Sanguine Seasons

[The Emerald Hind]

[This thread is temporarily closed for Calaelen and myself. This may change after the next reply, but, then again, it may not.]

The Great Mother lay upon her spherical bed, reclined in her typical fashion, her great form enveloping all and stretching before all the corners of existence to claim the solidity of the physical realm. Her eternal eyes remained opened to the sky, peering into the world through deep jet cores, her sight going beyond the grass blades and around the tree leaves and over the mountain tops. And slowly she changed her garments from the bright hope of the summer greens for something a little more suitable to the brisk winds that arose from the west, stirring her heart so that she longed for the hues of fire, the shades of a failing life, and so all that could be seen slowly turned from emerald to ruby and gold.

The great arbors shook with dread for they knew this time was due, and the Balance would soon claim its dues, for nothing stayed forever, and all things shifted for the sake of an intricate dance of which all life knew the steps and followed that dictate, deviating only where variation seemed plausible. Thus, the malachite tiles that adorned the forest canopy became studded with flashes of amber and scarlet, and the grass turned golden, and the fruits ripened well past bursting, and so the bounty of the Mother was delivered just before the last streaks of warmth were given to the world. Of this the animals took note and busied themselves with their autumn-time preparations, storing what food they could either within their dens or within themselves, or they simply fled their summer home and went to more hospitable climes.

So all the forest was alive and in a fuss as squirrels chattered at one another over the fallen nuts and acorns, as does met in harems to be guarded by their seasonal mates, and as geese and other birds gathered into great flocks so as to flee together. It was here the girl arrived, along the very edge of Blackthorn forest, breaking upon the change of tides that forced all to writhe in explicit ways, all for the sake of Balance. But she was not here to contemplate the way the world moved, or to even admire the bright flashes of gold and crimson; no, she was not even here upon her own will. There she stood on the edge of oblivion and looking in, drawn by the burden she wore upon her throat.

The heavy stone pulsed with its inner fire, glowing greenly as it directed her to the forest’s border, where field turned to brush and brush to trees. It was here that a task was demanded of her, of the sort Kaia could not understand. It had been so long since the stone last awoken, and that last time it merely reassured her and gave her good council, and so she left her homeland of Avani and her life of destitute disgrace to travel to a world she knew nothing of, to go against everything in her character and seek change when she wanted everything to stay the same, to back to how things had always been. But nothing ever remained the same, much to the herbalist’s dismay, and here she was weaving her way past bushes and groves so as to reach a destination she yet did not know.

All the way she grumbled, her brows knit tightly as she followed the geas that pulled at her throat and commanded her to follow like a good hound. What was she to do? She had tried to fight it when the pull first tugged upon the fringe of her consciousness, but the more she ignored it the sicker she felt, until she heaved all the contents of her stomach along the side of the road she had been working trying to earn an honest coin. Even then she did her best to remain firm, to ignore this foreign entity and its newly discovered desires, but then a great pressure was exerted just behind her eyes. It felt like her head would burst, and she cried out like a banshee, catching the attention of passing farmers and travelers. They looked upon her with raised brows and shook their heads without pity. Kaia was so embarrassed that she took to the fields and hid for some time, shivering against the pain that grew all the stronger.

Finely she could not take it any longer, and within a few minutes she was giving into the Earth Stone’s will. The act of following the direction of an inanimate object made her ill: she had no control in this venture, and she had to give all her spirit to this wretched thing. Had it ever done this to her mother? No, it could not have, as her mother never disappeared, and most definitely not because she was forced to do so by a piece of gaudy jewelry. So why was it doing this to her now? Had she gone insane? No, she was too stubborn for that, and Kaia knew it. She was not mad--well, not mentally so--but she was a hostage to the very decoration she wore. How weak did that maker her? She could not bare to answer that question, but she was not given a chance to, either, for suddenly the impulse to move released her and she fell instantly to her knees.

She caught herself upon a nearby tree, and she clung to its body with all her might. Brown, frizzy tendrils drifted past her eyes as she bowed her head and panted with mental exhaustion. She breathed deep, heavy breaths and tried her best to make her body relax, but to no avail. This entire thing had her worked up well past comfort, and there was little hope that her condition would improve until she knew just why she was here and why this goddess forsaken stone wanted her here in the first place. She got to her feet and dusted the dirt from the knees of her baggy trousers then strained her deep green tunic. Hazel shades then wondered about the forest edge, glancing here and there to see what this was all about. Now there was just that pounding urgency that made her pulse quicken and a dull pressure in the back of her head that threatened to rise should she balk. At this she sneered, but she could do nothing else: she dared not test this stone and its power.

