TokyoPewPew
Thirteen 13
Mae
KazAlkemi
Mole
Fetzen
ErosSense
leopard wcue
Vampiretwilight
A Moody WriterThe Great Hunt of the Blighted Nut Cracker
A Grand Colab of Glorious Lengh.
Outside Dawn Haven. Forest.
(No Onions where harmed in making of this story)
The trail was leading deeper into the forest. Deep enough in fact that the many burning lights of Dawnhaven were soon but an equally faint glow barely penetrating the air between the trunks. Wolf-thyr's nostrils sucked in more of the crisp air and found the scent to become stronger. That definitely was blood and it was fresh.
From time to time, the humongous wolf looked aside to check whether Lord Coswain was still with him. It was dangerously easy to lose track of what other people could and could not do while not so much being one of them anymore and he absolutely did not want to get into any fight alone. The druid knew that while he knew which end of the sword to hold and which one to point forward, that already summarized about half of his knowledge about 'traditional' weapons.
Lord Coswain went with no torch or flame much as one was effective; it would negate any of his night vision and leave him unable to effectively track his target in such darkness. Even a small mistake in such places could be the death of you. He did his best to keep pace with the wolf ahead, it was fast and far more agile on 4 feet than he was on two. Though he knew whatever was out here was better to face it with the wolf man than without. He would rather have a bad reputation and be alive than be dead as a shiny perfect lord.
He moved forward with both speed but also care, he never would hear the end of it in the afterlife he missed his wedding by dying…no thankyou. He would live damn it. He had a tingle… a feeling… “steady… something…feels. Wrong.” He said, it sounded stupid but he saw the environment, the noise, the lack of noise…something was.. off. Maybe he was likely paranoid but paranoia kept you alive right?
Additionally, the briskness that accompanied the lack of noise was not merely the customary, stinging chill of a winter’s day. Instead, it bore a stronger quality, as though the very forest had drawn in a deep breath and held it. Orion could feel it as the light hum of residual magic clinging to the ground of the perimeter of the scene he approached. It was just like the guard had described right before he’d run off the rest of the group, though his description did not do justice to the unnatural spirals of ice that jutted skyward like cruel sculptures before him.
And yet, it was not the chilling beauty of these ice formations that captivated him now, for something more sinister demanded his full attention.
A grotesque silhouette shifted near the base of an imposing pine tree not far from where he stood, its erratic and spasmodic movements arresting his focus. The creature’s disheveled fur clung desperately to its oversized frame, matted and stained with dark clots of blood that painted a gruesome picture of its recent endeavours. Orion felt a tightening in his chest at the sight and as he followed its furtive gaze toward a distant sound- the crunching of snow underfoot as two figures emerged from north of where he stood. With a sudden realization dawning upon him, his eyes widened in horror, but the abomination was swift. Still, he stepped forward with urgency, his eyes glowing a deeper crimson if possible.
“Watch out!”
Wolf-thyr's jaws opened slightly as if to save the tiny fractions of a second it would take to do so when having to actually bite. He could feel the freezing air flowing gently around his enormous teeth, almost taste the scent of blood. Or no - he could taste it for real by just letting his tongue touch the ground. Sometimes even he himself forgot just how wicked this illusion could be, but what he tasted was possibly even more abnormal. The blight ? Was this how the blight tasted or was it ordinary blood stained with something else ?
Valthyr turned his ears to take in the voice coming from a bit further out still. Watch out ? Wasn't that what they were already doing all the time ? That kind of statement could have come from the very beast they tried to find itself in an attempt to disguise its true identity, yet it could also be the truth. He stopped his lumbering body for a brief moment and gazed at his companion. What was Coswain thinking ? Did he know this crimson-eyed individual ? In any other situation than Dawnhaven, the mere sight of this kind of eye color would have triggered all defensive instincts at once, but here the lines were not so clear.
The very forest smelt and felt wrong indeed here as Lord Coswains blade rose Faster than it should, putting power into his ability to enhance his speed, rotating to the threat with an impressive turn of speed. The ability was tiring and he had to use it carefully but now was not a question of haste.
