Completed Stray Beast Strut

[Garrod Arlette]

Belts and buckles slapped and tinked as Garrod shook the strips of tattered leather sack that had been left behind by whatever had come and ripped through his campsite.

“I should have tied it up in a tree,” he muttered to himself, and tossed the scrap to the ground. Silver morning mist swirled around and filled the space the waste, thrown away, had dispersed, and Garrod’s eye watched as the curling wisps turned to hazey film.

“Tracks,” he thought aloud, and bent low to the earth and onto one knee, his naked fingers pressed to the divets there-in the dirt. Four knuckles wide, webbed feet, claws, four-legged. His eye followed the trail up and away until the low hanging mist swallowed it up, five feet from where his finger touched. “Visibility this poor, this’ll be a pain.”

But he found it curious a creature, out in the wilds of the Reach, would take his jam. A seemingly aquatic one at that.

“Had two week’s worth of that stuff in there,”

Maybe it was no creature

“Course it was,”

Maybe it was a thief. Yes… Someone to hunt.

“No thief I’ve ever met has tracks like these,”

Come, can’t I dream?

Garrod looked at the pearlescent gem set in his gauntlet. How it gleamed, moonlike in the mist as its clawed fingers held the strings of the morning’s catch. “Not like I’ve ever been able to stop you,” Garrod grumbled, and rose up, straight and tall. “But I best eat breakfast before all this mess gets going in true.” He said, and set to starting a fire.

----

Branches and twigs rustled underfoot as Garrod gave pursuit.

Hours into the hunt, he’d come to learn it was a Garr Hound, and a big one at that. Found some of its scales sloughed off as he followed after it, ever onward toward the river. The half-fish-half-wolf would be long gone if it made it to the water. Without much way for him to track it either. Normally, such a common creature wasn’t worth his time, less it’d pissed off some ferrymen or fisherfolk. But this one? This one was a pink Garr-Hound. And the scales he’d put safely in his pocket were worth their weight in silver.

Not a bad trade already for his jars of jam. The real coin, however, was in its egg pouch.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Lechies stood among the tall, waving grasses of Allir Reach, brow scrunched thoughtfully as she peered down at the furry lump by her feet. It was a rabbit -- or at least, it used to be. Whatever had caught the unfortunate creature only ate half of it, leaving the rest for the flies to feast on. She was no expert hunter, but by the state of the carcass, she judged that the rabbit's killer had passed through very recently.

The nearby tracks were the correct shape. Webbed feet; wide drag marks, as if from a long, flat tail. Certainly nothing that usually prowled around in fields.

The tracks pointed north. There, the trees of Sulmer Woods dotted the horizon, their leaves clinging to colors of fire and gold even this late in the season. Farther still ran the waters of the mighty Sayve River. If her quarry managed to escape that far, then there would be nothing else Lechies could do.

She sighed, followed the tracks, and thought back to the circumstances that brought her to this point.

------​

The life of a Greendawn agent never lacked for work, but even so, Lechies liked to check the postings by the local adventurers' guild every now and again, just to see if there was anything interesting. One such posting caught her eye -- not because it was interesting, but because it was mundane.

Lost pet. Please assist. Will reward handsomely.

She didn't blame the others for ignoring this one. Still, Lechies was loath to let a call for help go unanswered, and so took it upon herself to talk to the man whose name was signed at the bottom.

Knoxley, as it turned out, was a trader of rare and exotic beasts, and his beloved personal garr-hound had escaped from his wagon in the early hours of the morning.

"Must've left the cage unlocked," Knoxley had muttered, eyes swollen from weeping. "She's real smart, knows all sorts of tricks. I taught her one where you toss her a ball and she bounces it from her snout to her tail, then flips onto her back and-"

"I'm happy to help," Lechies had interrupted, "but your garr-hound-"

"Lily."

"-Lily could have run anywhere. Do you have any ideas about where she went?"

"Well, garr-hounds are all looking for sweethearts around this time of year. Mating season, if ya will. Oh, hey," Knoxley slapped the bottom of his fist into his palm, "maybe she went to the river Sayve? I mean, it's the wrong river to find a sweetheart in these parts, but poor Lily don't know that."

------​

Lechies had promised to do what she could. Knoxley generously provided an advance payment and a silver whistle that, by his claims, could catch a garr-hound's attention from a quarter mile away.

As she entered the woods, Lechies put the whistle to her lips and blew. No sound emerged that she could hear, but she assumed it was working. Sunlight fell through the canopy, brushing the ground over with dappled branch-shade. She stepped with care, ears straining to hear anything out of the ordinary.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Bough and brush bent and snapped as Garrod pressed through the undergrowth. Careful as he was, he was no wild-walker, and his blade, oversized as it was, snagged and snatched against grasping twig and branch alike. It was slow, monotonous, work trying to move about with little sound. But thought of the pay to come kept him going on through the swirl of autumn mist.

A wet and throaty sound chortled ahead. Almost like a whine. More of a whimper. But one made low in the muck and the mire. Bubbly, in that way of boiling stews and toiling gas troubling to let out. Garrod’s eye narrowed, and he ceased his step, hunkered low, soft and quiet.

There in the near distance, was a feint shape. Large enough to fit his mark.

Take it, Garrod, but mark it first, yes… Mark it first.

Garrod’s lips bowed downward, and his eye narrowed ever so. The shape moved, in that way four legged creatures did. Only, with more of a wobble, more sway in the head and the tail. And what a tail it was.

“That’s it…” He drew a throwing knife from his belt, spun the blade to pinch its narrowed tip and brought it up, arm cocked as his eye took aim. “Stay right there…”

It jerked its head up, and Garrod’s eye widened in surprised. Had it seen him? Heard him?

Mark it, Garrod! If you brand it with my name, you will be able to track it!

He let the knife fly. But the beast had sprung away as it released. The steel tool chunked into some tree, and the Garr-hound bound away.

Garrod wasted no time and sprung from his hiding hole to give chase to the beast.

