Stalking the Beast

by Howard Andrew Jones

  The half-orc had never seen a burning monster like this before, but he wasn't afraid. The line of dripping blackness that crossed the creature's torso showed he had hurt the thing, and if he could hurt it, he could kill it.

  When the creature pushed off hind legs to charge on all fours, Drelm timed his swing against the moment its left hand touched ground. He took the limb off at the elbow.

  The thing screeched and tumbled. Drelm dodged too late and was bowled aside by the creature's smoldering body. Calvonis was beside him then, waving a sword and shouting something about the heat.

  Lisette was braver. She screamed at the monster as it searched for footing. "Look up here, goat-rutter!"

  It showed black fangs as she fired both pistols, one a split second after the other. Both bullets hit, and one eye socket disintegrated into red ruin. The other bullet blew out the back of the monster's blazing head. Still it surged forward, screaming and reaching with both its clawlike hand and its smoking stump. Drelm knocked Lisette clear and brought the axe down across its shoulders. There was a spray of black ichor, and then the thing vanished in a flood of black smoke before it struck the ground. Only the trail of burning grass and the broken, blackened body of the wizard testified as to its existence.

  Cyrelle's hounds had come back up the slope and now harried the larger beast's back legs. One invisible tentacle had snatched up the little sorcerer's brother, Poul, who stabbed weakly at the limb he could not see with a dagger.

  Drelm hefted his axe and charged.

  He sliced his axe into what the wizard's glowing dust showed as a thick neck and was rewarded with a spray of blood. Partly blinded, he nonetheless swung again, for the ichor had defined a larger patch of the monster's scaled flesh.

  The half-defined lizard face turned, and he smelled a fetid reek. Drelm leapt to the right as another gout of smoking acid sprayed, but was unprepared for the heavy object that collided with him. It was the other tentacle. He'd almost forgotten about them. A thick, serpentine mass suddenly constricted his waist even as it lifted him bodily into the air. His angle was bad, but Drelm twisted and struck deeply, and there was a satisfying gush of foul-smelling blood. He was raising his axe for a second blow when the thing whipped him free, and he sailed helplessly through the air.

  Drelm released the axe and threw his hands in front of him, thinking he might catch himself and roll. But he found he had no control while airborne, and in a moment he was upon the ground, stunned and groaning. He could not be entirely sure where he hurt, because everything was in pain. He heard the barking of dogs and screaming, but it all seemed to be from far, far away.

  He wasn't sure how long he lay there, his vision going in and out. It seemed a very long while before someone with a weak grip raised his head to pour something down his throat. Drelm drank without hesitation, and immediately felt renewed vigor. He sat up, blinking, and found himself regarding the curly-haired halfling.

  "I thought that might bring you around," Drutha said.

  Drelm reached for his axe, then remembered he'd let it go. His eyes now working properly, he searched the darkness for sign of the monster.

  But he didn't see anything. Votek's spell must have faded, or the monster had vanished.

  He staggered to his feet and ripped his knife from his belt. There was the pile of rags that was the druid, still smoking. Nearby, a shirtless red-haired form lay twisted on its side, licked by flame. The girl who'd claimed to be a sorcerer was weeping over the twisted corpse of her brother a little farther off.

  But no one was fighting anymore. He turned to the halfling. "Where's the monster?"

  "Vanished," Drutha reported quickly. "It just up and vanished, right in the middle of taking a bite out of Marika. It seemed to be taking some real damage, finally."

  Drelm then realized a number from their troop were missing. "Where's Elyana?"

  "She's out looking for the summoner, along with Cyrelle and Aladel."

  "Casualties?"

  "Our healer and wizard are dead. So are Marika, and Poul. Illidian and Galarias are wounded."

  The half orc grunted and sheathed his knife.

  It was worse than the halfling had told him. Of the wounded, Illidian's cousin Galarias was best off. A bloody bandage wrapped his forehead. He was tending to Illidian, who lay on the forest floor near the fire, breathing raggedly. The captain's shirt was heavy with blood.