The herbalist moved forward slowly, her boots crunching the few fallen leaves scattered underfoot. The wind whisked past her as it spun past tree trunks, rustling the leaves as it went. But with it came the a cry that made the hair on the back of the wisewoman’s neck stand on end. A great wail sprang into her ears, wrenching through the internal labyrinth of her auditory senses like a barbed screw, winding its way to the very center of her design so it could stab jagged nails deep into her. It began as a high keen that crescendoed with such speed and volume it seemed impossible that the owner of such a voice could continue without a bleeding throat, but the sound persisted, jumping up the scale to a shrill, sharp note barely perceivable by human ears before falling down with a strangled gurgle--then silence. Upon the first note, Kaia instinctively covered her ears and cringed against the force of the sonorous vibrations. The keening death cry--for it was too harsh to be anything less--made her stomach lurch and her heart sink, and all her body shook with terror and weakness.

What could cause a creature such pain as to make it cry in such a way? Honestly, Kaia had no desire to find out. This was not because she was a coward, but just plain common sense: you want to live, you hear something in the throes of death, you stay away from what you heard. But, then again, what got that poor thing was on the prowl, and the healer could be next. The thought was enough to make her shudder, and she looked about reflexively, her senses on the alert. She crouched low in an attempt to hide herself, and began to crawl along her belly to the source of the sound. At least she could make an attempt to see what caused all this.

She moved very slowly, inching along in painful increments, trying her best not to make a sound. Unfortunately, the Avanin was no mercenary nor a spy, and she had none of their cunning or skill. Even her hunting was limited to traps and speed, so things such as stealth were little known to her. So as she slithered to where she believed the origin of the cry resided, there was quite some rustling and twig-snapping. Each time she stopped and ducked her head, berating herself inwardly and cursing the horrid stone all the way. It was now quite plain to her that this is what the stone wanted, for it eased its grip on her the closer she got to the source. It seemed the damned thing wanted to get her killed. She just hoped she could deny it the chance.

After a long and painful journey on her belly--a trip that would have taken only a few seconds had she just walked normally--she came to a small clearing. She remained in the brush, peering into the tiny glen from under the cover of a holly bush, which pricked and poked at her menacingly. But she gave it no mind after she saw the devastation smeared across the golden-green grass. Before her were the remains of an aurochs, its guts strewn about like a grotesque party decoration, the slimy, bloody tubes glistening painfully where they festooned the grass and the nearby bushes. Its limbs were in disarray, and its head was yards away from the rest of its body, or, at least the bulk of it. What remained of the rest was reduced to dark bloody puddles, steaming in the chilled air. Bits of hide were everywhere, as were chunks of flesh.

And amongst it all stood a terrible creature, a huge monstrous beast that greatly resembled a large lion. Like a big cat, its body was long and sleek, covered in a sleek tawny coat spotted with dark brown splashes. And the way it crouched over the rump of the bull aurochs with its large claws exposed, sinking deep into the flesh, was all very feline-like, but there the resemblance ended. It had a massive head with large, round ears. The muzzle was short and wide, with huge teeth, and the eyes were set forward, large and slanted. The nose was very human-like, and it even had humanoid lips that stretched across its enormous teeth. Overall, the face resembled that of an ape stretched over the skull of a cat, and covered with the same short, sleek fur as the rest of the body. And then there was the tail, which curled around its body as it crouched over the massacred victim. The tail was long and slender, but it was tipped with a small round club covered with spikes. It was the tail that gave the creature away and caused Kaia’s heart to leap into her throat and threaten to escape through her mouth.

A manticore? This star blasted stone wants me to kill a manticore? she wailed mentally, screaming at the stone within the confines of her mind. But that little pressure in the back of her head did not leave or even waver, but she had the feeling that she was being stared down by a greater being, forced into submission, forced to do the things bidding. I hope you know that this will get me killed. But that is what you want, huh? This time the presence flared with green light, little tendrils striking at her thoughts, but not in a menacing way. Instead, the vines of light caressed her and reassured her, and she had the sense that the thing meant her no harm. Yet, here it was forcing her to go up against a manticore, a vile creature that killed not only for food but for sport, and its usual targets were not typically aurochs and other such animals, but sentient beings, such as humans. This must have been the stone’s reasoning, as well, as it flared again, this time with approval. At this the girl snorted--mentally, of course--and sunk down lower to the loam of the earth.