---
Lily, pink beauty that she was, with her long alligator-like-snout and large golden eyes that gleamed in the soft glow of autumn light, heard the familiar call of her master’s whistle. So she ran, fast as her webbed feet would take her. She kicked up dirt with each stride of her clawed and webbed pedites. Her snaggle toothed jaws snapped happily, as she likely thought of her master’s face and the treat that would usually accompany that luring sound.

In the prime of her life, pink and shimmering lily burst through the shrubbery, some four feet at the shoulders, and fixed her large eyes on the whistle blower. Who was not her master. And confusion seemed to root there in the black of her eyes.

A sound, low and gurgly as it rumbled, roiled out of her throat, and she snapped at the air as she thrashed her large head and flashed those big teeth of hers. The spines of all her fins splayed out, and even her pinkish hue seemed to flush a more menacing red.

Garrod burst out of the woods behind her, sword arm bearing his blade, but Lily turned about, fish quick, and slapped him down with her powerful tail. Garrod fell back, hard against the dirt.

“Bloody beast,” he muttered under his breath as he hefted himself up. “You don’t move like any Garr i’ve ever come across.” He smiled, hungry, and regripped his sword. “This one’s mine!” He called out to the other likely hunter. “But if you help, i’ll cut you in for some of the profits!”

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Something was coming through the underbrush. Large, heavy, not very graceful; but closing in on her position all the same. Lechies froze mid-step, wondering for one wild moment if Knoxley's curious little whistle actually worked as advertised. Not that she'd truly doubted him -- but the man was odd, and well -- finding his missing pet in this way seemed too good to be true.

But yes, the beast that erupted from the bushes was indeed a garr-hound. She was bigger than most garr-hounds Lechies had seen, not that she'd seen a lot, but what was most startling was the hue of her scales: pleasing pink, as soft and gentle as a flower petal.

She'd wondered why Knoxley bothered to keep a creature whose intelligence was better known for boarding unsuspecting river boats than performing tricks. Now she knew.

There was nothing soft nor gentle in how Lily reacted to the sight of Lechies. The smile she gave the agitated garr-hound was nervous, her movements slow as she tucked the whistle back into her pocket. Lechies pitched her voice high, like how one might speak to a small animal or a child.

"It's alright; I'm safe. I'm just here to take you back to-"

Lechies cut herself off, realizing too late that the sound of foliage being broken hadn't stopped after Lily made her appearance. This time it was a man who burst onto the scene. His greatsword flashed silver with menace as it passed through a sunbeam; Lechies slid her feet apart into a defensive stance, her staff held at the ready.

She didn't relax even when Lily sent him to the ground. Aside from the worrying length of his blade, the gauntlet over his right arm radiated the distinct aura of magic. There was something vaguely... familiar about its signature, though what it was she felt could not be put into words just yet. Lechies stared at the clouded jewel adorning its bone-like surface before she forced her attention back to the man.

"This one is not yours," she replied, frowning. Frowning at his voice of words, and the greedy look in his one eye. "She belongs to-"

Lily, not willing to suffer the company of two suspicious strangers any longer, lunged in Lechies's direction. She interrupted herself again, statement ending in a yelp, pushing herself sideways to avoid the garr-hound's teeth-lined snout.

Fortunately for her, Lily wasn't interested in a meal of wizard. Lechies tripped over Lily's bulk to land painfully on the forest floor, and the garr-hound continued onward, webbed feet working busily to carry her into the underbrush. Not towards the river, at least, but still somewhere these two who were not Master couldn't get at her.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod glared at the other. Not his? Who in the hell did this hunter think they were.

Forget the fish, Garrod, take the hunter. There was a secret there in the low rumble of the relic's voice. Yes, she is much more valuable than that thing you are wasting our time with.

It mattered little. "Stay out of my way!" He shouted at her, fire in his voice, and he chased after the Garr-hound, his sword held low as he raced behind the creature's wake. But the brambles were too thick. Thorns that would rake and snag and scratch and tear. Garrod growled and brought his blade down on the thrush, hack after violent hack.

Belephus laughed inside his head. Had you only listened, little Garrod, had you only marked the beast as I had advised, then there would be no need to get so angry. Its trace would be felt, you know this.

Hot breath left Garrod's nose in exerted pants. "I'm getting real tired of you today," he muttered beneath his breath. He sheathed his sword upon his back and began looking about for an animal trail that would work.

Heed my words, Garrod. That one behind you. The other hunter. Mark her. Let me take her strength... Belephus laughed, small and sweet. I will give you a gift like no other, in return.

"Piss on your gifts," Garrod grumbled, seeing a break in the bushes that seemed suitable enough to pass. A deer trail, or some other large forager by the looks of the missing leaves and broken branches. "if you want no trouble," he spoke louder now as he moved on after the Garr-hound. "I advise you leave this creature to me, fair hunter." He adjusted the strap of his blade, and moved on. "I have little patience for competitors unwilling to barter a fair split."

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Spitting out dirt, elbows and knees aching where they'd slammed into the ground, Lechies's head jerked up at the man's angry shout. She half-expected to see him coming for her with that fearsome sword, but no -- he only cared about Lily. She took the chance to pull herself back onto her feet, and was mildly puzzled as she watched the stranger take his frustration out on the forest.

Was a garr-hound truly so great a prize, even a pink one? The scales were used in some artisan crafts -- bracelets and belts and hair accessories and the like -- but Lechies couldn't imagine that failing to catch a garr-hound was that much of a setback. Certainly not enough to justify this kind of wrath.

Perhaps his temper was just that foul.

Contrary to his generous advice, Lechies followed after him onto the path he'd uncovered, struggling slightly as her cloak snagged a stray branch. She let her eyes leave his back only long enough to free herself; she didn't trust him to stray from her line of vision. His gauntlet's aura still discomforted her, the gem's almost eye-like shape in particular. It kept trying to drag her own gaze.

"Lechies. I'd rather you call me that than 'fair hunter'."

She hopped over a protruding root, eyes flicking quickly from one side of the woods to the other, trying to spot a shimmering coat of pink between the leaves. The whistle was useless; Lily would not heed its call now after having seen who was on the other end of it.

