Stalking the Beast

by Howard Andrew Jones

  "You know it doesn't work like that."

  "In Kyonin it does."

  "Yes, well, this isn't Kyonin."

  "That's abundantly clear." He eyed her for a moment. "You promised me an officer's position. But you did not announce it."

  For all that she remained uncertain about Illidian, she at least liked that he was far more direct than many of the elves she'd known. "Because," she said, "by your own admission, you wished to demonstrate your ability first."

  "That's true," Illidian conceded. His gaze darkened. "I wish my people had heard me out. I could have brought a true force here, Elyana. A regiment of archers, backed by wizards."

  "Why didn't they?"

  He laughed shortly, bitterly. "Because the beast has left Kyonin. The humans are right when they call us cowards."

  "Another elf would simply say you're cautious."

  "A convenient lie," Illidian said tersely.

  He had hinted at all of this before, but she did not remind him. Illidian seemed capable of only two lines of conversation: this one, and the other about vengeance against the beast that had killed his soldiers and taken his arm. She wondered if he had always been so single-minded.

  Elyana nodded a farewell and walked back to the porch she used as her speaking platform. Illidian did not take the hint, and followed.

  He stopped at her side as she looked over the combatants once more. "How is it that you got involved?"

  That struck her as an odd question. "It needs to be done."

  "I'm not referring to the hunt for the monster." With a sweep of his good arm he took in Delgar's square and figures assembled within, and the roughhewn timber buildings beyond. "I mean this town, and these people. How could you possibly be invested in their long-term future?"

  "I'm not sure that's your business."

  "Isn't it, cousin? Your temperament is well suited for service in Kyonin's border rangers. I'm told you even briefly served among them."

  "You would think," she said. "But Kyonin's rangers have no place for my best friend."

  That struck Illidian silent, but only for a short time. "Are you referring to the half-orc? You name him your best friend?"

  She was long since ready for this conversation to be finished. Yet she managed a thin smile. "You're a warrior, Illidian. You've risked your life beside comrades who would give their life for you. Haven't you?"

  "You are correct."

  "Then you know the greatest test of loyalty comes from those who stand with you in battle. I trust Drelm with my life. He has never failed me."

  "That's very interesting," Illidian said. She wasn't entirely sure what he meant by the comment. "That I can understand, then, Elyana," he went on. "But why have loyalty to this place? You can see humans changing year to year. In ten or twenty more, the lord mayor might be dead, and then who can say what will happen to Delgar? Without another strong hand it will go the way of all the wilderness towns. Incompetents will run it into the ground, or bandits will pillage the place, and soon there will be nothing left of it but the ruined keep the mayor found, unmourned and forgotten."

  "I'm not really doing this for Delgar."

  He cocked his head to one side, with his strange arm momentarily bringing to mind a bird with a broken wing. "Why, then?"

  "I'm fond of many here," she said, thinking of Demid, and the mayor, and many of the folk she interacted with each day. Elyana looked over to Drelm. "And this is Drelm's chance to have a home. A wife. I mean to help him secure it before I leave."

  "You're leaving?"

  She wondered why she had told him that. She'd said nothing of her decision to anyone else.

  Another familiar male figure was making his way toward the platform. Avelis, spare, well manicured, simply dressed. As usual, he had ignored her standing recommendation and ventured forth without a guard of his own. With all these strangers in the city, he still insisted he would keep no barriers between himself and the community.

  He raised a hand in greeting, then paused to watch a grizzled archer let fly at a distant target.

  "That is between the two of us," Elyana said. "Neither the mayor nor Drelm have heard a word of the matter. I wish them to hear it first from me."

  "It shall be as you wish." Illidian followed the direction of her gaze. "I must admit that this particular man seems a cut above the ordinary. I think I understand your...appreciation of him as well."

  "I am glad," she said. "Illidian, you're going to have to command humans if you serve with me."

  "If?"

  "A commander's responsible for all the lives under his command. Elf, human, or whatever else."

  His lips thinned; his tone grew clipped. "I take my command seriously."