Well, now what was she going to do? Lay there all day and watch it consume the beast. Well, there was a thought, at least, but where she was made her an easy target, and it was by sheer luck that she was downwind of the beast. Well, at least it was lucky the beast did not catch scent of her; unfortunately for Kaia she could perceive the stench of death from the aurochs and the reek of rotten flesh from the manticore. If it was not for the fact that she had already emptied her stomach of all its contents, she was certain she would have done so then and there. But her initial thought was not something she really wanted to follow. She was an easy target, as she was easily pinned under the brush, and there was no way of knowing which direction the monster might take to leave the clearing.

Stifling a sigh, the girl wriggled away from her hiding spot, thanking the Mother that the manticore was so deeply involved in its gruesome meal that it did not even notice her. That at least allowed her the chance to walk a few paces out and extract the staff belted to her back from its bindings and the sickle tucked away in her workbag. These were her only weapons, as pathetic as they were, but they were all she had. She would have to make do and find a way to do away with the manticore with them, or else die. The latter was not an option: she had too much for which to live. This beast served no purpose, this wretched monster that consumed whole villages, leaving not a trace of its victims. It ate more than it could hold, and killed for fun only to consume its toy days later, after it had ripened in the bright sun. This Kaia had to stop, before it chose a sentient victim. She could not let it live, not now that she saw it, not now that she knew what its existence might mean. It was her responsibility to get rid of the thing, and that she would do. And the stone responded with a warm green-brown light.

So, with her mind made up and her heart hardened, the girl slowly stocked around the circle of trees, positioning herself just behind the beast. It took some time to get to her destination, all to ensure that she was not heard or scented, and once there she crouched low along the brushline, establishing a firm grip upon her staff and securing her sickle in her belt for easy access (she could not fight with both weapons/tools at once). Then she waited, waited for the thing to fill its belly to bursting and grow lazy. Perhaps, with luck, it would even fall asleep. This she could only pray for, and as she prayed she settled for a long sit down, watching with disgust as the monster devoured every bit of the aurochs.

[Calaelen]

“Dear boy, do you intend to hunt or do you intend to ride your docile beast about through the woods behind us?” The group of men guffawed at the expense of the young noble, stilling the horses beneath them as they did so. The one acting as jokester and general ass for the day, a heavyset minor noble of Baroness Illia Entadaa’s barony, Sir Victor Berhold clapped a hand on his own leg as if congratulating himself. Surrounding him were the others, a gathering of minor nobles and wealthy merchants.

“All little more than wealthy peasants, the lot of them. Nobility, Ha! So called, ‘wealthy merchants’… lumberjacks that can chop a tree faster than another. Ridiculous,” Terriance thought as he tossed the reigns of his trusted steed, Maddison, over its head and to the saddle. The leather thong rapped against the hard leather saddle, bringing the waiting horses head up from the grass. “We shall see who has the final laugh this day, when you all are laying upon your tables tonight and sicking up your supper. I am no immature dolt, and I am no idiot either.”

Terriance shuffled his legs into position, tossing himself onto the horse. His tight pants stiffened with the movement, momentarily showing more than intended. The young noble rose on the stirrups and situated his clothing. While standing he shifted his fencing belt, gracefully cupping the hilt of his rather plain rapier as he did so. It was the plain, ‘pathetic’ weapon that the men had been laughing at.

“And we are off!” Victor cried as he brusquely planted a heel along the ribs of his horse. The wild stallion, in all of its intimidating fashion, rose on its back legs for a moment before falling back and charging towards the wood line. The group was easily composed of thirty hunters and a servant or squire apiece. They rumbled through the dusty streets of the town of Olme, the people of the lumber town taking cover from the clots of dirt that came from the line.

At the rear was the young noble, taking the dust of the other nobles with a steady grace that barely faltered. His head remained high, his hands firm, and his horse was slowly gaining speed. Terriance was not one to rush the beast into action. He believed fully in the treatment of the animal should be equal to that of any other being, except in times of haste. Also, his fear of the animal’s size and strength remained an ever present factor at the back of his mind.


~ ~ ~The Brokenthorn Forest~ ~ ~

The others had long since left the brooding noble behind, instead opting to charge ahead like savage men. Terriance could do little but sigh at the predicament. At his side was the assigned squire, Gerrund as he had introduced himself. The man was well kept, dressed in the emerald on black livery of the Baroness Entadaa, and with his head risen the young noble could see his keen eye.

