The Dark Frontier

A Moonsea Adventure

Chapter 1

Test of Faith

Melvaunt, Mirtul 16

The Hall of Laughter echoed with the psalms of the faithful, their song running beneath every thought and action within its hallowed walls. Here the stink of the foundries gave way to wafting incense, and initiates moved hither and yon in robes unsullied by the ever-present drift of coal-dust and ash that lay heavy on the city outside the temple.
This was the proud bastion of Bane Himself, and so the gathered Atjets and Manakjas of His Hand stood a bit taller, kept just a bit more reverent a stance as the Slon entered the room, preceded and trailed by his close-faced Myrkulite monks. The assembled hopefuls waited, obeisant, as the Slon settled himself, attended by his own priests, who saw to it that he sat in comfort above them all before dismissing the monks and giving the delegates leave to look up and rise from their knees.
"Be silent; the Voice of the Gods speaks," two Banite intoned in perfect synchronicity, their voices making some of the delegates start.
Krel stood reverently with the other Talontar arranged around him. The journey from Thentia had been long, but the few steps before him now seemed all the harder. He had grown up around the Talontar, lived with them, studied with them, become a man under their guidance. They were his family and now he would leave them to stand before all the church to claim to be one of the elite Chosen. The life which he knew was going to forever change in the next few moments and taking those next few steps seemed almost an impossible task. Krel knew that he could not falter now. The path of his life was laid out before him, a path chosen by Talona herself, all that Krel needed to do was place his feet before him and follow the path of his destiny. Thoughts focused on his Goddess, on Her support and Her strength. Krel walked with confidence to stand before the Slon.
"You have come far to bring these initiates before me," the Slon spoke into the heavy silence. "The journey is full of danger, but you have come. Speakers for the Hand, bring your aspirant Chosen before me."
When all who would come forward had done so, the Slon leaned forward, the candles casting strange, moving shadows on his face. "I have thought upon this matter, and prayed, and the ancient texts, I have studied them. Then the Gods sent me a sign.
"Ve have lost von of Loviatar's Chosen to the Great Forest, though she vas no stranger to var; she vas a hero of the Crusades, come home vith honor. Now, von of the Families sends a company of soldiers to vhere she has gone. There is not even a trail to this place, and the Forest is full of danger; the keep that is their goal, it is said to be the home of black magic.
"If you vould prove you are the Chosen of the Gods, you vill go vith these soldiers. Find the Chosen Manakja, who is the Lady Tjesnitjérs of that place, and bring victory to the company vhich goes vith you. Spread the Holy Vords and return, and ve vill know you as Chosen."

Children darted about underfoot and horses stamped and blew as the warriors gathered, checking their equipment and buying what trinkets of civilization they might bear with them from the hawkers who had converged on them, eyes bright with single-minded purpose. The Nanther standard was visible here and there, a sprinkling of Family soldiers amid a sea of freeswords, urging them to secure their equipment and mount up.
Thaurlann tightened his horse's saddle, patting the beast's neck for comfort. The brown horse, speckled with white spots, stood somewhat short by warhorse standards.
"Are you as excited as I am, Lightning?" Thaurlann asked the horse quietly. Around him, sellswords who had signed on with him milled, some shooting suspicious stares at him. "Our first true Holy Quest. I suppose I should say a prayer before we go." He dropped to his knees, his armor clanging on the hard ground and the reverberations arcing through his entire body. He grunted slightly in pain, then clasped his gloved fingers together.
"Oh, mighty Bane," he mumbled to himself, "I know that I am not one of your Chosen servants, but if you do have some place for me in your divine plan, I ask that you give me the chance to prove myself on this Quest and gain your favor." After a moment, Thaurlann opened his eyes, darting them back and forth as if expecting an immediate response. His prayer had drawn no attention, or at least no more than his blond hair and heavy armor had. He swiftly mounted his horse and prepared to journey forth.

