The Dragon and Tiger (Crystal Sword hunt)

[Ryujin]

What are you hoping to find, Ryujin?

A question that was no more or less valid than the last time he asked it of himself. “Your purpose in life is to find your purpose and give your whole heart and soul to it” is a philosophy that is incredibly disheartening to a man who once had a purpose but had it stripped from him. Well, stripped might not be the right way to describe the truth of it; bled slowly would be more accurate but it didn’t matter, the end of the story was the same no matter which way you interpreted it. This particular story concluded in a poorly maintained tavern within the fluid borders of Etheria, the southernmost Alerian port city that was well-known for its trade routes with the southern isles.

This wasn’t his home. In fact, this was just another stop on his wandering through life. He hadn’t spent any more time in Etheria than he had any of the other countless cities and towns he’s passed through in the last few years. This was just where Ryujin currently existed. His existence was seated on a wobbly barstool that was gifted with one leg shorter than the other which left him constantly hunched over in a position that he was less than comfortable with in fear that the stool would give out from under him if he leaned too far back. The white cloth that made up the hood that wrapped about his head was pulled down low on his forehead to shade his eyes from a specifically nasty beam of light shining in on him through one of the smeared glass windows at the opposite end of the tavern. It was like the world knew that he had whittled most of the night away at that counter and was punishing him for not doing something productive – or getting sleep.

There was nothing special about this tavern he was drowning himself in. The ambiance was reminiscent of a moldy cellar crossed with an orc dungeon, the ale was warm and tasted poorly, and the barkeep couldn’t pour a consistent pint to save his life. It was a dive, all things considered, mostly populated by those who were in port long enough for the wares of their shipping boats to get unloaded. That isn’t to say that it wasn’t also inhabited by locals; many of the seats on either side of Ryujin were taken by dark-skinned elves that were just ending or starting their days on the docks. It wasn’t much but it was where it was at and he couldn’t seem to find much inspiration to leave.

“Oy, did ya hear about the man-tiger?” said a voice above the clamoring commotion that commonly filled a tavern. Judging from the location and clarity of the voice, the man couldn’t be sitting more than a few feet behind Ryujin, likely at a table.

“What’re ya talkin’ bout? Man-tiger? There’s no such thing ‘round these parts,” replied another man.

“Is so! Heard it from a couple of th’ boys who traveled down the coast. Said they saw it lurkin’ about the crags north of the black sands. Y’know which ones I’m talking ‘bout? Big reward fer anyone man ‘nuff to take ‘im down.”

“Yeah, yeah, but man-tiger, I don’t think so. We’re too cizil… civel… civiledized…” The man struggled to find and pronounce the right word.

“Civilized,” Ryujin said before taking another drink of his piss-warm brew.

“Yeah, civilized! We’re too civilized out here t’have man-tigers running ‘round. Wait…” the jumbled man paused before turning in his seat to face Ryujin. The monk could feel the man’s eyes burrowing into his back. “Ya eavesin’ in on our talkin’? Don’t ya know who we are, boy? We’re men of the Black Sails! Ya don’t get ta listen in on our con… conva…”

“Conversation,” Ryujin finished the thought for the pirate.

As world traveled as Ryujin was, he had never heard of the “the Black Sails” the eloquently spoken man referred to. He never spent long enough time in one place to learn of anything outside of what kind of swill they were serving up from the kegs.

“I think he’s ‘aving a laugh at ya, mate. Pissin’ on the way words come out yer mouth,” said the other, antagonizing the situation and no doubt riling up his companion. Ryujin sensed a confrontation coming, as clear as one would see storm clouds rolling in on the horizon before a rain.

Ryujin set his steel belted mug down on the warped and worn countertop before fishing out a few coin from a leather pouch secured within the confines of his robes. His coins clattered on the counter as he moved to stand, carefully navigating the tipping nature of the uneven barstool. He took up the walking staff leaning against the counter next to him, turned toward the two “gentlemen,” a stout, dirty faced dwarf and lanky dark elf, sitting behind him and offered them a single nod while moving toward the sole exit of the tavern. The two were quick to rise from their chairs and move to intercept his retreat. The odds weren’t very favorable with two against one.

