Stalking the Beast

by Howard Andrew Jones

  Drelm was still sorting through the meaning of that particular statement as Snowlock started forward.

  Elyana cursed through her teeth and followed, though the elf stopped at the tree line. Drelm and Illidian both came up beside her, and the rest of the group waited behind.

  Snowlock stepped forward into a misty clearing that was roughly circular, where the trees ended abruptly and gave way to ankle-high grasses, intermittently visible beneath the drifting mist. Drelm had not remembered a full moon, yet it shone high and silver and especially large, filling the clearing with its light so that the ancient oak in its center seemed large around as a house, lush and green. The tree and clearing both spoke of high summer rather than the coming fall.

  "The bastard sent his own men to attack us," Lisette said. She had come up alongside Drelm, although it was Elyana she addressed.

  "It seems so," Elyana answered.

  "Then he can't be trusted," Lisette hissed. "I say we shoot him."

  "I don't think a bullet can kill him," Elyana replied. "We keep up our end."

  Lisette looked none too pleased, but Drelm's eyes left her as he heard Snowlock address the empty air in front of the oak tree.

  "King Woodlock, it is I, King Snowlock. I have come with my challengers. We will best your champion, for my warriors are better than your own."

  Something awoke within the mist and swirled upward to face Snowlock. In moments, their strange guide faced a twisted version of himself, one whose legs and feet disappeared within the mist beneath him. As he grew more and more substantial, the mist itself faded, and the creature's body took on a green, leafy sheen. Where Snowlock was fashioned with dying and dead forest detritus, this one was formed of bright greenery and flowering vines.

  "What is your wager?" Woodlock asked.

  "Why, when I win, I want to begin my rule at the waning of this moon."

  Woodlock laughed, his leaves shaking with the sound. "You are arrogant to believe you can win another moon's worth of days. I shall defeat you utterly and your own people will mock your misfortune."

  Woodlock and Snowlock continued their exchange of insults.

  Aladel sucked in a breath through his teeth. "I should have seen this."

  Elyana immediately turned to him, eyes burning. "What do you know?"

  "We're nearing the change of a season. The fey are intimately connected with the natural world."

  "So?"

  Aladel turned up his palms in a helpless gesture. "The fey may be strange, but they still follow traditions. Some of them, anyway."

  "Get to the point," Elyana snapped.

  Drelm agreed with her. Elves were long-winded. He sniffed the air. Woodlock and Snowlock were still debating, but things were stirring on the edges of the circle—creatures with glowing eyes that set the greenery shaking as they touched it.

  Aladel grew more intent. "I've heard that, in some fey societies, when each season ends, the summer and winter courts battle to see who will rule, so that summer might last a little longer, or winter might come a little sooner."

  Drelm wrinkled his brow. "The fey make the weather?"

  "No," Aladel answered, "though they can sometimes affect the local climate—what I'm saying is that we're walking into something other than what we were told."

  Drelm grunted. He might have said that sooner. "Snowlock lied?"

  Elyana looked at the back of the strange creature fifteen feet ahead of them, then to Drelm. "He probably thinks the other side is evil. I don't know that this changes anything," she said to Aladel, then added, "though it clarifies the situation."

  Drelm puzzled over her conclusion, for he didn't feel like the situation was clear at all. "Should we be in this fight, then? How would Abadar view this?"

  Elyana's look was grave. "I can't pretend to know what any god might think. But the fey are wild creatures, like those boars. Neither good nor evil, in the strict sense. If you fear that we'll be fighting the innocent, or the just, rest easy."

  This made sense to Drelm, but he muttered a prayer to Abadar to give him guidance anyway.

  Snowlock and Woodlock, meanwhile, seemed to have finished their posturing.

  "You will see," Snowlock raged. "Summon your people. Mine await outside the clearing."

  The greener creature laughed. "Do they? Have you forgotten that they are not inviolate until they enter the clearing?"

  Elyana cursed, and in the same breath shouted: "Forward into the clearing! Everyone—go!"

  From the left rose a shrill hooting noise, and then a high-pitched scream of agony. Drelm whirled and raised his axe, already moving toward the sound.