Krel idly stroked the flank of his horse, a small brown mare, given to him by his mentor Ivok at the beginning of the journey from Thentia. His thoughts continued to churn around the task laid before him by the Slon. Charged with finding a missing Chosen, commanded to bring victory to the warriors who traveled with him, and represent the Church of Talona during this mission. Krel's throat went dry as a wave of anxiety flooded his mind. With a steadying breath and a silent word of prayer, Krel pushed the doubts aside. Talona would provide him a way, he just had to be strong enough and faithful enough to receive Her instructions.
His horse ready, Krel turned one last time to look upon the assembled Talontar. His bretheren who had come to see him off on his journey and would be returning to Thentia. Their prayers would be with him, their hopes for his success, for his return to them at the conclusion of his mission. They would be ever vigilant, petitioning Talona on his behalf, until he was safely returned to them. Krel's gaze sought out the eldest of the group, his mentor Ivok. Ivok had not been a required member of this deligation, but had come to see Krel accept the charge of the Slon, to take the first steps of his journey. Krel bowed low in respect to the elder Talontar and then turned to mount his horse. They had said their good byes in private, knowing that the day would not allow time for such sentiments. Krel glanced back one last time to see the proud gaze of the man he considered his father, saying a silent prayer to Talona that he would serve Her well and make Ivok proud, he nudged his horse forward to join the others as they assembled to leave.

Children cheered and waved to the soldiers and priests as the procession filed out the city gates, following the peshka miner who would lead them to the outpost. They followed the Phlan Path, the trade road that would make the first leg of their trip quick and relatively safe. Farmland spread out around the road and the city, crowding the walls, and farmers paused in their labors to watch the company wend its way into the misty wilds, no doubt wondering why they were headed west rather than east, to where the Crusade was being fought in the distant Galena Mountains.

With many of the soldiers on foot, the pace was slow, but no brigands or foul monsters dared attack so large and well-armed a group, and they reached the spot where they would leave the road for the wilderness without event. Captain Garsha, a soldier of the Nanther Family, signaled for them to make camp as night fell. Thaurlann was just starting to dismount when he saw the captain coming towards him.
"You there," the captain said, approaching a knot of men. "Scout out the land around us, and set vatch points. Atjets, if you vill go vith them, and keep them safe from any spirits." Thaurlann straightened up in his saddle as he heard the command, and nodded with a slight grin. He followed the captain with his eyes, but when he heard the mention of `spirits,' the grin faded slightly. Captain Garsha turned away without waiting for comment, walking over to speak with the clump of weary and saddle-sore priests.
As the captain turned away, Thaurlann looked to the nearby soldiers and Atjets and said, "Well, gentleman, duty calls us!" The handful of men Captain Garsha had singled out grumbled, shooting him the suspicious stares he'd come to recognize as an obvious foreigner. One day their stares would be of a different nature.
Krel remained saddled for a moment as the soldiers began following their orders. He had been lost in his own thoughts through out the first leg of the journey, paying little attention to the company walking alongside him, spending his time reviewing the quest bestowed upon him. Feelings of being overwhelmed continued to intrude on his thoughts, but he pushed them away as quickly as they came. Krel would find his way through this challenge, perhaps with the help of these men. Now he took a moment to survey his comrades, those men who might be used by the Gods to aid him in his quest.
Krel spotted the captain walking away and dismounted. Not being a skilled rider, the journey had taken it's toll on Krel's backside. However, being accustomed to constant pain, the young Talontar willed himself to show no signs of discomfort and dismounted smoothly. Weary legs threatened to betray his calm front, but Krel held steady as he approached the captain. He nodded his head in deference to the military leader of the company. "Captain," pausing, suddenly lost on how to begin with the officer, "might I be of assistance?"
Captain Garsha looked him over, his eyes flicking toward the other Talontar. It was a version of the look the soldiers had been giving all the Atjets during their trek; curiosity as to what the clergy was doing traveling to some tiny outpost, perhaps. "Atjets, if you vould, go vith those men," the Captain said, gesturing towards a group dropping their packs and handing their mounts over to others. "May Talona vatch over them through you."

