Private Tales Of Monsters

[Kthell]

[Location: Near the Falwood Border]​

The air stank here. Of refuse. Sickness.

The village youth went missing only to return a few weeks later, pale and softly bleating gibberish with pustules of darkness pulsing underneath their clothes. Mothers wept as they tended to their dying sons and daughters, while fathers muttered of superstition in the taverns and town hall. Something had befallen their quiet village and they were all at a loss for a solution. As each parents' wailings of loss and despair rose, so did the tensions between neighbors. Arguments clamored throughout the night, hastened and exacerbated with booze-fueled insults. Someone must take the blame. They will be killed and that will be the end of it.

"Pitiful," the cat murmured as she gazed through an open window.

A young man of no more than eighteen summers sweated in his bed just inside the home. From her distance, she could see the sweat glistening across his brow and could hear the struggle of each agonizing breath. A tendril of necrotic skin sprouted just above the neckline of his sleeping tunic and continued to grow, ever slowly, to creep up his neck. He groaned as he turned his face towards the small bowl of cool water resting on the nightstand by his bed. He lifted a finger, shuddered, and began to sob.

His gaze turned to her, a black cat with golden eyes leisuring at his window, and she could hear him croak something quietly.

"Please."

The suffering of men meant nothing to her, not usually. But this.. this was no man. This was a boy. A child. She had always had a fondness for children.

Kthell dropped inside his room and approached with the typical grace of a feline. She hopped to rest at the foot of his bed, tail twitching, and eyed the water.

There was a soft crackle within the collar at her neck and the necrotic tendril receded below his collar.

The boy gently attempted to move a hand to push himself up to an angle, and showed surprise at his sudden strength. He reached for the bowl and eagerly drank it dry. She remained still, collar popping and beginning to glow, as she watched him enjoy this small reprieve of pain. Only at his outstretched hand did she approach closer and allow him to scratch at her face and neck.

"Good girl," he whispered, voice hoarse.

The crackling at her neck began to fade and the dark magic at his throat resumed its creep. The youth sniffed, afraid, and returned to his pillow. Kthell slinked to his chest and laid there as well, pressing her face beneath his chin and matching his slowing breathing.

Together they laid for a time.

When his breathing finally stopped and she felt him go limp, the cat stood and exited the way she entered.

Graceful steps pattered to the next window.​

Garrod Arlette

 

[Garrod Arlette]

"A cat?" Garrod asked the bereaved woman.

"No, it was a demon, a foul creature, with eyes as gold and sinister as a witching moon," She clenched her fists and they trembled with the memory of what she saw. " It... it took my boy," The steel eyed mother managed. She had shed all the tears she could. Now there was only anger as she looked to the monster hunter.

"Yes but, you say it looked like a cat?" Garrod pressed.

"Yes, damn it," she huffed. "A black cat, no larger than a barn cat, or a mouser,"

"You aren't the first to tell of this, soul stealing feline," he said, pensive in his tone. "Though I can't say I've heard of such a creature beyond this village," he thought aloud.

"Are you saying I am a liar?" She reacted angrily. "That we village folk don't know what we are talking about?"

Garrod's eye went wide, and he recoiled, raised a hand in attempt to defuse the moment. "No, that is not what I meant,"

"Damn it, monster hunter, why would any of us lie about this?!" She shouted, fists pumping down at her side.

Others around them stopped and stared. Some glared angry, clenched there own fists and took an angry step toward the stranger who pestered a grieving mother.

"I only meant, that this creature seems local," he eased, as he scanned those around them. "That it is peculiar, and I have not seen such a thing in my travels. I do not disbelieve you, Miss," he assured as he set his eye on her. "I am to be thorough if I am to find this creature, yes? I apologize if my line of thought was... insensitive."

She kept her glare on him a moment, and turned away. "Yes well, I told you all I care to tell, my boy is dead, and you best get to the bottom of this, for any more of our children pay the price for your foolery!" She stormed away.

Garrod watched her away, and turned to look at the others who still lingered around, like hungry dogs ready to scrap. They growled and grimaced, but broke away.

Grief, pain and fear. All played strange tricks on the mortal mind.

You would know, would you not, oh bearer mine?

His own grimace pinched his brow and turned down his lip. "Let's not do this now," he muttered beneath his breath.

Do? There is no doing, dear bearer, only being.

The sellsword grumbled, and moved along in silence, his great-sword sheathed at his back. Grey mist swirled behind the trail of his cloak, and every step he took unveiled a little more of he scene. Shadows stretched and pulled and drew his eye.