“Sir,” the man said. The squire was possibly only a year younger than the young noble, but the title was appropriate. Under normal circumstances, such as back in the comfort of Salvar, the young man would have mentioned the lack of formality between them. However, in the unknown world of Scara Brae the formality assisted the young man greatly. He was also afraid that allowing the servant to lax on the formalities would cause dissention later, when the word spread about the soft noble from the mainland. “Did you hear that noise?”

Indeed the noble had not. His honey eyes shifted from the man to the wood line of Brokenthorn. He rubbed lightly at the side of his face, feeling the first approach of perspiration budding on the edge of his hairline. It would be a long day, was all that came to mind while he stopped his horse. Already the sun’s glare was becoming annoyingly tedious, creating a blanket of humidity that he was not used to.

“I must apologize, I did not. Would you care to explain what you heard?” The boy said as he returned his gaze back to the man.

“It was a very high screech, sir. It seemed to be a great distance, yet pulled at my chest as if a call of death.” The man pointed towards the woods. His opposite hand was resting on the longsword at his side and with his elbow he caused the steel rimmed shield on his back to tap against his light armor. “It was mightily distressin’, sir.”

“Distressing,” Terriance reprimanded shortly, “You may go very far, but nothing will impress your leadership more than a keen word. Good grammar and proper pronunciation are paramount on a field of battle.”

“Umm… yes, sir.”

“Anyway,” the noble shrugged, turning Maddison towards the woods. “I suppose, if the cry was one of our fellow comrades in dire peril that we should be assisting the poor man. If it is a wanderer lost in the woods encountering trouble, we shall assist them as well, as it is the creed of a noble to support the lesser. You, my good man, shall be riding with the far more interesting of the group, that I can promise.”

The squire gently slid the steel blade from its leather sheath and pushed an arm through the leather thongs across the back of his oak, steel studded and rimmed shield. Both fit him, very well Terriance noted. If he had been a little prettier the young noble would have struck up much more lively a conversation with him. Though, unfortunately for the young man, the boy was too burly and manly to be of interest.

“Away then, sir?” Terriance tussled his chestnut hair, quietly wondering to himself whether a gaunt through unknown forests would be so wonderful an idea. Then again, he was a noble and expected to bring back some sort of trophy during the day of gruff sport. He hoped, even as he tightened his gentle hands on the reigns, that no true trouble was at the end of the supposed scream.

((Very sorry for the wait, I am yet getting accustomed to playing the character. If you would like to have the two come into the woods, riding or not, that is fine with me. Do as you wish and I will play along.))

[The Emerald Hind]

For some time the girl had remained in her station, crouched low amongst the bushes and vines, her staff held firmly in both hands, although, her stance was improper from a lack training in such weaponry. Yet, the staff was all she had, and it was solid enough to deliver a sound smack across the skull, which was just what Kaia intended to do to the manticore. The vile creature still feasted upon its bloody kill, gorging to the point of bursting, its huge belly round with the innards of the animal. Already the thing had devoured the main body of the aurochs including the bones and hide, and now it gnawed upon the skull, which had been some distance away from the rest of the animal. Of the body, there was no sign, not even blood, for the fiend had been so greedy as to even lick the grass and surrounding vegetation clean. It had been an unnerving sight, one that caused the girl to shudder where she stood, but she remained resolute, adopting the very essence of her surroundings so that she remained as still and quiet as a tree, as unmoving and stubborn as a rock. And as both, she was patient, waiting for the creature to fall asleep so that she could make her move.

But no sooner had the beast finished all but he cranium of the poor bull's head, the monster purring as happily as a house cat, there came a faint rustling some distance behind her. The cause of it was so far off that she could not perceive, not with her senses turned to the opposite direction, not with all intentions trained single-mindedly upon the grotesque feline-like monster. Unfortunately, such ignorance of what was to come did not extend to the manticore, for it paused in mid-bite from its crunching down on the skull, and its humanoid head swiveled about upon its thick neck, the fringe of dark-brown fur that surrounded the pate dripping with blood. Its ears flicked forward to receive all that it could of the direction the sound stirred, but the remote crackle and pounding of hooves was not the only sound it encountered, for there was something far nearer than the riders who came charging through the forest, whose procession Kaia remained unaware.