"And I'm not a hunter at all, for that matter. I tried to tell you before -- that garr-hound is someone's creature companion. I was hired by a man in Vallond to bring her back. So whatever your intentions for Lily," Lechies's glare was dagger-sharp, "I hope they leave her unharmed, because her owner has a fat purse waiting for the kind soul who reunites them."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

A name like milk. Garrod smirked. He did not hate it. There was a soothing quality to it. A familiarity that most names did not carry. “Well met,” he replied in a warm sardonicism.

Lechies explained her situation, and when her tone turned knife sharp, Garrod craned his neck to regard her. His stare cast over his shoulder, sidelong and unimpressed. But the mention of a fat purse seemed to pull at the strings of his smile. Coins glint and glimmering in his mind, and the thought of that future-seen metallic light seemed to brighten up his dour expression.

“Well, why didn’t you start off with that?” Garrod said, matter of fact. He put his eye forward, and looked for any signs of the fruit colored fish. A hand pushed away a branch that was at level with his head, and he smelled at the cold air, still so laden with thick white mist. “Lousy luck this,” he added. “To be tracking this gargling wet creature on a day like this,” he came to a stop, and hunched low.

You have no one to blame but yourself, Garrod.

His brow pinched, and he ignored the cruel gleam of the pearlescent gem. And he did not think about how it seemed so at home in the cold damp misery.

Oh but I am, Garrod, I see clearly in this haze. My gaze unperturbed by all this swirling shroud of silver. And what of you, hmm? Blind as a star nosed mole. With only your failures to dig through. But go on, think that you are better off ignoring my plea. Let us both see how that will play out in the end.

He wasn’t normally this chatty. A plea here and there. The request to take in a creature’s soul before he set it to roast now and again. But Belephus seemed… different today.

Garrod had sat in the silence for a moment too long, he realized. He stood up, and continued to track forward. “No hunter then, Lechies,” Garrod affirmed. “Let’s say I help you bring this creature back to its owner.” He bent down and picked up a glittering scale, rosy and pink. Put it in his belt pouch, and went on. “What’s my cut of the supposedly fat purse?”

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Sunlight cut through the mists here and there to touch the ground, lending their surroundings the appearance of pale fabric, tattered and sheer. Lechies didn't feel the cold -- hadn't really felt cold for a few months now. An unintended boon from the demon inside her, she assumed, though she worried that her body was still beholden to the consequences of cold, even if she didn't shiver.

Just in case, Lechies drew her cloak more tightly around her shoulders with her free hand.

When the hunter knelt, she stopped as well, observing him with a careful eye. The gem set in his gauntlet seemed to gleam, winking in the weak light.

What even was it? It didn't seem to be made of steel, more likely the bone of some unfortunate beast. Lechies kept imagining she could hear whispers from the thing, none of them actual words she could understand, just the faintest suggestion of syllables uttered by a phantom tongue, ghostly fingers brushing meaning across the surface of her mind. Despite her own uneasiness, she was curious. She had the most bizarre urge to reach out and touch it.

The hunter rose from his crouch then. Lechies blinked hard, once more yanking her eyes off the gauntlet's cloudy gem. He asked about payment, and she gladly latched onto the question to pull her senses back to reality.

"He pledged 500 silvers for Lily's safe return." No small sum, especially for a man who plied his trade in the wilderness. "An even 50/50 split would be reasonable, I think."

Honestly, Lechies didn't care if he took the entire reward. The size of Knoxley's advance payment was already unwarranted for what the task actually was, and she didn't adventure for the riches. Still, she wouldn't put all her chips on the table just yet. The stranger was clearly motivated by money, as many sellswords were. There was advantage to be had in that.

Whatever his answer, Lechies would have no chance for further counterargument, because a howl cut suddenly through the mists, echoing from somewhere up the game trail. It was the pained cry of a garr-hound.

Lechies jerked forward, only to force herself still. There was precious little room to brush past the hunter, and she wasn't comfortable putting him at her back just yet.

---​

The trail would widen to a small clearing. Red dripped down onto the green of the glade, Lily's blood weeping from a rip across her snout. Before her, a horned bear reared onto its hind legs, magnificent antlers crowning from the dark fur on its head, large claws flexing with wrath. It bellowed, infuriated by the other creature's trespass.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

“50/50 split on 500 silvers, huh?” Garrod adjusted his shoulder with a smirk.

There was a silence between them after that. The sound of dirt crunching underfoot, and brambled branches snapping and falling there to fill that void. Let her sit for a while. Let her think that he had cause to haggle. He’d already pocketed two scales, worth more than a few pieces of silver on their own, and now, there was a promise of 250 more. Still, that was a mighty good jam he had lost. Made from mighty good berries.

A yelp-run-howl, long and pain filled. But the way the sound ended. Gurgly and wet. It was the garr-hound. “350!” Garrod shouted as he drew his blade. Steel parted from leather sheath in one smooth heft, and he broke forward.

Come the clearing, and Garrod could see what had assailed the rosey beast that would be his prize.

“Stag bear, huh?” he angled the blade, narrowed point forward, and ran his gauntleted fist across the flat base of the weapon. Sparks flew from where the dead-white armor scraped along the sword, and words, old and ancient, spilled from Garrod’s lips. When he brought both hands to the blade, he let out a word. “Ignis,” and the length of the sword set to bright hot flame.

Runes, worked into the metal, burned white along its length. Markings that were not there before.

The stag-bear had already turned to face the new threat, beady brown eyes wide at the sight of fire. But it did not flee. It roared its challenge anew, and thundered down onto all four of its legs, thrashing its head toward Garrod and his fiery sword, sure to show its crown of murderous antlers.

“Here comes the charge!” Garrod called out, and sure enough the bear-beast bulled forward, each of its bounding strides shaking the earth beneath his feet. He leapt to the side, avoiding the crush, pulling all of his blade with him. When he found his footing, his eye scanned for the other. The one named like milk.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Only after he burst into motion did Lechies feel safe in following him. Branch and root tried again to catch the two as they crashed through the foliage, but the forest found itself no match for their urgency. Lechies, assuming the worst from that pained cry, prepared a spell as they ran. The tip of her staff lit with a warm glow, small golden glyphs beginning to spin around both her implement and her hands.