"A black cat," he repeated to himself. "Could be anywhere," could be anything.

 

[Kthell]

The cat watched the man, the monster hunter, question the grieving mother from a rooftop perch. Her limbs were pressed solidly into the thatching to keep low and hidden from any wandering eyes of the irritated mob below. Her golden eyes narrowed; she knew they were speaking of her. They thought she was their demon, stealing away the souls of their children.

Lies.

Tense words were exchanged before the residents settled, and she watched as the crowd dispersed and the sellsword wandered through the village. His armor was odd. She’d seen plenty of swords for hire in her wandering days and most wore standard leathers and chainmail. This one’s bone-like armor was unique. The jewel in the gauntlet intrigued her; she could feel the heartbeat of magic.

Kthell pulled away from the rooftop’s edge and began to stalk the man, melting into shadows and appearing in others to cross from home to home, business to business. She stifled a mewling laugh as he eyed the darkness around him.

Amusement ruffled her fur. It was flattering to have such fear and wariness attached to her image. Though she was not the source of the village’s woes, the attention delighted her.

As the sellsword passed through a quieter part of the village, she poked her head down from the roof to openly communicate. Perhaps his magicked gauntlet would give her the edge she needed to rid the village of its true villain.

“A monster hunter,” she crooned. “Are they telling you how I’ve stolen their children’s souls away?” Her eyes had an eerie eyeshine even during the light of day. She canted her head and crossed her paws, the tips of them just visible from her position. “They’re lying, you know. I don’t collect their souls.”

Garrod Arlette

 

[Garrod Arlette]

A shape slinked before him. Dark as pitch with eyes of gold that shone bright in the low light of mistborn. Garrod stilled, made no move for his weapon as the feline sat perched on high.

Its voice. Her voice. Cooed and rolled through the air. Or was it through his mind?

Your mind is mine, Oh Bearer, his demon whispered, cruel and harsh, distant in the darkness of his thoughts.

Garrod blinked to the cat. Let his eye remain shut as he heard her speak on. Felt the strangeness there in the creature that gave him words.

Come the pause, his eye came open, and he saw as she crossed her paws. Claw points bright in the grey.

"They are afraid," he said carefully. "Life is hard enough for most folk," he smiled, wistful. "Throw in a demon," he bowed his head as his smile turned smirk, his green eye laden with sadness. "Well, they'll blame just about anything, cats included," he averted his gaze, peered about as the air stirred with a languid breeze. "Talking or otherwise,"

Kthell

 

[Kthell]

Kthell snorted. “Indeed. They are afraid.. and quick to blame a blameless cat,” she replied before pausing to yawn. Her speech was slow and leisurely. Innocuous.

She truly had no intention to harm him, but how could she expect a monster hunter to trust a monster? Especially when he more than likely thought she had the advantage, or so she assumed. Better to meet at his level. When each party thought themselves equal, she’d learned, conversations tended to be pleasant.

The cat pushed herself back and away from the edge of the roof, disappearing. There was a moment of quiet, pattering paws before she appeared at his feet, slinking from a nearby shadowed corner. Her gaze lifted to pause on his gauntlet, and she hummed in contemplation. Clicking her tongue, her eyes continued upward to meet his own.

“I am not your prey, sellsword. You’ve another enemy this eve. Regrettable, I know,” she chimed. “You’ve something to trade for information? Magical trinkets?”

Garrod Arlette

 

[Garrod Arlette]

The hunter crossed his arms across his chest, and set his weight back onto a heel. "Trinkets?" he grinned at the word, tooth peeked and sure. "No trinkets," he reached back, and grabbed up a a thing. A little stone, with rune carved into it. "Tools, a plenty," he took a careful step forward. Placed the stone down upon the ground in the space between the cat and himself.

Red-gold glowed within the well of the carved stone. Pumice pulsed with minor magick.

"I believe you," he said steady. Took some steps back from the offering. "And you'll have no trouble from me," he said sure. Leaned back again and turned his eye toward the town in the near distance. "But I'm just one man, only time till another hunter comes about, with less scrupulous standards,"

---

Kthell

 

[Kthell]

Kthell watched as the hunter cautiously laid down a bauble. Her gaze lowered to the stone pebble, intrigued, before closing to deeply breathe in the invisible vapors of magick. It hummed. She smiled, cat-lips pulling back eerily wide.

