Inspired by: Tamaris, Huntress of Thuldonia

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: The Imaginarium

Inspired by: A series of stand-alone Dark Fantasy short stories inspired by the art of Frank Frazetta.
Tamaris, the Huntress of Thuldonia.

 

 

Tamaris, Huntress of Thuldonia

 

To the north lies the snow-peaked tops of the Blue Mountains. Before it, the grassy tundra of Thuldonia stretches out as far as the eye can see. home to many savage clans. One such clan is the Lion people. So named, because they have tamed the wild tundra cats and use them for hunting the striped horses and wildebeest, and many other creatures that roam the grasslands.

 

These great cats are not just used for hunting...No! They are also used to protect the clans’ people. For there are beasts and devils aplenty out there in the wilderness, eager to satiate their hunger upon the clans’ folk.

None of these creatures are more terrifying and dangerous than the Groll; mountain giants that live on the craggy peaks. They are a primal solitary creature, that has an insatiable hunger, driving them to constantly forage for food. They are also cannibals and will kill and eat their own kind if they cannot find any food sources. It is said that they will even bite chunks out of their own flesh if their insatiable appetite is not appeased.

It is with this eternal hunger that the Groll will often venture down from their rocky lairs in search of food on the tundra. Indeed, it was just an occasion like this, that spawns this sad tale about a young huntress, set on a trail of revenge.

Tamaris had been hunting out on the plain. Her children were fishing by a stream. They had woven a net from reeds, hoping to catch some of the large silverfish that splashed and swam in its clear, cool waters.

 Tamaris had returned to where her children played, only to find their net laying unattended on the bank. A single small moccasin lay in the mud next to a large humanoid footprint...

Tamaris’s gut tightened, her heart beat faster with sheer terror, for she knew instantly that the muddy footprint belonged to a Groll. She threw her head back, her long black hair whipped around in the tundra breeze as she shouted her children’s names out. Her desperate cries of grief died on the wind, unanswered.

She gritted her teeth and picked up the tiny moccasin in trembling hand and dangled it in front of her great cat's wedge-shaped noses. Norgor and Grala sniffed the moccasin, taking in the familiar scent of their Mistress’s cubs. They let out a throaty growl.

‘Tooshalla magita!’ Tamaris snarled.

The cats growled and took off across the plain on the scent trail, with their Mistress following at their side, keeping stride with them.

 

*****

She found the Groll sitting amongst the crags, cracking open the bones of her dead children and sucking out their marrow.

Her heart froze, turning to glacial ice.

Ravtor!’ her growl almost mimicked the lion's own throaty rumblings.

Her pets sprang into action, leaping silently from the boulders onto the Groll's hunched back; their claws sank into its thick reptilian-like hide, rending it into bloody strips.

The groll roared and flailed around, its long apish arms tried desperately to dislodge Norgor from its broad back.

The lion dug its claws in. Streams of groll blood poured from its shredded flesh, as thick as tree-sap.

Grala attacked, his mighty jaws clamped onto the Groll's left leg, biting it down to the bone. The groll bellowed and crashed to its knees.

Tamaris stepped forward, snarling like a she-cat. In her hand she held a stone axe; she swung it in both hands. The axe smashed into the groll’s thick, sloping forehead. There was a loud cracking of bone. The groll grunted, its red eyes rolled in its sockets. It slumped over, unconscious.

 

*****

The full moon cast a chilling, silver light, down across the mountains. Tamaris had lit a campfire, her great cats lay stretched out soaking up the warmth, and purring loudly. She walked over to the groll, lifted her deerskin kilt, squatted over its head, and emptied her bladder over its monstrous face. 

The groll groaned and shook its head, its red eyes opened; its long, thick black tongue, licked its wetted lips. It tried to sit up but couldn’t. It moaned with pain. Tamaris had slit the tendons in its back and limbs, leaving only one arm working. The creature could not move, it was paralyzed, helpless, and at her mercy...

 

The giant monster, eater of children, mewled like a wounded calf. Tamaris walked the length of its body in twelve strides, stopping at its large leathery feet. Raising her axe she hacked off one of its feet.

The groll roared in pain. Tamaris took a burning stick from the fire and pushed it against its weeping stump, cauterizing the wound.