The trail opened up, and Lechies stopped just behind the hunter's muscled bulk. She needed only a moment to take stock of their foe -- a horned bear, known for their territorial aggression as well as the useful alchemic properties of the bony protrusions they were named for. They could bring it down as long as they struck hard and quickly, she thought.

Lechies was more concerned about Lily. Her gaze shifted to the garr-hound, noting the gash on Lily's face, but grateful not to find any other wounds. A hissing sort of growl came from Lily's throat, furious but unwilling to engage a creature that had already bested her once.

The pressure in the clearing shifted, responding to the call of magic. 'Spellsword', came the belated realization. The arcane energies seeping from the hunter's gauntlet had so distracted Lechies that she didn't even notice they ran through the wearer's body as well.

Her eyes hooked onto the runes for a second, curious what school he was learned in. Then she had to dodge, for the horned bear was trampling in their direction. The hunter leaped one way; Lechies the other. The very air quaked as the bear rumbled between them, antlers tossing with deadly promise.

It slid to a halt with surprising grace given its size. The horned bear swung around, snarling, saliva flying from its mouth. A beat passed; then it charged for the hunter, drawn to that beacon of a sword and the threat it represented.

The instant she saw she was not its target, Lechies lunged for Lily. She barked the final chant that had been buzzing on her tongue. The glyphs gave an obedient pulse, their glow brightening. From the tip of her staff shot a shining rope. It swallowed the distance to Lily easily, catching the garr-hound as she tried to slip away. The rope wound around Lily like a snake and she slumped to the ground, thrashing with anger and confusion.

For a reward of 350 silvers, Lechies expected the hunter could handle his side of the fight a few moments without her help.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Good, she was quick on her feet. Garrod had seen one too many mages miss a beat and the result was never pretty. A lot of mess, and a lot of screaming. If there was anything left to scream with.

His hands re-gripped the hilt of his blade, as he eyed the horned bear before him. Watched as its overwhelming mass rippled as it came to a stop, dirt and gravel grit underneath it as it was dug out and displaced, and it turned with that sureness and ease that came with instinct, and a lifetime of practice. No thought, only the primal drive to survive that pounded rush and haste through the body. Garrod grinned, wide with a demon's excitement. He made small adjustments in his footing, in the muscles of his arm, shoulder and back as he stood behind the fiery sword that channeled his own magical energies, his own drive to live.

Think, Garrod, how much easier this would be if you simply fed this beast to me... Belephus cooed.

"Come at me then," Garrod uttered beneath his breath as mist sizzled and popped and swirled about him. Burned away by the flame he willed into existence.

As if to heed the challenge, the horned bear charged again. Antlers lowered as growled breath was panted from its slobbery maw. Garrod shifted, a measured step angled away from the creature's crash. The bright blade came up, point first, driven in and sliced away. Flesh sizzled and the smell of burnt fur and fat wafted out as the horned bear trumpeted its pain.

A long ugly line, red and angry, ran across the side of the bear. Some flesh hung from the wound, cauterized some, but not enough to stop the blood that wept from the cut. Garrod hopped and turned back towards the animal, and it turned back toward him, slower, less sure in its movement as it accounted for the pain and the threat turned reality.

Mark it, Garrod, give it to me, and you can sell all of its furs, and horns, and claws. Yes, think of the coin you will earn.

It roared at him, lowered its antlers once more, and shook them at him. But it whimpered some. Hesitated before the fire that had licked it once.

Garrod kept the sword pointed down toward the horned bear, blade long before him. "How's our fish?!" he called out to Lechies, and with a shift in his stance, and a change in his grip, he held the sword one handed, and begun to utter a new string of timeless syllables, his gauntleted hand clenched near his chest as he channeled a new swell of magic.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

With Lily secure, Lechies hung back to observe the battle between hunter and horned bear. His movements were measured and disciplined, capitalizing well on his greatsword's weight and reach, reminding her of her colleague Dakota's fighting style. But where Dakota had been trained as an Allirian guardsman to handle human-shaped problems, the stranger's maneuvers had a touch more savagery to them, to deal with more savage enemies in turn. It was a fascinating dance to witness.

His hand fell away, and the air went heavy yet again, the very space around them bracing itself for another demonstration of arcane prowess. The bear, perhaps sensing it had bitten off more than it could chew, shuffled further backwards, horned head turning hopefully for the safety of the forest.

Lechies turned as well, her staff tucked against her side, swinging it in the bear's direction. Her glyphs breathed a brilliant light as a second rope erupted from her staff's tip. It ensnared the bear just as it had Lily, and down the beast went with a roar of surprise. It thrashed mightily, but the shining coils around its legs held fast, making it a helpless target for whatever the hunter had planned.

'Strike hard and quickly.'

"Don't worry about Lily! Finish it!"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

It will run away, Garrod, don't let it escape. Mark it, mark it so that I can take it in! Belephus growled and hissed.

But he could see the creature had lost its will to fight. It had weighed the risk and it turned to run. 'Good' Garrod thought. "Save me the work of skinning you," he uttered low and to himself, though his hand still clenched tight around the node of mana he had gathered and the air stirred about, swirling round the eye of will that was the spellsword.

Light came. Bright and searing. A serpentine coil of magic which worked its way about the horned bear and tied it down. It panicked. Where the fear for life had urged it to run, now the fear of death possessed it to fight again. Fight until the threats were gone, or until it could fight no more.

In his mind. Garrod could hear the cruel laughter of Belephus.I told you, did I not, Garrod? The greater gift resides in that one there, who cast the rope.

What came next was quick.

"Aeiros," Garrod confirmed, and pressed the mana into his chest. Air swelled around him, an unnatural gust which fed the flames of his sword. And how they flared brighter, hotter, and angrier until they blew out. And in the cold blue after-fire that was, he ran forward with a quickness not shown before. As if the very winds he had willed to this space added their force to his flight. A leap saw him sail upwards, over the bear. His sword turned, in his hands, its gleaming point aimed down like a great fang ready to sink into its bite.