No, in fact, the girl did not even wonder what was coming from behind, for she froze still as those golden eyes—so much like any human’s—searched the tree line, its round ears twitching irritably. In a feeble effort to conceal herself from its senses she ducked down and held her breath, clutching the staff all the closer to her form. Such actions were made in vain, as her quick motion only attracted the beast to her location, and its tedious business of locating her by the sound of her hushed breath and pounding heart were severed by the quick gasp and the sudden shift in light and shadow. The creature let out a menacing growl as it abandoned the aurochs skull and whipped about, its heavily laden stomach bulged just enough to quell some of the manticore’s inherent, catlike grace. Despite its additional weight, however, it remained stealthy, and there was little doubt that it could still take down yet another victim if it so chose. Perhaps it would not eats its prey right then and there, but the intruder would be dead all the same, and the beast would make it a plaything until it grew hungry again. With such primitive, sinister intents held in its relatively tiny mind, the monstrosity stalked towards Kaia, its rotten breath lacing the air with an acrid stench.

The girl peered through patchwork of leaf and light and spied the monster coming all the closer to her, inching its way so as to remain out of her poorer senses. It was near enough that even if the girl ran, it could pounce upon her in little time and overtake her with its weight and strength. If she held her position, she had even slimmer chances of survival as she held little skill with her staff, and her sickle was not the sort of blade meant for defending oneself against a man-eating chimera. So, either way she was doomed. Would she run like a coward or stand against this foul beast? Or will I merely crouch here and wonder, and continue to curse at this horrid stone that forced me into this situation? Yes, she had been doing exactly that, for all this time she sat there and watched the manticore approach she was weighing her options as the very back of her mind continued with a rather colorful tapestry of profanity focused on her plight.

You damned fool! Get up and fight! she screamed at herself, her very thoughts rocking through her skull in a great cadence of fear and anger. At that she took her life from the hands of Fate and sprang from before the cover of the bush, not even noticing as she stumbled past it with all loss of grace. Instead, she steadied herself with the weight of her staff and whipped it about frantically before her, the larger end of it creating a large arc followed by the whirl of stirred currents. The manticore was so surprised by such a tactic that it startled from its crouch position and retreated a few paces, pulling back is rather small head, all its massive paws meeting at a single point. The thing snarled at the girl angrily and pinned its ears back in shock, but as the staff did not make contact with it the beast quickly recovered and saw Kaia for her inexperienced vulnerability.

Taking a few steps back, it began a weary circle around her, growling as it shifted positions in a fluid motion. Then it sprang after assuming a sketchy bow and cut through the air with a loud sneering roar. But, somehow, by some long forgotten grace and speed, the girl managed to tumble out of the way, although, she fell clumsily to the forest floor just measures away from the monster. At this, the creature swiped out with a large paw, all claws extracted, and so tore at the girl’s unprotected leg. It scored four long gashes along the length of her thigh down to her knee, at which point Kaia tore away from it with a scream. The pain blinded her as it seared through her flesh, and it seemed she had never felt such agony in all her life. Reflexively, one hand reached for the injured limb even as the other hand held firm to her staff, wielding it around ineffectively to take another swipe at the beast. But the manticore merely batted the trivial thing away as if bored and swung around the rest of its body, its long clubbed tail aimed for the Avanin’s head.

Still writhing in agony, she saw the poisonous barbs of the spiked tail with barely enough time to duck and crunched herself to the ground with a cry. But as she pressed herself flat another swipe of a clawed paw was made at her, forcing the girl to roll over the injured leg and out of the way, but not before winning another set of long gashed along her ribs. Another scream let loose, but as she rolled her left hand, which had abandoned the hurt leg, went to her belt and pulled the scythe free from its bindings, then she thrust the thing up just as the envenomed tail sailed inches before her face. Then there was a mighty screech and blood spurt everywhere, covering Kaia’s face and torso in sticky fluid. Then the deadly club fell beside her, leaking blood where it fell upon the crimson and emerald carpet of the glen.

But even as Kaia won a large score against the manticore, having parted it with its most deadly weapon, it was still armed with large claws and sharp fangs, and the pain that overcame it transformed to anger. Enraged and outraged, the monster flew threw the air and landed squarely upon the girl, its claws sinking deeply into her shoulders as it bore down upon her, its rank breath seeping into her senses like a cloud and its dark blood pouring over her legs as it convulsed in agony. All that kept the monster from ripping out her throat was the virtue of her agility as she brought the staff in her right hand to meet the left, which had surrendered the sickle to the ground, and now with all her strength she barred the manticore’s hideous muzzle from full access to her body with the shaft of the weapon. But she could not hold out for long, not with the beast’s weight coming down upon her, and soon even the additional strength lent to her by fear and the desire to live would not hold out.