“Mn.. yes, another hunter will come. And then another, and another. I am very good at protecting myself,” she said, eyes opening. She pressed herself low to the ground, backside wiggling, and pounced on the magicked stone in a single smooth motion. Then she began to bat it between her paws, and chasing it about when it went out of reach. Was this related to her protecting herself? Maybe. But probably not – it looked too much like a cat at play.

“How about another sort of bargain?” she asked as she whipped around the alleyway. The pebble was here, now there! “You tell me about your armor there and I’ll tell you about your prey. The more you share, the more I share.”

She slapped the stone hard, aiming for his boot. “You first.”

Garrod Arlette

 

[Garrod Arlette]

The stone slid right up to his boot, and knocked against it with a soft thud.

"Huh," he said with a curious curl of his lip. His eye looked over to the creature. The cat, that was no mere cat. "Not pleased with your gift?" he asked, no hint of hurt on his voice.

He picked up the magicked rock with his bone-white hand, and stood straight backed. Gave it a flip, as if a gambler's lucky coin, and snatched it with a soft tink. It rolled across the knuckles of his gauntlet with hard little clicks and clacks as he thought things over.

The opalescent jewel, fixed upon the bone-like plate of the vambrace, gleamed, like an eye bright with life.

"It's a relic," he said plainly. "With," he felt his throat grow tight. Felt the green flames behind his missing eye squint with a cruel glee. Felt the long tears of its teeth crack into a wide half-grin there in the shadows of his mind. "An old magick within," he said, almost in surrender. "A being, sealed in the jewel,"
Belephus laughed with malicious glee. Hoping this, thing, will save you, Oh Bearer Mine?

"It grants me power," he added. "As part of our... bargain,"

You know, the voice of his demon cooed sweetly. If you feed me this, thing, it laughed. There's no telling what gifts I might be able to grant you.

"You're turn,"

He stopped the stone betwixt his forefinger and thumb, and flicked it so it skate across the ground, back toward the cat.

Kthell

 

[Kthell]

Kthell sat with the elegant leisure typical of a cat, tail curling to cradle her side. The tip continued to sway, lazily, as she watched him lift the coin and draw it across his knuckles. She canted her head as he thought and remained quiet, patient.

As he explained what exactly his armor was – a relic, he said – she noted his.. reluctance? No. The willpower behind his words. It strained him to speak of it. Her gaze lowered to the jewel stuck fast in the gauntlet. Again she felt the thrumming of magick.

A creature sealed within. Perhaps that could have been her if her masters had acted with more cunning. Instead they sought a plaything, a pet. And now they were dead and she was alive.

She felt no pity for the being. There was no need. Like her, it would bide its time and break free.

The cat snorted and lifted her nose at the gauntlet, ears flat against her head. “I doubt it can grant much power being locked away as it is,” she said, waiting to feel the jewel blaze with anger. “Can it stand and move? Can it speak? Useless.”

She tittered as the pebble settled before her, and she lifted a paw to rest on it gingerly. “You face an elderly witch, a hag. She invades the children’s dreams and lures them into the trees, and curses them with dark magick to steal their vitality. And likely their souls as dark magick tends to do,” she chirped.

Kthell thwapped the stone back towards Garrod’s boot.

“Where did you come by such a relic?”

Garrod Arlette

 

[Garrod Arlette]

The opalescent jewel within the gauntlet gleamed at her taunts. Yes. It cooed within his mind, delighted. I am sure she would taste most delectable, oh Bearer Mine. A laugh like smoke that rolled through the darkness of his mind. Clever creature. It was almost said in admiration.

The Hunter huffed a laugh. "If only it were so, useless," he said wistful.

He watched as the cat placed its paw upon the little stone. Listened carefully as it spoke. A hag. That works in dreams.

With his head so full of demon's fire, he wondered if her powers would find him there? Or if she sensed the stench of his pact like a beast might another's scent.

If Belephus hungered for other beings, surely, something hungered for it.

It has been some time since you've allowed me to, eat, Oh Bearer Mine, the demon whispered. A wicked hag, it laughed. Surely, such a thing would be satisfactory for me to dispose of, yes? Something you can let me... gnaw.

A solemn nod, was all the Hunter's response to the information given. He lift his toe to catch the stone underfoot.

"It was a gift given," he let his foot down beside the small rock. "by my mentor," he kicked the stone back. "You said you do not collect their souls," he started, and looked up to the distant windows of homes, through the veil of silvered mists that hung in the still early air. "What did you do to them?"

---

Kthell

 

[Kthell]

Kthell chuffed as she caught the pebble with a nimble paw, glancing yet again at the hunter’s armor. Her claws extended briefly. “Such a short answer for such a tall gift. To be expected, I suppose,” she cooed. “Us bound things love our secrets and pacts.”