The groll roared again, it gnashed its sharp teeth. Ochre Saliva, bubbled from its mouth. The smell of fresh blood, even its own, drove it mad with hunger...

Tamaris picked up the severed foot and dropped it within reach of the giant’s huge, grasping hand. The groll snatched it up, sniffed it, its red eyes rolled in its sockets, saliva dripped from the corners of its twisted mouth, and then its lips peeled back from its sharp crocodile teeth, as it thrust its own foot into its mouth, and began eating it.

Tamaris smiled coldly... she had a bloody, vengeful plan...

During the long night, Tamaris went to her grisly work; her camp was filled with terrible cries of pain and the heady smell of burning flesh, as she slowly dismembered the groll, and fed its own severed body parts to it.

First, she cut off its feet, and then its calves, next, its thighs and sweetbreads...

The Groll's pitiful puling and crying would be a madness-inducing song, for any who would have endured it... Not Tamaris. The pitiful cries went unheard to her ears... For dancing before her cold eyes, her children laughed and played amongst the long tundra grass, jumping onto the backs of her lions, and riding them across the heather fields... The Groll and its suffering were nothing to her, compared to these golden memories...

All of its own, bloody, dripping parts, the groll consumed, voraciously, its never-ending hunger, its driving force, was insatiable, as it gorged itself. Its stomach swelled like a pregnant belly, until it could hold, no more. It turned its huge lumpy head to one side and vomited out its own consumed flesh, and that of Tamaris’s children.

The smell was thick and sour. The great cats moved away from the vile stench. Tamaris fought the urge to vomit, herself... In amongst its regurgitation, a mass of finger-thick worms writhed. Perhaps these parasites were the cause of the Groll's all-consuming hunger?

The groll just moaned and licked its soiled lips.

Tamaris looked at the vile creature. Its limbs were gone, just red sore glistening, bloody stumps, and its torso remained. She took her knife and slit its abdomen open, and reached inside. The stink had her gagging. She scooped up its slimy guts and pulled them out and dragged them to its grasping hand.

The groll groaned and wriggled like a giant loathsome maggot, and then scooped up its own guts and sucked them up into its mouth. Chewing on them, it groaned in agony with every, chomping bite.

The sky was starting to lighten; the campfire was burning down...

Norgor stood up and growled in warning.

Tamaris looked around, her ears pricked up. She heard them coming... Groll, drawn by the smell of freshly spilled blood. A landslide of loose stones trickled down the side of the ridge.

Tamaris picked up her weapons, and moved to a safe distance, hiding behind a large boulder, and watched, as three groll loped into the campsite.

They pushed and shoved one another. Saliva dripped from their twisted mouths, and then they fell upon the pitiful, dismembered Groll, sinking their cannibal teeth into it, and tearing its flesh from its bones, devouring what was left of the vile creature that screamed and writhed under their ripping bites...

Tamaris watched until the Groll's skull was cracked open with a rock, and its vile grey brain was scooped out and eaten. Satisfied that her vengeance was complete, she slinked off with her cats, making her way down the mountainside, back to the grassy plains, back to her tribal lands, clutching her children’s necklaces tightly in her blood-stained hand, and tears in her eyes...

 

The End

 


Submitted: May 05, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Celtic-Scribe63. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:

Comments

AdamCarlton

A neat take on the legend of ouroboros. This tale of unrelenting torment must have been an emotion-packed experience to write.

Wed, May 5th, 2021 2:15pm

Author
Reply

I found it quite fun :) Not as bloody as I envisioned it, but who knows! Some rereads and editing in future might bring it into line. Lol
Thanks for the read
CS63

Wed, May 5th, 2021 8:01am

Sharief Hendricks

CS63 you never disappoint !!

What a gory action packed limb ripping adventure you dreamt up.

Tamaris is as brave and fearless as they come...somehow I knew she would get her revenge and it wasn't going to be pretty.

I have to admit you had me squirming at the groll vomit and when Tamaris made him eat his guts, it was a lot to swallow (pun intended) LOL...

I love your style of writing that just draws me in and keeps me on my toes...

Loved it !


Mon, June 14th, 2021 12:29pm

Author
Reply

Thanks so much for your great comments.

You seem to be enjoying my 'inspired by' series.

I wanted to make this one truly gut-wrenching. I think I hit the mark with it.

With kind regards
CS63

Mon, June 14th, 2021 7:55am

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