“I apologize for the inconvenience. There doesn’t need to be any trouble.” His words seemed to come out rather flat. The monk loved a good fight but after taking a moment to look over the two who impeded his path and judging them by their raggedy clothes and poorly taken care of weapons, he had very little interest in fighting them. This was one quarrel he didn’t mind if he walked away from. “I’ll be on my way.”

As he took another step forward, the two of them took another step closer until they were standing shoulder to shoulder and effectively eliminated the space that once existed between them. His path to the door was completely gone.

“Ey, I don’t think so, boy. Ya see, ya offended my friend here and we can’t jus’ let ya walk away until ya make peace.” The both of them had found the handles of their swords in their own time. The way no one moved to intervene or give them the boot from the tavern led Ryujin to believe that these two might be a part of whatever law governed these parts. He was certainly just a few moments away of having his last few coins pilfered or taking a sword to gut and being left on the tavern floor for someone to come and clean up.

“I think it’s better for all of us if you just let me pass.” This was exhausting. He had given these men two chances to let him pass without incident. There was a part of him that was infuriated that he had given them that many. One by one, his fingers loosened their grip on his walking staff and stretched to their fullest before wrapping to the well-carved wood once again and securing a firm hold. Unseen beneath the many layers of his robes and partial armor, his muscles did the same; Ryujin was loose and fluid like water but when necessary, at any given notice, as unmovable as stone.

“Right. Let’s skewer this lil’ piggy, then!”

They had their chance. What happened next would only have clarity if it could have been witnessed in slow motion. The two made their move and unsheathed their curved blades in a staggered unison, and were able to hold onto them long enough to see them depart from their hands. Ryujin slid the butt of his walking staff along the gnarled plank of wood underneath the armed hand of one of the men, swiftly bringing it up once it was in position to take an accurate crack at the pommel of the sword. The precise force behind his blow sent the sword straight up and out of the scoundrel’s grip and into one of the crossbeams supporting the tavern roof.

While that sword was still vibrating uncertainly in its new home six feet above their heads, within the breadth of the same moment, Ryujin redirected the tip of his staff down along the backside of the other sword currently being raised to address him. While they battled to keep the man and his sword suppressed, the trained monk lashed out with a straight leopard punch into the meaty joint where sword arm met torso and drove his knuckles deep. The pain of the blow laced through the length of the antagonist’s arm and consequentially caused him to loosen his grip on his weapon long enough for Ryujin’s combating strength to overpower and disarm him.

Before they could comprehend or take another action, the robed warrior delivered the tip of his staff to the side of one’s head and then the other’s in turn. The strikes weren’t particularly strong but where they landed was true, and as a result, both dropped to the floor without the consciousness to support themselves.

All of this occurred within the time it would take someone to lift and take a quick, meaningless sip from their mug. It had ended before they could put their mugs down to enjoy the show. With them down, Ryujin stepped over their resting bodies and out the door without another word. The unsettled sword was still warbling in the wood above the remaining patrons.

[Ryujin]

Man-tiger.

Ryujin had been following the rumors of this hybrid beast across Alerar. He had first heard mention of it while he was staying in a small habitat east of Ettermire. The tale told came in spastic ramblings of an old traveler who swore he had seen the beast lurking among the mountainside as his caravan passed through. No harm came to him or any of the other patrons traveling with him, so the story seemed as tall as it was credible. That was only the beginning of the stories regarding the monstrous tiger that stood on two legs, however.

In Ettermire, the old traveler’s story gained standing when Ryujin overheard another story that a weary trader regaled a tavern audience with. Some of the details might have been slightly different but the overall meat of the encounter was the same – a tiger who walked like a man was stalking the roads out near Etheria. Other stories that were more or less the same as what he had already heard were told as he headed west toward the port town, some were even told by supposed victims of the ferocious beasts and were more than eager to show off their battle scars. Most were lying, of course; the claws of a tiger left very distinct marks that quite unlike those one would receive from being shanked with a dagger on the losing end of a brawl. Some were truthful, though, and that made this mysterious creature dangerous.

