Adventurous Spirit

[Belugnir]

Summer 88th 518 AV, 21st Bell, the Wild Lands North of Lake Ravok:

‘’So, granny, you still ‘aven’t told me why yer so hellbent on making it up to the outpost.’’

Einar had just finished his usual routine of constructing a camp site that consisted of a central fire, surrounded by four other, smaller fire pits, each dug an ounce into the ground and fed with deadwood to provide additional vision and mayhaps protection from any horrid buggery that might be lurking about in the night. It had been their fifth day out of Ravok and on his way back to the outpost… and even though far removed from having fully recovered after his encounter with the wolf… namely, he looked somewhat sickly and likely half a dozen years older than he ought to be… Einar still decided to accept some old lady’s request, that of being her escort throughout the wildlands surrounding lake Ravok for the coming week and a half.

‘’Oh, laddie. If only you knew how dull life comes to be when you’ve spent it all dwelling in a corner shop of your hometown, selling off the occasional trinket… Why, of course you don’t. I can tell, I can, you’re a lad who’s seen his fair hunk of the world.’’

The woman was perhaps in her late fifties, a head and a half shorter than Einar and with a slight hunch in her back… yet she was oddly vigorous in her manner of speech… and awfully humble for an old woman who carried herself so well… when compared to most grumpy old ladies Einar had the displeasure of being pursued by after nicking something of theirs as a child… And there it was again.

This granny had an uncanny way of causing his memories of both Sunberth and Sahova to come swarming back whenever he’d talk to her or wonder at how odd of an occasion it would be for someone like this gran to decide to pick up and leave the safety of the Ravok city proper just for the sake of peddling some junk over to the outpost… Aye, that she was, Ravokian, and again, awfully pleasant and kind toward an outsider compared to some of her fellow citizens. Then again, her life largely depended on Einar at the time. He’ll be petched in the arse if this woman wouldn’t become a morsel to the first thing nastier than a squirrel that crossed her path out here…

‘’Aye…’’, Einar said in an almost scoffing voice, remembering his run-ins with Noktals, monstrous undead boars, and by extent, his most recent encounter with a creature whose black hide now hung from his back… certain folk from his home city, let alone some sorcerers from the scores of the Sahovan Nuit, he frankly didn’t even want to recall. ‘’Peachy adventurous life I’ve had, alright.’’, and once again, his body decided to give him a hurtful reminder of just how peachy his life was. It came in the form of a dull headache, as if someone had batted him on the side of the head with a mallet and didn’t crack his skull open in the process. He’d occasionally had those ever since his misuse of Flux some days ago, though their severity had diminished in the recent couple of days, and they were always brief, but still a horrible hazard none the less.

[Belugnir]

‘’You don’t rightly seem to be well, laddie.’’, there was just the appropriate amount of concern in the woman’s voice.

‘’My word, gran, what otherworldly sorcery did ye employ to figure that out?’’

‘’Not the most well-mannered either…’’, the woman scoffed.

‘’Fuckin’ hell, gran…’’, Einar was in the mood for talking about… any sodding thing that didn’t have to do with himself at the time.

Thankfully, the lady seemed to catch on quickly, and wasn’t one for excessive teasing. She’d remain quiet for a brief while as the mercenary grumbled in his seat before speaking up again.

‘’Pray… lad… what was your name again?’’

‘’Einar, gran. That’s the eighth time you ask.’’

‘’Einar... Einar, Ein, then. You never told me why you’d come up to Ravok. You are not from these parts, that much is obvious.’’

‘’I came from Sunberth... originally anyway. Came lookin’ for work.’’, his tone went dim again as he spoke of his home town, and so the old lady decided to remain quiet again.

‘’And you ‘aven’t told me why you wanna leave your… benevolent petchin’ city to meddle about with mercenaries and soldiers knee deep in mud and sticking ye head out to be chomped by cock knows what sort of horrid monstrosity out here in the wilds.’’

To this the old woman gave a shrug at first, as though pondering a proper answer.

‘’Well, I reason you’ll think me silly, but…’’, she trailed off, her eyes set wide to a scene unfolding behind Einar, on the corner where one of his outer fires… Only at her suddenly stiffened lip and at the startled snorts of Finnard and the woman’s two mules who were bound down to a tree trunk near where the two travelers sat did Einar come to turn around, sobered down from his headache, only to see a great shadow bolting back into the edge of the woods, away from the campsite.