At his question, the cat hummed with a lazily swaying tail. She had expected him to ask such a thing being the monster hunter he is. A new creature begins to roam the streets and homes of a remote village and suddenly their youngest kin begin to die. Questionable, she agreed, and not unheard of. There was a time when she was a bitter, hungry creature roaming the wilds causing fear and chaos.

Many long years spent wandering the world had blunted those urges.

“The bargain was for you to tell me of your armor and I tell you of your true prey. But I am feeling generously talkative,” she finally responded. “I give them peace.”

She let her reply hang in the air for a few moments and watched for a change in his expression.

“I cannot remove the curse, not as I am. But I can lay with them and provide some comfort during their last moments. Dull the curse as it ends,” she continued. “Humans, elves, orcs.. all of you want something warm and soft to hold when you feel fear.”

Kthell held his gaze. The stone suddenly clattered at his feet as if she’d touched it, but she’d made no movements.

“What is your bound creature’s name?”

Garrod Arlette

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Us bound things.

The noise seemed to blurr between the drums of his ears. Us. The voice within his mind smiled, greedful. Do you hear that, Oh Bearer Mine? It said with un-repentant glee. Us bound things.

Garrod's expression darkened with a shift of his brow. His eye shift down.

The bargain... Generous...peace...

"Were that so many of the bound were so generous," he said through the glint of bared teeth, the corner of his lip quirked.

Am I not generous, Oh Bearer Mine? A savior, who would sacrifice his own comforts, just to see you live on, time and time again?

But as the being spoke, he could not refute, and when his eye rose, it was fixed upon her gaze as the magicked rock skate across the stone packed earth.

He felt the chords of his throat tighten. His breath drawn short. Its name. My name. The voice hissed in rumble.

"A name is no small thing," the hunter replied. "A name holds power," and to speak its name, was to invite him in.

Tell her my name, Oh Bearer Mine. The long teeth spread wide. Spread sharp and proud.

Kthell

 

[Kthell]

Kthell watched the darkened veil shift over his face and canted her head with genuine curiosity. His eyes lifted to meet hers, his voice timbre strained.

Aha, she thought. There they are.

“Perhaps I am mistaken,” she said. Her voice was slow, lazy. Indifferent. “Perhaps you are the one bound to it."

Her leather collar crackled with dark energy, dim runes suddenly appearing around her neck and shimmering across her fur. The pebble and spirals of dirt rose in the air as a thrumming of magick pulsed from her, sending shockwaves into the nearby grass and down the alleyway. Garrod would feel his hair and any loose effects begin to levitate as well, if they’d naturally be affected in such a way.

She blinked. Another set of eyes appeared – two at the sides of her face and one between her stern gaze. Vertically slit, they opened and glowed with a bright, golden light.

“Calm. The hag will quell us both,” she said. Not to Garrod.

Garrod Arlette

 

[Garrod Arlette]

The smile of flame quelled. Grew small, till it turned to frown. The bright green eye within his mind narrowed to squint.

Garrod's breath eased, his right hand loosed, as the cat's eyes came open. He felt air rush into his lungs, and help him stand.

You cannot deny this one, Oh Bearer Mine, the flame winked out from the ink pitch of his psyche. A giggle and a laugh. Feed me. That is all I ask.

His eye saw the strange truth before him. Clear as the distant burn of star fire, bright as the twin moons. He laughed.

"Always a bigger fish," he showed his teeth in grin, squeezed the fingers of his gauntleted hand. "Thanks,"

Kthell

 

[Kthell]

The cat watched as the sinister darkness gripping the monster hunter eased and fell back into nothingness. Her multiple eyes blinked in unison as she remained in her leisurely position, tail swaying patiently. As Garrod seemed to become himself, laughing and squeezing his fingers, she allowed her show of power to fade.

Any floating items, such as dirt, rocks, and loose clothing, fell into place. The runes glistening over her collar and fur dimmed into nothing. Her shining eyes shimmered and disintegrated into golden sparkles, leaving her with an unnerving, but typical, cat-like gaze. Within moments, she appeared as any normal mouser.

“We have an understanding,” she replied, standing to weave her way through Garrod’s legs. “I’ve no interest in consuming your—” Kthell clicked her tongue as she paused, thoughtful. “—companion, for lack of better word. And I’ve no interest in consuming you. You have my word.”

She batted the pebble away from his boot and into the darkness. It seemingly vanished – it never clattered against the wall, never bounced across the dirt. It was there and then it wasn’t.