The failing light aided only by the torches the freeswords brought, it was Thaurlann, riding ahead of the others, who spotted something in the road not far from where they were camped. It looked to be a man, but so large a man that it was nearly a giant; it lay facedown in the middle of the road, and arrows poked from its back.
Thaurlann slowed his horse to a stop, raising his right hand in a motion for others to do the same. He dismounted swiftly and walked forward at a brisk pace. "Careful," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the body. "The attacker might still be nearby."
Krel took as quick breath as he readied his crossbow, a whispered "Talona protect us" escaped his lips as he looked about at the area around the road. The freeswords drew in close to him, staring into the darkness as though expecting a horde of monsters to jump out at them.
"Months now, vith the bandits!" one of them muttered, looking around uneasily.
"I heard that whole caravans get killed and put into cook-pots by busbusi," another laughed, and was punched in the shoulder by the first. "And two days ago, von of the traders told me a dragon flew right over his head! I think maybe he vas not the only von to drink too much vodka, eh? Ha!"
"Vatch your mouth! A leshy might hear you making fun and get angry!"
The second freesword hunched, eyes darting among the trees. "I did not make fun of the leshy," he growled.
Keeping pace with those around him, Krel found himself reciting a ward against evil. "Holy Talona, protect your servants..." The familiar prayer give him strength even as his sweaty palms and beating heart sapped it away.
Thaurlann approached the body and tilted his head sideways as he tried to ascertain the origin of the body, and, more importantly, the nature of the attack. Was it senseless murder or self-defense?
This close, it was apparent that the fallen thing wasn't human. Taller and deeper through the chest than a man, it also had long ears which sprouted through it's thick man of hair - and its arms, long and shaggy, ended in claw-tipped paws no human could claim. Blood soaked the dirty leather armor around the two arrows embedded in it's back, but apart from those there were no weapons on or near the thing.
"A busbus!" One of the men hissed, and cursed.
Something moved under the creature, and the freeswords drew back, taking the light with them. Krel cursed silently as the light faded into darkness. The young Talontar didn't blame the men; a part of him longed to retreat with them. Thaurlann stood his ground, but drew his sword and brought his shield around defensively. He tried to make out the creature in the quickly receding light, not giving up hope that whatever might be still alive under this beast had been attacked by it, not using it as cover to launch an ambush. Especially when the dense forest would make much better cover for an ambush, Thaurlann mused. His grip on the sword handle tightened, and he took one cautious step back.
Krel considered asking Talona for light - certainly She would not deny his need - but decided it best to provide for himself. Steeling his nerve, Krel turned slightly and pointed to the nearest man holding a torch. His voice quiet and far more steady than he felt, "The torch, give it to me." The man immediately handed it over, grasping his spear with both white-knuckled hands. In the flickering light, Krel could make out a sack beneath the beast, something within it pushing against the worn leather. As Krel brought the light back closer, Thaurlann's eyes narrowed in on the movement.
"Something's trapped under there!" he shouted. Lowering his sword, but keeping it tightly gripped, Thaurlann moved forward and attempted to pull the sack out from under the beast. Krel watched closely, crossbow held ready in case he had to drop the torch and fire the weapon. Whispered prayers of protection continued to flow from his lips.
The sack was unbelievably heavy, and whatever was inside it clinked like metal. Thaurlann was trying to find a better grip when an arrow rebounded from his armor.