But unknown to Kaia, as she kicked and thrashed against the strength of the manticore, trying her best to throw it from her body even as she struggled to keep its deadly fangs away from her face, the possibility of help was on its way in the form of pounding hooves and death-tipped weapons. No thought of assistance of this touched her, and so she continued her battle, losing by measures as the pain of her injured leg and ribs raged against her, joining the agony caused by the claws that sunk so deeply into her shoulders.

[Feel free to bunny the manticore as much as you like, but please do not kill it off yet. I'd just hate for the action to end so quickly, is all.]

[Calaelen]

A flurry of dust and clods of dirt were tossed by the galloping pair as they moved quickly towards the wood line. The young lord’s coat danced in the wind created with the motion. His eyes were squint, and between his teeth mute expletives escaped. A hand was loosed from the reigns and used to push against the unyielding saddle. What little relief came of the movement was better than nothing, and again the boy cursed.

“We shall see if I ever ride upon such grand, unused saddles again,” Terriance mumbled. His voice was barely audible above the drone of the beating hooves. Somehow the young squire heard it nonetheless. His head perked and between squinted eyes and gritted teeth he felt the need to understand his charge’s words.

“What was that, sir?” The boy questioned, tilting his head slightly. The slightly lilt was enough to catch the corner of the young lords honey eyes. He responded with a grunt, unbecoming and out of character to say the least. “We will have to dismount when we get to the forests edge. It is too dense.”

His gentle eyes caught hold of the looming trees, which looked as if they had grown a close hundred feet. Though the light breeze from the galloping horses caused him to squint, he could see well enough to notice the heavy brush and density of the trees. It would be quite difficult to run the horses through. But someone was in trouble, where they not?

“We will slow, but not dismount good boy.” Terriance offered in response as he pulled back on his leather reigns. The horse slowed, but continued with its wide gait. Gerrund followed suit. In his armor, pulling at the reigns, he looked the picture of a future knight. The young lord tapped his shoulder and pointed across his horse’s neck. “It appears that a path, though minor it may be, is already begun. Perhaps it would be easiest if you took the lead? You seem to be more appropriated attired for any rough situation that may occur.”

“Of course, sir, it would be an honor,” Gerrund replied hastily. He tugged at the reigns and pulled his horse towards the mere footpath, probably nothing more than an animal made path. Again the eyes of the young noble wandered, though an accompanying shudder tingled up his arms. The boy might have been a little burly, but he held a unique air about him that was peculiarly fascinating.

Under hooves shod with steel twigs snapped and leaves were tussled. The two figures broke through the low boughs of the moderately large trees; their steeds broke through the lower brush. The noise was enough to send the forest scattering. Overhead birds took to fleet flight, at the foreground squirrels scurried, and in the distance the cries of animals emanated.

Over the beat of the shallow stride the sound of a beastly growl caught the tipped ears of the young noble. He tugged gentle at the reigns, pulling on Maddison ever so lightly. The horse drew back and slowed with its master’s gentle touch. Terriance saw the head of his assigned squire turn towards him just before the boy’s horse burst through the final row of hedge. Merely a second later the lord followed.

Maddison drew back with the new sight and scent.

The young lord toppled with the sudden shifting steed, his seating unsteady as it was. While the world tumbled to the eyes of the young noble, a fierce battle cry resounded through the small clearing. Terriance’s outstretched arms struck the ground first, allowing him to tumble rather stupidly to his knees. The maneuver barely saved his fragile neck from being shattered.

With mouth agape the young noble watched the lightly armored front legs of Gerrund’s mount barrel into the meaty side of the monstrosity. He looked around at the same time, looking for the source of the cry. What he found was a scene of devastation that caused the afternoons meal to slowly rise again. The entire area was caked in blood, entrails, and limbs. Terriance was so occupied with the valiant attack and bloody carnage that he nearly overlooked what the young squire had charged into.

“Lord, be with me,” he muttered as the full image of the fanged and spotted manticore came to view. The tumbling monster was coated in a blood, blotches of deep crimson that masked its black spots. Terriance watched a moment longer. He saw the exposed talons of the lion-like paws open and close as the squinted eyes of the beast popped open. The growl the beast loosed was low, guttural, feral. “Be with us all.”