[Allassanachassanya]

"Speech"
"Others"

Ssanya awoke from her sleep. She had snatched perhaps a bell of light, restless sleep, before Einar's grumbling voice scratched itself past the defensive fug of sleep and through to her hearing. She pushed herself up onto her elbows from sleeping on the hard ground and rubbed her face with her hands to freshen herself up. She was numb and uncomfortable and distinctly cold, but she could see Belugnir's flickering fire and begrudgingly pulled herself onto her feet to shuffle over to the fire.

She had only known the man a short time, and already his grumbling was grating on her nerves. Never once had she seen him smile. Ssanya supposed it was just the way some people were, and gods knew she wasn't the most cheerful either. How the elderly woman put up with them both, she couldn't understand. Nevertheless, she settled herself down with her face to the fire and her hands reaching, seeking, for the warmth it contained.

Only when she raised her head did she see spot the look on the travellers' faces. The old woman, who Belugnir only seemed to call 'gran', was spooked. Even Einar's expression seemed on edge as he looked at one of the outer fires. Ssanya suddenly keenly felt the distinct lack of weapons in her possession. She wasn't well-versed in fighting, having never had a true lesson, but then she hadn't ever needed to know how to use an iron fang when she had teeth and brawn of her own.

Both of which were no good to her now.

She jerked her head towards the man with a look that asked, What is it? That she had to rely on Belugnir made her feel like shyke, but she had to. There was no other option. Ssanya was alone in the world, without any idea of the nearest city that would accept her and her kind, without any kind of skills to keep her alive in the wilderness. She was not a proficient hunter, even in snake form, and she couldn't trust that she would find much prey when she had no idea where she truly was in relation to anywhere else. She was far from Eyktol, that much was certain, and the temperature that she was surrounded by was not exactly freezing, but she wasn't at all comfortable in it. Summer was drawing to a close, and when Autumn came she doubted she would do well in the frosts. She needed Belugnir... and even though it was a necessity, that thought made her feel queasy.

oocLet me know if I need to change anything.

[Belugnir]

Ein was only half aware of Sanya as she got beside him to warm up at the fire, and had leapt onto his feet in spite of himself, swift to take hold of his poleaxe… both the old woman and the mercenary went giving the tree-line a long stare, and amidst the tension, Einar swiftly became uncomfortably aware of the severe depth of shyke that he’ll be in if they come to be assailed by some horrid skulking monstrosity… Normally he travelled and got by alone, now there were two people with him, women at that, one fairly wrinkled, withered and doubtfully able to outrun a cripple, and the other was a puny lass, nearly two heads shorter than him… likely couldn’t rightly lift and hold a sensible weapon to defend herself with… And then there were their horses and the cargo they had with them…

He tried not to think of his fresh injuries, of the ache of knife cuts under his paddled vest, of the barely healed scar upon his neck… He tried not to remember the horrible difficulty he had with handling a single stray wolf in these forests, of how it took him the unlikely help of his pony and likely shaving a year or two off his lifespan worth of stress and misused Flux… Yet the awareness of how weak and unfit to defend even himself, let alone the lot that dwelt with him would not relent… and in that awareness, Ein swiftly found a source of cold dread…

‘’Gran… did you see what that buggery was?’’, he just barely kept his voice from trembling, while his free hand found its way to Sanya’s shoulder, pulling the girl to her feet and to stand a foot beside him, had she not gotten there on her own already. Einar’s gaze never left the tree line surrounding them, and neither did the old woman’s, who’d also gotten to her feet and began frightfully surveying the dark wood around them…

‘’It looked to me a… I don’t know… a wolf? But larger, much larger… and disfigured somehow…’’, the merchant lady stumbled over her own words, unsheathing a long knife from under her robe… it was apparent to any a fellow with eyes to see that she’d never had to hold a weapon and defend herself from an assailant…

Meanwhile the horses, bound to a fallen tree’s trunk not fifteen feet away kept snorting in their anxiety… Ein would pull Sanya close, leaning his poleaxe upon his shoulder to free his hand just long enough and tuck an old, crude and curved dagger from his belt and tuck its hilt toward the girl to grasp… It was instinct that saw him hand her the weapon… though he did become aware of what he was doing several ticks into the deed itself. And it gave him further pause.