Red eyes, a voice in the darkness. That was a secondary problem as he brought the blade defensively in a move that would not win awards in the fencing arena but made space and distance for him as he began to see the true horror he was facing. Whatever it was, one of them was going to die and he would not make that easy. “Fuck” he said with a tone that implied his very souls displeasure.
The other red eyes, he had no idea if friend or foe. Those lines had gotten rather too grey here. “If you are here to help, help.” He said bluntly, especially if it was one like the woman who had lurked in the shadows… she seemed to not be interested in intrigues.
The wolf, focused on the soldier and the distant crimson-eyed man, seemingly failed to sense the abomination’s swift approach. A low growl reverberated in its throat as it dashed across the snow, paying no mind to the blight-born man behind it. Driven by ravenous tunnel vision, the creature fixated entirely on Valthyr, whose attention lingered a moment too long on the soldier.
With a sudden, feral burst of speed, the abomination lunged, clamping its jaw around Valthyr’s front right leg. Its jagged teeth sunk in deep, tearing through fur and flesh with brutal efficiency. For a fleeting moment, the illusion magic concealing Valthyr’s form wavered under the strain, revealing the unmistakable shape of a man’s forearm between the creature’s fangs before snapping back into the guise of a wolf’s leg.
The pressure was immense, iron jaws locking in place, and a spray of crimson tainted the snow beneath them. The creature hissed through clenched teeth, the taste of blood driving it into a maddened frenzy. It thrashed violently, its body twisting and wrenching, desperate to tear the wolf-man’s limb clean off.
The wolf growled, an expression of agony masked by the illusion as well. Of all the things... a squirrel ? A pretty rotten one, definitely blighted. Wolf-thyr shook the affected leg violently in an attempt to throw the nasty creature off, but all he managed to achieve was to make his own blood spatter around in small droplets that changed color and viscosity as they were ejected from his immediate vicinity, no longer affected by the magic holding them together in the state they had been in before.
He snapped with fangs that could have impaled the thing -- had they actually been able to reach it. The squirrel had attached itself to the backside of his leg, so he would have had to chew through his own limb in order to get to it. Maybe scratching with his hind legs would work better ? He stopped himself from trying that at the last moment as that could have made the squirrel jump to the other limb, too.
The creature flailed chaotically while emitting guttural hisses. Orion, still positioned behind it, reached forth, and as he did the atmosphere around his hand grew heavy and foreboding, swirling tendrils of shadow magic manifesting like living wisps of darkness. They spiralled together, converging to form a whip of unadulterated energy. With a decisive flick of his wrist, the whip sliced through the air with a crack, a motion executed with the intent to sever the creature’s vile grasp on Valthyr.
It struck true against the abomination’s mangy torso.
The force of the whip resonated throughout the creature’s sinewy figure, compelling it to release its grip on Valthyr’s leg. A slick line of crimson cut across its decaying skin, cut open by the whip. With a shrill hiss, it twisted violently, whipping its head toward the source of its pain.
Orion instinctively advanced, poised to exploit its momentary diversion; however, a sudden, agonizing sensation ignited in his palm, halting his progress. The dark energy that had surged within him crackled unpredictably before dissipating entirely, leaving him momentarily bewildered. The advisor clenched his fist, frustration etching lines across his brow.
“Move!” he bellowed, his voice filled with commanding authority. “It’s fixated on me now-use that!”
For once Luck favoured Lord Coswain, the monster's attention was away from him and he had the initiative for the first time in the whole event. No longer reacting and able to react he took direct action to help the wolf and noting whatever…. Dark attack, it made him question who was helping but he could deal with that after. First things first was the monster squirrel.
He struck with speed and force aiming to hopefully cripple the beast or limit its combat abilities. Even if it was wounded it was dangerous but it was a living creature and it could bleed out. They just had to buy time, cause smaller and steady wounds and wear it down. “Not going to say no to an opening.” He replied with a shout and a grunt as the two handed longsword forged in the fires of a lost forge bit deep into the monster's flank cutting without much resistance.
The creature screeched in agony, the force of the blow driving it sideways and leaving a gaping wound in its side, oozing unnaturally thick dark blood onto the snow. It thrashed, claws digging into the ground as it scrambled to maintain its balance, limbs trembling with spasms of pain.