  Aladel was down. Standing over him was a hulking bearlike shape lifting blood-soaked claws. Its head was that of an immense bird, and turned sharply and machinelike to eye them before opening its maw to let out another shrieking hoot.

  Grellen charged the thing, sword outstretched, and Illidian drew his own weapon.

  Drelm rushed toward the beast, teeth bared in a grin. Curiously, though the monster was bearlike, feathers sheathed it. He'd never seen it's like.

  The elf was down but not dead, for he moved feebly. The monster leaned over to peck savagely at Illidian, who sidestepped before landing a blow against its arm.

  Drelm arrived, and his blade sliced deep through the creature's feathered flesh. He came near to slicing one arm completely through, and there was a fountain of blood. There was also another shrill blast of avian rage, and then the beak swept toward him. It slammed into his armor with the force of a sledgehammer, and he staggered back. Dully he was aware of Elyana shouting to retreat, and of a higher-pitched scream of indignation from what had to have been Snowlock, decrying that the attack wasn't fair.

  The monster was apparently unconcerned with fairness, and followed Drelm as he backed away. Grellen darted in to slice the thing's leg, but the creature was so tightly focused upon Drelm it seemed not to notice.

  "There's more coming!" Melias cried behind him. He also heard the now-familiar thunder of one of Lisette's muskets. The beak in front of him splintered, fully a third of it blown away.

  If anything, this enraged the monster further, and Drelm was still its victim of choice. It advanced, shrilling, razor claws shining in the leaf-filtered moonlight.

  And then one arrow appeared through its eye as if by magic, and a second a fraction to the right. Two more thunderous gun pops followed and the creature staggered. Drelm felt cool fingers on his arm even as Elyana bounded past, avoiding a disemboweling swipe with the ease of a dancer before driving her blade deep through the creature's vitals. She spun away from a returning blow.

  Drelm saw that another of the things had indeed appeared behind the first, and was advancing on Drutha, who shouted for her dog to run.

  Elyana struck again, and the beast went down. Drelm grabbed his axe and Cyrelle darted forward with Illidian to put arms under Aladel.

  "Fall back," Elyana ordered.

  Drelm retreated with Grellen and the sorcerer. The oncoming creature stamped after them, reaching up with one great feathered arm, but just as Drelm was readying to swing, the beast lowered the limb. The half-orc realized he'd put a foot into the clearing, and glanced right and left before baring his fangs a final time.

  The thing didn't see, for it had turned its monstrous back upon him and was retreating into the woods.

  Drelm quickly took stock of their new surroundings.

  It looked like everyone had made it into the clearing. Elyana was bent over Aladel. Cyrelle was arranging her hounds in a line before her, and had drawn her blade. Drutha sat on her dog, a sling in one hand.

  "My champions!" Snowlock stood at the clearing's center, waving impossibly elongated hands. "You must stand to present yourselves! The champion of the evil one comes!"

  Snowlock indicated the tree beside him with an expansive gesture, and Drelm wondered for a moment if the tree itself were the enemy.

  But then a familiar figure stepped forth from the shadow of the tree
. Under the brilliant moonlight there was no mistaking the broad-shouldered, lanky form and dark gleam of the helmet he wore.

  Calvonis.

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

  Chapter Twelve

  First Blood

  Lisette

  Calvonis held his head high and thrust back his shoulders, smirking at them.

  Lisette wished that the stupid fey would announce the start of the battle, or sound a horn, or whatever it was they were going to do, because she had her rifle loaded and could raise it to her shoulder in half a breath. The problem of Calvonis would then be over, and Drelm would surely be dead shortly thereafter. From what Lisette had seen, if she hadn't been there to save the half-orc, he'd have been dead or critically wounded two or three times during the journey already.

  "That's your champion?" Snowlock capered back and forth upon two spindly branchlike legs. "You will see no more of this moon, let alone one to follow!"

  "But this is not my champion," Woodlock cried, exultant. "This is my servant. As I have told you. None in the woods must harm him lest they face my wrath. He commands my champion. Your champions must fight the creature that he conjures, not him." Woodlock actually giggled a little, as if he were a child playing a trick. He waved his leafy hands and his voice rolled down to them.

