by Joe Jackson
“Damnit,” Sharyn muttered. “I need to shift forms to catch this thing, but I can’t do that with all these guards running around.”
“No, we’ll just need to outsmart it,” Sherman agreed.
They circled around to the next road to try to cut off avenues of escape, and it was clear the city watch was doing the same. More and more watchmen joined them as signal whistles called them to duty. The creature didn’t seem intent on fighting, picking its way along rooftops to try to find an avenue of escape. Sherman watched in awe as a watchman fired a crossbow at it, and the creature bent smoothly at the waist even in full stride, deftly avoiding the missile.
Eventually the creature ran out of rooftops to hop between, having exhausted the row of shops that lined the avenue. It doubled back on its route, and Sherman cursed quietly when it jumped down on the other side. He dashed down an alleyway with Sharyn well in front of him, and they found a pair of guards lying in the road, clutching wounded legs. The wounds didn’t appear to be extensive, just enough to disable pursuit, and the creature had wisely chosen a spot where there were few enemies.
Sherman and Sharyn continued chasing it eastward, but Sherman soon began to lag behind. His armor was just too heavy for a long, high-speed pursuit. Instead, he turned north again, and kept his pace as steady as he could. No doubt the creature would eventually try to leave the city, which would require going to the north end. There, Sherman would be able to get his mount and begin the chase again, this time with him holding the advantage.
When he reached the stables, the hands were all standing around chatting nervously, no doubt concerned by all the watch whistles and commotion. Clearly, the baron and his officers had instructed the townspeople to stay off the streets when they heard the whistles sounding, all the better to hem in and capture criminals. The stable hands looked to Sherman for any news, but he barked for his mount to be saddled and brought to him quickly. With all of the hands working together, they had him mounted and in pursuit again in minutes.
Sherman urged his steed up the streets of the city quickly, following the sounds of all the whistles to try to get his bearings. The horse’s hooves clopped up the streets rapidly, but he resisted the urge to push it too hard when running uphill; that was a quick way to harm a horse. He ducked under an archway as he re-entered the market district and rode along the avenues. He drew out his sword, confident he would be able to run down the intruder easily on horseback, and there were cheers and whistles of approval from the fatigued guards as he passed them.
Sherman caught a glimpse of Sharyn down a side street, and he brought his mount to a careful stop and then turned it southbound. His steed stutter-stepped at first, but soon got its footing on the cobbled street and began closing the distance between them and their quarry. Sharyn was still running at full speed, and Sherman was amazed at the woman’s athleticism. Certainly, being a werewolf had a lot to do with it, but it was just another thing he admired about her.
Sharyn cut to the side to let Sherman pass, and he had a clear path to the back of their quarry as the creature sped toward the northern archways out of the city. He leaned to the side in his saddle and tried to strike the creature with the flat of his blade. He missed, barely, but the horse incorrectly assumed he was leading it with his weight, and it crashed sidelong into the fleeing creature. The cloaked figure grunted, hit the ground hard, and flipped over, its hood at last coming down to reveal long, pointed ears and a jackal-like muzzle.
“Gods, it’s a jackal demon!” Sherman yelled as Sharyn closed the distance.
The elestram female shook her head and got to her feet hastily. She looked at Sherman, blocking her egress with his mount, and then she turned and looked at Sharyn. Sherman figured she was likely to go up on the rooftops again to try to escape, but instead, the elestram drew out two long, straight blades and dashed toward Sharyn. Sherman kicked his horse’s sides and urged it forward, but knew he wouldn’t get between them in time.
It didn’t matter. With a loud tearing of fabric, Sharyn shredded her armor as she shifted quickly into the hulking brute of her hybrid form. The elestram skidded to a stop, but she was slammed hard by a massive, clawed hand that threw her sidelong into the nearby city wall. She dropped her blades to the ground with a clatter, and the impact clearly knocked the wits from her momentarily. Sharyn bounded over to finish subduing the demon, but she had only scant minutes to do so and then flee before her hybrid form would be seen.