As its blood pooled on the snow, it began to bubble, emitting a noxious, sulfuric stench. A sizzling sound followed as the tainted liquid melted through the thick layer of snow beneath it, carving a path straight down and seeping into the earth. A similar reaction sparked on Coswain’s blade—the blood clinging to his sword and bubbling aggressively as it attempted to corrode the metal.
Hunched and wheezing, the creature hissed through bloodied teeth, its strength waning but its rage undiminished. It lunged at Coswain with desperation, claws slashing wildly, driven more by instinct rather than accuracy, as if aware that its time was short, but unwilling to surrender. As it attacked, sharp claws scraped across Coswain’s breastplate, just managing to pierce the metal. Had the armor not been there, claws would have easily torn through his gut.
Valthyr felt rage approaching him, or rather his own mind slowly creeping across the thin line which bore such great significance. The arm that was one of his front legs hurt terribly and he had not even spent much of a thought about all the rotten teeth and flesh that had come into contact with it yet. The idea of having to pray for a healer had not yet crossed his mind for all the fight going on around him.
The beast appeared wounded, but that had also helped to unveal some more of its highly aggressive properties. The druid quickly discarded the plan of tearing it apart in his wolven mouth. He needed another weapon, something that wasn't part of himself. Wolf-thyr put himself on his hind legs to reach up a tree and break off a large branch off an adjacent tree by the sheer might of his jaw. He realigned it so it pointed a bit more forward and then used that to just thrash the abomination.
The creature lay sprawled in the blood-soaked snow, utterly incapacitated and exposed following the wolf’s ferocious onslaught. Orion stepped forward, his eyes fixed intently on its trembling form while his every movement bespoke a predator stalking its prey, ready to strike the final blow. Faint wisps of shadow magic still lingered around his hand, and as he raised it he conjured a serrated sword of obsidian energy within his outstretched palm. Then, Orion thrust it forcefully into the creature’s chest, as it writhed in a desperate, futile choreography against death. Gradually, the dark blade also dissipated, leaving the blight-born man standing contemplative and poised in the stillness that followed.
Orion exhaled slowly, his gaze lingering on the unnatural remains. Even in death, its form radiated a sense of wrongness, a blight on the natural order. But then that word-blight- stirred something within him. He understood all too intimately how others, like guards from before, might gaze upon him and discern the same sense of aberration. The creature, undeniably a monstrosity, was marred by decay and an insatiable rage beyond salvation. It all made him ponder….
Could he find solace in the notion that he, too, could be destined for the same grim fate-overtaken by his darkness and hunger?
Orion clenched his first, dispelling the fleeting tendrils of dark energy still coiled around his hand. No, he resolved silently. He was not this thing. Whatever corruption coursed through his veins, it had not stripped him of his will, his purpose, or his humanity. This creature had completely surrendered to its hunger; Orion had not. And he never would.
“This thing,” Orion muttered under his breath, his voice low and grim. “It feels…random. An opportunist, not a hunter with a purpose.” He straightened, his gaze sweeping the darkened forest. “Whatever’s responsible for the princess, it’s still out there. This was just…a distraction.”
Backing off and making a quick glance at his blade he saw the metal was discoloured and the blood was bubbling upon the edges. His armour had taken damage but nothing had managed to draw blood and cause serious wounds. He has gotten very lucky. That quick second before he could begin to make his next move the beast was hit by attacks, a wolf using a weapon! A man …blight? Yeah..red eyes using some kind of magical attack…but was he hostile?
Lord Coswain shoved the sword into the snow bank, he gave it several shakes and would have to clean it in much more care later, however this was the best he could do and it seemed to remove the continued damage. It remained discoloured and messy though, the engravings were clogged with gunked up snow.
“And you are? I arrived just before the storm.” lord Coswain said keeping his blade in a position he could be moved, but also not directly in an offensive posture. a cautious stance. “Lord Castellan Coswain, Royal Guard. I agree, wounds too precise. This thing…was savage… too clean.” He said with a disgusted glance at the monster slowly bubbling into the snow. Whatever this one seemed to have good instincts and understanding of the situation. He was no fool and all the more dangerous.
