Snippet #913557

Dukald thrashed Grimhide's reins, and jarred his heels into her sides, urging her to move faster. The heavy animal's footsteps thudded through the grassy land like a war drum. Again, the orange haired dwarf lashed the reigns. "Go! Git yer lazy hide goin'! Ain't no time ta waste, girl!" He shouted. The bear responded with a low, groaning roar. The bear's mass slightly jiggled as it thundered towards the Civil Encampment: Justice. He would arrive in only a few minutes at this rate.

His objective came into view; the arrangement of tents that bore a Civil banner in front. His bear's monsterous paws slammed against the ground as they began to slow, almost digging holes as sudden as the decrease in speed was. He looked amongst the tents, his green eyes anaylizing each one. To his military experience, usually the "In Commands" had larger tents then the rabble. Dukald rode past the other infantry, looking at their surprised and shocked faces. He listened to their whispers of "Is he riding a bear?!", "That thing is a monster!", and other like sayings. It inflated the dwarf's head just a tad. The other races wouldn't even dream of trying to ride a bear, except perhaps the elves...and he didn't believe they could do it as masterfully as the dwarven race, whom had made riding these brutal creatures a fearsome art.

Grimhide plodded through the camp, allowing her dwarven rider to check all of the tents. He returned salutes that were tossed his way, and a few even followed him, seeing what he was doing. Rain pelted him and his steed, but they paid it no mind. In the mines, he was used to water dripping down from the tops of the caverns. Finally, he reached his destination; a rather large looking tent which seemed to be one of the higher-ups for the Civil. He jerked the reins of his mount, and threw his leg over, landing on the ground with a small jingle, his dwarven quailty mithril mail generating the sound. He walked inside the tent's flaps, and looked around. He saw both Diloxi, and Nhil inside. Peering to each one, he spoke up, his dwarven accent heavy on their ears. " 'Scuse me, would either o' ya happen ta be tha general?" The red-bearded dwarf asked with an eyebrow perched high.