  "I know you do. But I wonder if you'll value all lives equally. Even short ones."

  His head rose indignantly. "I don't like what you imply."

  "I'm not implying, Illidian. I'm telling you that you're prejudiced. If you mean to command soldiers that I've selected, you'll treat them just like your elves, or you'll answer to me."

  The elf's expression darkened further, but the mayor's arrival silenced him.

  The mayor smiled, favoring her with a head bow. "Good morning, Elyana. And to you, Captain Illidian." Avelis rested one hand on his belt buckle and shielded his eyes from the sun, now rising over the treetops. "How are the candidates looking?"

  "I think a number are promising," she answered.

  "A few of the applicants asked to see me personally," Avelis said casually. "Either out of politeness," at this he nodded to Illidian, "or because they wished special treatment, or because they wanted to sign on as officers."

  Elyana nodded.

  "Apart from the captain here, the only interesting one was the markswoman. Have you seen her use her strange weapon?"

  "I have," Illidian answered. "She's remarkable."

  "I thought she might be. I was hoping to see her do it, though. Did she make the cut?"

  "So far," Elyana replied. "I'll speak with all the candidates before I make my final decisions."

  "Of course." Avelis faced Illidian. "Captain, is there anything else you require? Were your quarters satisfactory yesterday evening?"

  "You are very kind to ask, Mayor." Illidian imitated Avelis's own head bob. The mayor's polite formality seemed to engender it in response. "My men were as comfortable as if we rested in our own beds."

  Elyana doubted that, for she had occasionally slept on fine elven linens, so soft she could rub her finger along one and feel no fibers.

  The mayor brightened at the compliment. "That's good to hear. I'm so glad you're along. Elyana is never as cautious of her own welfare as might be nice. A good general commands from the rear, not from the front, but she and Captain Drelm constantly risk themselves in the heat of battle. Knowing you'll be accompanying her reassures me she'll be coming back alive."

  "I will do my best to ensure her welfare," Illidian answered.

  Elyana frowned. "All I need from you is to carry out my commands."

  The elven captain's smile was icy. "But of course."

  paizo.com #3236236, Corry Douglas , Aug 10, 2014

  Chapter Five

  Blood and Bullets

  Drelm

  The tower's banquet hall seemed a lot smaller now. Light lanced in from arrow slit windows high along the walls, piercingly bright, but it was the candelabra that painted the shadows on the walls. It was blunt and heavy, suspended by thick chains, and Drelm himself had seen it lowered and hoisted many times as the candles were readied before one of the lord mayor's important gatherings.

  Today that wagon-wheel candelabra hung over an odd and mismatched assortment of men and women. He and Elyana and the crippled elf, Illidian, stood at one end of the table, and the grim and grizzled veterans they'd selected sat on the wooden benches that flanked it.

  Drelm had been taught by Lord Stelan to know the soldiers under his command, and so he had already committed their names to memory. H
e was already acquainted with the slim woman in the blue feathered hat with the dangerous eyes—Lisette. Next to her was the dwarf, Karag, who always returned his scrutiny with a glower. He'd bear watching, because dwarves often made it a point to manufacture grudges.

  Next to them were two sellswords from Tymon: Marika, dressed in furs and boasting a terrific scar along one half of her face, and Grellen, a heavy-lidded blond with a frontiersman's fringed leathers. Drelm himself had picked these two, and even if he had not learned something of their history, from the way they'd yelled encouragement to each other during the trials and were always found no more than a few paces apart, it was easy to guess they worked together.

  At their side was a small lean fellow with short dark hair, all deadly speed and sharp knives. Venic, he called himself, and Drelm had thought him a city creature until he'd seen how softly he moved through the undergrowth in the wilderness trial.

  There were also the two elves. Galarias was blood cousin to Illidian, with gold hair and flawless skin, both deadly accurate and self-possessed. He had yet to speak a word, but Drelm knew he understood the common tongue, for Galarias had followed all instructions without hesitation. Aladel was dark of hair and eye, and if he was not quite as fine a shot as Galarias, he was a better blade. He wore blacks rather than the Kyonin border patrol's brown and green, and he was different from both Illidian and Galarias in the comfortable way he mixed with non-elves.