  Lisette and Calvonis were on guard, watching the distance.

  Drelm had no personal regard for Illidian, but he respected the elf's fighting prowess. They'd need all the swords they could get to take the thing down. He stepped up to Galarias to get a report. "How bad is he?"

  Galarias glanced up. "I have successfully stopped the bleeding," he said, his accent rather thick. "But I am not a true healer. He is very weak, and there is little I can do for him."

  Drelm frowned. "Drutha, you have any more of that stuff you had me drink?"

  The halfling trotted up. "I gave you all I had," she said, adding, "You looked worse than he did."

  That was saying something, because Illidian looked pretty bad.

  "Drelm has a penchant," Illidian said weakly, "for getting knocked down by the beast. We share that much, don't we, Captain?" The elf offered a death's-head's grin.

  Drelm nodded. He respected a warrior who could take a few blows and keep fighting.

  "Who's watching the perimeter?" he asked.

  Lisette spoke up quietly from beside him. "Karag, Calvonis, and Grellen. You're welcome, incidentally."

  Drelm really didn't understand why warriors needed to hear thanks, but now, after the battle, was a time for praise. "Nice shot with the monster."

  Illidian tried to prop himself up on one arm, wincing. "The summoner targeted those he thought were the most dangerous. The wizard. You. The druid. He toys with us, to show his power."

  "I didn't know he could call up other monsters," Drelm said.

  "Now you do." Illidian gritted his teeth and sank slowly back against the grasses. "Let's hope he doesn't have any more...surprises."

  "Elyana had best return shortly," Galarias looked up at Drelm. "You should sound your horn for her. Illidian's heartbeat weakens."

  The half-orc lifted the horn to his lips and let out a blast. He noticed then that his own breath seemed a little short.

  As if he himself had conjured her, Drelm heard the clomp of hooves, and Elyana rode in, trailed by Cyrelle, Aladel, and a pack of hounds. Three of the dogs, Drelm noticed suddenly, were missing.

  "Illidian needs you," Drelm said as Elyana dropped down beside him.

  Elyana was splattered in dirt and gore. Her brow wrinkled as her gaze swept over Drelm. "Gods, you look terrible."

  Drelm grunted.

  "I'll see to you next," Elyana said, then bent down beside the one-armed elf. Galarias spoke rapidly to her in Elven, and so too did Illidian, though his voice was so low Drelm wondered if he was understandable even to his fellow elves.

  Drelm had seen Elyana work her healing magic before, and it was often interesting to watch. She knelt over Illidian, closed her eyes, then rolled up the blood-soaked shirt and set hands to the naked flesh of the captain's chest. Drelm suddenly realized what he'd assumed was a bunch in the bloody fabric was a spot where one of Illidian's ribs had poked up the shirt.

  As Drelm watched, the bone sank into its proper place. A muscle wound itself around the bone, and then skin grew suddenly across the rents and tears in the captain's chest.

  Elyana sat back, gathering her own breath.

  Illidian's eyes focused upon her own. He spat out a question, in Elven, and Elyana answered curtly. Whatever she said sent his eyebrows arcing up his high forehead. Quickly, though, he mastered himself and answered with a short phrase of his own.

  Elyana then rose and turned to the others. "We will bury our dead, and rest, then move out at dawn."

  "Move out where?" Drutha asked. "What if it comes back right now?"

  "It's wounded," Elyana repli
ed, "and its summoner is a magic-user like any other. I've fought wizards before. They don't have unlimited reservoirs. They need rest, and time, to prepare new spells. I don't intend to give this one time. Drelm, come with me."

  She then led Drelm away over by the edge of the circle, several paces apart from where Grellen kept watch in a tree. That odd hiccupping noise, Drelm realized, was the sound of Cyrelle sobbing as she dug a hole for one of her hounds. The rest of her animals assisted with the hole by concentrated effort with their front paws.

  Elyana made Drelm sit and then gingerly removed his helmet before tossing it down. He didn't remember it being so tight.

