|| ππππππ || ππππππ ππ ππππππππ ||| MALE | WANDERING WARLOCK | THE NEW GUARD | MYSPOONS | On a dark, and stormy night...
Well, most nights are dark. But this one in particular was stormy-- the worst storm of that spring... no, of that year. A ferocious storm of black skies and blinding flashes of lightning rending the heavens open with every strike. Rain falls in torrents, blasting every surface the droplets hit, blown down at an angle from the wicked winds. The valley looks to have been transformed into a sea.
When most creatures would have taken shelter, huddled up under the best cover they could find, one lion walks in the night. Unbothered by nature raging and frothing around him. Rain slides off his coat, repelled by the oil in it. His star-marked mane does not whip around him in the wind. He is dry and warm, at home under the rolling clouds. When lightning strikes, the corresponding marks on his coat light up white.
The lion prays to his god for tornados; Thorir has arrived.
He wields the power of Thor, long ago devoting his soul to the old northern god of storms. Gifted unusual strength and the ability to conjure up freak weather patterns. Thorir is mortal, a lion who sought out the god most willing to be his patron. A bargain was made-- Thorin would change his name, honor his new god, and preach of Thor's might in exchange for power of his own.
A chain glistens around Thorin's neck, a metal and oak pendant of Thor's hammer sits at the end of it. Glowing the same royal purple as his eyes.
Rivers flood when Thorin crosses them, swelling with rushing water. Tree branches bend, then break when Thorin passes under them. Oaks stand strong and study, blessed by Thor. Lightning illuminates the sky when Thorin wishes to look at his surroundings. Rain smooths out a path for him, stretching far in front, muddying the trail behind.
To where? Thorin knows not. He places faith in his god, trusting his safety and his journey to Thor. He has the power of patron backing him, his own strength coursing through his veins. Thorin is at his prime again, emboldened and fearless.
The lion chuckles to himself, knowing he has caused every living thing in the valley to cower before his arrival. Before dawn, Thorin might even conjure some snow. Make it impervious to the hot sun as a testimony of his god's might. It would be a fitting announcement to the prides of the valley. Let them fear a sign from the gods; he has Thor's favor.
Thorin is ready for any challenge. By Thor's hammer, he will succeed!
[436/500 words]