North is where the rumors took Ryujin now, after his encounter with the Black Sails in Etheria. North, across the scorching heat of the black sands and to the crags that reside along the only known trade route located through such a desolate location.

It was almost embarrassing how the heat was taking its toll on Ryujin as he crossed the black sands, which he found out wasn’t just a figurative name for the desert expanse. It didn’t help that the only source of hydration he had for the past week was what he could scrounge up in the taverns that littered the road to Etheria. Whatever percent of the body was made up and supported by water, at least half of that was alcohol in Ryujin’s body. Even knowing what type of environment he would be facing before he set out from the port town, you would think he would have enough commonsense to fill his Traveler’s jug with the appropriate amount of water to supplement the journey. He didn’t – he didn’t want to waste what was left of the self-made brew that was currently stored inside. After all, it was his finest attempt yet.

Ryujin only found relief from the heat when the sun set over the horizon. The sands still retained the warmth from the sun’s burning light but at least it was no longer glaring down on him with fiery disdain. Well into the night, he continued to walk north toward his destination, using the position of the moon and the stars in the sky to guide his way. The light provided by that brilliant crescent glowing in the darkness was enough to light his way and did especially well to highlight the silhouette of the crags he had been journeying toward once they came into view in the distance. After nearly a day of walking, he had made it to where the rumors had led him.

It was time to see if there was any truth to the myth of the man-tiger... but not before making camp. It would be incredibly foolish of him - more foolish than it already was - to go up against a beast known for its exceptionally sharp eyesight in such conditions. The mountains already had a treacherous look to them, he couldn't even imagine how dangerous they would be like with a monster hot on his heels. Besides, the time spent waiting for sunrise would do him well, giving him ample time to replenish and refocus the energies he had expended from his adventures on this long day.

[Ryujin]

The first beams of sunlight over the horizon shone upon Ryujin as he was concluding his meditations for the morning. Sleep was unessential to a unique being like him but that did not mean he did not require necessary time to restore his energy. Through meditation, he realigned his energies and focused his chi for the tasks of the day ahead. Sitting cross-legged on the sands before the crags of the man-tiger, Ryujin sit in silence with the exception of the soft noises created by his deliberate, controlled breathing. His hands pointed to the blue sky with thumb pressed to forefinger with the backside of his wrists balanced against the pits alongside the curve of his sharply bowed out knees. He looked completely at peace and in truth, he was.

His meditations allowed him a look into reflections of the past, back to a time when he was more than the one that sat so contently upon the warm sands. While he couldn’t see the memories for what they were, he felt them. At times he could feel the cold depths of the oceans he swam in, or the warmth of the wind rushing along his body as he flew through the air. Ryujin knew what he was and how he came to be but all the same, could not remember a time before he was human. There were times he felt a longing for the days of old to recapture those feelings he knew but didn’t know, to be one of the sky, the earth, the ocean and the flame but knew there was no place in this world for gods long passed. They had their time. Now it was Ryujin’s turn to have his.

The golden irises of Ryujin’s eyes seemed to glow when he revealed them to the graceful rising sun. His gaze focused upon the half-shadowed cliffs ahead of him, wondering about what awaited him. He wondered about his prey. With a final breath, he was done with meditation and moving to his knees so he could pack up his belongings for the trip ahead. Everything that had been taken out during the course of the night was neatly gathered and stowed where it belonged in the small pack he carried with him. Once that was in order, he unsealed the lid of his Traveler’s jug and took a large mouthful of sour-tasting, foul brew that had been fermenting in there for the past few weeks. It tasted wonderful to him regardless how awful it truly was. He was now ready.

~

Ryujin walked the cliff wall in search of the easiest way up. There didn’t seem to be one. It was a tall climb to the first proper outcropping that he could find rest on. While he didn’t find the way up he was looking for, he did find something more prominent. Claw marks and many sets of them, which one could assume was from the many comings and goings of the beast everyone has been seeing. He lacked the right tools to follow the trail straight on but he could manage it from a closeby route.