‘’Have my back if you fancy either of us living to see a bed or bath ever again, lass…’’, he would much prefer if he didn’t have to wring her wrist if she got the stupid sort of witty and tried to gut him and run away… yet he hardly knew how to encourage other folk to go about helping him… even though one’s plain survival should be leverage enough in their current predicament…


‘’Fangs of iron will do no good.’’, a horrible, raspy and overwhelming voice came creeping from the dark patch of trees, stood between the two furthermost outer fires Ein had set up… and with a chill of disbelief, the mercenary set his gaze back to the trees, at wits end… Silence would linger a while, before the gasping, creeping chortles of laughter came crawling across the clearing, and the horses begun to grow ever more unsettled.

‘’It is a causeless meddler, a serpent and a murderous child bearing the skin of man. Foul, fouler and foulest your scents are. Be gone. Be gone or be no more.’’, it was an amused hiss that swiftly grew into a furious, threatening snarl.

Ein could only prod a lightly trembling hand forth, pointing the pike of his weapon toward where the voice seemed to originate behind the pitch black among the trees… and awe at the fact that whatever produced it hadn’t already torn the lot of them to shreds… without even realizing, he’d have nudged Anya to stand behind him, and taken a step forth to put himself ahead of the older woman as well... He felt his knees beginning to buckle, and his forehead become damp with cold sweat.

Will I bloody wet meself now too, petch the gods, can a week not go by without this manner of horrid shyke...

A long growl came forth from the trees as the intruders seemed to stand their ground, shaken as they might have been... Frankly, the old woman was pale and speechless, beside herself so much that she didn't know if she could will herself to move at all... And the thing in the dark was not pleased in the least... yet even so, amusement soon echoed upon the nightmarish voice again.

''Why do you linger with man swine and dried wombs?'', the creature teased: ''Can you not bring yourself to wring their necks and roam free?''

At this, Einar began to turn pale as well... what in Sylira was this thing rambling on about... he spared a flicker of his gaze for the old woman, who had her mouth agape in shock... then he would look to Anya again... Before swiftly turning his gaze back to where their obscured lurker lingered...

''What is... that thing jabbering on about?'', he almost whispered to Anya in a voice shaken with dread and confusion... another harrowing chortle crept from the tree lines, as though the beast had heard him.

...And where does a bloody forest freak learn to speak Common, anyway...


WC: 979

[Allassanachassanya]

"Speech"
"Others"

Einar's hand was rough as he grabbed her shoulder and pulled her up to standing, but Ssanya found that her worry was elsewhere. Normally, she would have been trying very hard not to glare at her begrudged owner, but now... Well. Ssanya stared into the gloom of the trees, her nerves becoming undeniably jittery in unison with Einar and the old woman. There was nothing that she could see other than darkness, but the blank, unfamiliarity of the dark was suddenly disturbing.

She listened to the hushed question scratched out by the mercenary, and the woman's fearful reply, all the while beginning to develop a dread of whatever was out there. Ssanya was accustomed to the creatures of the desert, having lived there for many years. She had just started to become accustomed to the weird yet oddly wonderful creatures and surprises that Alvadas had in its arsenal. Yet of Ravok, she had no idea at all. What horrors lurked around the lake city? After all, a lake was excellent protection from the world, but why was it needed? More importantly, why was Einar not more prepared?

They had horses, which were becoming more anxious every tick that went by. They had gear. They even had an old lady to transport wherever the petch she was going; the Dhani woman had never bothered to listen in on the details of their foray into the Lakeshore. Surely, surely, Einar knew about the dangers that lived on the Lakeshore. If he hadn't, then any sensible person would have made sure to seek advice... Wouldn't they? Conveniently, she forgot Mizahar's dangers, forgot the Djed storm and whatever creatures spawned from the Valterrian, those that most mortal men couldn't comprehend. Ssanya was not into forgiveness and sensible thinking, not in her current state. In a more rational time and place she would recognise that the lurking thing out in the wilderness was nobody's fault, but they didn't have the luxury of rationality, nor indeed time, and it was why she steadily began to lay blame after blame on the mercenary's shoulders, albeit in the silence of her own head.

Even his offer of a weapon didn't do much to penetrate the thick fog of irate, depressed gloom that had steadily been settling over her since leaving Madeira, although she accepted it nonetheless, and shifted it about in her hands to get a feel for the curved dagger. And despite a horrible feeling of sweeping loneliness and bitterness, the feel of the dagger in her hand was enough to tamper with the fog and bring a sense of much-needed urgency to the situation.