  "I don't think you'll be wearing that thing again," she observed.

  There was only a slim trickle of light from the campfire this far from it, but there was no missing the huge dent in the back of the helm. "Drutha gave me a healing draught."

  "A good thing." Elyana laid cool hands to the side of his face. He watched her close her eyes and the thought of Daylah came unbidden to him as her expression relaxed. There were significant differences between the elf's high cheekbones and Daylah's round softness, but they were both pleasing to look upon.

  Other aches he'd barely noticed were gone then, as well as a ringing head pain. Elyana sat back, breathed out. "You'd fractured your skull. And here I always thought it was rock hard."

  Drelm grunted. "Why bring me here?" he asked softly.

  There'd been no reason to perform her healing anywhere in particular, but she had deliberately brought them as far from any other member of the expedition as possible. What with the sound of digging and the calls of night animals, they were effectively out of hearing range of anyone so long as they whispered.

  "We circled the campground for a half-mile out," Elyana said. "Aladel, Cyrelle, and her hounds. It's possible one of us missed spoor in the darkness, but Aladel and I are pretty old hands at this, and Cyrelle's hounds turned up no interesting scents."

  Drelm thought he understood, but he wanted to hear her explain to make sure he hadn't missed something. "So the summoner wasn't there? Maybe he was up in a tree."

  "Possibly. But wouldn't the dogs have caught scent of him? There would have been tracks up to a tree."

  "He's a wizard, right? Couldn't he fly?"

  "Karag says he—or she—is a summoner, and it seems true. I've never fought one, but from what I've heard most of a summoner's spells are about conjuring monsters. Like that flaming thing you fought. It didn't occur to me that he could summon more than one thing at a time, but I won't make that mistake again."

  Drelm nodded. "He might know some other spells, too."

  "He surely does. Remember how close the tracks of his steed were to the monster? I think he must have some kind of control range or communication limit. Or maybe he just wants to stick around and watch."

  "Alright." That sounded reasonable to Drelm.

  "Think on this. The summoner's beast knew its way up through our spike traps. He or she targeted our wizard, who was probably our best chance against the monster, and killed our healer so we'd remain weak. I can keep us going, but I'm easily tapped out. The summoner knew exactly where to strike. And there were no tracks outside the camp showing where he commanded from." She paused then, watching him, and he knew that was a hint to puzzle things out.

  Her meaning came to Drelm in a flash. "It's someone inside our group," he growled.

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

  Chapter Nine

  Fallen Friends

  Lisette

  The job just kept getting worse.

  Lisette had crept silently up on Illidian's tent. She'd understood the Elven words passed between the captain and Elyana while Illidian lay wounded, knew that when he'd asked for tracks she'd answered they must talk, and understood that Elyana was worried about something new.

  Illidian and his underlings were the only expedition members who slept in tents. Galarias and Aladel shared one, but Illidian slept alone. That made creeping up to listen in on the conversation a little simpler.

  Once Lisette had heard Elyana's speculations about the summoner's location, she wondered why she hadn't thought of the issue herself. Of course the summoner would infiltrate their group. It wasn't as though the expedition organizers had been secretive. They'd apparently advertised for it up and down the Sellen's run through the River Kingdoms.

  Lisette lay there in the darkness as the elves debated the likely suspects. Both Elyana and Illidian were able to concede to the other that neither of them was the summoner, and Illidian agreed it couldn't be Drelm, but Elyana refused to be dead certain about Galarias or Aladel.

  Lisette had never thought of herself as charitable, but she was willing to believe the other elves were free and clear. A good commander knew her, or his, operatives. So she could discount Elyana, Drelm, all three elves, and herself and Karag. Seven eliminated and three dead left her with few suspects: the halfling Drutha; the huntswoman Cyrelle; the warriors Calvonis and Grellen; and the girl, Melias.