Proper footing proved to be absolutely necessary right from the start. No sooner than his feet had left the sands did Ryujin have difficulty navigating the steep climbs of the initial cliffs in order to get to the less dangerous plateaus. With great care and precise movements, he was able to shamble his way up to a ledge where he could rest on, which contained a path that led further into the crags through a small gap between two equally monstrous ascents. He didn’t hesitate to take that path despite it being unbelievably narrow simply due to the fact that it wouldn’t require him to climb any higher. It seemed like the safest path to take regardless of how it limited his movement.

This was his adventure for the next few hours. He would ultimately come to a dead end that would require him to climb in order to progress. Ryujin would do so, slowly, and with much troubles but would succeed in the end. He would then take a path or side trail further into cliffs until he came to a point where he could no longer tell where he had come from or where the black sands of the dark desert could be found. To say he was lost was untrue, he knew exactly where he was – fruitlessly chasing a rumor upon the heights of certain death with only sporadic claw marks as a clue. He was starting to feel the fatigue in his muscles from the excessive climbing as well as from the rising heat that often accompanied a desert climate. The high cliffs offered great amounts of shade but that didn’t stop the heat from worming its way in between those towering precipices through the dry winds that weaved between the rocks. He needed a break.

Just then, he heard a roar.

[Ryujin]

“Get out of here!” thundered a roaring voice.

It was a cacophonous roar that shook the mountain with the same reverberating force as the boom from a low flying thunderhead. Ryujin extended his hand out to the rock face next to him and took hold to steady his body against the vibrations rumbling the foundations around him. The tremendous surprise of such a terrible bellow was enough to bring a small grin to the curve of his mouth and the anticipation of the confrontation to come immediately flooded him with adrenaline. Perhaps this man-tiger would be more of a challenge than the idea he pieced together from the various stories told across Alerar.

“You know I can’t do that. You’ve hurt people,” Ryujin said calmly. His voice was loud enough to be heard over the clattering of dislodged pebbles and earthen debris tumbling down the sides of the nearby rock walls. A free hand came up to swipe back the cowl of his robes until it freely fell away to rest at the nape of his neck, leaving his golden eyed vision unobstructed as it combed over every inch of the terrain in search of the beast. The passage through the crevice he had taken led out into a plateau of solid ground walled in by high peaks on all sides, giving it the appearance of a gladiatorial arena with a beautiful view of the open sky. It was enclosed and that made it dangerous.

“Do you think I want to hurt people?!” the beast roared again. Although Ryujin was listening, he was still unable to determine the origin of the voice. The shape of the surrounding crags made it difficult to pinpoint, as it made the sound seem like it was coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. The words chosen by the unseen monster were not unheard by the warrior monk and immediately added complexity to the situation if they were truthful. It would appear that his actions were not his own if he were to believe the meaning behind those angry words.

“That’s an interesting thought,” Ryujin stated coolly as he moved to unsling his traveler’s jug off of his body and set it slowly to the ground before him. Both of his hands came to press on the lid of the half-man sized jug, using it as a prop to support his full weight as he continued combing over the area. “Why don’t you come down here and we can talk about that over a drink from my finest brew yet?”

Before he had time to react, the jug was knocked out from its place underneath him. Surprisingly, however, Ryujin did not move in the slightest and still appeared standing there as if his weight were distributed on the crutch he previously had. The jug was heard crashing against the sidelong rock wall, screaming as it shattered in countless pieces of porcelain and fortified wood. No longer did the warmth of the sun grace the top of the monk’s freshly shaved head, as it had been blocked out by a creature of monstrous size but that came second to the mourning of his brew which was now being drank up by the dry, thirsty mountain.

“Do you think this is a game?!” he roared again.