The bear had been trying to gnaw free of the rope. Thrashed its antlers at the bindings, as if it employed a trick that had seen it freed before. It did not see Garrod leap, and it did not see his sword come clean down onto the back of its neck.

All of his weight beared down into the sword that stuck out of the dead bear's flesh. Garrod stood there, leaned there, on his sword as blood ran quick and dark across his feet. His lungs took hungry breaths, and tired sunk into his flesh as the adrenaline blead out of him.

Greedy, Garrod, always so greedy. Never wanting to share with your friend, Belephus, the demon in the jewel tittered. I tell you, it would be easier if you but let me carry some of the load.

With a loud growl, Garrod stiffened, and worked the sword one way, then the other, in a levering motion. One way, then the other, as bone and flesh parted. One way, then the other, until the head came free.

It hit the floor hard.

"Four hundred," he said joylessly, and turned to her, blood spattered as he hefted his sword up and rested it on his shoulder, neverminding the ichor that dripped down from its length. "And half of whatever we get for the horned bear."

 

[Lechies Delrio]

He fell upon his target with the force of a falling star. Mercifully, the horned bear's death was instant.

Lechies released the ropes around the bear once she no longer sensed any fight against them. The golden coils dissipated, glittering motes of dust rising and vanishing into the fog. The air of the clearing seemed lighter too, now that there was no longer any threat of harm to their persons.

Though, the blood-splattered picture that the hunter made suggested the vague possibility of violence, still. His victory pose was something that bards would have sung about in detail, and Lechies supposed that, were she given to such behavior, and if he wasn't wearing a potentially cursed piece of armor, she might have swooned a little in this moment.

Instead, she approached him, heedless of the gore, to inspect the bear's body. Lechies was visibly impressed.

"400," she agreed easily. "For saving the life of our mutual objective, and doing the bulk of the work, I suppose it wouldn't be fair of me to argue otherwise."

Lechies crouched. Her staff went to the grass by her feet as she ran gloved hands over the corpse's antlers. A very fine specimen it was, and would be a wonderful tool for alchemy. The rest of it, she was less concerned about. A distant part of her felt guilty over wasting so much of the kill, but they did still have an uncooperative garr-hound to think about. Lechies would not waste effort on dragging hide, meat, and bone back to town while also dealing with Lily.

"I'll gladly take its antlers," she said. "These will make good reagents. You're welcome to the rest of your spoils as you wish. No need to factor in my share."

Lechies reached into her cloak and retrieved a small knife. A whispered incantation made its edge shine blue, blessed with magical sharpness. She took hold of an antler and pressed the knife to it, but before she started to saw, Lechies peered up at the hunter with a pinched brow.

"Ah, I'm afraid I still don't have the honor of your name."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

A white brow cocked at the mage's response. "Wait wait, did I miss speak?" Garrod asked, incredulous as he flicked the length of his sword, spattering the floor with blood and bits of gore before he sheathed his sword upon his back. "I said half of what we get," he walked over and stood behind her as she willed the magic edge onto her knife. "That includes the antlers."

Who did she think she was kidding? The antlers were the priciest part of a horned bear, and he'd have to sell most of its meat and bones to get close to equaling their value with whatever was left.

"And it's Garrod," he gave her a slight bow of the head, and then pulled his skinning knife from his belt. He took up a spot off to her side, crouched down and began to go to work on the creature's carcass, separating the fur laden hide from the flesh with a practiced efficiency. "Besides," he began, jerking the knife in and slipping it under the membrane of the hide. "Don't you want a nice horn bear cloak for the winter?" He teased, with a long slip of the knife that saw much of the skin come loose in a long section.

"The brown would go nicely with your hair," he went on, though his voice was flat and grunted as he worked the knife, taking little hobbled steps as he moved to keep skinning. "And the richness of this pelt," another long slip, and he removed a whole side of the creature neatly, revealing its naked red flesh. "You'd be the envy of all your friends during the winter." He went on as he laid the skin, fur up on the ground beside him.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Including the antlers. Lechies's lips twitched, wanting to turn down in a frown, but she refrained. Half had been the original offer; it was still the superior offer.

"I'll gladly take half its antlers, then," Lechies said, tone held carefully neutral, "and half the profit from offloading our friend's remains to the butcher and tanner. I trust you don't mind handling the negotiations, Mister Garrod? You do seem to have a talent for haggling."

He stooped by the bear as well, and Lechies was quietly relieved that the arm closest to her was the one that didn't carry the gauntlet. She resumed her own work, enchanted knife sawing close to the skull. The antlers fell away as easily as slices of bread from a freshly baked loaf.

Was he...flirting? It was hard to be certain. From his tone of voice, Lechies suspected he was actually mocking her. She stood and put down her pack, retrieving rope to secure her -- their -- bony prizes.

"This cloak serves me well enough," she said, tugging the article more tightly around herself. The chill of the surrounding mists settled against her skin, their touch distinctly felt but incapable of bothering her. Even the tip of her nose remained warm. "Besides, I don't know that I have very many uses for someone's envy. How about you? Why not wear its pelt yourself? Show off to all your prospective clients how mighty a hunter you are?"

She rounded by the corpse again to take her staff, and, with the antlers slung over her shoulder, moved for Lily. The garr-hound had fallen silent in recent minutes, resigned to her detainment. Still, she seemed intelligent enough to realize that the two humans had acted for her sake, because there was something like gratitude warring with the distrust in Lily's eyes as Lechies drew near.

Lechies examined Lily's wound without touching. Fortunately, the gash across her snout looked worse than it actually was; the bleeding had already stopped. The only issue, Lechies thought, would be explaining to Knoxley what had happened to his beloved pet.

