I had to admit that it was really weird not having to dodge tangling vines, avoid poisonous snakes, kill charging boars, hope to avoid spider broods, or wade and jump over waterways and muddy areas. It was almost eerie how quiet it was in the forest. There were also no good ambush spots where I could wait for prey to pass by. Maybe if I spent a bit of time just lurking, I would be able to find a few.
I smiled and slipped off my boots and socks, tied the laces and hung them around my neck to keep them up and out of the way. I dug my toes into the partially soft and loose dirt and relaxed at the familiar feeling. I crept off deeper into the forest and let my instincts take over. It didn't take long for me to find a nice looking ram. He had a female goat next to him and I carefully crept around their grazing position.
I didn't question why there was a ram near the army base and took out my knife to charge it. The ram perked up and looked around. I froze solid and waited for him to stop looking. It took him about thirty seconds before he blew out some air through his nose and started grazing again. I smiled a predatory smile and crept closer. I got into position and waited another short while, then attacked.
The goats were dead before they knew what hit them. I had both of them gutted and hanging from a tree by a rope to let them bleed out in only a couple of minutes. I almost laughed because now I had the perfect bait and I didn't have to go looking for an ambush spot. I had made one and they would come to me. I climbed a nearby tree where I had secured the ropes and hunkered down to wait.
I knew it wouldn't be long, especially with all that fresh blood and organs in a pile. I was tempted to toss them around a little to spread the smell, then decided that I didn't want my own smell to ruin the bait. It didn't take long for the first wolf to show up in the underbrush. He approached cautiously, as if he sensed a trap, and he lowered himself down and crept almost on his belly to the pile of organs.
He very slowly opened his mouth grabbed a bit of intestine with his teeth, then very slowly backed up. The organs sloshed a little as they toppled over and he froze at the sound. His eyes darted around and his ears flicked back and forth, then he almost sighed and backed right up into the underbrush again. I heard him chomping down and chewing on it, then he let out a little bark.
Three more wolves approached and I almost laughed as they did almost the same thing. Each took a tiny piece and slunk away to eat it. I had to assume it was because they knew what it meant that they could be hunted. I didn't attack, though. Being ganged up on by a wolf pack was not my idea of fun. No, I was waiting for something better. I could hear it approaching and waited to see how long the wolves would take before they noticed, too.
One of the wolves let out a yip of surprise and burst out of the underbrush, grabbed one of the livers as he passed the pile, and took off through the trees. What followed was a loud rumbling growl and the other three wolves decided that getting out of there was better than risking death. They took off after their fellow and I stayed there and waited.
The large creature wasn't quiet as it stomped through the forest to come after the fresh kill. Even though the thing was huge, I didn't get a good look at it until it came around the tree and walked into sight.
It was an owlbear.
I had never seen one with my own eyes before. Sandra the CO of the garrison had told me about the large roaming predators in the area, the most dangerous of which were owlbears. They could somehow come out of nowhere to attack wounded people and animals, gobble them up as if it had an empty stomach, then disappear as quickly as it appeared.
I suspected that it had something similar to my vigilance technique and it could sneak around, practically undetected. Its fur was almost the exact shade of the bark on the trees, so until it was practically on top of you, you wouldn't see it. It looked like a nice thick coat of fur, too.
I wonder if Diane could sell an owlbear pelt? I asked myself.
It trudged over to the pile of organs and sniffed it, then it opened its beak like mouth and started shovelling them in. I had a neat idea and took out my knife. I cut the rope holding the ram up in the air and it dropped from above. The owlbear roared and jumped back out of the way as it plummeted to the ground. It looked around and didn't see anything else, except for the female goat that still hung up above it. It moved forward again and smelled the ram's carcass, then it started to tear into it.
I cut the rope holding the female and the owlbear didn't react at all as it fell to the ground beside where it was. I poised to attack with my knife at the ready, and jumped. It didn't react at all as I landed right in front of it and slammed my knife into the back of its skull as hard as I could and then pulled straight down. It let out a roar and stood up, which was exactly what I wanted it to do, and the knife cut through the owlbear's skull, brain, and face.
It swiped at its bisected face with its huge paws, as if trying to get whatever hurt it away to stop the pain, and it slowed down as blood flowed out of the grievous wound. I stayed perfectly still and didn't move as it struggled against an enemy it couldn't fight.
That was when we both heard many footfalls in the woods. We both turned to look at the same time to see what was making so much noise and coming closer, and I was surprised to see five people running through the woods towards us.
“By the Son's Light! It's an owlbear!” One of them yelled and they spread out. Two of them pulled out crossbows and split off to the sides as they dropped to their knees and aimed. The other three drew their swords and prepared to attack.
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“RAGGHHLLLLGGGHHH!” The owlbear tried to roar at them and coughed blood out instead.
“Back OFF! It's RABID!” One of the swordsmen yelled, which was the dumbest thing he had ever done.
The owlbear took off as if it had always been running and hadn't just started. The man screamed for only half a second as the bear's massive claws tore part of his chest away and it tried to bite his face off. Its beak-like mouth didn't work right, thanks to being cut in half by me, and it only left scratches and a few scrapes. Its claws worked fine, however. A front paw pushed down on his shoulder and stepped on him, then the other paw clawed the face off.
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You have a choice to make. Will you be smart or stupid?
A) Do nothing. B) Help. C) Yell. D) Run. E) Signal for them to leave. F) Choose two.