  The next member of their group stood only the size of a half-grown child. Drutha the halfling was dressed fully in forester's green from hat to boots, in an outfit hung with satchels and pockets and holders for vials and globes. She didn't have that merry, friendly, insipid look Drelm had glimpsed on the faces of many halflings, but Drelm still wondered as to her utility, no matter that Demid and Elyana had chosen her.

  Then there was a rangy human, Calvonis, who identified himself as a farmer, though he'd worn a tarnished helmet and old leathers when he'd fought. There was no missing the martial past in his bearing, or the way he wielded his sword. He said that he'd been farming until the monster had destroyed his home near Riverton and killed his wife. Drelm understood the need for vengeance, and how it could knock a man off his stride, and he respected the man's incredible focus during every trial.

  Next to him were the two magic-workers: flame-haired Vatok, the smiling, paunchy wizard dressed in comfortable traveling clothes; and the old Oaksteward, anchored to his staff and looking dour and serious, in part because of the graying eyebrows that shaded his eyes.

  Finally, there was Cyrelle the huntress, a sturdy woman of broad shoulders, tall or taller than any man at the table. For all that her hair was short and coarse, and the fact that she was easily twice as wide around as Elyana, she somehow reminded Drelm of his friend.

  "So here you are," Elyana said. "Congratulations. Take a look around the table, and know that some of us here are going to die."

  Drelm almost smiled at the startled reactions that spread through the group. Elyana had guaranteed their attention, although a few reacted differently than he would have anticipated. Galarias seemed unfazed, which might simply have been that cultivated elven aloofness, and Venic reacted with all the passion of a lizard. Karag actually looked angry, and Lisette smiled thinly, as though Elyana had shared a private joke that only she was clever enough to comprehend.

  "We'll raise our odds if you remember who's in charge," Elyana continued, "and follow orders. The three of us"—at this she raised a hand to Illidian and Drelm—"will be leading. If you don't obey, you're out. If you feel like you can't obey, you're out. I hope there're no questions on that score." Elyana paused, scanned the group, and continued. "We'll divide into squads in a moment. Right now, I mean to get to business." Elyana put palms down on the table and leaned toward them. "The monster. Over the last weeks we've gathered all the information we could find on the thing. That's meant sorting through the ridiculous and the exaggerations to get to the truth of what we'll be facing."

  "Is the thing really invisible?" Drutha asked. Her voice was bright and high, but not guileless.

  Elyana did not take exception to the question. "It is," she said, nodding slowly. "But we still have a fair idea of its size and abilities. Illidian?"

  With his one hand, the elf pulled a long roll of parchment and set it on the table. He held it in place with his palm while he unrolled it by pushing with his hook.

  "Hold that, please," he instructed Calvonis, the nearest to the far corner, and then looked over to Galarias at the other. "Cousin, if you don't mind?"

  Galarias grasped the paper, and Illidian then glanced to Drelm.

  The half-orc didn't want to be bothered with holding a corner throughout what was likely to be a long-winded talk, so he drove his knife through the border, affixing it to the table.

  Illidian blinked at him in mild disapproval, then apparently decided Drelm's action was unworthy of comment. He put his crippled arm behind his back. "From its tracks, we estimate the beast at least four horse lengths long. There is evidence of a tail that likely stretches almost that length. The feet are wide around as a decent-sized tree bole, though a shade smaller than Captain Drelm's waist."

  The halfling down the table chuckled. Drelm frowned, for he had not seen humor in the remark.

  Illidian continued. "It has claws upon these feet, and we have seen scales when blood ran from them." The elf's eyes burned. "We have drawn its blood; we can bring it down."

  Illidian used a charcoal pencil to sketch a vaguely lizardlike form on the paper, complete with tail. "We can't say with any certainty what its height is. There are other challenges in addition to its tough hide. It is capable of spraying corrosive venom."

  "Corrosive?" The mercenary Grellen asked.