  "This is how it is done, champions of Snowlock. I shall conjure a mist, a curtain. While you make your preparations for a hundred count, the other champion does so as well. The moment the curtain drops, the battle begins. Any champion who leaves the circle, dies. Any champion who attacks someone outside the circle, dies. Whoever is left standing at the end, lives. The rules are simple."

  Grellen cursed a blue streak.

  "Are there any questions?" Woodlock asked.

  "I have one." Calvonis's voice was smooth. Amused. Lisette wished dearly that she could blast him immediately.

  "Speak then, my servant."

  Calvonis bowed his head to the fey lord. "I was wondering, noble king: If any of Snowlock's champions wish to swear allegiance to me and pray to the glory of Razmir, the living god, might they fight at my side?"

  "That's perfectly fine with me," Woodlock said amiably. "Do any of you wish to switch your allegiance?"

  The curses that rose from Lisette's side didn't entirely surprise her, although she was astonished by the colorful wording of the halfling's declaration. From everything she'd seen of the little alchemist so far, she was nearly as polite as the half-orc.

  Lisette didn't reply herself because she knew Calvonis meant only to amuse himself. She didn't understand the whole Razmir angle, but didn't really care, for she had an idea.

  "Your pardon, King Woodlock." Lisette's voice was pure sweetness and light. "I have a question of clarification."

  "Speak, then," Woodlock commanded with great aplomb.

  "None of you had best contemplate betrayal!" Snowlock's head had swiveled around to face them, eyes aglow. "I will be very, very angry."

  Lisette ignored him. "I have two questions, King Woodlock. First, are only champions bound by the laws of this match?"

  "Champions and kings are bound by the laws, and must keep this space inviolate."

  "My second question, O King, is this: if we are still free to switch our allegiance, does that mean we are not yet champions?"

  This seemed to puzzle Woodlock, whose reply was hesitant. "I do not completely follow you."

  "Well, surely a champion could not switch allegiance once the battle began. So we must not be champions yet, until the battle starts."

  "I suppose," Woodlock admitted, "that you are correct, because while some have switched sides in the past before a battle, it is forbidden to do so once the curtain has gone up."

  "Interesting," said Lisette, and snapped her rifle to her shoulder.

  Calvonis's eyes bugged, and she had the satisfaction of seeing him frantically leap to the left.

  The bullet that should have taken the summoner in the chest took him in the shoulder instead, and he spun and dropped. Lisette brought up her pistol as she started forward at a run.

  "She cheated!" Woodlock cried. "She cheated!"

  But Snowlock crowed in victory. "She did not! She was not yet champion, and you said he wasn't a champion at all! Oh, the cleverness!"

  Before Lisette could cross the distance a thick curtain of mist rose before her. She paused in mid-stride and stepped back, fearful of coming upon the beast all on her own.

  "Get back!" Elyana warned.

  And Lisette did so, wondering when the hundred count would start. She passed where Snowlock had stood and saw only a few leaves drifting down beside a little pile of sticks.

  Drelm came up and patted her shoulder, laughing as she reloaded her rifle. That just incensed her further.

  "That should slow him down," the half-orc said.

  "I meant to slow him down forever."

  Elyana, meanwhile, arranged her troops, barking orders like a mercenary sergeant.

  Aladel was up and moving, if stiffly, and had his bow ready. The moonlight rendered everything in blacks and grays, but even so he seemed a little wan.

  Elyana spoke quickly about Drelm and Grellen attacking on different flanks, but Lisette wondered if it would amount to anything. The summoner was whittling them down, and he had certainly carried himself like someone well rested. If only she'd had her second rifle ready! Karag would have handed it right up and she could have blown the summoner's head off even as the mist dropped.

  But that rifle was ruined now, impossibly expensive to replace. And Karag was dead. He'd grown into an incredible pain in the ass, but he'd gotten so efficient with his reloads she'd begun to take for granted her ability to fire in rapid succession. He'd been so very good at disposing of bodies, and preserving the evidence, as he'd always preferred to describe keeping heads or other body parts stored for clients.