"I've a spell to make the meat and hide lighter for a time, if you need," she called back. "Ease your load on the trip back to Vallond."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod smirked at the sound of her words. "I'll take that as a compliment," he replied, with a sting of mirth "But to tell it true, rare is the dealer who argues prices with a monster hunter, troublesome lot, those ones," He took a small break from his work, and wiped at the sweat that began to gather on his brow, using the back of the wrist which held his knife. He took in a breath, and eyed the knuckles of his gauntled hand. When was the last time he had taken it off?

Why would you go and do a thing like that? The demon in the jewel asked, honey sweet.

Garrod stuck the knife back into the flesh of their prize, and left its handle jutting out. "'Scuse me a moment," He said and stood up. He began to undo the fastens of his gauntlet, pulling leather straps free of brass buckles, careful not to rush, as a dread urgency bubbled in his gut. All the while the pale eye gleamed at him. And he could feel its stare, even when it was not angled toward his line of sight. He could see its shape in the black of his missing eye.

Now you are just being rude, Garrod, won't even let me enjoy the feel of the flesh? The warmth of the blood?

The last belt came loose, and he pulled his hand free from the bone white piece of armor. A trail of whispers pulled from his mind like a thread made from smoke, plucked right out of the loose fabric of his sanity. Garrod stood there, silent for a long breath before he set the gauntlet down next to the strip of bear skin, pealed away from the carcass as it was.

Come now, you know its not that easy, Belephus whispered, softer now, quieter, further away as his milky moon eye shone up from the ground. He bent down and turned it, so the eye faced the dirt, and he could see the sealing runes inside. Still in tact, if a little worn.

Garrod turned away, his now-free hand flexing its muscles as the other massaged the tendons in his wrist. His fingers felt...

"Besides, I don't know..." Came the voice of the other. Lechies.

He smiled softly as he listened to her, and walked out of the strange fog that had swallowed up his senses, back to the work he had left to do. "Not a bad idea," he said as he put the knife back to work. "Though I'm more concerned with the coming cold of winter, than showing off." He looked over at her again, at the cloak she wore and how it fell around her. "Besides, I said half, remember?" He turned back to the meat, and cut loose a sizeable steak. "Plenty of fur for two cloaks."

As she got up and walked away, he kept on working. Soon, the meat was piling up , the end-trails and insides packed together, all resting atop the skin.

She spoke of a spell. "Fancy that," he replied. "And thank you." He worked on. "I was hoping you'd be able to magic out a horse and carriage or something along that sort." He smirked, and continued his efforts. "Though I am curious about that little spell you used on your knife," His eye looked up at her, already asking. "Hard to learn?"

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Lechies breathed a soft chuckle, amused. "It's true that I have some talent in conjury," her eyes lifted pointedly to the bright ropes still twined around Lily, "but I'm afraid feats of that magnitude are beyond me. Perhaps on your next hunt, you'll be lucky enough to befriend a summoner instead.

"Hard? Not really. My 'little spell' was just a magical enhancement. Similar to a blessing, if you'd prefer to think of it that way, though the foundation of my school isn't rooted in devotion to a god."

Even as she spoke thus, Lechies brought one hand up to gently touch her cloak's clasp. The silver object was wrought in the shape of smith's hammer and studded with small sapphires. Hammers were said to be a favored tool of Metisa, goddess of wisdom and progress, of scholars and technology. Lechies did not make daily prayers to Metisa as a priest or paladin might, but she was Lechies's favorite, and the first deity to spring to mind whenever Lechies was under particular duress.

"I trained at Elbion College. My brothers as well, and both my parents." The family tradition might've ended with her due to her poor health, but a certain dark wizard and his ritual secured a livable future for Lechies. She would be forever grateful.

Satisfied that Lily was calm, Lechies turned and returned to the corpse. It was then that she noticed Garrod had removed his gauntlet. With that dreadful clouded gem out of view, Lechies could bear to lay eyes on the armor without her skin crawling. Still, a vague weight tried to settle at the back of her mind, pull her footfalls closer.

She blinked hard and rounded by from Garrod's other side to check on his progress.

"What about you? There were mages at Elbion who combined their craft with weapon arts, though they didn't move with skill like yours. Where were you trained?"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Enchantments, he knew a little bit about those. Or did he use blessings? His mind wandered into his own past as he went on, working the carcass.

What did Artorias call them?

Cantos di Drakon

Songs. But they never really sang them.

'You must feel it, from your belly, down to your feet. Drakon does not bless us, he cares little for us. But we can channel his strength, will it through us. The cantos help us do this. Now, let me finish my drink, will you?

His brows pinched down, and his hand stopped sawing the meat. He shook his head, and went on with the work, stacking another hunk of flesh upon the growing pile. He looked over at the mage as she ended her explenation, and caught the bright glint of her seal.

"College trained, huh?" He asked after she announced her legacy, genuine in his curiosity. "And not just any college, but the College of Elbion." He turned back to his work. " Not every day I meet a real proper Elbion Mage out chasing garr-hounds. Though" He grunted as his knife snagged against tough sinew. Some more force saw it cut through. "I guess its not every day I go chasing garr-hound either, much less pink ones," he chuckled soft and to himself, remembering his thrashed pack, and the loss of the jam that had spurred him on to this quest.

She asked about his own training.

"Nowhere proper, I can tell you that much," he stopped, feeling tired in his wrist, and leaned back on his haunches to rest as she stretched out the muscles in his arms with small adjustments. "I was trained by an old spellsword, maybe you've heard of him? His name is Artorias Sinns, though he'd tell you all his titles too if he were here to tell them. Wicked old drunk," Garrod glanced up at the sky, and sat down on his bottom.

Memories of those days gone by, running through Alliria proper. Hunting ghouls and gheists in the heart of the city. Carrying all of the old man's gear. The long sessions learning form and technique. Fencing and spell slinging. Gods, how he hated it then.

"But he was kind enough to take me off the street and teach me his craft," he craned his neck to regard the old blade upon his back. "That and other things of course. Like how to slip the town guard, lie at cards, and when to stop rolling dice," A genuine smile spread across Garrod's lips. "But best thing he taught me to do was read my letters, and keep count of numbers." He looked over at Lechies again, as he got back up into his squat. "Maybe you can teach me that spell of yours if we find some time?" He asked, and went back to cutting. "May be worth an antler," he teased.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

"Oh, us College wizards spread to all cracks and crevices of Arethil, getting into all sorts of unusual jobs," she joked, a small grin pulling at her mouth. "It's only a small percentage who follow the traditional path of stuffy scholar or brave battlemage."