  Lisette, like the elves, had seen almost every one of those five involved in some aspect of the combat, whether it was Calvonis screaming as he swung at the monster's flank, or Drutha peppering the creature's side with flasks that broke to scatter smoking blue fire, or Grellen dragging his dying friend to safety. She supposed one of them might have been faking. It might be that the summoner was planning to slowly thin their ranks, and to sow more fear. If nothing else, with both the wizard and the healer dead, the expedition had been fairly well crippled.

  The girl hadn't managed much of anything besides launching some sort of ineffective dart spell while her brother died. How could it be her, though? Surely no one but a teenager could be as naively self-centered and stubborn as Melias has been so far.

  The summoner's identity as a mole was an unpleasant knot, and Lisette was cursing herself for being so foolish as to get involved in unraveling it. It was bad enough that, once again, she'd helped her eventual target. Avelis didn't want Drelm dead until the monster was finished, and she was holding to that both because she honored her contract and because she was starting to suspect they needed every hand possible against the monster.

  She lay silent, then felt a cold chill as Elyana revealed something completely new. The Galtan assassin Lisette had killed had arranged for a note to be sent to the elf in case of his disappearance, and it had exposed her background as an assassin. Lisette's mind spun with her possible courses of action even as she wondered why Elyana hadn't already acted against her.

  She then realized that naturally Devin hadn't known Lisette's target when he'd written the note—how could he, seeing as how she'd killed him shortly after he'd learned? So Elyana didn't know who Lisette was after and, as she told Illidian, wasn't convinced the accusation was true. Elyana was inclined to believe the letter had been meant only to cause trouble.

  "You should have said something to me about this earlier," Lisette heard Illidian reply to Elyana.

  "I had no opportunity, and I wished to observe her."

  Lisette used an old breathing exercise to force her racing heart down to a normal speed. It was not yet time for flight, or fighting.

  "I have observed Lisette," Illidian said, "and she's had ample opportunity to attack one of us. She hasn't taken it."

  Lisette smiled at that. The mayor's complicated instructions had at least bought her a little more time. How could anyone think she was after Drelm when she'd risked her life to defend him?

  Elyana seemed inclined to agree with Illidian's opinion, and in the end both she and the elven captain decided that while Lisette might bear watching, she was not likely to be the summoner, or in league with him.

  Eventually they too turned their conversation to Melias. Like Lisette, they doubted she could be the culprit. Illidian, though, was wondering if she might be rendered useful.

  "Let's see how capable she is," Illidian suggested.

  Elyana sounded doubtful. "You'
ve seen her spellwork. She's a rank beginner."

  "Even a rank beginner can work a wand. I saw you give that one you told me about to Votek. Did he learn how to work it?"

  "Not that he mentioned to me."

  "Show it to her."

  "I doubt she'll make any headway with it."

  "You're probably correct, but what harm will come of it?"

  Elyana was quiet for a long time, and Lisette strained to listen in, wondering if she were whispering. Finally, though, she heard the woman sigh. "Very well. It will do no one any good if it's just tucked into the wizard's rucksack."

  They then fell into a long discussion about the wand, and the mad sorcerer who'd wielded it, and Elyana's pet theory that the summoner and the sorcerer's efforts might be related. Illidian then relayed tales he'd heard of other killing sprees within the River Kingdoms and condescendingly suggested that because humans frequently murdered each other, there need not be any connection whatsoever.

  Lisette would have had a hard time arguing his point, but she couldn't help wondering if Elyana was on to something. Almost she shook her head. She really shouldn't have gotten involved in this one. What was it Elyana had said just a few hours ago? Ensuring that you chose the ground of your battle? Lisette hadn't done a very fine job of that.

  Lisette crept back to her bedroll as she sensed them finishing up. Karag was asleep near the fire embers, and she slipped out of the darkness to lie beside him on her own bedroll.

  Karag had always been a little touchy when it came to dwarven matters, but Lisette didn't quite understand what had set him off this week. He hadn't really minded at all when she'd told him they were going to target Drelm—it was only over dinner last night that he'd started acting strange.

  She was just closing her eyes when she heard his voice.