The soldiers yelled, drawing around the Atjets with wild eyes and spears ready, torches abandoned to lie in the road. Their cries made Thaurlann's unattended horse flatten its ears and back up, snorting. Thaurlann himself jerked back from the creature as it rolled to it's feet and grabbed for his legs, earning it several blows. The thing's hideous face was covered with hair, and when it screamed he could see it's teeth were sharp as those that belonged in a dog's mouth.
"A strezyga!" one of the men shouted, dashing around the bulging sack the creature had been lying on. His voice was high and strained. "Atjets, protect us!"
"Vanka, does it look like a child? It is a Forest-Thing!" another yelled, shoving the Atjets behind him and brandishing his spear at the beast. "Get back, Thing! Ve have iron!" It's eyes gleamed orange in the firelight, flicking between them. Trying to keep from both Thaurlann and the first soldier, it found itself flanked by the third, and roared as the spears struck home. The sound was horribly near-human.
Krel tossed his torch aside and grabbed the heavily embroidered cameo at his throat. Hearing the cries of the faithful, the priest's chant took on a harder edge, his voice grew in strength as he threw his faith behind the words. "Talona!" Every scar on Krel's body tingled as the slightest portion of Talona's power brushed against him. "Defend us, strengthen our arms, guide our strikes." The Talontar traced several symbols of warding in the air as his scars burned anew with the building power. A gasp escaped him as the power surrounded the faithful.
Thaurlann heard the confused cacophony behind him as he traded attacks with the creature. Part of him pondered where the arrow had come from, but it simply wasn't strong enough to concentrate on anything other than the threat right in front of him.
"Stand your ground, men!" Thaurlann shouted. "Whatever its name, we can defeat any evil sent against us!" Whether due to his words or those of the Atjets, the men were heartened, crowding in on the thing with shouts of encouragement. Trying to lock eyes with the creature, Thaurlann said, "There is no escape, evil one! Prepare for justice to be served!"
With his blessing completed, Krel raised his crossbow, looking quickly for any signs of the archer before turning his fire on the creature. The darkness beyond the firelight divulged no secrets - but apparently the archer was aware of his regard. An arrow cracked into his leg with the sickening sound of bone breaking, and Krel swore as his leg collapsed under him, thinking that he perhaps should have remained in the city. The soldier who had stood before him spun about in horror, rushing to his side.
Krel searched for an option. Had he seen where the shot came from? Caught a glimpse of the arrow as it entered the light? He wasn't sure, and wondered if he would be torn to shreds before the next arrow killed him. Catching his breath, he forced himself to focus on the cameo, the purple cloth and golden tears that were the divine symbols of his Goddess. Touching his crossbow bolt, he called out once again for aid. "Talona, cast out the darkness, reveal our enemies, show us the vay."
The bolt's hue changed as its core seemed to catch fire. A pale light burst out of it, banishing the shadows around him.
Thaurlann realized that talking was doing nothing. Summoning a primal growl, he raised his arms upwards in a grand gesture, as if the next blow he landed might take the creature's head. The thing's face crumpled in a snarl full of snaggly teeth, but it's eyes darted about, judging it's chances. With a final feint to push the warriors back, it grabbed up its sack and ran jingling into the darkness. The man still standing with Thaurlann whooped and shook his spear at the night. Thaurlann's mouth turned slightly upward as the first creature fled, but he quickly resumed a grim tone when he heard the twang of bowstrings.
Another arrow whicked over Krel's head, and the Atjets returned fire. His shot disappeared into the trees, lighting in a brief flash another of the creatures, it's eyes huge with astonishment. Thaurlann locked his focus on the creature. Another primal growl escaped his lips. His sword held aloft, he charged into the woods towards the last spot he had seen it.
Krel lowered his crossbow. A wave of pain and exhaustion passed over him as he spoke softly. "Talona be praised for her aid and mercy." He would offer many more prayers of thanks soon, but now one of the faithful needed his attention.