Ssanya quelled her continuously raging thoughts and tensed. She directed a terse nod in Einar's direction, enough so that he could understand that she didn't plan on taking whatever advantage of the situation that she could. After all, she couldn't survive in the wilderness alone, and no horse would allow her to ride away on it; the animals' senses of smell was stronger than human senses, and she stank of predator.

The voice stopped everything, when it came. Ssanya listened with a thrill of panic shivering down her spine as the rasping tones of the creature wavered into the flickering confines of the camp. Her eyes snapped wide open with shock before she had a chance to reign her emotions in as she heard the word, clear as day, "Serpent". Who else could that mean but her, except how in all of Mizahar could the thing know what she was? Einar moved in front of both her and the woman, but Ssanya stepped so that she came up to the side, just behind, but with a clear view of the broiling darkness, desperately searching to see what lay under and beyond the cover of the trees.

As it continued, it's voice deep and growling and taut as rope coiled around a throat, her horrified look grew more pronounced and defined. Although neither of the other two knew it, Ssanya could feel that it was talking to her. Her, of all people. She could almost cry, if she wasn't so petched up inside. She found herself shaking her head side to side, and stopped herself forcefully before she began to panic. Nothing like that would help, at all.

Instead, as Einar's hushed voice caught in her ears, she darted a look towards the mercenary with the final shakes of her head acting as the answer for him, but of course, it was a lie. The lie was clear in her wide, shocked eyes, and the stubborn set of her jaw. Why didn't she turn and twist their necks, after all? The thought danced almost mockingly across her consciousness. You're more human than Dhani.

She raised her dagger hand up and forwards, pointed it directly into the trees, and shouted with a short, wordless cry of defiance, but she could no longer hold her tongue. She bared her teeth, and hissed loudly and aggressively through stinging lips. She wouldn't be mocked, not on top of slavery, not on top of being taken from everything that she loved, not by some crazed, hiding creature that didn't dare show it's face to them. Sanity fled as she cracked open her voice, and yelled into the gloom.

"Can you not bring yourssself to show yourssself?"

.

[Belugnir]

At Sanya’s taunt there was only a new echo of horrible, bellowing cackles… though they were quickly dismissed for aggravated growls, and the sound of tearing wood was heard from the darkness outside of the trio’s illuminated circle.

Ein’s eyes bolted back to the girl beside him, to her posture sooner than the fact that she’d spoken… and seeing how shaken she was, he would have settled a hand at her shoulder again, with firmer grip now, to make certain she doesn’t do something just as foolish as trying to escape, namely that she wouldn't outright charge the bloody creep in the forest. He hadn’t the mind to spare observing her behavior before she’d spoken up, only noticing her frantic nods and the startled shaking of her head at what he’d told her…

And when she did speak, it was far less shocking to him than it might have been under different circumstances, not to mention that he’d had his doubts about her being a mute to begin with… Regardless, that was far from the current point of concern. Though a brief surprise was apparent in Ein’s expression as he’d turned to look at the girl beside him again… Ein knew naught of the Dhani, and the cause of her hissing was lost on him thus… and that seemed to be the case for the woman who travelled with them. Frankly, she was wholly unassuming of Anya to begin with, not knowing that the girl ought to have been a mute… Yet both the mercenary and the woman came to the thought, at the back of their mind, that whatever their lurker was, it spoke to the girl, seeing just how distressed she was… though they hardly had over a tick to pay attention to the girl who was beside herself, for the beast spoke up again, having taken offence to the little one’s words, apparently…

‘’Light and Cinder…’’, it growled ‘‘Light and Cinder! Vile scourges did you carry into my woods. Defilers be gone! Be gone!’’

Another mocking chortle almost interrupted the wrathful fit…

‘’Child-hunter, murderer.’’, the voice snorted… and Einar found himself called out. He could feel that the thing was referring to him. ‘’You dare walk these woods clothed in the skin of children you have slain…’’, there was pride offended within the creature’s writhing voice… and Ein’s free hand came to grip at the clasp that held his mantle of blackened wolf hide bound about his shoulders… And the voice shifted yet again from menacing to taunting and lecturing with excessive malice.

