Steem Monsters Fiction Contest Entry - Spineback Wolf, The Instinct of Darkness

I suspect we're nearing the end of these backstory contests for Steem Monsters. I took a little bit of time off, partly because I wanted to give others a chance to win, but mostly because I got busy with my business and some other things. But I like the Spineback Wolf and wanted to enter this one. So here goes. The competition is stiff.

Spineback Wolf
Screen capture from my own Steem Monsters collection. Artwork owned by @steemmonsters.

spineback wolf

Dark intuition, instinct for evil, the wolf's intelligence is as sharp as the spines on his back.
spineback wolf

For years, my father's father was the faithful companion to a white knight, Silvershield his name. They roamed the Splinterlands righting wrongs and protecting the weak, the good guys.

Then one day, while searching the forest for a meal, they happened upon an orc.

The Stonesplitter Orc is a nasty thing. Wild and strong, like a thousand-year-old tree. A knight and a wolf make a powerful pair in the heat of battle, but otherwise, they are as harmless as a calm sea on a breezy day.

Minding their own, searching the forest for prey, the knight and the wolf stumbled upon an orc devouring a giant roc. Poor bird. Its wings were twisted and mangled, unfit for flight. Its claws had been dulled and deadened by weeks of bad weather. Its neck had been snapped, and the orc feasted upon its huge breast as if he had gone days without a meal.

Unable to save the dead, the protective pair decided to move along. Attempting to skirt around the orc undetected, the knight fell into a pit. The crash startled the orc drawing him away from his carrion.

Faithful to the last drop of sweat, Grandfather stood his ground as long as he could, warding off the orc's attacks for hours in the hope of saving his friend. In the end, Stonesplitter Orc was stronger, more powerful than even a rabid grey wolf. Grandfather ended up lifeless in the pit with his dying friend.

The battle gave rise to thunder. The sky flashed its anger like the gods at creation. The forest set itself afire as the wind picked up speed, tossing itself in whips and whirls until it tornadoed its way to the mountains of the east. The sea rose, its torrents splashing about like tongues of thirsty devils, and rushed through the forest like a tidal wave carrying with it all the evils of the underworld. Out of the chaos emerged two great titans--Zintar Mortalis and Alric Stormbringer--each bouncing between the trees and the other elements, throwing spells and curses in each other's direction like some sport between kings.

Screams and shrills filled the air as monsters and demons dark as midnight filled the forest. Out of the rushing waters swam a spineback turtle. A fire beetle scurried over leaf and branch. A feral spirit rode through the forest on the back of a rexxie crashing through trees like some unstoppable tank. The three collided, exploding all over the forest as if a star had burst in the heavens.

Then a calm overtook the forest. The sea subsided, leaving behind remnants of the dead and living, even as the flames of the forest grew stronger before dying their own slow death. The sun and moons hid themselves for a time. And darkness ruled.

From out of the pit where the Silvershield Knight and my grandfather lay, the Lord of Darkness crawled like a demon snake from hell. And when he planted his claws upon the soft muddy soil of the forest, he took flight, his wings flapping the night like claps of thunder rolling in upon themselves, echoing with the ferocious energy of an army hungry for war. And then he hurled. Out of his mouth came the dark grey wolf who was my grandfather, spat like a wad of chewed cud. The wolf's huge spikes extended so far from skin and fur they stretched and sliced the Dark Lord's lips like knives. To this day, our clan looks back with fondness at the gentle souls of our grey wolf ancestors and we know, we will never be that gentle again. We are made for the darkness of war, live for the heat of battle and the death it brings. Our hunger is for the souls of mortals.

spineback wolf

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