The elestram reacted swiftly when Sharyn picked her up. The elestram grabbed hard at the werewolf’s wrist, thrust her foot backwards and through Sharyn’s narrow ankle, and then hit the werewolf under the jaw in a quick uppercut. Sharyn growled and reached down to her wounded ankle, and that was all the time the elestram needed to re-arm herself. She cut the sides of both of Sharyn’s knees and then stabbed her right in the tip of the nose with a blade, drawing startled, pained yips from the werewolf.
And yet, Sherman didn’t miss the fact that the elestram wasn’t trying to kill anyone. She’d had the opportunity to kill two guards and now Sharyn, but she didn’t. That didn’t mean she wasn’t up to no good, but Sherman was satisfied trying to capture her instead of killing her. He rode his horse at the jackal-demon again, but she stepped in front and put her hand to the horse’s muzzle before jumping clear over its head and neck to land in front of Sherman. His eyes went wide and he moved to strike the elestram, but she punched him several times in the gut in rapid succession, her strikes so much more potent for holding the hilts of her blades, even through his chainmail shirt.
She toppled him from the saddle, and Sherman was only just able to catch himself before his head hit the hard street. The elestram laughed, and Sherman turned over just in time to see her right herself in the saddle and kick the horse’s sides. Sherman tried not to laugh when the horse bucked and the elestram fell inelegantly from her seat. She managed to land on her hands and feet, but was sent sprawling to her back moments later when Sharyn’s fist connected with the side of her face.
“Don’t kill her,” Sherman urged. “Get to your wolf form, quickly!”
Sharyn growled deeply, but she did as Sherman had said. Sherman wanted to go remove Sharyn’s things from the street before the watch arrived, but the elestram didn’t stay down for long. She rose a little slower this time, and there was red on the end of her snout from a bloodied nose, but she was now on the right side of pursuit to escape the city. She turned and ran north, once more toward the archways to freedom.
Sherman swung back up into his saddle and urged his horse to give chase, Sharyn right beside them. A line of watchmen had the archways out of the city blocked off, and the elestram slowed to a jog as she realized she was about to get pinched. She glanced around at the walls, the nearby shops, and any other avenue of escape, but she must have realized she was caught. Sherman simply hoped she wouldn’t fight to the death. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with her once he had her in custody, though sending her to DarkWind to be questioned by the Demonhunter Order seemed like a good plan.
“Gods above, it’s a demon!” one of the guards shouted as the light of their torches finally revealed the face of the intruder.
“Hold your positions!” Sherman shouted. Though he didn’t have any authority over the city watch, they listened to him for the time being. Sherman wondered if any officers were on the way. He turned to the elestram and said, “Drop your weapons, and you will not be slain.”
The creature cocked its head curiously; could she even understand him? Her eyes began to narrow, and Sherman wondered what she was thinking. He started to dismount, but as soon as he did, the elestram dashed toward Sharyn. Caught completely off-guard, Sharyn shifted into her hybrid form thoughtlessly, and Sherman cursed under his breath. A renewed cry of panic broke out among the guards, and they charged forward, their blades flashing in the light of the torches and the moons.
“No, wait!” Sherman yelled, but he realized his assurances would be meaningless in this
situation. Sharyn had just sent the men into a full-blown panic, and Sherman wondered if they would forget about the elestram completely and go straight for the larger threat. Against his expectations, the guards split up against both of their “foes.”
Sharyn backed up defensively, trying to swipe swords out of hands without causing any real damage, but the elestram had no such concerns. Several bright flashes of the blade preceded the guards falling to the ground, clutching bleeding arms or legs, and with only a glance at Sherman over her shoulder, the elestram jogged out through the archway and into the night. If his eyes didn’t deceive him, he was pretty sure she had smiled.
“Stand down!” Sherman shouted.
“No, you stand down,” said an approaching man in chain armor. He had a tabard with the baron’s coat of arms, and the stripes of an officer on his shoulder. “What is the meaning of all this?”