A flash of wide, firelit eyes was all Thaurlann could see in the darkness as he stumbled through the undergrowth, the light of the torches fading around him. Then something snagged his foot and he fell. His knee gave a wet crack as something smashed into it, and the creature scraped and snapped along his armor, seeking his flesh. Hearing the scuffle, the man who had stood with him had turned to follow him into the dark, but the first creature charged back into the dim circle of light. "The busbus!" the man yelled, and his comrade left Krel to aid him.
Krel looked at his leg briefly. He should remove the arrow and set the bone, but he didn't know how badly the downed freesword was injured. Krel looked up at the man who had stood near him. "Our injured comrade, help me to him."
"I cannot help you now, Atjets!" the man called back, the two freeswords holding the creature at bay with his spear. Grinding his teeth against the pain, Krel hobbled as best he could to the unconscious man. The healer sat awkwardly next to the injured soldier and quickly checked his injuries as he worked to stabilize the man so that he could be moved back to the camp. "Talona, protect your servant and guide my hands." Working with quick efficiency, he cut away a strip of cloth to stop the bleeding, then repeated the act to bind his own leg around the protruding arrow.

Thaurlann could feel the creature scraping at him, trying to find a weak spot. <"Fool!"> he muttered to himself in his native tongue. He heard the cries of the soldiers back in the torchlight and berated himself again. <"Idiot! You've left the wounded unprotected!"> He stabbed blindly in front of him, hoping to keep the creature back if not outright impale it.
His blade hit nothing, but the hilt of his sword connected with a solid crack. The thing screamed, high and pained. "Evil man! It hurts! Evil, bad man!" It's voice was horrible, thick and clotty with the snarl of an animal in it, yet... Thaurlann was almost sure it was female. With a final swipe at him it moved off; he could hear it stumbling slowly through the underbrush.
"Jaga kills you!" the one held at bay by the soldiers howled, froth flying from its lips as it drove its claws into one of the men. The soldier stiffened and dropped as the other had, his face a rictus mask gazing up at the inky sky as the last remaining soldier drove the thing back. "Iron! Ve vill stab you vith iron!" he yelled, jabbing his spear at it, but with only one man remaining between it and its victims, it wasn't about to abandon the fight.
Thaurlann gingerly took a step backwards on his injured leg - the pain wasn't intense, not yet, but it felt funny, like something was out of place. His knee wobbled, sliding in loose, nauseating threat. These creatures are easily startled, but she'll be back, he thought. He started back towards the torchlight, slowly feeling his way along the ground, using his sword hand to feel along the trees, and constantly checking for signs of the other creature. His knee refused to hold his weight, and he was reduced to a hopping shuffle, but by using the trees and bushes for leverage he was able to increase his pace. Maybe he wouldn't be too late.

Krel cursed his own stupidity, his anger flaring at his own incompetence. He had been certain that the creatures had fled, but they renewed their attack and another of the men was down. His anger grew even stronger as the single brave soldier faced the creature alone. These men trusted the gods to protect them, trusted Krel to protect them, but now they lay mangled at the feet of this creature.
On his knees, Krel raised his hands to the heavens, his voice starting low and building as the prayer grew. The burn scars which covered his body burned anew with every word. Fever raged within him as his goddess' touch coursed through him. "Talona, strike this beast vhich attacks your faithful, vhich attacks your atjets. Strike it down as it strikes your devoted. Take it's life as it takes your faithful. Talona! Strike! It! Down!" He clenched his teeth against the rising power and thrust his hand out, palm extended toward the creature. As the power of Talona lashed out against the creature, he clenched his fist, as if surrounding the creature's heart, and twisted violently.
A spray of blood exploded from it's lips, and it staggered back clutching at it's chest, it's face twisted and jaw open in soundless agony. Turning, it lurched off into the bushes. Krel collapsed to his hands and knees, sweat rolling down his body. His arms quivered as every muscle ached from the strain of Talona's touch.
Thaurlann's eyes widened as he saw the creature's face writhe under the effects of some supernatural power, obviously directed by the holy man. "Bane be praised," he whispered. He saw the other soldier coming forward to help him, but shook his head and waved the soldier away. "Stay with the wounded. The other one is still out there." He ignored the part of his mind that told him he was one of the wounded. The man looked surprised, but nodded, turning to glare into the darkness with his spear readied.
Inhaling deeply, Thaurlann whistled in the direction of his steed. "Come, Lightning, we're not letting it get away this time!" The horse snorted, ears flicking back and forth; it didn't seem enthused by the idea of getting any closer to the thing that staggered away, coughing brokenly. Still, its training was sound; at another insistent whistle, it trotted forward, stepping over the downed men to stand by his side. "Move, you stupid beast!" the man guarding the fallen shouted as it brushed him, raising his hand to smack the horse, then thinking better of it.