"Artorias Sinns," Lechies repeated.

She enjoyed hearing tales of fearless, guileless heroes over a cold brew or crackling campfire as much as the next person, but the name that came from Garrod's lips was not one she could associate with any of them. Or could she? Something about it rang familiar, teasing at the edges of her memory.

"I don't know that I've heard of him," she finally said after a thoughtful pause, "but a colleague of mine once told me about a great beast slayer who answered the pleas of a remote mountain village when no one else would. As the story goes, he hunted and slew a pair of nesting wyverns, brought their carcasses and their eggs back to the villagers, and was generally hailed by them as a gods-delivered savior." Her grin returned, brighter this time. "And then he had the gall to ask for twice the original payment and passed out drunk outside their inn. I don't suppose that could've been your master?"

Regardless of any vices, it had been good of the man to look after Garrod, and teach him to read and write -- along with other, less common skills. If Artorias had acted the role of Garrod's guardian, then his parents were most likely...

Well. He had been fortunate. Lechies knew from her travels that many children did not and would not ever have such opportunities.

A minute of companionable quiet fell between them then. Lechies cast a glance around the clearing, wary of any beasts that might have been attracted by the earlier noise, but the mists hung still and silent. She did not think they would be surprised in these woods again today.

"That gauntlet of yours draws the eye," she said. A little bluntly, a little innocently. "I must confess, I'm curious about it. Did your master gift that to you?"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

"Yeah... that certainly sounds like him," Garrod said with a wry warmth in his voice.

It had been some time since he had stopped to think of the old man. Hell, it had been some time since he had stopped to think about much of anything. His mind always felt so full, and yet so empty all the same. Likely a side affect of wearing a demon strapped to his arm so regularly. Then that question came again, as his eye felt pulled back to the armor laid behind him. Back to the bone white plate and the cloudy jewel. But he resisted. He closed his eye and paused his work.

When was the last time he had taken it off?

She asked about the gauntlet.

"Belephus?" he seemed to blurt out. It felt as if the name had been pulled from his mouth by some string. His brow furrowed, and he felt as if he had given that damned demon some small power. "Yes," he went on, tone serious and sober. "I had a particularly challenging job, some years ago," Garrod stopped, and sheathed his knife. "The old man gave me the gauntlet as a type of insurance," there was a part of him that wished to tell more, to let go of some of the weight he carried, but he cut the story short. "It carries an entity sealed within," he said matter of fact. "Eldritch in nature, not to be trusted," he stood up, and turned to face the relic. "But it allows me to wield a power beyond my own," for a price of course, but he doubted that required words to come across.

He got up, and the bear was little more than bones after all the cutting and slicing. Its flesh piled neatly in stacks that sat atop the pelt.

"Take care not to look into its eye for too long," Garrod warned. "It does not cause harm, but... it, it has a strange way of affecting those who do." He smiled grimly, and scratched his nose a bit. "Sorry, may have over shared a bit," he laughed, and moved to the pelt, an started to bundle it up. "Wouldn't know anything about re-sealing dark entities, would you now, Elbion Mage?"

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Belephus. Lechies went rigid, a chill seeping down her back and tracing a path to her extremities. The warmth even fled from the tips of her fingers. 'Ah,' she realized, so she could still feel cold after all.

Unlike the tale of that beast slayer who may or may not have been Garrod's master, Artorias, Lechies was certain this was a name she'd never heard before. Yet, Belephus tried to form an association in her mind, a suggestion of guile and strength, of...

Of sorrow and sympathy. Repeated history. How very strange.

'An entity sealed within', he said. Now that sounded familiar, and Lechies misliked the implications. For a blessing, she had not encountered many cursed objects during her travels, but as someone who had made a career out of the arcane -- and as someone whose soul was tethered to a demon -- Lechies was acutely aware that such matters should be treated with utmost caution.

She watched Garrod rise from his seat, finished at last with his work. How well had he managed to resist the gauntlet's consequences in the time he'd enjoyed possession of it?

What had his master been thinking?

'Not so differently from Mother and Father,' came the thought. The gauntlet gave him power, power to survive the hard life of a hunter. Artorias's motivation could simply have been love for his dear apprentice. In that case, could Lechies fault him?

"Yes, I did notice my attention straying to it against my will. I'll take care to remain vigilant. And no, thank you for telling me." Lechies dipped her head in gratitude, her smile small. "I know it was a somewhat personal question."

"I'm sorry to say I'm no authority on sealing entities," she replied. It was the truth. Just because she carried a demon inside her body didn't mean she had the faintest inkling what magicks had been involved in putting it there. "Do you have need of someone with the knowledge? Ah, but let's take our conversation to the road. Lily's master will be worried sick as it is."

------​

As she had offered, Lechies cast an enchantment on the meat and hides to reduce their weight. Garrod would find it an easy task to lift them, no less strenuous than carrying a few coats on his arm. The spell would wear in an hour, but Lechies had stamina to renew it until they reached Vallond, provided they didn't run into any trouble that required her magic to address it.

Lily was still notably unhappy at her capture, but a sizable scrap of horned bear meat made a sufficient bribe for her cooperation. Lechies modified the glowing rope to loop around her neck, and gave the other end of the leash to Garrod. Her concentration was needed to maintain the rope's existence, she argued, and his warrior's bulk would serve him better than her if Lily tried to lunge away.

The fog finally began to lift when they exited Sulmer Woods. Lechies was only glad to see the expanse of plains and peaceful farmland before them. Out in the open, it was easier to breathe.

She walked on the side of the road opposite Garrod's gauntlet-bearing arm, antlers carried over her shoulder and clacking softly against her back.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

"Of course," he replied, his own voice reserved. She asked a new question, but reminded them of their task. He responded with a nod, and readied for travel.

