Private Tales What do monsters fear?

[Tozen]

In myth and legend, in story and fable, in reality and study, there are creatures, monsters that go bump in the night.
But a question for the philosophers, a pondering for the inquisitive and curious.
These monsters that man and mer feared throughout time, these monsters that go 'bump' in the night...
For these creatures...
What goes 'bump' in the night for them?

A question no intelligent monster ever considered, those who knew thoughts and bore consciousness. The Ogre never considered that the Troll would steal its deformed spawn away in the night, the Worg never considered that the Griffon would prey on its cubs. The Dragon never though the Wyvern would dare steal its eggs, nor did the Yeti teach its children stories of the Wendigo.
Monsters... The creatures that inspire fear, always thought to never feel it themselves. The beasts that appear unstoppable, driven by the horrifying will to slaughter without care or pity... Even the most intelligent monsters of all, the humanoids who prey on their own kind... What do these creatures fear?

For centuries... since time immemorial... These creatures feared nothing... even with good reason to be afraid no satisfaction ever came from their deaths.

The monsters walk as veritable kings amid the sheep around them, untouchable even in their vulnerabilities...

… However...

​

For the first time since his spawning... The black stringy hairs on the trolls head stood on end as it gazed over a kill it did not make... A bull cow, flesh consumed and the carcass left right in the middle of the farmers field, a fresh kill but from a monster with an odor like no other animal it has ever smelled before...
This troll lived in the foothills of a small forested mountain in the Allirian Reach with this farm as his source of easy prey after it awoke from hibernation. The troll terrorized this countryside and its residence, but not to the point of a witch hunt. The people had even gotten used to his annual presence and accepted it as part of life, allowing him to make his kills in peace so that he may go and bother them no further, a sweet little arrangement.
But now...

Something was in its territory... Hunting... The piggish black eyes narrowed as it twisted its green warted face into a wicked glare, anger boiling up within the black heart of the bent green skinned forest terror. In rage the troll chased down another cow and slaughtered it, eating it ravenously till all but bones and blood remained.
Shall the king of this land be challenged!? Shall the terror of the deep woods stand for this!? He let out the mighty howl of an anguishing loathsome beast!
With murderous intent in its mind it ambled back into the forest with its hunched over gait. This was HIS forest... only HE knew its secrets... and only HE deserved to be feared by the sheep that resided at his mercy...

There was blood in the air, the whole forest stank of it and the troll became on edge, so much so that as it rounded the trunk of a great oak the troll let out an inhuman scream as it came face to face with the filleted carcass of a great grizzly bear hanging from the low branches by its intestines... The troll couldn't understand what was happening... Its heart was hammering in its chest, far greater than any blood frenzy or excitement it has ever felt before... A hunter greater than he? A creature that has already hunted and killed in the trolls own territory without any regard for the unspoken boundaries... and without the troll even knowing about it?!

The troll sat squatting under the reeking carcass as it looked around, sniffing, whining, glancing around nervously. It seemed to the troll that a corpse hid around every corner, around every tree trunk and up in every branch... Everywhere it looked... What did it have to fear? A troll was a regenerating creature, it had fought bears and won every time simply by outlasting them and then slaughtering them... What did the troll have to fear? its nose could pick up the scent of a squirrel from a mile off, or the presence of a newcomer passing through the village from several leagues away...
What did the troll have to fear... And why was it still afraid?
Because this creature could kill a bear without leaving signs of even a struggle on the forest around, and without leaving tracks... And because the troll couldn't smell anything but blood and death within a hundred miles in HIS forest!

But as it sat squatting there it caught a new scent... Back in the direction it came... But how? hardly ten minutes had passed since the troll left that farm... The troll loped back, his long sharp nose close to the ground...
It returned to the farm... Where it saw every last animal laying dead and eaten in the grass...

… The black heart felt terror... And then nothing...

​

The village was having a town meeting. They had come together and scraped up enough money to out a contract at the adventurers guild in the city of Alliria. The contract stated this:

Wanted: Monster Hunter.
Job Details: To hunt down and kill whatever it is that is slaughtering our livestock.
Our animals have been continuously slaughtered for the past two weeks and our village risks poverty if this monster is not stopped.
Reward: 1,000 Gold.​

The farmers had tried to hunt down this beast themselves, thinking it was a troll that their mothers had told stories about to keep them in line. The volunteers went out with weapons and equipment to fight and put down a troll. But the hunters were found the next day half eaten and hanging in the trees by their entrails right outside the village. They were now all gathered at the town hall for a meeting to discuss what else could be done and to see whether their request at the guild would produce a hunter for them.

 

[Achates]

Wandering into town, brought here with orders from her father to arrive and work. He was always far too busy to do missions on his own for their Order. It was starting to kill her since she was the only one that always that got the order to cover him. Where was he? It was a thought that ran through her mind constantly. The orders were from her father, but were never from her father.

Arriving at the local inn, she tossed a few coins and got the key to her room. The man behind the counter eyed her and cleared his throat. His voice was deep and rich with a dwarven accent. “Ey you lookin fer work?” The half elven girl stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Hmm? What do you mean?”