  "It could melt your face," Drelm answered. He had asked the same question when Illidian had used the term earlier. Grellen's eyes widened, and he exchanged a concerned glance with Marika beside him.

  "It does not do so continually," Illidian went on, "which suggests to me that it may take a while for the accretion to build, or that it requires concentration or aim. What it does use, repeatedly, are two long grasping appendages." Illidian sketched out two snakelike tendrils extended from the beast's shoulders.

  "As we have not seen it, we cannot be sure as to where these tentacles are attached, or, indeed, their true reach. But the monster deploys them with great speed and strength. They don't seem to be able to extend more than half again the length of the monster itself." Illidian set down the pencil. "They are capable of squeezing a full-grown warrior to death in a matter of moments. Are there any questions so far?"

  Someone down the table laughed in disbelief.

  "You say that you've drawn blood," Karag, the dwarf, interjected. "With what? I've heard arrows just bounce off its hide."

  "Scales, not hide," Illidian corrected.

  "I have drawn blood," Drelm told the dwarf. "With my axe. A good blade, solidly delivered, can slice through."

  "But doesn't the thing just vanish?" the wizard Votek asked. "And then return, fully healed? What's the point in attacking it at all?"

  "We will attack to kill," Elyana said. "And we'll move onto the how of that in a moment. Right now we want to stay focused on what the beast can do. Illidian?"

  The elf resumed his lecture. "It can vanish, seemingly on the instant. It doesn't seem to return right away once it's wounded even a little. I must also point out that it is almost completely silent. You cannot hear its tread, heavy as it is, although you can feel the ground shake."

  "How is that even possible?" Marika demanded. Her voice rose in wonder.

  "Magic," Votek answered, and the scarred mercenary woman looked down the table at the wizard.

  Votek rested his hands on his plump belly. "It's likely some wizard's experiment gone wrong, or else a monster wandered in from another plane. It's clearly no natural creature."

  "The wizard's got to be right," Karag agreed. "But how will we fight it if we can't even see
it? And the wizard's right about another thing—if it just disappears, how will we ever kill it?"

  Elyana's eyes glittered, and Drelm knew a sense of satisfaction, for Elyana had told him the answer before the meeting.

  "The moment we know we're in the presence of the beast, Cyrelle will deploy her hounds." Elyana leaned out across the table to indicate the sides of the drawing. "Even if we can't see the beast ourselves, its location will be defined by the animals that smell it. From there, Drutha and Votek will deploy spells that both stain and harm it. In moments we'll have a better idea of its location and anatomy. Our friend Jorn"—she looked down the table at the Oaksteward—"will use his influence over the natural world to slow the beast."

  "That's all well and good," Calvonis said, "but what about harming the thing? How do we get close to it if it's whipping around tentacles that we can't even see?"

  Illidian answered. "We damage it as much as we can from a distance, first. We've taken steps already as far as arrows." He bent down beside him and set a long feathered shaft upon the parchment paper. "All the arrows carried by archers in this group will be affixed with stone heads." He lifted the weapon so that it caught the sunlight. "They penetrate more deeply and have more stopping power. And these have been enchanted by an elven spellcaster."

  Votek leaned back in his chair. "It sounds as though you've given this matter a lot of thought."

  "Yes." Illidian's answer was clipped. "You might say that."

  "The plan," Elyana said, "is for the dogs and magic wielders to ‘paint' the thing's location and for arrows to keep it busy. We've acquired toxins to apply to sword and axe blades for those of you who have to get in close. That will include me," she added. "Even if the thing vanishes, I hope we can count on its wounds and poison finishing the thing off."

  Marika cleared her throat and stretched huge arms, finally cracking a knuckle. She looked to her side, as if searching for someplace to spit, then seemed to think better of it. "That's all well and good," she said finally, her voice betraying a faint, rolling accent that Drelm hadn't been able to place. "But this is a battle plan for perfect conditions. There's no telling where we'll face this thing. Battles are chaotic. The odds of us being able to rally to meet it are...well, I'd think it more likely I'd end up in bed with a Taldan duke."