The sickening sound of metal slicing through bone was quickly followed by the scream. Pain, fear. Skoll could feel it. Smell it. Taste it. As he steadied himself to make the killing blow against the prone elf before him, Skoll sensed danger. Senses from two heads simultaneously gathering data from his surroundings, heightening his awareness, making him ever vigilant, keeping him safe. Skoll trusted his instincts, and spun around just in time to parry a mighty dwarf warhammer that would have shattered his shoulder. Skoll recognised the dwarf immediately, Thrommel of the Ironbeard clan. It took all of the ettin’s might to stall the dwarf’s hammer blow and fend off the immediate follow-up strike. Skoll knew he’d been frustratingly close to driving the elf from this place, but he could only growl in rage as she slunk away, all of his attention required to prevent the dwarf from braining him with his infernal hammer.
Skoll had fought Thrommel before and knew he had little chance to finish this fight quickly, it would be difficult and drawn-out, unless fate intervened. It appeared that fate heard his prayer when the sound of hooves clattered on the cobble stones behind the dwarf. Thrommel turned to his side an attempt to dodge but couldn’t escape the thrust of two mighty horns that pierced his gut plate and then sent him sailing through the air, to land hard on his back metres away. Skoll was big amongst his kin, yet the huge frame of Thorgar towered over him, and for a moment, Skoll feared the beast would not know friend from foe. The moment passed, and the rage in Thorgar’s eyes subsided enough to allow a snort, and a hand gesture indicating that Skoll should pursue the elf priestess who had fallen back to the outskirts of the melee. The minotaur then turned and made a beeline for the prone dwarf, clearly intending to finish that fight permanently.
Skoll ran towards the priestess as she drew yet another soul out of the ground. There were now two of the blue spectres whirling around her in some kind of macabre dance. She seemed renewed, most of her wounds healed, and she was clearly braced to fight this time as Skoll bore down on her. Although the instincts of his race urged him to charge head-long into melee, he fought the urge and instead drew on the reservoir of will that his two minds, joined in unity purpose, granted him. This formidable will was the root of what had bought him such grand status among all the orcs of Athien, and here in Between, as that will could rend the earth itself. Bending his mind to the task, Skoll drew deeply from the power vested within the Effigy that had summoned him sending magical energies surging through his body. His muscles contorted and veins popped from his neck, to the point where he thought he may burst. The release was sheer ecstasy as a pulse of pure energy rumbled outward from Skoll's feet in all directions, staining the ground red as it passed. The wave reached the elf before she could react, her gaze moved from the ground to Skoll, and the realisation of what was to come dawned on her.
As the wave struck Saiyin, the souls around her were dyed blood red as the ground, and their dance became disjointed and broken, leaping around her in a frenzy before freezing for an instant. Then they exploded, shattering in unison and blazing with a hell-red fire that scorched the elf. She screamed for a moment, silhouetted in light, before wining out as the chord that bound her projection to Between was severed and Saiyin returned to her mortal body on Athien. Skoll revelled in the backwash of power around him as she was driven away, a new soul, carved from her energies, and the Effigy that had bound her here, coalesced on his skin and formed the familiar light blue ball that danced around him. The power felt like a drug in Skoll's system, opening new possibilities, removing limitations. Though he knew this was only a temporary gain, sure to leave him when he left this plane, he knew he had some time to enjoy it.
He whirled around to survey his surroundings once again. The sounds of battle reverberated around the ancient amphitheatre they had been summoned to, grey and bleak in the half-light of the plane of shadow. Thrommel had somehow survived and continued his struggle with Thorgar, and Skoll could see beyond them the rest of his war band faltering without their two largest fighters to hold off the enemy. He hardened his grip on his massive axe and bellowed a war cry plunging headlong back into the fray. Today he would gain much power before the battle was done.