  Calvonis had taken something very important to her, and she meant to make him pay.

  As Lisette finished checking over her weapons, she loosed her longsword. She remained a good blade, though she had no intention of going shoulder to shoulder with that hulking invisible monster.

  Once she was through with her weapons she fell back beside Illidian and Aladel, who'd taken position on the best high ground available, a little mound. Both knelt amid arrow shafts thrust into the earth, as though praying in a peculiar garden. Lisette took her space to the right of Illidian and lay down her powder horn, musket balls, and rammer one after the other, just below her pistols.

  Illidian's eyes were narrowed, cruel, but his mouth ticked up slightly as he looked her direction.

  "Now we both have blood to avenge," he told her. "Let it be that we both find satisfaction this day."

  "I'm leaving prayer to the orc," she replied.

  "Half-orc," Aladel corrected quietly. He did not seem to notice the frown she gave in response.

  Lisette adjusted her hat and surveyed the field. All was quiet, save for the girl, Melias. Elyana had finally found something useful for the sorcerer to do; the girl was counting down from one hundred, slowly. She had reached thirty. From the surrounding trees, thousands upon thousands of eyes shone in the moonlight. A fair number of them glowed.

  She tried to ignore them. "What's your plan?" Lisette asked Illidian.

  "I mean to drive arrows through every inch of the thing's face."

  "Then pray," Aladel said, quietly, "that the halfling's strikes do the trick this time. Or ask it of Drelm."

  Melias arrived at fifteen.

  "I gave up on prayer," Lisette said. "It's up to me to keep my powder dry, isn't it?"

  The dark-garbed elf favored her with a sad smile. "Any control is temporary, or illusory, save that over your own state of mind."

  Damned elves. Illidian was the only one she really understood.

  Melias arrived at ten.

  The warriors crept forward, Grellen to right, Drelm to left. Elyana stood at the side of Drutha, sti
ll seated on her dog, the halfling's sling heavy with one of her three remaining glass containers. She'd told them earlier in the day that the beast's attack had shattered almost half her supply.

  Elyana's arrow was nocked but not quite raised, and a flaming brand was driven into the ground beside her. With but a dip of her hand she would be able to light the cloth tied about the shaft of the arrow, or reach for the other two likewise banded with cloth, which she'd planted in the ground beside her.

  Melias reached five.

  Cyrelle stood a little forward of Elyana, her dogs arranged in a spearpoint before her. No longer did they seem frightened. Their ears were erect, their noses pointed toward the mist. The hounds' woman shushed two of them as they began to growl.

  Melias reached one, then zero, and stopped her count.

  Yet the mist remained. Unintentionally, Lisette found herself counting forward, wondering if the fey folk had a different counting scale. She reached up to seat her hat more firmly on the crown of her head.

  "What are they playing at?" Illidian asked.

  Lisette wondered at the peculiar grating noise, then saw it was Illidian's hook rubbing against his bow.

  At that moment the mist dropped. Lisette saw nothing that lay beyond it, but she snapped up her rifle as both elves raised their bows.

  "Hunt!" Cyrelle shouted, and her dogs were off like a bowshot. They ran to the left barking, and the pattern they formed around the target showed the shape of the beast as it advanced on the circle's far edge.

  Lisette and the elves swung their aim north toward the invisible creature. An unseen limb lashed out and sent one dog broken through the air. It landed, whimpering, with a thud, but the monster's path was revealed, and Drutha was already launching her first glass globe into the center of the space defined by Cyrelle's dog pack. It splashed out against a scaly hide, burning and smoking, and Elyana sent a burning arrow into the discolored midst.

  Her aim was precise, and soon an entire horse-sized section of the creature was a visible, flaming red mass.

  "Fire at will!" Elyana screamed.

  The red wall of fire turned even as the halfling flung a second globe. This one missed, sending up a cloud of hissing steam to the creature's left. Lisette heard the halfling curse as she readied a final globe. Elyana and Aladel fired steadily but Illidian, like Lisette, waited.