Krel took several deep breaths as he tried to tried to ward off the impact of his prayer. Every inch of his skin felt as if on fire, as if the burning plague was raging through his body once again. The symptoms of the disease which had left him badly scarred and nearly killed him as a child were an overwhelming reminder that he was alive only through Talona's grace.
"Talona, and her Master, Bane, be praised for their mercy." Krel's hand shook slightly as he reloaded his crossbow. He glanced around the circle of light to see if any of the creatures remained and then crawled carefully to the side of the injured freesword. He scanned the area again quickly, his crossbow ready, and then began bandaging the wounds of the mauled soldier. His voice soft, he continued to praise the gods and curse his own stupidity.
His work was neat and effective. The man under his hands stirred, then rolled over, lurching to his feet with humble thanks to the Atjets. Krel let out a sigh as the injured soldier rose to his feet. They had been beaten up pretty badly, but none of them had died. Talona had truly been merciful. With crossbow in hand, Krel scanned the area once again, reciting prayers of protection and thanks while he silently hoped that the ambush was over and they would get a chance to retreat back to the camp.

Seeing the monster disappear into the darkness, Thaurlann hurriedly attempted to swing into the saddle. Pain blazed up his leg, blackening his vision, but somehow he managed to drag himself into a sidesaddle position - his leg absolutely refused to rise far enough for a proper mount. He spurred Lightning after the creature, homing in on the sounds in the brush even as the freesword called after him, "No, you fool! Do not follow it into the Forest! It vill steal you avay!"
Krel added his own silent curse on the stupid foreigner. They had barely managed to drive the creatures off, they were in no shape to go into the darkness after them. Still, the man showed great bravery, or foolishness, he wasn't sure which.
Thaurlann couldn't help but wonder if he was being a bit too headstrong. Was this really the way of the knight? To chase down a fleeing opponent while leaving his comrades defenseless against further attack? No! This is a creature of evil! It is devious, and will certainly attack again unless defeated once and for all! Besides, the gods' Chosen is powerful enough to protect the others! On the other hand, it would serve no one if he ended up lost in the dark. He dropped his shield to the ground and fumbled into the nearest saddlebag, struggling to keep his awkward position in the saddle secure.
"Aha!" He pulled out a torch and tinder kit, then pulled Lightning to a halt so he could light the flame. Looking up, he found the monster trying to force it's way through the underbrush just a few feet away. With a single blow he dropped it, its blood staining the ground litter black in the flickering torchlight. It was an ugly beast, but in death it was only pitiful. He paused for a moment to make sure the creature lay motionless, then turned Lightning back towards the others.

