Legends of Windemere: 03 - Family of the Tri-Rune

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “What if they laugh at the display?”

  “They won’t.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I’ve never heard a krypter laugh.”

  The half-elven caster fights back the urge to smack the mercenary leader for the pun. Through gritted teeth she hisses, “You know what I meant.”

  “I brought a small squad of capable warriors for a reason. They are hungry for a battle and the krypters always deliver,” Tzefira casually mentions, gesturing toward the mercenaries, who grin at her words. “You shouldn’t worry, Nyx. We know magic works very well against them, but I only had one caster under my command. We lost him a week ago to an ingenious goblin ambush involving dire boars. He wasn’t very powerful beyond enhancement and wind magic, but he was a brave, wise man. His presence has been sorely missed.”

  “They have priests and casters in the city,” Nyx points out, her voice full of suspicion and worry.

  “The priests and casters of Hero’s Gate refuse to leave the city,” the mercenary bitterly responds. She spits in the direction of the city, making no attempt to hide her disgust at the resident casters. “They feel it’s in their best interest to protect the citizens from attacks instead of going on the offensive. It’s probably for the best since none of them have the stomach for true battle. They are nothing like those of us who have seen the chaos of the battlefield and have survived to enjoy the nightmares.”

  “You’re a very dark and disturbing woman,” Nyx says before she can stop herself.

  Tzefira glares at the half-elf, her grip tightening on her war staff. “Sacrifice what I have and we’ll see how happy and sane you are, child.”

  Nyx is about to argue, but her mouth is suddenly covered by Tzefira’s hand. The mercenary holds up her war staff to signal her men to stop moving and remain quiet. She beckons for Luke and Sari to come to the head of the group, the pair drawing their weapons as they move without a sound. The mercenaries let them pass and remain at ease, but their eyes constantly scan the area for danger.

  Tzefira leads the three adventurers away from the group, looking back to see Conrad climbing into a tree with a black longbow strapped to his back. In tense silence, they carefully weave their way through the thick forest until they reach a dark river. The mighty trees of the forest have stopped, giving way to the watery earth of a swamp. Luke is instantly reminded of where the Caster Swamp and Visindor Forest meet, but the air smells more like that of a flooded cemetery than a natural swamp. He looks at Nyx, touching his nose with the tip of his saber, and she nods her head in agreement.

  “You smell rotten flesh too?” Sari asks, gently placing her lips against Luke’s ear.

  All he can manage is an awkward nod and a comforting pat on the gypsy’s arm with his saber. His eyes fall to the stiletto clutched in her left hand, which bears a striking resemblance to the one he had lost in his first encounter with Kalam. Sari notices him staring at the weapon and experimentally waves it in front of his face. He shows her his sabers, but she only shrugs and gives him a playful smirk. Luke is about to talk when Tzefira startles him with a flick on the ear and points ahead.

  Looking across the river, the young adventurers see the remains of a herd of elk that have been brutally torn apart. Even from far away, they can hear bones crunching and flesh tearing before they pinpoint the source of the noise. Nine muscular creatures are moving among the slaughtered elk, their faces pressed to the blood-soaked ground. Their glossy skin is a swirling mixture of deep black and bloody red. One of the creature rises from its hunched position to stand at its full eight-foot height. It angrily hisses at the sky and shows off several rows of sharp teeth. The standing krypter scratches at its side with long claws, sending scraps of twitching skin to the ground. The adventurers hold their breath and freeze when its head turns toward them, staring in their direction with an eyeless face. It sniffs at the stale air before hunkering down for another mouthful of elk.

  Tzefira pulls Nyx close, so she can whisper, “Hit them hard and fast. We need a first strike.”

  Nyx swallows the lump in her throat and focuses on the ravenous creatures across the wide river. The longer she stares at them, the more nauseated she feels. It is as if the very sight of them is a testament to her violated aura. She waves for her allies to take a few steps away before her hands burst with hot water behind her back. Nyx patiently waits for several minutes until four of the krypters gather close to each other, making them a perfect target for her boiling water spell. Her hands rise above her head before the krypters take notice and threateningly roar in surprise. With a high-pitched scream, Nyx launches a large wave of steaming water over the river.