‘’And ‘ere you—‘’

‘’Will you shut your snout already!?”, Einar snarled back at the creature, producing a vulgar attempt at imitating the creature’s tone of speech. Anya was not the only one on the edge of a furious fit. And while Ein had no severe toils of the spirit to repress, he’d been through far too much shyke in the last two weeks alone to afford himself patience for excessive fear. Whatever this monster was, it was far too talkative and seemed far too cautious and eager to bicker than any proper dangerous beast ought to be… at least that’s what Einar told himself as he almost leapt back a step to pull one of the thickest burning logs from the fire with his gloved hand, and without letting the thing linger in his hand for over a tick, he flung it toward the tree line between the two outer fires… It revealed the fiery amber of two slit eyes and the glint of fangs shining a pale cyan light, embedded in a maw of black mane, yet with a horrible growl and hiss, and a shadowy blur, the beginnings of their stalker’s visage vanished again, retreating back into the darkness… and this act encouraged Einar far more than it should have.

‘’I’ll give ye cockin’ light and cinder, you bloody skunk. I’ll set this whole petchin’ forest ablaze and make carpets of all the wolves that I find dead among the ashes!’’, the mercenary had as much bicker and nonsense to pour out as the beast did... yet he overestimated himself far too heavily. He wasn’t matching words nor arms against a decadent Sahovan apprentice, or some back alley mugger… ‘’I’ll…’’

‘’YOU WOULD THREATEN ME!?’’, the creature bellowed harrowingly, making its previous retorts seem as whimpers by comparison, and at the echo of its ear piercing yell, the five fires burning within their campsite seemed to dim down, the horses began to prance and screech against their binds… and the old woman fell down in her fright, barely managing to sit herself up, unable to rightly move and pale as a ghost…

Yet the moment of overwhelming horror passed, and Einar, though shaken, managed to keep himself on top of his feet still, as hunched as his posture had become under the weight of sudden, revoked fear... Yet the creature did not advance to attack them... Instead there was low panting growls and the rustle of leaves as it seemed to begin and circle the illuminated clearing... and the fires still stood burning.

''Charred and Embered. Be gone... be gone...'', it growled... for a moment it seemed as though it were pleading through its hateful snarls.

Ein lowered himself to shake the old woman out of her trance.

''Petch the gods, gran, get a hold of yourself...'', hap hazardly did his eyes swap between the dark forest and the shocked woman beside him, before he'd finally turned to the lass again... one of the outer fires at the opposite side of the camp was on the verge of dying out.

''Anya, my backpack, there's a bottle of lantern oil in there, get it quick.'', he barked with urgency, realizing why they hadn't been turned into micemeat yet. ''Whoreson's afraid of fire!''

''Cinders be gone, be gone!'', the crazed whisper kept echoing as the monster that produced it began to near the withering fire.

''Come on, gran, snap out of it... petch sake...'', if they were to make it out of this shyke hole alive he needed everyone to have their wits about them... and if he did make it out of the woods with letting something happen to the old woman it wouldn't be long before some smart twat realized he was responsible for loosing Ravok one of its oh so priviliged citizens...


WC: 1062

[Allassanachassanya]

"Speech"
"Others"

Her brief moment of madness subsided, and in the wake there could only be heard snarling and the tearing of shrubbery. Ssanya clenched the dagger in her hand and breathed in deep lungfuls of air. Why the petch did she antagonise it? The beast could be anything, anything at all, and she was taunting it? It was a stupid idea, made even stupider by the fact that she was supposed to be a mute. She sneaked a gaze at Belugnir, but the hardy mercenary didn't seem surprised by her sudden welcome into the world of speech, and neither did the elderly woman who was keeping silent at the back, her eyes wide and staring into the gloom, just like they were.

The creature began to talk further, though its voice was unnatural and fierce, laced with derision towards the persons occupying the camp. Yet, although it didn't seem possible, at Belugnir's retort the voice boomed more fearfully than any previous taunt and several things happened in a short space of time. Ssanya's heart was beating in overdrive at the yell from the gloom, with her knuckles stretched white as she gripped the hilt of the dagger in her hand. The old woman's face grew white with fear and she stumbled down to the ground. Ssanya watched with a grim face as Belugnir hurried to help her up, cursing quietly in his broad, coarse voice the whole while.

It took a tick, if that, for Ssanya to realise he had ordered her to get something. Lantern oil. Immediately she started to scan the camp, searching for the mercenary's backpack, which would surely be lying close by. Her breathing was short and sharp and her eyes were flicking around wildly, trying to search and keep an eye on their surroundings at the same time. Rather than being helpful, it took her longer than it should have done to find the backpack, tucked just inside the flap of the tent, but eventually she did. She rummaged unseeing within and drew out the bottle of oil.

She hurried back to the man and thrust the bottle towards him, then turned her attention back to the perimeter. To her horror, the skulking creature was almost visible as it weaved its way around their campfires. Occasionally she could see it, a dark-black shape against an ash grey backdrop, and her heart sunk at the sight of it. The monster was huge, bigger than she was expecting. If it attacked them, or rather when, she could probably stab it, but not before it got to her. However, if she could change into her Dhani form, she would be in with a fighting chance. Was it worth the long-term risk, to give them all a little extra as opposed to her fragile human form? Ssanya bleakly thought that she could either die in this place, or die later at the hands of the guards, but she was facing uncertainty and pain either way.

"Be gone, be gone!" It repeated it's mantra. Ssanya cast a worried glance to Belugnir, but it seemed pointless to pretend to be mute in such a circumstance, so she said, "What do you plan, Belugnir? We cannot burn everything, but if it'sss afraid of fire we should sssset fire, and quick." Then, though she steeled herself for the disgust and betrayal that was sure to come, she decided to warn the man about her changing states. At least, she got as far as, "Do not be alarmed if there isss fighting, and..,-" before, "The horsssess." One of the horses whinnied nervously and the creature cackled in response, closer than she would have liked. The sound was so strange that even the horse picked up on it, and only strained harder against its halter, obviously hoping to run. Ssanya's presence wouldn't help the horse, so instead of running out to the edge of the camp to still them, she could only internally will them to be calm.

[Belugnir]

The old woman was barely budging… Though she did nod and whimper the attempt of a sentence at Einar’s mention of the beast’s fright at flame… and soon the mercenary had to abandon trying to reason with his shocked charge as Sanya brought him the flask of oil, and three halves of a warning…

One rushed tear of a knife away, and Einar had torn off a long rag from the bottom of the old woman’s garb, and was quickly coiling it around its length. He spared no time to look up at the outline of the hulking shadow that stalked them, he’d only heard the rustle of leaves and tearing of branches in the distance as the creature moved… and it drove him to work with grit teeth, doing his best to ignore the rising aches in the left side of his torso, where many fresh injuries lingered, barely healed.

He’d doused one end of the rag in oil, chucked the first pebble he got his hand on into it, and tied a fat, heavy knot about the stone. And, gripping the other, loose end, with his right hand, he’d turned the thing into the world’s poorest excuse for a flail. In a haste of struggling panic and anger, he’d spilt a hearty deal of the oil across the blade end of his poleaxe as well, and in another moment, he'd stuck the doused weapons into the central campfire, only for the brief while it took the oil to ignite.

‘’There’s only so much I’ll need to burn… Try to keep gran’s wits about her…’’, it was obvious that Ein didn’t expect much of either of the women, and it was equally obvious that he wasn’t overly fond of shouldering the burden ahead by his lonesome. Yet it was do or die.

At Sanya’s remark of the horses, Einar was already on his way. Flaming flail and axe in hand. He felt a chill in his back as the monster kept hissing its disdain for the firelight.

‘’Be gone… Be gone!’’, there was a tortured echo to its harrowing chants.

‘’And why don’t ye listen to ye own bloody advice, and sod off, noisy twat?!’’, coming to stand half a dozen feet in front of his frightened mountain pony, intercepting the beastly shade’s creeping approach from the trees, Ein swung the burning rag at the tree line… it was a pathetic means of keeping the monster at a distance, he felt as though it would be something a child would have put together on the spot if caught in his shoes… Regardless, the brief visit of firelight revealed a sight that made his blood turn cold. A horrendous abomination of a wolf, sporting an icicle filled maw as long as his forearm, and two pairs of eyes that now shone with hateful frost… all of it clothed with a smoldering hide of shadowy fur…

Yet at the sudden whip of flame, the unsightly beast bolted back into the deeper shadows… And the frost of dread lifted from Einar again.

‘’Are ye plannin’ to bloody keep skulking all night long, chickenshyke?! I’ve a mind to get some shuteye tonight.’’, he taunted the monster, beyond all reason… with a crack of laughter in his voice. He was sick and tired of all the Stryfers he’d had to deal with and all of their cryptic horseshyke. This beast reminded him of the buggers way too much. And frankly. He wanted to get this whole bloody ordeal over with, be it his life or the monster’s done with. ‘’Get on with it, cub.’’

There was silence, before a long breath rolled across the forest floor, like a serrated razor upon the ears. Cold and threatening.

‘’Sleep you shall. Childslayer. Cinderfiend. And your serpent and beast of burden beside you. Sleep you shall in frost cloaked… Ever shall deep, cold mud be your cradle.’’

‘’Petch me, you’ve a gob to match the cheapest pep talk whore.’’, Ein just barely managed to keep his voice from shaking like a frightened child’s, hiding fright behind a forced snort of laughter.

The silence that followed would see no bickering interrupting it… And for the first time since he could remember, Einar was truly afraid, he could feel the bones of his feet shaking in their boots at the thought of that horrid creature charging his way… Memories went to the monsters of Sahova, to all the men he’d fought, killed and lost to… To the market square in the Sunberthian slums and the man tied to a long pole under a barrage of stones thrown by a maddened mob… And yet none of it compared.


I have conquered worse. Bracing against desperation, he convinced himself with a shattered sigh.

And then the beast came bolting forth, bursting from the shadows of the forest. If anything, Ein may have just unnerved it enough for it to attack sooner than it would have done otherwise.

An exasperated swing of the burning cloth came, though its strike clean upon the monster’s cheek caused the creature to stagger and rear its head sideways in sudden fright and pain at the burning light, it did not halt its relentless charge. But it blinded it just enough to be unable to swat the poleaxe Einar had thrust forth in its wake.

Einar had no reflex and no time required to sidestep the charge, and he had less idea how the beast’s weight, pressed upon the tip of his polearm as it became impaled didn’t outright tear the weapon from his hands and send him flying. Still, he’d quickly found himself dragged upon the ground with the demon wolf’s momentum, holding with both hands on to the handle of his weapon, its searing tip having jammed itself between the monster’s ribs. If anything, he’d averted the creature’s advance toward the horses.

Now the charge had stopped, and the wolf began to trash about maddeningly, a wound of searing steel in its chest took away whatever resemblance of intellect the creature had, and now, in a constant state of untellable pain, it gave every effort to claw Einar from underneath itself and eviscerate him. Thankfully for the mercenary, there creature could only reach so far, and he could keep hindering its attempts by shoving the weapon further, keeping it a hair away from tearing his head clean off…

Yet this could only last for so long. Einar was in a daze from having been tossed and dragged about like a ragdoll, his vision was blurry, and underneath his armor, he could feel his clothing turning wet with blood. At least one of his recent wounds had torn and opened up again.

What ensued was a horrible struggle of the two over the death of the other. And what seemed like a chaotic choir of inhumane grunts, ample in desperation. It was a fool’s errand to determine whether Einar or the beast sounded more monstrous.

[Allassanachassanya]

"Speech"
"Others"

It all happened in a flash, and Ssanya reared back from the danger as best she could. The wolven creature was impaled on Einar's weapon, and the two thrashed on the ground in an unspeakably violent and yet undignified sight. There was no flashy showmanship of swords and armour, the kind of story one might hear about Syliras. There was no cloak and dagger, no neat nips and thrusts of shiny weapons and then a victorious young man winning over the danger. Their battle was ugly and vicious, and Ssanya was deeply, deeply worried.

The dagger, although wicked-looking, was almost useless in her hands. Regardless of whether or not she could approach and stab the thing in the back, she didn't think it would do much in the way of damage. It was already pierced and still it struggled with as much violence as it had approached with.

Ssanya shot a quick glance at the elderly woman, just to check she was alright. She was away enough from the commotion to not be in any danger..- unless, that was, they both died in the fight. She hoped to all the gods that Einar was stronger than that. She would have to believe in him, if not in herself.

With disgust and rising frustration and anger over the impending sense that she couldn't escape transforming (but also so desperately wanting to shift into her Dhani form, for the power and control it gave her), she flung the dagger to the ground and rushed to tear her clothes off so as not to damage her only good set.