Ryujin’s muscles loosened up and he slipped from the rigid stance he had been frozen in moments before, instead choosing to backtrack a few steps so he could get a better look at this terrible desecrator of jugs. His gold-colored eyes did not betray him – the monster that stood before him had all the characteristics one would expect of a tiger. Brilliant orange fur with the occasional discoloration from lack of washing, bold black stripes wrapping to his sides and, he assumed, around his back, feline-like whiskers, a snarling mouthful of sharp fangs, and not to mention the razor-sharp claws ending each of his thick fingers. The beast was nearly twice the height of the monk and at least ten times the weight, most of which came from the rippling muscles cascading the length of his gargantuan form. He was most definitely an imposing caricature of a man.

Given the seriousness of the situation, it didn’t seem appropriate to take this man and his questions lightly. On the other hand, it was because of him that Ryujin wouldn’t have anything to drink on his way to the next tavern – and he was a tiger, which was pretty much the main reason why he decided to hunt down this trade route menace in the first place. He couldn’t explain why – maybe it was something from a past life – but he just couldn’t pass up the opportunity of stringing a tiger by its tail.

“Not with that kind of attitude, it isn’t. You might be too big for the games I play, anyway, cat,” Ryujin baited. “You’d lack the finesse it would take to complete with me.”

A nerve was struck. The behemoth tiger lunged toward Ryujin with a wide, feral swipe of his clawed hand, screaming unintelligibly with a roar somewhere along the lines of a “Rwaa!” followed by a deep, animated growl. The attack came faster than the monk expected and although he was able to bend his body in a manner that avoided being cleaved in two; he was still subjected to the unreal pain of a single claw slicing horizontally across the flesh of his upper abdomen. Immediately after, still wincing to the sting of pain blazing through him, Ryujin jerked forward and dove into a roll, letting his momentum carry him underneath the large arm of the man-tiger and into the clear of the enclosed arena.

He turned to face the beast, taking only a split second to inspect his suffered wound through the gaping hole now present in the front of his robes. The damage was superficial – only a scratch across his skin in a well of spilled blood, nothing more.

One thing was certain, it was time to take this creature seriously.

[Gabriel]

Minutes after Ryujin’s departure from the Etherian tavern
~

The battered door heading the tavern’s front barely had time to rest on its worn hinges before it was hurled open with a crash. The door warbled as it bounced off of the wall, vibrating soundly as it slowly worked its way back to a close though it would never find its home within the jamb. Instead, a body blocked its returning path and held it wide for the loud clanking figures that followed behind. Several well-armored bodies belonging to the knights of the Alerian Military entered the decrepit little hole in the wall in a single file line before fanning out to take several advantageous positions within the bowels of the tavern. Their loud metallic footfalls clomped on the hardwood floor loud enough to wake the slumbering brigands who previously made bed in their own unconscious drool, throwing them into a panic at the sheer amount of armed knights infiltrating the crude establishment. The bartender, unfazed by this intrusion, kept to his business of wiping down the bar counter.

The last to enter was a knight unlike the others. He walked with an arrogance completely unbefitting a fighter in service of the King, wearing a deliberate grin on his lips that often left people uneasy. His unruly blonde hair moved with each proud step he took forward while his sharp blue eyes, as cold as the deep ocean, surveyed the room, momentarily taking pointed interest in the sword gutting the support beam above his head. Unlike the helmeted others that accompanied him, the smooth features of his unscarred face were left open and on display for anyone who looked upon him. He was immediately recognized by some simply by his demeanor; those were the ones who immediately straightened up the moment they saw him enter the tavern. It was the others that he was concerned about, the ones who didn’t know him at first sight.

He would have to change that.

“Greetings, gentlemen – I’m sure you all have busy days of wallowing in your own, putrid filth ahead of you, but I was hoping to steal a moment of your time to ask a few questions,” he said with a most jubilant vibrancy. A couple of the more rugged patrons, who were likely only in Etheria for the night, protested loudly to being degraded by this pompous knight. Others, the fortunate souls who had heard the stories of this man, kept to themselves in their own little dank corners of the tavern. The well-spoken knight made sure to make eye contact with those who sought to rouse trouble from his measured words, identifying them and marking their faces in the forefront of his mind.

He exchanged a glance with a couple of his men and nodded toward the outspoken drunkards. The knights immediately moved to apprehend the sailors, against their wishes if you were to guess by all the thrashing and flailing, and lead them out of the tavern through the thoroughly guarded entrance.