Sherman saluted the officer respectfully, but the gesture was not returned. “I’m Sherman Moreville, a paladin in the service of Earl Lajere,” he explained. “As strange as it may sound, this werewolf is my companion, and was helping me chase down an elestram.”
The officer looked to his men, most of whom confirmed there was an elestram involved. The lieutenant – based on his stripes – turned back to Sherman. “What kind of a paladin keeps company with a werewolf? Do you not know what these creatures are capable of?”
“She is well-known to us, and has been working with the Silver Blades under the orders of Lady Karian Vanador,” Sherman said, dropping as many names as he could.
The lieutenant was clearly shocked, but eventually, he waved a hand impatiently. “You know what? I’m not even interested. Take her out of the city, and go chase down the elestram you were hunting. If I or my men see either of you back here again, you’ll be taken into custody and brought before the baron to have your story verified. If you’re working with the Silver Blades, chase your elestram and then go work with them. Go.”
Sharyn didn’t argue, and bounded along beside Sherman once he gathered her things, mounted up, and rode through the archway. He wanted to help the wounded guards or at least give a better explanation to the lieutenant, but if he was going to catch the elestram, he had to take the opportunity to leave without questions. He decided he could smooth things over with Earl Lajere’s help once the entire situation was dealt with, but that he had to take care of the bigger issues now. Sharyn had made a grievous error, but fortunately, it had only cost them face for now, and then maybe only temporarily.
The southern plains were bathed in the pale moonlight once they left the confines of the city. After only a few dozen steps from the edge of the firelight from the archway braziers, even Sherman’s weaker human vision was able to start picking out details among the monochrome landscape. Most of the area was still under the lunar eyes, and Sherman marked the lone figure striding purposefully to the northwest. He urged his horse forward in Sharyn’s wake as she followed both sight and scent after their enemy.
Sharyn, on all fours, was able to keep pace with Sherman riding hard after the elestram, and they closed the distance quickly. The elestram female took up a defensive position near a pile of boulders lining the edge of a tributary. At the very least, the rocks would keep Sherman from trying to trample her; at worst, Sherman realized he might have to dismount to engage the creature. Sharyn had no such difficulties, though, and she brazenly led the charge, leaping up onto the rocks in a single bound and stretching out her long arms and wickedly-clawed hands to swipe at the elestram.
The jackal-demon slashed at Sharyn’s outstretched arms with her blades, nicking the werewolf but only marginally. Still, she kept up a defensive posture that reminded Sherman a bit of Kari, keeping her enemies firmly in front of her and using her blades to keep Sharyn at bay. The paladin couldn’t help but wonder what this creature was about, and why she was so hesitant to kill. Certainly, Kari and her Order would want to question the demon about her intentions, and then do away with her once they knew. Sherman realized the elestram’s intentions were really quite irrelevant; whether she tried to kill him or not, he had to take her into custody before she had the opportunity to make an already chaotic situation far worse.
Sharyn lunged forward again, but the elestram stabbed her in the thigh multiple times, following up with a slash across the inside of the knee. The werewolf went down, but not before she landed a powerful swipe across the elestram’s face. Sharyn’s claws dug deeply enough through the fur to draw long, bloody gashes across the side of the elestram’s face, very nearly taking one of her eyes as well. But the werewolf’s leg buckled, and she dropped to her hands and knees, almost at the mercy of the demon before her.
Sherman drew his steed up alongside the rocks and dismounted as quickly as he could onto the boulder pile. He drew his longsword, wary of the reach of his greatsword when there was an ally close by. The elestram marked him with a glare and snarled, her teeth set in a grimace against the pain of Sharyn’s claw wounds. The paladin hoped to draw the demon’s attention away from his companion, but he realized a moment later that the elestram was no fool.
The jackal-demon stabbed Sharyn several more times through both shoulders, and then gave her a vicious cut across the face for good measure. Sherman knew Sharyn healed rapidly, but the elestram was crippling her, which was going to leave him alone against the jackal-demon if he didn’t act quickly. He drove in with purpose, trying to keep his composure as the elestram kicked Sharyn hard in the side of the head, sending the wounded werewolf slumping to her side. The elestram turned on Sherman just as he got into melee range.
