Orsa

Orsa ran his hand through his thick yellow hair, sweeping it back from his eyes.

The Hawk Eternal Gemmell, David 1995

I will spare Orsa the Baresark, for he has no ambition, and despite his frenzy in battle, carries no hate.

The Hawk Eternal Gemmell, David 1995

Even before they were clear Orsa shifted the weight to his right hand, dipped his shoulder and hurled the sphere into the air.

The Hawk Eternal Gemmell, David 1995

'He was a man,' said Orsa, turning and pushing his way through the throng.

The Hawk Eternal Gemmell, David 1995

Drada and Ongist watched with scant interest as the men took their turns until, at last, Orsa stripped himself of his shirt and stood grinning by the stake.

The Hawk Eternal Gemmell, David 1995

The entire crowd thronged the central field where Lennox and Orsa battled for the Whorl Trophy, awarded to the strongest man of the mountains.

The Hawk Eternal Gemmell, David 1995

This time Lennox hit him with both hands, but a wildly swinging punch from Orsa exploded against his ear.

The Hawk Eternal Gemmell, David 1995

Orsa was in his late twenties, a seasoned warrior who had never been beaten and never would be.

The Hawk Eternal Gemmell, David 1995

The speed of the rush carried Orsa on, flying headlong over his opponent to crash into the crowd beyond the circle.

The Hawk Eternal Gemmell, David 1995

Lastly there was Orsa the Baresark, dim-witted and dull, but in battle a terrible opponent who screeched with laughter as he slew.

The Hawk Eternal Gemmell, David 1995