“Wolf is not Wolf… Are you good to carry on? We stuck working together. They will see any of us as an enemy.” He said with a blunt tone, pragmatic as right now he had no luxury of what he wanted but what was available giving a short version of what the situation was.
Emerging from the road that led into town, nearly a dozen guards arrived, heavy breaths visible in the cold air, armor clinking faintly as they approached the chaotic scene. Among them was a mix of both Aurelian and Lunarian soldiers, their polished plates catching faint glimmers of moonlight. The one leading—a broad-shouldered Aurelian knight—halted abruptly as his eyes fell on Orion. Recognizing the Prince’s advisor, he stepped forward, torchlight in hand.
“Lord Nightingale, Sir,” he called out, voice steady despite his labored breathing from the run in full armor. “What are your ord—" His words faltered as his gaze shifted to the grotesque, bloodied creature sprawled on the ground, its body twitching and gurgling grotesquely as its flesh slowly dissolved into a bubbling, blackened mess.
"By the Gods," he grimaced, the disgust clear in his tone as he asked, “This… thing—it attacked the Princess?”
Behind him, the other guards made similar noises of revulsion, hands instinctively gripping the hilts of their swords and spears, as if the creature might rise again. One muttered under his breath, “What in the name of Seluna is that?” while another kicked at the disintegrating snow to keep his boots clear.
Oh now they arrive! Couldn't the prince have told us that he had called in for reinforcements and that we should just wait?
Having spent a moment on not mourning his estimate of Flynn's leadership skills as it went a fair bit further down the same unfathomable drain he'd have liked to dispose of the squirrel's corpse in, Wolf-thyr answered Lord Coswain's question with a slight nod. He could move on, even though he'd prefer not getting hit a second time or at least not in that manner. Sadly, a quick inspection revealed that none of the new arrivals looked like a healer of sorts. The wound needed some serious attention better sooner than later.
The wooden club slipped out of his maw, its tip now decaying in the same discomforting, bubbling manner just like the snow it came in touch with. Someone asked for orders or at least tried so before interrupting himself -- and again this did not make much sense in Valthyr's mind. Would it not have been better for this Flynn guy to give proper orders right away instead of delegating this task to Lord Nightingale whose encounter could not have been foreseen ? Or was it one of those cases when ‘prince’ was a mere label while everything was handled by advisors ?
Valthyr raised his non-injured leg and pointed towards the dead squirrel, shaking his head violently. This was not the culprit! Hopefully anybody would understand even without words. He had not the slightest interest in shifting back to human without any clothes just to explain the situation yet another time.
Orion turned to the assembled guards. “Secure the perimeter. Whatever this thing was, it isn’t responsible for the princess.”
The guard gave a sharp nod, his eyes still lingering on the disintegrating creature. “Aye.” He turned to his comrades, barking orders. “Form up! Keep your eyes sharp—no telling what else might be lurking.”
The other guards quickly spread out, their heavy armor clanking as they moved to establish a protective perimeter around the area.
Orion glanced between the wolf and the soldier. “I’m sorry I even have to ask this, but how much do you know about the current situation? The last I was told, the princess was attacked by… something. Blightborn, they said. A guard barely managed to escape.” His crimson eyes flicked briefly toward the trail behind them, his brow furrowing. “They spoke of a path, tracks, and an aura—much like this creature’s, but... stronger.”
He paused, the faint glow of his eyes dimming as his voice dropped lower. “If either of you knows more than what the guards could manage to stammer out, now is the time to share it. Every detail matters, even the ones that seem insignificant.”
Lord Coswain was used to such reports and requests and took it without pause of offense. “I arrived on site alone, hostile, a blightborn, physic type suspected, something about using blood. Natural weapons, but also able to use a sword from the blow that removed the dead guards head. Picked up the Wolf here, and The peacock Lord. Tracked them. Was looking for Princess.
Prince Flynn” He paused and his tone turned somewhat judgemental. “Split our forces, My Squire Daphne and the priestess witness found at the scene went to the temple with a sage. He split off from us, ran off after seeing a messenger, no idea where, he told no one, broke chain of command and also ran off alone into an unknown hostile zone. Could be anywhere…they are currently unaccounted for. His…best friend? Marquis floofed off to his pillows at the first sign of trouble.”