Sherman hacked wildly but then backed up a step and ducked to his right. The elestram seemed surprised by his movements, her counterstrikes biting only air as the human deftly cut to her left. Sherman sheathed his longsword as quickly as he could, and drew out his greatsword, now wanting its reach advantage, even if it was slower. He knew the elestram, dual-wielding, would overwhelm him quickly if he was armed with only his longsword; he hoped that keeping her at range and possibly driving her back into Sharyn might turn the tide.
As if reading his thoughts, the elestram turned and stabbed Sharyn again, this time under the ribs and deeply. Sherman gasped and charged forward, swinging his greatsword in a mighty arc to drive the jackal-demon away from his companion. The elestram seemed willing to give ground to the greater reach of his sword, and she moved away from the whining, prone form of Sharyn. Sherman got between ally and enemy, and brought his sword to bear.
“You had best return to your hellish homeworld, before you become a permanent part of this one,” he growled.
The elestram didn’t respond, except to chuckle. Her tongue came out briefly to lick at the claw wounds across the side of her snout. She made no move to attack Sherman, but she stood in her defensive posture, waiting for him to engage. For a moment, he wondered if he might be wasting his time fighting something that didn’t seem keen on killing, but he couldn’t put aside the fact that she was a demon. If she went on to kill someone because Sherman had let her go, he’d have to live with that for the rest of his life.
Of course, if he insisted on trying to capture or kill her and she returned the favor, he wouldn’t have a rest of his life to worry about. “Lay down your weapons, and I promise you will not be harmed,” he said.
The elestram laughed at him.
Sherman took another swing at the demon, swiping to try to keep her out of range and unable to come in behind his attacks and counterstrike. She certainly respected the weight and strength of his swings, opting to dodge and weave rather than try to catch the greatsword with her own weapons. He tried to drive her to the edge of the rocks, hoping to push her off, possibly into the stream, where he would have the advantage of the high ground and better footing.
The elestram measured his intent and moved in after one of his swings, and she dropped her blades to grapple his arms rather than try to parry. They fought for control of the greatsword, and Sherman was honestly surprised by
her lean strength. The height and lankiness of the jackal demons made them appear somewhat weak, but her strength nearly matched his own, and he had no easy time keeping his weapon from being taken from him. And then the jackal-demon leaned in and licked his nose.
Sherman winced, and that was all the opening she needed. She ripped the sword from his hands and let it clatter to the ground, and she swept his legs out from under him. Sherman saw stars when his head bounced off of the boulders, and the wind was blasted out of him when her foot came down into his chain-armored belly. When his vision and mind cleared enough to focus on the elestram again, she had mounted him with both swords in hand: one to his sternum, the other to his throat. Sherman glanced sideways at Sharyn again, but it appeared as though the jackal-demon had stabbed her a few more times. His companion was still and bleeding from a number of wounds.
The paladin looked back up at the jackal-demon. “What are you about?” he asked, the effort of speaking making his head hurt.
“Hunting,” she returned simply. “Though I do appreciate the exercise.”
“Who are you hunting?” he grumbled, his head pounding.
“That is not for me to say. But you have wasted enough of my time already, human. Now I must be on my way, but I cannot let you continue to harry me,” she said.
Sherman started to protest, but she slid one of her swords neatly under his ribs, and it punctured the mail with little effort. Sherman screamed as the cold blade bit into his guts, and his breathing became labored and painful. The jackal-demon rose to a crouch and backed up, and she surgically slid her swords into both of his thighs as well. Sherman continued to cry out in pain, hoping his screams might carry to the city and bring help.
With Sherman thoroughly disabled, the elestram rose and crossed to the edge of the rocks. “Your mount, unfortunately, must pay a steeper price for your meddling,” she said over her shoulder. Sherman could only watch helplessly as she stabbed his horse neatly through the neck. The animal reared and kicked, but the elestram was already well out of range, and she jumped off the far side of the rocks and began to jog westward before the horse had even collapsed.