“I accept the stone as payment,” she began. “I will lead you to the hag and you will assist me in killing her. And you will allow me and your companion to devour her.”

Garrod Arlette

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Breath reclaimed, hand, mostly his own again, Garrod straightened up, as the creature skulked betwixt his feet. Easy tone lulling between his ears.

"We have an understanding," Garrod agreed. Filled his lungs with breath that buoyed him amidst the sea of glittering strange, his eye traced the shot of the pebble, and he could not help but feel he had gotten off lucky as he rubbed his right wrist.

For all that his companion was. Garrod could not say Belephus was untruthful. Sinister. Manipulative. Malicious and spiteful. But not so much a liar.

Maybe this being was the same. A commonality, shared by those things dark and twisted by the unknown. Garrod could only hope, as a smirk cut across his lips, and he nod his head again.

"I will follow you, and assist in the slaying of the hag," he said, and knew that to beings such as this. Words were bond. Contracts, immutable barring further, negotiation. "You and my companion," To this, Belephus laughed, a rolling curtain of smoke in his mind. "will devour her,"

The jewel affixed to the armor so fixed to his arm gleamed. Shone bright with the wicked green.

He flexed his hand once more, and pulled his eye from the gauntlet, to the darksome shape of golden eyes. "What do I call you?"

Kthell

 

[Kthell]

The cat seemed pleased with him repeating her words, chirping and fluttering between his boots once more. Then she distanced herself with a few steps, turned, and sat to face him in a smooth, even motion. The tip of her tail flicked every few breaths while her eyes rested on his, unblinking.

“A pact made,” she said, delighted. “And you may call me what you like. My long-dead masters used Kthell. Children have given me all sorts of names. Mouser, Whiskers, Beatrice.. I’ve no preference.”

She stood and stretched into a dramatic yawn, claws extending and biscuiting into the dirt.

“What should I call you, hunter? Or do you prefer the ‘hunter’ moniker?” she asked. Her lips slowly pulled into a wicked grin. “I wouldn’t blame you if kept it quiet, considering the company.”

Garrod Arlette

 

[Garrod Arlette]

"A pact made," Garrod said, wistful rumble in his throat.

Acceptance. Not quite regret.

"Beatrice, the black cat," he said with some fondness as he watched the cat stretch and yawn, dig into the earth with those little motions of life. "B for short," he half laughed.

Come her own question, and to that came another bounce of breath.

"My name is my own," he said with some soft measure of strength. "Garrod," he gave with a nod. Felt his own lips pull at the corners with want to bare grin.

Belephus rumbled, low, dark with distant laughter.

A roll of his shoulder, shifted the weight of armor and great weapon. "Well, B," he said. "Lead, and I'll do my best to follow,"

Kthell

 

[Kthell]

“Garrod,” she said aloud, testing the name. Simple, short. A good hunter’s name. As he settled on a name for herself, the cat’s front bent forward in a gesture resembling a bow. “And today I am Beatrice or B for short. A pleasure."

Or so she hoped.

If all went well, she’d be feasting on the hag by the new dawn and siphoning the lingering power. She’d have to test the boundary once she’d left the hunter and his companion to their own reward. Perhaps a rune about her collar would shatter and leave her feeling stronger. Freer. Ever closer to being unshackled.

Kthell felt her stomach flutter with anticipation. Hunger.

"Let us not disappoint each other," she added.

Her ears flicked forward as she straightened and made for a shadow with a slow pitter-patter of paws. “We’ve plenty of difficult ground to cover before dusk. I hope you’re suited for hiking,” she said. “I will meet you outside of the village. From here, move eastward and enter the treeline.”

Garrod Arlette

 

[Garrod Arlette]

An adjustment to his gauntleted wrist. A clutch of his clawed hand. Once. Twice. To check the fit. A quick pull of the leather sleeve. A roll of each finger come shut one last.

"The pleasure is all mine," he said with a smile.

The beat of his heart thrummed hard in his chest. He let his hands fall to his side as he showed sharp teeth.

"No, never that," he agreed, and followed after her as she moved. Boots steady against the stone. Armor and kit, rustled softly with each step. "Wouldn't be much of a hunter, if I wasn't," he smirked. Gave a nod and ventured east.

---

At the edge of the village, across open field, and where the trees grew dark and tall, Garrod waited. Patient, as he watched ahead of him.

A hag was no small test.

He smirked.

Get cold feet, Oh Bearer Mine? his demon wondered.

Kthell