Do you have need?

The question stuck in his mind like a thorn in his side. Red, it pulsed.

Do you have need?

Even as he gathered the cuts of meat, the furs, and those bones that would be of value, it sounded in his ear. And when it came time to re-adorn the gauntlet, he stood before it. That piece of equipment most foul. Belephus. He reached out to it, and began to work it onto his arm. His fingers fit into the gloves so well. Like a second skin now. The buckles tightened with a grim purpose.

Of course you have need. The demon in the jewel stabbed, tone delightful, sweet, like a needle laced with honey'd poison. Had you no need, why else would you pull me on so tight. Like a babe, afraid of the dark. Pulling their blanket close to keep the nightmares away. Belephus laughed.

Garrod grimaced, flexed the muscles of his arm, and readied for the march ahead.
----

When the enchantment came, Garrod was surprised by how much easier it made his task. What were hundreds of pounds of meat felt like no more than another rucksack packed with supplies for some day's journey.

It was a rather comical sight, come the road and their walk. Loaded to the brim with their prize, greatsword upon his back, golden and glowing leash in one hand, and a pink garr-hound at the other end of it. And there was Lechies, just strolling beside him, in her mage's garb.

"I know you enchanted all this," Garrod grumbled, as Lily scuttled about, sniffing things with her weird fish snout. "And I'm thankful for that, but..." he shifted the bulging sack of magicked prizes slung over his shoulder. "This still seems a little unbalanced."

I can learn a thing or two from this one. Belephus purred with amusement.

The road before them was long and lost on the flat horizon that stretched before thm. Tall golden wheat ready to harvest, seemed to shimmer gold with each easy breeze of autumn wind, and soft rolling hills loomed gently here and there.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Lechies's face had been amused as she watched Lily dart to and fro along the road, pulling curiously at Garrod's leash-grip anytime she saw something worth poking her snout into. When he brought up their distribution of cargo, Lechies's expression shifted instead to one of deep consideration.

"... You have a point. It's not ideal for you to be so laden down that you can't draw your weapon if need be." She paused to shift the antlers, tying the twine to her rucksack's strap around her chest. She twisted her torso to make sure they wouldn't fall. "Alright. Give me half, then?"

As she offered her now free hand, a flicker of movement from above the golden grassy sea caught her eye -- a red cloth, a handkerchief, clutched in the fist of a woman waving it over her head. The stranger shouted words Lechies couldn't make out, but they sounded like distress to her ear.

"A local farmer, it seems," Lechies said, squinting. "I wonder what the trouble is?"

She lowered her hand, still empty, and gave Garrod a meaningful glance as she moved off the road and into the wheat. If there was a citizen in need, then on her honor as a Greendawner, Lechies would be happy to assist if it was within her capabilities.

As she waded closer, she could see that the woman was accompanied by a man, both of them dark-haired and wearing the homespun clothes of field workers. The man was crouched by a wagon, one hand scratching at his beard, the other holding a hammer. The front of the wagon was pitched forward into the earth, its wheels askew. Nearby, an ox enjoyed its rest, tail slapping at insects.

"Ah, many thanks for stopping, traveler," said the woman as she tucked the cloth into her sash. Her eyes were confused as they darted from the antlers to Garrod and his load further back, but she made a visible effort not to comment. "Axle up and broke on us halfway back to the silo. I don't suppose you've ever fixed one?"

Lechies offered a reassuring smile. "I'm no handyman, madam, but I might be able to magic the part back together long enough for you to get to where you're going."

She edged up to the man and knelt. Lechies shifted her pack onto the ground and put her head down close to the dirt, trying to peer under the wagon -- missing how, as the man moved back to make room, he surreptitiously pulled a dagger from beneath his shirt with his other hand.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod smirked and said in warm grumble. "And here I thought my charm had convinced you," his hand already undoing the glowing golden leash that bound the gurgly garr-hound to his arm, and as he was reaching out to offer the burden of their mutual bounty, something moved on the horizon, bright red against the sky.

"Aye, I also wonder," Garrod murmured, and took in the look the mage gave him. He nodded his consent, re-worked the magic leash about his hand, and followed after Lechies. Off the highway and onto a low-road the went, the well worn pack of a trade route turning the the soft dirt and grass of a path less traveled.

Lily didn't like it, but Garrod wound her magic leash tighter about his arm, and readjusted the magic-light sack of bear stuffs slung over his shoulder. The site that greeted them when they reached the wagon was... suspect. The man was just, crouched there, and the look in the woman's eyes. She had waved for help, yet, why did she seem so caught off guard?

Garrod let the sack down and rest his gauntleted hand at his hip. Not too far from his knife.

"How far off is this silo?" Garrod asked. "Didn't see one anywhere on the horizon." He asked as Lechies bent low to investigate the wagon. He noticed the man move in a way that spoke of a blade concealed.

"O-oh?" The lady asked, confused smile on her face. "It's just beyond the hill, traveler, you two are coming in from the forest, yeah? Its no wonder you missed it."

Lily pulled at her leash as she sniffed at the dirt, pulled toward the tall wheat field, Garrod tried to pull her back, but she insisted, and he gave her some slack. "And you don't know how to repair your own wagon? Didn't even bring repair materials?" Garrod shook his head. "This your first season storing harvest?"

Annoyance twitched at the woman's brow, but her smile stayed on, strained as it may have been. "People make mistakes, mister, its been hard times for us this season."

Bearded man jerked to action and brandished his long knife. In a fluid motion, Garrod grabbed a knife at his belt and whipped it at the man behind Lechies. Its heavy head sunk into man's shoulder with a chunk of force that had him groan and stumble back.

The woman let out a highpitched whistle and three more sprung from the wheat field. "Kill this nosey bastard! Try and take the mage in alive! Might be worth a ransom!" She called out as she drew out a long and elegant estoc.

Lily growled and gurgled and barked and Garrod let go of her leash. The bright pink garr-hound turned an angry red and leapt up onto one of the highwaymen, snapping shows gnashing onto his head.