I am absolutely not getting myself killed for these idiots. I thought. I think the owlbear's dying anyway, so I'm choosing A.
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“Good god.” One of the other fighters said and then several crossbow bolts hit it in the shoulder. The owlbear sucked up the man's face and tried, quite fruitlessly, to chew on it with a damaged mouth. The fighter lunged forward and stabbed it right in the eye and the owlbear gurgled a roar at him and lunged itself. He was down a second later and his chest and head were stomped into paste as the owlbear seemed to take out its frustration on him.
“RETREAT!” The last swordsman yelled, which got the owlbear's attention, to his horror.
Idiots. I thought and stopped myself before I shook my head. The last thing I wanted was to get the owlbear's attention as it was in the last few minutes of its life. Blood still gushed out of the wound I had caused it and the more it moved, the faster the blood seemed to flow. I also refrained from using hand signals, since it would definitely sense the movement.
Even with the owlbear moving slower, the swordsman's skill was no a match for its ferocity. He tried for the other eye, not realizing that it didn't need to see him, since it could clearly hear him. He was right there next to it and the owlbear used its size advantage to full effect. The sword proved less than effective against large claws and the lower part of his arm was torn away as the owlbear got rid of the thing that had poked it.
The swordsman gripped the stump of his arm where the elbow used to be and dropped to the ground. The two crossbowmen were smart and had stayed where they were instead of retreating. They also didn't shoot, which would have gotten the owlbear's attention. We stayed there for nearly twenty minutes as it seemed to lumber around. I think it had forgotten why it was there in the first place and it didn't know what to do with itself, now that no one was attacking it.
It let out a low whine a minute later and then keeled over onto the ground. I wasn't stupid enough to move yet, though. I noticed one of the crossbowmen start to stand and I made the signal to hold position. He gave me an angry glare and I repeated the motion. He nodded and eased back down. I waited another ten minutes until I couldn't hear the creature breathing anymore.
I gave the caution and proceed signals, and both men slowly stood up and crept towards it. I went as well and didn't make any noise as I approached it. One of the crossbowmen stepped on a twig and we froze. Nothing happened and I made the okay signal. The two of them let out sighs and approached carefully. One of them saw the bisected face and looked at me in surprise.
“Why didn't it die?” He asked.
I bent down to look at it, then used the hilt of my knife to poke the beak-like mouth. It moved as one, even though it was off center and was supposed to be cut in half. I checked the face and saw it was the same, partially healed.
“It was healing itself.” I said and the two men stared at me. “I don't know how, either. I sliced it from the back of the head to its chin.” I showed them and one of them whistled. “I thought that would have killed it. I was wrong.”
“Hey, why didn't you help?” The other asked.
“Because of what you saw.” I said and walked over to the swordsman that had lost his forearm. “Any noise or movement attracted its attention, unless you overwhelm it or distract it with food.”
“I need... a tourniquet.” He said.
“Explain.” I said and he did. I cut off a small length of rope and tied it onto his arm, right above the tear, and tightened it.
“GAH!” He gasped. “That's tight enough!”
I nodded and went to get his arm. I did the same thing to it and handed it to him. He gave me an incredulous look and didn't comment. I handed him his sword next and he awkwardly put it in its sheath.
“How the hell are we going to explain what happened?” One of the crossbowmen asked. “I mean, I saw what happened and I don't believe it.”
I walked over to the owlbear and got a good look at the size. It was about ten feet tall if it stood up on its back legs and it was about three people wide. I tried to roll it over and it was heavy. I knew just how to make it a lot lighter and charged my knife.
“What are you doing?” One of the crossbowmen asked as he saw the knife glow.
“Gutting it to make it lighter.” I said and sliced it from the neck to the privates, then cut it across the soft underbelly to the hips. I went over to the rope I had on the ram and untied it and brought it over to the owlbear. I tied its back paws together and tossed the rope over a thick tree branch that was nearby. I made sure it was down at the spot next to the trunk, then pulled.
The owlbear lifted partially into the air and the guts spilled right out. I went over and cut them free, then pulled the carcass up into the air and tied the rope off to hold it in place. I made appropriate cuts in the neck to let the blood drain out, assuming there was any left in the thing.
I went over to the female goat and checked it to see that it was fine and would make good eating. The ram was pretty mangled, so I couldn't use most of it. I cut up the untouched parts and put them into one of the bags and then cut the female goat into appropriate sized pieces as well. I stuffed them into that bag and half into another. I hung them on my shoulder and went to the men just standing there.
“Are you taking the bodies back?” I asked and they gave me odd looks. “What?”
“You just butchered those animals.” One of them said.
“How else do you cook them?” I asked and he looked surprised.
“Yes, we're taking them back.” The maimed swordsman said and stood. He looked a little wobbly. One of the crossbowmen offered him a shoulder.
“I'll make a stretcher.” I said and they stared at me as I cut down two appropriate sized trees with my knife, sliced the bark off of them, then I cut open one of my large bags. After some number ten potion, the large stretcher was done and I did my best to put the two bodies onto it. “You have to take them.” I said to the other crossbowman.
“Why me?” He asked.
“I'm taking the owlbear.” I said and untied it, then I hefted it up and onto my shoulders as if I was giving it a piggyback ride, like I had done for Rich back home.
“Good god.” He whispered.
“We need to go. The wolves won't stay away for long, not with this much free food around.” I said.
“WOLVES?!?” They asked, shocked.
The swordsman was the first to recover. “Let's go! Go! GO!” He said and we left in a hurry.