  All of the krypters bravely gather in front of the incoming spell and rise to their full height as if to jump. Instead, they hold out their hands and let the magical attack wash over them. Instead of tearing them apart, the water becomes a whirling pillar that shreds the surrounding tree branches as it rises to the clouds. With a horrifying screech, the krypters open their mouths and inhale Nyx’s spell until their bellies bloat and throb. A coating of blue fire covers their sharp claws and icy horns sprout from their heads as they sway on their feet in ecstasy.

  “Run!” Tzefira shouts. She grabs Nyx by the arm and drags the stunned half-elf into the woods. She hears Luke and Sari running behind them as the krypters shatter the silence with trilling screams. Risking a quick glance, Tzefira sees the krypters leap over the river and move faster than she has ever seen them move before.

  “We aren’t going to outrun them!” Luke yells, skidding to a stop and turning to face the monsters. He waves Sari ahead as the first of the krypters rushes into view and hurtles toward him. Luke spins to the side at the last second, his sabers cleanly slicing the krypter’s head off. The momentum helps him start a savage kick to another krypter that is bursting through the bushes. He can feel jagged teeth and rotten flesh give way beneath his boot along with a jolt of pain up his leg. The monster collapses, giving Luke time to run after his friends, who are no longer in view.

  Tzefira and Nyx are within sight of the warriors when a chorus of screams cuts through the air. They can see four of the magic-infused krypters tearing into the fifteen warriors beyond the nearby trees. Three of the monsters are hacked and stabbed to death, but the fourth krypter rips the heart out of the final warrior before the dwarf can swing his blood-drenched axe. The creature sniffs the air, catching Nyx’s scent and turning toward her. Tzefira is setting her war staff to meet the monster’s charge when two arrows streak from the trees, embedding themselves in the krypter’s head. It stumbles and collapses at the mercenary’s feet before four more arrows strike along its back.

  “Being thorough, Conrad?” she asks as the calico drops from the trees and draws his rapier.

  “You would have done the same,” he answers with a forced grin. Conrad whirls around at the sound of movement and sees Sari running out from behind a tree with a krypter on her heels. She sprints toward him, blindly hurling a dagger over her shoulder to strike the krypter in the arm. The furious creature pounces at her as she dives and skids along the ground, leaving an opening for Conrad to fluidly stab the krypter through the face.

  “This hunt didn’t go as planned, but it could have been worse,” Conrad states as he helps Sari to her feet.

  “Never say that,” Sari groans, turning toward the sound of an approaching runner.

  “Don’t stop running!” Luke screams as he sprints past them.

  The ground shakes as a towering krypter pushes through the trees and reaches down to grab one of the dead krypters. It viciously bites off the top half of the corpse and swallows. With a disturbing cackle, the monster tosses the rest of the body into its mouth. The krypter grows several more feet as it eats the next body, ignoring the retreating warriors until it is done devouring the remaining corpses. With a deafening roar, the giant undead creature lumbers after the warriors. The monster moves at a slow walk, but its long strides help it close the distance between
it and its prey.

  “Keep running and I’ll slow it down,” Tzefira orders the others. She shoves Nyx ahead and turns around, her war staff clenched in both hands. The elven warrior lifts the staff over her head and slams one of its bladed ends into the ground. A rumbling rises from the earth as a crack races along the ground, growing wider as it moves toward the krypter. By the time it reaches the monster, the crack has grown wide enough to swallow the screaming giant.

  Tzefira keeps her eye on the chasm, expecting the monster to clamber out at any moment. A noise behind her makes the warrior whirl around and swings her war staff. She stops the attack an inch from Nyx’s neck and hoists her weapon on her shoulder. The half-elf is pale and shaking, her violet eyes locked on the dark chasm. Tzefira notices a crossbow gripped in the caster’s hand, but there is no bolt on the cocked weapon. The weapon rattles against Nyx’s thigh as she attempts to lift it and prepare to fire as soon as she sees a target.

  “How do you feel?” the mercenary asks, her voice surprisingly kind.

  Nyx looks at Tzefira as if she is seeing her for the first time. With a lot of effort, the caster manages to mutter, “Violated.”

  “Then I think it’s time we got you back to camp,” Tzefira says, placing a comforting arm around Nyx’s shoulder. “We need to figure out what happened here and rethink our tactics. This hunt taught us more than we could have imagined about the krypters.”

  A screeching roar rises from beneath the two women as the krypter erupts from the ground. Tzefira is thrown several feet before rolling to her knees while Nyx crashes against a solid oak. They can see Luke, Sari, and Conrad running to help, but the krypter uproots a tree and hurls it at them. All three dive out of the way and scramble for cover as the krypter belches a plume of black fire across the ground. Tzefira braces her war staff under her arm as she runs up a fallen tree that is suspended by its sturdy neighbors. She is about to leap at the krypter when the creature’s massive hand shatters the tree, sending the warrior crashing to the ground. The monster covers its body in rolling, black flames as it reaches down to grab the stunned warrior.

  Tzefira’s ringing ears barely make out a wordless shout that gets the krypter’s attention, making its fiery hand stop inches from her body. She sees Nyx weakly waving her crossbow and her body is covered in red flames to attract the monster. Two of its claws lance out at the half-elf to pierce her shoulders and cause her to scream in pain. Her fire is sucked into the claws as she uses all of her remaining strength to lift her crossbow and fire at the krypter. An emerald bolt of magic launches off the weapon, striking the krypter in the chest and barreling through its glossy flesh. The bolt soars into the sky and explodes as the krypter dissolves into a black and red mist. A cleansing breeze gathers the mist and carries it above the clouds where only Nyx can sense it harmlessly disperse. With a grin, Nyx’s eyes roll back and she collapses into someone’s arms.

  *****

  “Is Nyxie going to be okay?” Sari asks, nearly tackling Tzefira when the mercenary steps out of the tent. Tzefira swiftly steps around the gypsy and hands a scroll to Conrad, who is patiently sitting on a crate.

  “Take this to Timoran Wrath,” she orders him with a slightly cracking voice. “You may spend the night in the taverns for saving my life.”

  “Don’t make a big deal of it. I only wanted your defeat to be at my hands,” Conrad claims with a toothy grin.

  Tzefira watches the calico walk away, his tail happily swishing through the air, before she turns her attention to Sari. “Nyx will be fine. Our healers cleaned her wounds and eased her sleep with herbs. I don’t know what spell she cast back there, but it solidified the corruptive aura we found in her wounds. It was difficult pulling the aura crystals out and there might be some remaining slivers inside her, but Nyx’s aura will purge those within a few hours. I’ll send her back to Hero’s Gate tomorrow morning. From now on, it would be best for Nyx to stay within the city walls unless she is traveling with a special escort.”

  “That’s what you want Timoran for,” Luke says from his post next to the tent’s entrance. “I don’t see why you need him when you have me. Nyx and I have been protecting each other for a long time.”

  “You’re a talented warrior and you’re fast on your feet, Luke, but Timoran is a better choice,” Tzefira insists, sighing at the pained expression on the young warrior’s face. “Listen, Luke. With Nyx unable to use her magic against the krypters, I need someone who is able to physically carry her and continue fighting at full strength. Timoran has proven that he can protect a weakened ally without losing any of his prowess. In all honesty, I think the krypters are terrified of him. They are very instinctive creatures and they can sense Timoran’s primal savagery. His presence gives Nyx an edge when she enters the forest against my orders.”

  “You should have brought Timoran along with us,” Sari casually mentions.

  “I would have if I knew Nyx’s magic would enhance the krypters,” Tzefira admits, scratching at her scarred face.

  “Do we know why that happened?” Luke asks. He flicks a rock at a nearby mercenary and nods his head toward Tzefira. The leather-armored man stares at him for a few seconds, but eventually figures out what Luke is hinting at and enters the large tent. He quickly returns with the pot of ointment and hands it to Tzefira.