It was just then that the eyes of the young lord were drawn away from the mounted squire and his prey to that of the wounded woman. He turned to Maddison and took the precaution of wrapping the reigns around the pommel of the saddle. As soon as the leather was secured, for ease of escape, the young lord bolted for the woman. His light leather boots flicked clods of dirt as he moved, and unintentionally created a cloud of dust that drifted towards the fallen woman.

“Dear me, are you alright?” Terriance said as he crouched low and hovered over the woman. His delicate fingers stroked the outside of her cheek, tracing her jaw line and removing the hair from her face. It was at that point that the destroyed carcass of the unfortunate auroch came to sight and the unbelievable amount of blood was finally attributed to a singular source. “Please, we must move.”

Before him the guttural growl had risen in pitch and the neighing of the horse cried in fear. The manticore’s paw rose, its razor sharp talons swiping at the slow mount. In the blink of an eye the chest of the horse had been removed. A spray of hot blood mixed with that of the dead bulls and the shrill bawl of pain was like a rusty dagger being drawn slowly across the young lord’s mind. Luckily the quick thinking boy had the mind to escape, barely avoiding the horse’s collapse atop him by throwing himself violently from the saddle.

He too rolled to avoid much injury, but unlike Terriance the man expertly tumbled. In a fluid motion Gerrund was on his feet and moving quickly, an amazing maneuver considering the armor and shield that he held tightly too moved with him. Stupidly, the young lord rose and watched as the squire and manticore faced one another, both unmoving but rigidly waiting for the other.

Terriance could feel the tension between the two. With his left hand he swiped the small rapier from its leather sheath at his side, with his right he offered to assist the woman to her feet. He was not sure that she was even well enough to talk, much less take his hand. Even still the young man waited and watched, content to guard the fallen woman should his skilled squire fall in battle. The concept of what damage he could possibly inflict on the beast with so slim a blade was beyond him.

“Come on,” he insisted gently, never allowing his eyes to fall.

((You can do what you will with the NPC))

[The Emerald Hind]

The surge of adrenaline through her veins remained strong enough to hold off the shock that wished to claim the child of field and wood, but even that could not fend away the effects of her life’s water oozing from the deep lacerations dug deep into the flesh of her thigh. The demands of shock were taking hold and she was failing against the snarling monster that loomed above her, toying with her as it snapped at her beyond the bar of her staff. The thing could have snapped the twig she called a weapon in two quite neatly and then have full access to its new meal, and surely it was angry enough to do such a thing; but manticores were monsters of another sort, the type of chimera that preferred to torture its victims before consuming them, to play with them like a small child would play with a doll. So, despite its ireful lashings and the way it squirmed to get past her ineffective defense, it remained where it was, as if to give the girl hope for survival.

Finally, and most unfortunately for Kaia, the manticore had its fill of the game as she continued to struggle against it, bucking against its weight and kicking at its tender under parts, even though each move came slower, less powerful. When one hard kick landed her foot into the lower portions of its belly, it decided it had enough and reached back to swipe the staff away. But it was at that moment that an explosion of leaf and horseflesh tore through the narrow tree path and pounced into the clearing. It was then that the foul beast was swept away from her form, but rather than scramble away, all Kaia could do was sit there and whimper in her agony. She barely noticed the well-spoken man who knelt beside her, trying to coax her up and away from the carnage. She did not even watch as the monster retaliated against the horse and its rider, ripping away its chest as the young man sprang away from the falling beast. It was all a blur to her as her body grew cold and her thoughts ran into one another.

Although her concern circled about the idea of killing the manticore, other ideas and considerations kept creeping into view, invading the chaotic flow of haphazard thoughts. Really, I…I need to get somewhere safe... Why did I ever come here at all? If she did leave and let the beast live, then it would strike again, and with more vehemence than ever before. It would make all the world pay for having lost its precious barbed tail, that which marked it as such an intimidating foe. I'm so cold. I'm freezing. And there was the price of her failure. What would the Stone do to her? It had made her so ill for refusing to come to this spot in the first place? How much blood have I lost? What would be its price for her faltering at this moment?

This she murmured in one way or another to the man as she absently grasped his hand. Then she struggled to her feet, the urgency of her task blasting through her mind like the scream of an eagle. She winced in response to pressure placed upon her leg, and blood streamed from the injury, just as it flowed from her shoulders and the tear that marred her right side. She shook her head in confusion as her thoughts fleeted her in response to the pain, and she shivered from the unfamiliar agony. But then the Stone at her throat pulsed with a vivid green light, and with it came a surge of warning and a desperation that coupled with her own, which fortified her against the symptoms of shock that over took her.

