Urax had told me of sculks, but it wasn't the first I had heard about the nasty critters. