Stalking the Beast

by Howard Andrew Jones

The speaker was unusually brief for an elf. Drelm didn't like taking orders from those outside the chain of his command. He was still weighing his choices when Melloc spoke out.

  "This is no orc," the youth declared, "but a man, the captain of the Delgar city guard. He is pledged to the daughter of the lord mayor, my sister."

  Drelm was pleased with the boy's courage. A lot of veterans didn't have the stones to face hostile warriors with leveled arrows, and those that did might have sounded a little more worried.

  The leader's amber-flecked brown eyes flicked briefly to Drelm, then back to the boy. Neither he nor his companions looked likely to lower their weapons, and the one on the right pulled his bowstring further back.

  To Drelm, most male elves looked fairly similar. Upon closer scrutiny, though, he observed that the one who addressed them had a slim scar along the edge of his nose.

  "We came to help," Melloc insisted. "But if you slay us, you kill the heir to Delgar and his future brother."

  "Kyonin cares nothing about anyone in your festering dungheap of a village," the elf said, icily. "Drop, or die. I will bandy no more words with you."

  "Kyonin may not care, but I do." Elyana's voice came calmly from behind the rank of elves. "Do not turn," she said swiftly, then lapsed into the elven tongue.

  Scar Nose, all but gnashing his teeth, held a quick, sharp speech with the woman he could not see, then lowered his weapon and, saying something to his companions, stepped to the side. Each of them kept their arrows nocked, though the weapons were no longer trained upon Drelm and Melloc.

  Elyana strode out from the trees, her own bow held almost carelessly. When the lead elf addressed her, she cut him off abruptly.

  "Speak Taldane. The boy wears no tabard because it was destroyed in a fight with a sorcerer. And you can see Captain Drelm's. Surely elves of the Kyonin border patrol know of the half-orc in Delgar's service." It was not so much a question as an insult.

  The leader's head rose; slim nostrils flared, and then he returned his arrow to its quiver in one swift motion.

  "You must be Elyana Sadrastis," he said, coolly. "I have heard tales of you, and the...half-orc with whom you ride. I am Captain Illidian. You must pardon our manner, cousin. We did not return in time to aid our friends, and found these two bent over their bodies."

  Elyana didn't look as if she felt particularly like pardoning anyone. She whistled, and Calda trotted around the trees, ears high. "Don't stand talking," Elyana told Illidian. "Don't you want to find what did this?"

  Illidian turned to his companions and, after a few rapid-fire elven words, they deployed to left and right and took up posts. At a few more phrases, Elyana's brows rose in stunned disbelief. "What of tracks near the bodies?"

  Drelm was wondering the same thing. He again bent down beside the blood-spattered warrior at his feet. There was no missing the huge, splay-foot lizardlike tracks, complete with clawed toes. "Whatever did it can't have gone far."

  Illidian's mouth tightened as he returned to speaking a formally accented Taldane. "We aren't fools. The beast seems capable of appearing and disappearing at will. It may be miles away at this time."

  Drelm directed Melloc to examine the bodies closer to the boats, and the young man hurried to comply. His horse was jittery around the smell of blood, and resisted as Melloc led him by the reins.

  Drelm stared down at the bugler. The lower third of the elf's body had been pressed down by a great weight, and his clothes were saturated with internal juices. Insects already swarmed over him, attracted by the foul smell. Drelm's stomach was practically iron, but even he found the sight disquieting. He turned to Illidian before tracing out another large depression in the grass. Was this the sign of a long, heavy tail? "What kind of beast is it?"

  "No one's ever seen it," Illidian replied, "because it seems to be invisible. It does leave tracks, almost as if it wants to be followed, and then disappears."

  "And it doesn't eat," Drelm pointed out. He turned from his consideration of the corpse with the horn and looked around at all the dead elves. None of the four had been so much as nibbled. The bugler looked as though his chest had been seared with something not too dissimilar from the effects of Onderan's magical wand, just a little larger.

  Down by the boats, Melloc stared at a body that had been torn nearly in half.

  "You tracked it here?" Elyana asked Illidian.

  "I can't believe you haven't heard of the thing. It's been raiding up and down the River Kingdoms lands for the last weeks. We found its fresh tracks near the riverbank on the Kyonin side, then searched the north bank until we saw where it had come out."

  Elyana paced away from him, then knelt by one of the ash trees on the edge of the small line of woods.

  "What is it?" Drelm joined her.

  Elyana pointed to the ground, where the half-orc saw the passage of something weighty into the woods via smashed tree limbs and squashed bushes. In the detritus were a muddle of marks, two or three of them showing a reptilian print wider across than a good-sized ale barrel.

  "The thing's moving slowly east," Illidian went on. "It's been seen in Tymon, and there have been attacks in Lambreth and the Sevenarches as well, and a bold assault against one of our patrol outposts. If it keeps moving west, Riverton or your Delgar are next. It tends to level structures in its path."

  Drelm turned back to the elf. "What do you mean by ‘level?'"

  "It brings down buildings and kills everyone inside," Illidian replied curtly. "It's mostly impervious to damage, although sometimes a lucky arrow or blade can find a mark. When it returns, it always seems completely recovered."

  Drelm frowned at the thought of this. "And you think it's moving toward Delgar? How do you know?"

  "I can't know, for certain." The elf's jaw tightened grimly. "But the line of its wanton ruin runs in that direction." Illidian turned away, and Drelm understood suddenly that the elf was troubled by the bodies of his men. With that realization, he knew a sudden pang of sympathy.

  "I do not have a shovel," Drelm told him, "but if you have extras, I'll help you dig."

  Illidian eyed him in surprise. "That is kind of you." His voice was strained. "But we will transport their bodies to Kyonin for our funeral rites."

  Elyana was still bent over the marks, and called back to them. "It looks as though it has a tail."

  Illidian nodded once. "It has four feet, with clawed toes, and a long, tapering tail that it doesn't always drag behind it. I estimate that it must stretch at least five horse lengths. Its maw is huge—it can cut a man, or a horse, in half with a single bite. And it has two grasping appendages in front. I spoke with a survivor of an attack who described snakelike movements."

  Drelm was confused by his meaning. "It sounds more like a lizard. A big lizard. Not a snake."

  "I refer to the fore appendages," Illidian's tone was curt, as though he were explaining matters to a simpleton. "They may be tentacles. It is hard to say, since no one's actually seen the thing."

  "So it's no kind of natural beast then," Melloc volunteered.

  Illidian's look was scathing, and Melloc's cheeks flushed. "It's invisible," Illidian repeated.

  "It kills for sport," Drelm added. Few natural animals killed for sport, even those with a taint of sorcery.

  "Is it some kind of dragon?" Melloc asked quietly.

  "No." Elyana stood at last. "It is no dragon." She took in the ground to the right, then left. "Drelm," she said, "if what Illidian's saying is true—"

  "You think I would lie?" Illidian's eyes narrowed. "My kinsman are slain, and you think—"

  Elyana cut him off. "If his account is accurate the thing must still be close."

  "I told you," Illidian insisted, "it comes and goes as it pleases."

  "But how far does it go, Captain?" Elyana asked. "You said you followed it. It lured some of you away, am I correct?"

  "You are."

  "And then attacked, here, when half of you were deep into this stand of woods. It deliberat
ely separated you, then vanished once more. Suppose that it's watching now? It was surely watching before."

  "That's why my soldiers stand watch."

  "It sounds as though this thing's a threat to all of us," Melloc ventured quietly. "Has anyone thought we might do better if we were to join forces? Hunt it down?"

  Illidian looked at Melloc as if noticing him for the first time. "It's easier to herd fish than to loose the River Kingdoms at the same quarry."

  "But you do think it worthy of consideration?" Melloc asked. "My father is a man of reason. I'm sure he would welcome—"

  Melloc was saying more, but at Calda's whinny Drelm turned to the woods.

  Elyana whirled, arrow nocked to her bow. "It's here!"

  Drelm ripped one of his throwing axes free and perceived the sway of branches where there was no wind, just to the left of the tracks Elyana had been examining.

  Elyana launched an arrow into the emptiness beside the bending branches. A second and third winged after as Illidian's sentries came running.

  But the arrows only clattered from the side of some huge unseen object. Elyana cursed and shouted for blades.

  Drelm launched his axe, his teeth bared in a grin that displayed his lower canines. For all that he strove for balance, Drelm never questioned a righteous battle, and this was surely one of them.

  His axe stuck in something at roughly head height, and then blood sprayed forth to dye scales hung in midair a deep scarlet. Whatever the invisible beast was came on swift feet. The thing's tread was silent, but the ground rocked as its bulk raced forward.

  Drelm slapped Charger's haunch to send him galloping to safety, then took up his battleaxe and rushed the monster with a savage cry. He was awash with the joy of battle, and he grinned to find Melloc beside him with bared sword.

  He kept track of the monster's approach by his axe, which seemed to be floating above the bloody scales. Just as the axe drew within striking range, a great weight slammed into his side and sent him flying. When he landed on his back it did not feel terribly different from the time he'd hit the street from two stories up.

  He immediately pushed up on his arms, though his head reeled. The battle continued, with three of the elves firing. Elyana was in the saddle and galloping forward, blade raised.

  The creature had moved out from the foliage, a fact evident from the axe and bloody spot still suspended in the air. Of Melloc there was no sign, but Illidian, enraged or a little crazy, chopped at some invisible force lifting a struggling elf into the air. Another elf, just to the right of Elyana's mount, was sheared suddenly in half so that his legs and an arm holding a bow went one way and the rest of him hung momentarily suspended—within the great, invisible mouth, Drelm, supposed—then was expelled onto the grassy sward.

  Elyana's sword carved a long line of blood along the thing's flank as Calda galloped under her.

  Still staggered, Drelm climbed to his feet. His battleaxe lay three yards distant, but he laid hands to his second throwing axe and let fly, only to see it sail harmlessly into space.

  The beast appeared to be moving, and though the ground was shifting under something weighty, Drelm had no idea where it moved until Illidian shouted in pain and dropped, writhing, his right arm severed just below the elbow.

  "Abadar preserve us," Drelm said. He charged forward, passing under the struggling form still held aloft by some unseen force, thinking that he could at least drag the elven officer out of the way.

  Then, suddenly, the elf before him dropped. So too did the axe suspended in midair. The bloody line in its side, sketched by the galloping Elyana, disappeared.

  The beast was gone.

  Elyana curveted Calda, spun her around and flung herself off the animal to tend to Illidian. The elf captain had clambered to his feet, and was paling rapidly as he stared at the ruined, bloody stump of his arm and the blood-drenched garments that clothed it.

  Drelm knew Elyana's healing could save the captain, so he gathered his axe in case the thing came back, then looked over the elf that had dropped nearby.

  He wasn't moving, and Drelm saw why the moment he bent to investigate. The beast had pulped the elf's rib cage.

  Drelm rose with a prayer to Abadar on his lips, and searched the battle site for Melloc.

  He found him a few moments later, staring sightlessly at the sky.

  Drelm let out a long, slow breath. Now that was something he had hoped not to see. What would he say to the boy's father? To Daylah?

  Drelm lowered his battleaxe and leaned against it, staring down at the young man. True, Melloc had spoken before he thought sometimes, and not always reasoned things through, but even a fool could have seen that the boy was meant for big things. He'd been brave, and clever, and horse and weapon skills had come as naturally to him as they had to Drelm. You couldn't say that about every man.

  Melloc looked almost lifelike lying there, except that his neck was a little looser than it should ever be on a living body. The half-orc decided that the same invisible limb that had knocked him flat must have struck Melloc a little higher.

  It was very sad. Still, Melloc had died on the field of battle, with a sword in his hand. Drelm felt certain the boy's father would be proud.

  paizo.com #3236236, Corry Douglas , Aug 10, 2014

  Chapter Three

  Too Good to Miss

  Lisette

  Most of Delgar's buildings were fashioned from rough-hewn timber, lacking exterior plaster or even a second story. Unless you enjoyed the smell of fish scales and muddy water, there was little to recommend the place, although Lisette appreciated the community's nod toward organization. A lot of river communities couldn't be bothered to fashion straight roads—or straight houses, for that matter. Delgar at least had been built on a grid plan, and as she and Karag climbed out of the barge that afternoon, she was able to take quick stock of the little town.

  For the last week of her journey she'd heard rumors about a hunting expedition jointly sponsored by several of the famously uncooperative River Kingdoms. Delgar was to be its launching point, which was probably what had drawn her bounty so far north. Apparently, experienced hunters were to be paid good coin, and the old rogue probably hoped he could pass off as one.

  She and Karag blended in fairly well with the crowds thronging the little village, for no one could guess by looking at their gear that they earned their coin hunting men, not beasts.

  She scanned the faces they passed, taking the place in, ignoring the return appraisals from knots of varied martial types who wound their way through the muddy streets.

  Dark of eye and dark of hair, which she'd cut to the nape of her neck, Lisette had the pale complexion of a Chelaxian. Her pants were dark, loose, comfortable, and tucked into well-worn, calf-high boots sewn from lizard hide. A pair of pistol butts stood out from the sash tied at her waist, weapons of fine iron and dark, highly polished wood. Her single mark of flamboyance was the slim red feather thrust into the side of her brimmed cloth hat.

  As Karag finished unloading their gear, he handed a matching flintlock rifle up to her. She shouldered the weapon without remark, the brown strap sliding across the long black sleeve of her shirt and the rim of her black vest.

  The burly dwarf hefted a second rifle on his own shoulder, the long muzzle poking three feet above his blond locks. He then lifted a huge leather bag as thick around as himself and propped it on the other shoulder.

  "Let's get this over with," she said, and they started forward.

  The two made an odd pair. Karag was Lisette's physical opposite in nearly every way, for he was blond and pale and sturdy. Where she strode with pantherish grace, he swaggered. If passersby even recognized the rifle he carried for what it was, they would probably have assumed it was his, but it belonged to Lisette just as much as the powder bag slung across Karag's back, the rifle over her own shoulder, or the brace of flintlock pistols thrust through her belt.

  "You ever hear what they're really supp
osed to be hunting?" Lisette asked him. She ignored the appreciative whistle of a leather-clad barbarian leaning against the side of a building.

  "It's some monster the elves drove out of Kyonin," Karag answered in his low rumble. "If the long-ears can't be bothered, they'll just chase a beast out and let everyone else..."

  Karag's voice trailed off, and Lisette's gaze swung to follow his own.

  A thickset man with a full beard had just stepped from the sprawling, two-story building ahead of them and stood now under a hanging placard carved with a leaping fish. The hood of his light traveling cloak was cast back to reveal a balding pate peppered with red hair. Beside him were two younger men of similar build, their receding hair heavy with grease.

  Lisette cursed in disbelief. It was never, ever this easy. She'd tracked the man for the better part of two months, always staying just behind him. And now he was there before her within a few moments of reaching Delgar.

  "Velmik," Karag whispered.

  Even as her hand swept toward her right pistol, Velmik spotted her. With a deep-throated shout he dove back through the doorway. His sons hurried after.

  Lisette wasted no breath cursing. "Back entrance," she ordered Karag, then leapt to the wooden porch to push into the throng of men Velmik and his sons had stumbled through.

  The fugitives left a wake through the middle of the tavern's crowded common room, a wide space crammed with long wooden tables and broad-shouldered men and women, many of whom were now cursing, their heads turned toward Velmik. The murderer ploughed toward a closed door beside the stairs to the private rooms. One of his boys was ahead of him; the other was looking back at Lisette. His hand went to his belt, and fastened not around the sword hilt, but an axe haft. Lisette knew then that she faced Gern, who had a reputation with his throwing axe. That meant the one starting up the stairs ahead of Velmik had to be the eldest, Hadek, against whom there was a minor bounty. Not half the size of the one on Velmik, and it wouldn't have brought her out to the wilds, but with him so close by she wouldn't dream of passing up the opportunity.

  Gern charged up the creaking steps after the others. "Hurry, Dad!"