“First, allow me to introduce myself. I am Gabriel d’Harcourt.” A portion of the remaining “more drunk than not” crowd tightened up as the name filled their incoherent heads. There were a handful of stories currently roaming about the lands of Alerar about the knight from the capital city. None of them spoke about him in terms of endearment.

“Ah, so you have heard of me. Good, then I shall skip the pleasantries. We’re tracking a particularly horrid werebeast that has been targeting our trade caravans from Raiaera. If the rumors my men have heard are to be taken as truth, we’re led to believe he’s made a new home here in Etheria. What have you heard?” Gabriel questioned.

“Ey, ya think he’s talkin ‘bout the…” started one of the bruised Black Sails’ members before his companion hushed him into silence with a series of shushes. This caught Gabriel’s immediate attention.

“You two are of the Black Sails Armada, is that correct?” The two nodded reluctantly to Gabriel’s posed inquiry. Their blackened boots and accessories were standard issue for the Armada, and stood out against the lower quality of equipment worn by the majority of the sailors in port. “Did you have something to say about the werebeast?”

“Aye. Well, I don’t know much ‘bout a wh-wh-werebeast, sir, but I did hear ‘bout a man-tiger from a couple of my mates. They saids they seen it hangin’ round the crags ta th’ north of here, jus’ off th’ trade road. Bit of nasty fella from what I hear. Ya’ think that’s th’ beast yer lookin’ for, sir?” His words were more lisped and slurred than before, possibly in part to the nasty lick he took to the side of the head if that egg popping out of it was any indication.

“I’m embarrassed I understood the most of that. Thank you, you’ve been most informative.” Gabriel turned his attention to the rest of the room before raising the question again. “Has anyone else heard anything about the werebeast or this “man-tiger” our dull-mouthed friend mentioned? No? Well, then, I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure but I don’t know if you would believe me. I most certainly wouldn’t. I hope I never have the privilege of seeing your fine faces again.”

With those less than kind words, Gabriel exited the tavern and proceeded to move to the fronts of the three men who were presented to him on the road. They were on their knees with their hands bound behind their backs, eyes looking up to the fair-haired knight who paced back and forth just a few feet before them. They didn’t pay much attention to the way his hand casually rested on the pommel of the sword sheathed at his side, or how his fingers delicately stroked at the worn grip of its handle like a child affectionately smothering their favorite toy.

“I can tell by the looks of you swine that you’re not from around here. Sailors of the high seas, if I had to take a guess,” Gabriel talked and reasoned mostly to himself as looked from one to the other. They growled and sputtered obscenities but the proud knight was deaf to them; he only had a mind for his own words. “What should I do with these three? To come to lands of Alerar and show such disrespect for the men who swore an oath to protect it? That’s unforgivable. In turn, I must repay such discourtesy with a punishment most unforgettable. Don’t you agree?”

The bound trio hollered and roared their disagreement but by the way Gabriel’s questions came out and the manner in which he spoke them made it seem like he wasn’t addressing them in that moment. Truthfully, he wasn’t.

“Of course,” he said with a darkened grin. “I knew you would.”

Gabriel turned to the knights hovering over their captives, his expression soured dramatically from the light-hearted one it previously displayed to a countenance chock full of disdain.

“Sever their heels. Slice their tendons in two and don’t stop until you hit bone. I want their bodies to be as lame as their brains. What good is a deckhand if they can’t walk the ship?” Gabriel paused then addressed the remainder of his men. “The rest of you are with me. Tonight, we ride for the north route in search of the beast. With any luck, we’ll have this all taken care of by daybreak.”

His face lightened once again as he regarded the three he sentenced moments ago.

“Right, well, we must be off. I hope your stay in Alerar is a pleasant one. It truly is beautiful this time of year. Farewell.”

Gabriel turned and walked toward his horse. No sooner than he turned his back, the air was filled with the horrific, pained screams of the three men as the backs of their feet were opened up. It was music—albeit, a haunting selection—to his ears.