Krel kept his crossbow close as he pulled a sharp knife and additional bandages from his healing satchel. Hopefully, the arrow wasn't barbed and he could remove it easily himself. Otherwise, he would need one of the soldiers to help him cut the arrow head from his leg. With another prayer to Talona for luck and skill, he examined the arrow and prepared to remove it from his leg.
He used his knife to cut through the bandages and ease the flesh away from the arrow. The weapon didn't appear to be barbed, so he pulled quickly to remove the weapon from his leg. A gasp of pain escaped his lips and he closed his eyes briefly to ward away the unwanted tears. He quickly rebandaged the wound and wrapped it tightly, so that bleeding was stopped and the broken bone wouldn't move under his weight.
He rose slowly, crossbow in hand, and took a tentative step to test his weight in the injured leg. A jolt of pain raced up his leg, and Krel was tempted to call to Talona for healing. He shook off the thought. He would hobble back to camp injured and partially lame. The pain and his humbling return would remind him of his failure to see the trap before it was sprung. A man of the city, Krel had much to learn of the wilds, and he intended to remember every lesson. Besides, there were others more injured than he, and they deserved Talona's blessing for rushing to defend one of her Chosen.
Krel limped over to stand with the other soldiers. He looked to each one in turn, "My thanks, and those of the goddess, goes to each of you for your bravery. Vhen ve reach the camp, I vill speak highly of you to the captain. Your names I vould ask for so that I may bring your deeds before the goddess in prayer this night."
The men beamed, standing straighter despite their injuries. "I am Vanos, Atjets," the last man to regain his feet announced, thumping his chest with his spear. "These two, they are Galka of Phlan and Bobug." Galka was balding, his eyes peering from the brush of his untamed beard like a boar's; Bobug was shorter than the others, with a defiant stance that suggested he was well-used to defending himself from mockery. The two bowed low to the Atjets, each in turn as the other watched the shadows. Clearly outranking the other two, Vanos spoke again, murmuring, "Atjets, ve should not stay here. There could be more boginki - ve have to tell the Captain."
Krel looked to where Thaurlann sat upon his horse. "Ve return to camp as soon as the foreigner is ready." As they waited, the Talontar silently chastised himself for forgetting the bolt which lay some place in the forest still glowing with Talona's blessed light. Krel thanked Talona for her gift and released the light back into Her divinity. He prayed silently for forgiveness in not using Her blessings more effectively.
As Thaurlann approached, he was amazed to see all the soldiers now standing, albeit some shakily. His eyes widened and he looked down upon the Chosen. "Truly, the gods have blessed you with great power," he said. "With your faith and my steel we should easily bring that second foul creature to justice as well!" He gestured in the general direction of where the archer had been, then paused to see if the others would follow him.
"Ve should not leave the Atjets," Vanos said, bowing his head slightly to show he meant no offense. Still, he stared into the night where the other thing had been, and other two scouts grinned, hefting their spears in newly kindled eagerness. Krel saw that the freeswords had been convinced by the foreigner's words. He considered it himself for a moment, but the pain of his leg and a quick glance around the group reminded him that they were fortunate to be alive.
"Ve hunt another time. It may have friends, and ve do not know the terrain. I do not like the chance of another ambush." He looked up at Thaurlann. "You did not search its body?" He stiffened slightly. "Ve should search the creature quickly and then report back to the captain. He needs to know vhat has happened. Climb down and I vill bandage your leg so that you can ride properly."
The blood in Thaurlann's veins, enflamed by adrenaline, cooled as the other soldier and the Talontar spoke. He lowered his sword arm slightly, and he noticed the splint on the Atjets' leg. "I didn't realize-" he started, then paused. "Apologies, your Holiness, you are right." He bowed his head as much as he comfortably could in his position. After a brief moment he raised his head and looked at the eager scouts. "You two take a torch and go to the creature's body." He pointed back towards where the creature had fallen. "One of you search it while the other one guards, just in case. Also, I left my shield along the way, if you would be so kind as to retrieve it for me."
The men hesitated, but they were no strangers to wartime discipline; they moved off without objection, scooping up the torches as they went. Shadows filled the space the light had left.
Thaurlann turned his attention to the loyal defender. "You will stay and guard the Atjets while he performs his work. Then we will retrieve the creature's sack and begin the journey back to camp." At the mention of the sack, he pointed further down the trail where he had last seen it. Vanos grunted an acknowledgement, stepping around the horse. Thaurlann looked down at himself and the rather ridiculous position he had gotten himself into.
"Also, I, um," he stammered for a moment, then finally regained his composure. "Would you please assist me down from my horse? Many thanks."
"I have faith!" Something burst out of the darkness, dark hair and eyes wild and arms outstretched, clutching a dagger in misshapen hands as it approached.

The Second Cycle