He paused and checked the blade frowning at the discounted marks and what this thing had done to his sword. “We made pursuit and hoped to find the attacker, but we ran into this instead.”
He paused, resting his blade down and panting slightly from the adrenaline of the fight. “In summary. Attacker is unknown, probably fled. The Messenger found Prince and he ran off to an unknown destination, Princess is Unknown. Situation is a Fluster Cuck of a fuckery, and we are about the only coordinated unit operating I know of.” He finished with a tone of report that the Officer in him had serious and grave concerns about the situation and the fact they had two Unknown high value persons unknown, one attacker unknown..
“That's about the short of it.” He said detailing the catalogue of drama.
Valthyr looked down onto the snow and saw that it was slowly turning red around his left paw as blood was dripping down his fur in a macabre, miniature waterfall. He shifted more of his weight onto the other leg and moved away to the side, limping slightly. A bit of a brainwave had just hit his mind and urged for immediate implementation. That one would hurt however as he could impossibly use the still healthy front leg for this while only standing on the other. Slowly but surely, he started scratching large letter after letter into the still pristine and fluffy white around them in a large circle. It was not exactly a work of literature, but hopefully the others would be able to add in the many words and characters he left out for the sake of making the process less arduous than it already was.
So, after some considerable moments had passed and with the occasional drop of blood sharing its company, the snow read the following:
"Not jst wolf, Valthyr. Atackr hmnoid, blight ? Was frst to witns attck, tried defend women as cat so atackr back injry. Alarmd Daphne, ran into prnce and idiot. Offrd my help, snifng trail of atackr. Woman slgt injry, ran away with othr. Prnce serch them, idiot thnks I am atackr, insltd me. Just arrivd in villg, not know any yet."
He then also carved an arrow that pointed into the direction he thought the attacker's trail he had originally picked up was going.
Orion’s eyes flitted between the soldier and the wolf as each recounted their narratives. Lord Coswain’s incisive and caustic critique of the prince’s decisions, along with the disarray among their ranks, elicited a profound furrow upon Orion’s brow. Despite the swell of emotions, he refrained from interjecting until both parties had exhaustively articulated all they understood.
“The prince splitting off along…” He exhaled through his nose, frustration evident but contained. “It is undeniably impulsive, even for one so audacious. Nevertheless, I’ve known him for a very long time and cannot fathom that he would forsake the pursuit without just cause. If he is not here, it is likely because he is convinced the princess is similarly unreachable. We must put our faith in his instincts directing him to a more promising path, perhaps even towards her.” Orion’s gaze fell on the bubbling remains of the dispatched creature.
“That leaves us with one option: we follow the trail of the attacker. If this blightborn was involved, it’s our only lead. Either it will guide us to the princess, or it will unravel the mystery of who or what is behind this.”
Without pause Lord Coswain quickly checked his gear was all where it was meant to be located and strapped something tighter as he took a drink from a canteen of water. “I wrote too many damn letters of services end to be damn polite about it. My wife is ill, I'm here, I'm not losing my damn head like a child playing soldiers.” He said harshly with evident held down emotion about the fact he was on this chaotic hunt than where he wanted to be.
“Get your gear in order, I can see gaps, and gaps mean you're dead. Straps tight. Almost lost a man due to a loose plate and a fast dagger.” He gave a look at one of the guards, he was being harsh but he also did not want to see him hurt because he did not tell him. He took his responsibility seriously to the soldiers under or about him.
“Seems we have a direction. Are you sure you can carry on?” He felt odd asking the wolf but oddly he respected him too. The … man..wolf had not run away and actively volunteered… and committed. That counted.
”If not take too long, yes. Hurts, can still walk, bite. Need clothes back in village. Grow room and mayb armor.” Valthyr scribbled into the snow. The bleeding seemed to weaken slowly, but it was still dripping a bit. He did not ask for a healer at that point, but just assumed this village of theirs had one. If they had a prince, they should have at least one of those as well. Wasn't a prince one of both Aurelia’s and Lunaris’ super important roles that rendered every tiny scratch a medical emergency threatening the integrity of the kingdom ?
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