She breathed in deep, and slid into the change as easily as an exhale. Once she was done, blocking out anything going on around her, she was huge. She was Dhani, and by Siku she was going to fight. Consequences would have to come later.

The great snake woman bound forwards to the tumble of black fur and roughed up man that struggled together in the mess that was their camp. She felt strong, the muscles in her legs, the venom in her jaw...

Ssanya couldn't tell what state Einar was in. Through the sweat blurring her eyes from the sprint forwards, it was hard to see anything except her target. The wolf-like creature had a kind of neck, and she targeted it as she reached forwards and wrapped her arms around the struggling creature. To her shock and surprising surge of anger, the animal was strong, stronger than she'd anticipated. Perhaps she had also misjudged her own skill and strength. Perhaps.

Either way, she tried to drag it off Einar, adding her own loud hissing to the chaotic language of the life and death struggle. Her efforts seemed to have worked to some extent. The creature, if anything, had realised that it had another opponent other than the mercenary. Ssanya's mouth opened in a maw of teeth, and she lunged to bite the creature in a great, tearing arc. Yet, in doing so, a great pain flicked against her side, and to her detached surprise she saw the monster's ragged claws extracting from the ragged wound it had left. The pain surged up throughout her body, and she could only hope that the creature had been distracted enough for Einar to do something.

[Belugnir]

Ein had no mind to pay to the fact that it wasn't by merits of his own strength that the monster's body and its two pairs of clawing forelegs were lifted away. Feverish from the strain of the past two weeks catching up with him, fueled on by sheer hateful spite, Ein got up to his feet, only half aware of the movements his body made. He tore his smoldering weapon from the wretched hound's chest, and with a crazed downward swing, tore the bent axeblade into the shoulder of the creature's right fore limb, the one with which it had torn into Anya's side... not that his blurred sight made note of her presence or her... state to begin with.

The wolf was mighty, mightier than either Man or Dhani ought to have the right to contest. Yet its searing wounds and the firelight with which it stood surrounded sapped its strength, and though it was likely past the notice of its foes, the coat of shade that stuck to the beast's fur had slowly began to melt away, taking the beast's unbound prowess with itself. And so the wolf remained, yelping and clawing helplessly in the Dhani's choke hold as Einar hewed and lopped off one of its legs, arms, whatever the cock it was.

The fire burning at the edge of the axe's blade had quenched itself cold in the beast's icy blood, yet another altogether different flame still threatened the wolf. The cold air night air felt belike razors in his throat. Ein's chest heaved, his breath heavy and steaming hot with his own blood. Nay, there was nothing glorious or noble to be seen.

Ein broke out a horrible grin as he'd leveled his weapon with the battered wolf's head. Slowly was the steel pike of his poleaxe, still hot to the touch from the flames that licked it, slid into the restrained beast's eye, his own face following close behind, salivating with self satisfied spite. And as he listened to the beast's pained howls, Ein's bated breath broke down and crackled into maddened snickering. He was a frightful thing to behold, more so than their assailant was at the moment, that was for certain.

How's that to spark your attention, filthy whoreson?

''Ha....haaa...''

Ein would be sobered from his sadistic battle fever, however, for while the creature was weakened and wounded it was that very pain and desperation that drove it to a desperate burst of strength with which it'd tear itself away from the wounded Dhani's embrace, shoving away the unexpecting, crazed mercenary, nearly trampling him as it bolted, squealing, back into the shadows of the forest.

The handle of his poleaxe was broken, its blade and pike twisted and bent. He laid upon his back, feeling as though there were a boulder pressed down upon each of his individual limbs. The hysterical strength and endurance of men driven over the edge was quick to fade without a continued threat to focus it upon, and so Ein was left with a twitching jaw and swiftly paling complexion. It would have taken a while, before a feverish tremble, accompanied the mercenary bringing himself up into a hunched seat, tiredly casting a gaze upon Anya. Frankly, he knew nothing of the Dhani, and he'd hardly had the attention to spare to the fact that the girl had turned into some were-beast in the midst of his struggle with the shadowy assailant, and his vision remained blurred upon the corners.

Had the sight of a humongous snake woman caught him, Ein would simply fall backwards upon the ground again, a weak, helpless laughter upon his breath, for he had no strength left to fight this night.

Yet were he greeted with the sight of a bare, wounded lass, he would force himself to remain as straight-backed as he could. ''...Anya... what'd you do?''


WC: 647