of food.

That said, "The Battle of Schitt Creek" is raging, and our monster hunter, Cochrane, is in danger of either orbiting the Earth, or making a nasty splat... but, dear fans, who else has entered the fight to save Talbot's Peak?


"Hack yer way through!"

Scottish dog shapeshifter, Duff McDuff, swung his enormous broadsword high, signaling his band of four warriors -- Donnie Bonnie Lad, a Scottish Deerhound shifter; Dristan, a Collie Dog shifter; Mad Cow Agnus, a black Angus shifter; and Night Runner, a black superwolf.

Behind them, and hovering above on delicate wings, was Duff's light and love, Kyrbella, a fae fox shifter. His woman had promised him on her oath that she'd stay well out of harm's way, merely using her eyes to advise them. 

With Talbot's Peak under attack by some mad-scientist concocted beast, Duff had hastily gathered those he knew would not cower like beaten dogs -- but would fight with heart, to their last mortal breath. If the god's saw it as necessary.

Bellowing a battle cry, Duff charged, broadsword held high. The familiar feel of his kilt against his pumping legs as he raced down the embankment served to fuel and fire his ages-old fighting blood.

He roared a mighty growl, and heard the sound echoed by Donnie, Dristan, Agnus, and Night Runner. "We're comin' for ya... ya beastie from the pits of infernal hell!" he thundered from the depths of his huge lungs, from his warrior's heart.

For Duff McDuff had fought in an uncountable number of battles since the Ancient Ways. No one's bloody fool, though, he'd sized up the combat situation from high ground. First.

He and his kilted, blade-ready band watched as Mr. Turkle bombasted the malformed monstrous beastie with a grenade to its shoulder. Then, the old hand at defense, took careful aim at the creature's giant skull -- surely as the gods laughed, a target not to be missed by whoever could hit the broadside of a barn... as the saying went.

"Batter up," Donnie quipped beside Duff.

"And he swings," Dristan crooned like a sports announcer.

"Home run," Agnus finished.

"Hell," Night Runner growled. "Looks like Turkle is about to be a turkey dinner. Without the trimmings." 

With the superwolf's words ringing in his ears, Duff raced the relatively short distance toward the mammoth's uglier-than-sin hindquarters. Reaching their point of attack, he halted close to the beastie's oak-trunk sized back leg. 

Duff spun several times, gathering his force. "Batter up," he bellowed. "ya unnatural pachyderm from a warlock's nightmare."

With his full strength, Duff aimed for the hellephant's tendon slicing his mighty blade across its lower back leg. Thick fur flew and a bit o' flesh. A warrior's madness took possession of him, and Duff roared.

"Hack yer way through!" he shouted, already hearing the others swing their blades against hide as tough as steel.

Taking turns with Agnus, Duff repeatedly slashed hunks of bloody flesh off the mammoth's leg. At the same time, he heard Cochrane's elephant gun blasting shot after shot.

"What the freakin' scat is this lab-conjured monster made out of?" Night Runner growled above their chopping blades. He, Donnie, and Dristan attacked the beastie's other back leg.

Mr. Turkle shot himself free! Kyrbella yelled inside Duff's mind.

"Faster, lads," Duff barked. "Cripple this out-of-Frankenstein's-grave creature."

"Bad news," Dristan panting-barked. "It's self-repairing."

"Call on the Great Force, me lads," Duff encouraged. He continued hacking like a moonstruck fiend, with Agnus matching his strikes. "Whoever delivers the crippling blow gets to yell 'timber'."

Watch out! Kyrbella telapathed. Grenades. Dante is attacking. Aerial attack too.

Sudden explosions around the leviathan beastie's front legs, then it's furiously shaking head,  caused Duff and his warriors to jump back. Escaping the hellephant's backward but unaimed kicks, they rallied, only to see Dante whip and weave on his Hawg.

Miraculously to Duff's mind, Dante avoided the serpent strikes of the unholy creature's trunk. Not long enough, though. With one savage slap on the rear of the motorcycle, the alpha werewolf skidded, hit the hump of ground and went sailing through air. With the saints' own luck, Dante landed on a soft spot of grass.

Seeing Cochrane rush into the middle of the road, and take aim, Duff barked, "Now's the time, lads. Let's cut this monster down."

As Cochrane played target, taunting the beast he called Atcheson, the five of them frantically swung their blades. Pieces of mammoth meat quick-as-spit covered the road. Until... 

A trumpeting roar shivered the air. The very sound shook the asphalt beneath their feet.  When the Atcheson beast charged, quaking the ground, the five of them were hurled backward.

Unable to land on his feet, Duff's derriere smacked the highway, his blade clattering on the highway. He wasn't alone, thank the fine gods. His four brave comrades had fallen on their backsides as well.

Cochrane, the beastie's got him trapped like a hungry python, Kyrbella blasted inside Duff's mind.

As one, Duff and his warriors leaped to their feet. Blades at the ready, they charged toward the mountain-of-fish stench that was the Atcheson behemoth. All of them stopped dead in their tracks, seeing Cochrane flung from the mammoth's impossibly long trunk.

The monster hunter skyrocketed into the wild blue yonder. No one spoke as Cochrane disappeared.


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ...


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance


Rebecca Gillan said...

Verra nice! I think I need to go add some dialogue to my post for tomorrow. No way would the twins miss reporting on "dudes in skirts running around with swords." ;)

Savanna Kougar said...

Nope. Loki and Thor would never miss that. ~grins~

Pat C. said...

Hooray for the Scottish battalion!

Yes, Atcheson is self-repairing. Morloxian threw that in as a bonus. Enough to avoid death by peanut? We'll have to see.

Lovely picture. If the camera had been angled a little bit better, we could have seen right up his -- what? Family-friendly blog? Oh crap.

Savanna Kougar said...

Yep, right up his... kilt... That would be a cool title in a way: Death by Peanuts... except too many have actually died from peanut allergies... so scrap that. Sorry, and condolences, to everyone who knows someone who did pass on.

Savanna Kougar said...

Yep, a true Scotsmen isn't going to pass up this battle!

Serena Shay said...

I was clearly 'not' the taker of this picture or we would be answering the age old question of what a scot wears under his kilt! Rawr!

Nice job, Savanna! Lots of help to save the old town of Talbot's Peak. :)

Savanna Kougar said...

The Peak has the best 'rawr! heroes! And lots of help!