  “Thank you, Samuel,” she says. She smears the thick ointment on her face and neck, letting her hand slip under her white shirt to get at her aching shoulder. “I have an idea, but I don’t know enough about magic to be sure. Nyx’s aura was used to create the krypters, so they are able to grow stronger by absorbing her spells. It’s like drinking well-aged ale straight from a tapped keg instead of a mug. You get a very big hit in a short amount of time and you crave more, which is probably why that large krypter ate the other ones. I hate to say it, but Nyx has become a liability. I should have never had her brought here.” Tzefira pauses and looks back at the tent where Nyx is sleeping. “Then again, there’s that spell she cast at the end of the fight. I’d feel better about bringing her here if she can keep doing that spell.”

  Sari takes a seat next to Luke, who immediately gets to his feet. The gypsy glares at him, but he is still looking at Tzefira with a thoughtful look on his face. A fear spell is on the tip of Sari’s tongue when she stops herself from lashing out. Instead, a few tears roll down her cheeks, which she quickly wipes away with a skillful toss of her blue hair. She notices Tzefira curiously watching her before the mercenary rolls her eye in exasperation.

  “That wasn’t a spell,” Luke states, unaware of Sari’s brewing anger. “Nyx’s crossbow can undo magic, but it costs her access to her aura for a little bit of time. She tries not to use it, but if she shouldn’t be using her magic against the krypters then the side-effect doesn’t really matter.”

  “True, but I will let her make that decision,” Tzefira says before turning to Sari. “I think you should return to Hero’s Gate and secure a room. We have little space in this camp and I’d feel better knowing you two are in the walled city. I’ll send Luke back to you once we’ve finished our discussion.”

  “You can keep him for all I care,” the gypsy mutters under her breath. She jumps to her feet and storms off, purposely shoving Luke out of her way. He is about to yell at her when a curved dagger thuds into the ground at his feet.

  With a smile, Tzefira whispers, “I assume you’ve spent more time with swords than women.”

  “Yes, but that’s not the issue here,” Luke admits, picking up Sari’s dagger. “I have a fiancée and . . . let’s just say it’s complicated and involves Bor’daruk. I’m getting tired of explaining it to people.”

  “Thank you for not boring me with your problems,” Tzefira bluntly says. She walks toward her tent, beckoning Luke to follow. “I want to discuss an idea I have for you. It won’t be glamorous or safe, but you don’t strike me as the type who enjoys safe missions. Am I right?”

  Luke chuckles as he enters the tent and sees Nyx asleep on a cot in
the corner. Her upper body is heavily bandaged with thicker layers around her shoulders. Luke notices that her breathing is a little ragged, but she is able to shift in her sleep without showing signs of pain or discomfort. He watches as Tzefira takes Nyx’s torn shirt off a support beam and sits at the table, pulling out a glowing needle from her back pocket. The needle passes through the material, creating a thread that perfectly matches the shirt’s color.

  “I never dreamed I’d have to learn to sew after I became a mercenary, but it saves money on buying new clothes,” she states after a few minutes of silence. “Now, take a seat and tell me how good you are at tracking. I’ve learned that just because a person is a forest tracker, it doesn’t mean they can track.”

  “That’s a very hard skill to explain,” Luke calmly replies, sitting with his legs crossed on a large pillow. “I can track deer, bear, and most other non-monstrous animals of the forest and plains. I have some experience tracking zombies and goblins. If you’re asking if I can track a krypter then I can’t give you a true answer. I would have to study them in the wild for a day or two to get an idea of how they think and move. It’s rather time-consuming and that’s if I do it alone, which puts me in a lot of danger.”

  “What about simply following a trail and looking for signs of recent passage?” she asks, nodding her head in thought. She pricks her finger with the needle and angrily sucks on the injured digit. “I was thinking about using you as a scout for our hunting parties. Conrad does that now, but I would prefer to use him as a sniper. I would even consider sending you two out alone, so you can lead krypters into his firing range. That’s if you’re comfortable with working alongside a traitorous bastard like Conrad.”

  “I think we’d make a good team,” Luke replies with a charming smile. “I’ve never done scouting before, but I was taught a few lessons at Hamilton Military Academy. It was nothing official. One of the instructors felt that I would benefit from learning the basic points of scouting because of my forest tracker skills.”