The red bearded dwarf waddled over and handed her a paper. “I seen ye crossbows, figured ye was a hunta” Achates nodded and took the paper. “I’ll check it out, thanks.” The dwarf handed her back her coin and motioned that her stay was free. Taking them back, Achates was partially thankful, her allowance from the Order. She watched as people headed towards the town hall and she followed them and listened in at the town meeting.

They called for someone to handle this monster, though it looked like the guild was lacking heroes. Frowning, she knew this was what her father was wanting her to deal with. As soon as she noticed no one was raising their hand she rose hers and volunteered.

Cheers and murmurs echoed in the hall and Achates was patted on the back. So it started and she was given the information she needed. Appearing back in her room she examined the information and sighed heavily. She had seen this before, but it was typically another like her or something more monsterous.

There were sketches of what had happened to cause the reward and she frowned, this was over the top - there had to be something more to this.

Evening came and Achates climbed down the stairs and headed towards where the farm was - where the troll had been last sighted. She moved quietly and remained hidden in th shadows.

 

[Tozen]

The shadows were lengthening as she made her way to the farm. The farm had since been abandoned since all their livestock was slaughtered in one night. The smell of blood was thick on the light breeze that began to ruffle the branches of great pines overhead, perhaps the foretelling of a gale moving in. Not ideal for creatures who tracked by scent.

The sun lowered still further as time went on and stars began to twinkle in the clear sky, but a cold unprotected night was unlikely, as evidenced by the overcast front being moved closer by the wind. Before the light disappeared for good birds and little forest creatures busied themselves about their evening routines, gathering food and bedding down for the blustery night.
As of now the breeze was still slight, the storm-head still a ways off. If her nose were so attuned she could still possibly detect a stronger and fresher scent of blood coming from where the troll had first sat in the cover of the trees and found the scene of the crime on the farmers field.

As soon as the sun had gone the countryside seemed to become quiet as a grave... Save for the wind, and dark clouds were slowly blown in to cover the light of moon or stars. It was the silence that followed an unnatural invasion... The way the wild of nature responded to a creature that has found no place in its ecosystem... A violation of natural law.

And this violation had a mind, cunning, cruel, savage, intelligent. An abomination born of ancient mistakes which made an animal, a monster, an aberration that knew no fear or any natural predators. A creature that knew to kill and ultimately... It knew its own name.

 

[Achates]

Achates took in a deep breath, trying to take in whatever smells clung to the air. She had hoped that she could find something lingering allowing her to track whatever had been harassing the area. Frowning, the girl couldn’t catch anything. It was either good at hiding its tracks or the environment was playing a bigger part than she had gauged.

Wandering towards the outskirts of town, Achates wrapped her coat around her slender frame as she continued down the dirt road. Her eyes adjusted to the evening’s darkness; it was one of the few times she thanked her father’s lineage. Blinking quickly, she watched the shadows dance across the pathways.

“Rodents and critters, could mean a few things.” She stopped and looked around. She knew if wildlife was around, she was probably not in the right area. A soft sigh, she continued to move out towards the farms that were surrounding the town. They were the most recent targets, so it was wise to head out there.

Tozen

 

[Tozen]

As she drew nearer the smells grew stronger, as did the wind wafting the scents along with the breeze. The farms, again, were empty save for a few scavengers that picked at the carcasses of cows, sheep, chickens, horses. The body count was so high that the farmers didn't bother with disposing them before they left, gathering flies and carrion birds and other creatures such as foxes wolves or bears. The tracks of such animals surrounded the dead animals, trampling away any sign of the original killer.

But apart from the dead farm animals, the scent of fouler blood could be detected over the cacophony of scents, the spoor easily detected to be coming from the forest.
The troll was dead, it hung from its own entrails in the branches of the trees, its flesh long dead without any sign of regeneration. It hung just below the lowest branches of the great cedar and pine trees of the forest, in plain view of any who walked near.

The trolls face was frozen in fear, its open eyes rolled back to white orbs of sheer terror. Its foul black blood and bile stained the moss and bushes below it in a reeking congealed pool. This was certainly the troll of the village legends, and now it hung dead and lifeless from a tree.
The wind carried this foul smell to the nose of the elf, but the wind was not so strong yet that her scent escaped the sensitive nose of the silent killer.

Golden catlike eyes opened as the spoor tickled his nose. A humanoid of some kind, smells familiar, yet unfamiliar. He had likely killed a few elves before, so he knew their basic scent... But this was a strange smell. Long hooking claws extended from his fingers and gripped into the bark of the tree limb he slept on. He stretched his sinuous iron hard muscles and then sat erect on the branch. The great cedar had provided good shelter to the abomination, trophies of the dead village hunters hung by their entrails around where he slept, but now it was time to hunt once more.

He threw a black cloak around his broad shoulders, covering himself with the course cloth before he leapt with his powerful legs from his branch to land in another tree several yards away. Using this preferred method of travel he silently made his way towards the carcass of the troll.