In a flash, the murk of thought and emotion cleared and all senses perceived again. Everything focused on the manticore, and it was all she could think about as she whipped her head around to locate the beast, to locate those who might be of help. And it was then that she looked at the man beside her, if only for but a brief moment, giving him a quizzical glance as she perceived him fully for the first time. But she did not even bother to ask for his name or why he was there, for he was safe and out of harm’s way, or relatively so. No, she had one concern, and that was the monster she was to kill. She looked the other way and located what she sought, and watched in horror as a roar tore from the monster as it circled a lone boy.

Angrier than ever before, the monster did not play with the squire but made quick work of him, pouncing upon him with fluid grace, blood sprinkling the air as it’s clubless tail thrashed for balance. It landed squarely on his chest, just as it had with Kaia moments before, but this time its jaws clamped around its’ victim’s neck, strangling the boy. His breath came out in a ragged gurgle as blood rushed into the cup of his throat, and crimson rivers erupted from his mouth, pouring down from the corners of it. Then, with a deft motion of the beast’s head, there came a sickening crack, and the light that existed in the boy’s eyes left him as a sea of blood gushed from his body.

At this Kaia cried out and scrambled from the man’s protection, grabbing her staff urgently as she moved to strike the boy’s killer, but her leg failed her and she tripped, sprawling out across the blood soaked clearing, which stained hands and clothing with their horrid brightness. Attention stirred by the girl’s outraged scream, the manticore dropped its kill and whipped around with an sneer donning its hideous face, a visage that looked so much like a man’s, which made it all the more vile. How hideous the thing was, with a manlike face smeared in blood, ugly and contorted, and lined with that same tawny fur as dominated the rest of its form. Then it seemed to smirk with delight and it bent down to the dead body, taking a limb in its fanged mouth and wrenching its head back, taking a member as a prize. It shook the arm—its prize—and purred luxuriously before stretching out to chomp upon the thing.

As it did this its eyes met Kaia’s and she perceived an intelligence behind those cruel, golden spheres, a cold and calculating mind as keen as any human’s, but as warped as a driftwood board. It delighted in its grisly meal, munching upon the boy’s arm as it stared at her and probed her with its sinister intellect. It seemed to take her measure, to take stock of her strengths and weaknesses. What it discovered must have comforted the creature as it merely leaned back, fore claws stabilizing the arm, and began to chew on the upper portion.

The girl pushed herself to her feet, bending over with a gasp of pain as she did so, and clinging to her staff as if it were her source of life. Her eyes never left those of the manticore, even as she felt her gorge rise. The smell of blood and death was overpowering, but, by some virtue, she had nothing left in her stomach to lose, and all she did was heave nothing more than air and pain as she stooped over the ground, one arm wrapped around her stomach, all weight placed upon her right leg. She looked up wearily, but the manticore was gone, as was the boy’s body, and there was nothing more than a bloody smear where the body had been.

“No!” she cried out, but now she knew better than to give chase, or else land face first upon the ground yet again. But she had to go after the thing, to kill it before it took another life, and the Earth Stone seconded her thoughts with an angry green flash, which shone through the blood and tattered cloth that lay over it.

“I have to kill it! I have to get it before it kills more innocents!” Then she looked desperately at the man who had burst through the trees with her savior, the one who had given his life for hers. Her hazel gaze misted with tears of sorrow and frustration as she looked up, her eyes still pinned upon him as she sunk to the spoiled earth. And all the grief in the world rested upon her shoulders as she fought back a sob. The emotion of that came with the knowledge of the sacrifice rose high and it shuddered through her frame, wishing to erupt from her, but all that came of it was a whimper, a whimper of agonizing pain and misery. Soon, it would not be just the boy that lost his life, but other innocents, those who did not deserve to serve as the fodder of a gluttonous behemoth.

Toiling against it all, she got to her feet once more, grunting in pain yet again, and looked at the man. “I need to get to my bag and dose myself up with a few herbs..."—she had dropped both her travel back and her work bag along the edge of the clearing when she rose against the terrible creature—"And I'm going to need you, as well.” She pinned him with a look that brooked no argument, the fierce conviction of her expression enough to give pause to even the strongest man’s resolve. Willed he or not, she would make the man help her one way or another, and she made such clear in that one, potent gaze.

[Taskmienster]

This thread has been sitting for a full year. Since no response has been made to create activity I am going to be moving this. If you would like it to be reopened please feel free to PM myself or another admin and they will be able to move it for you back to Scara Brae.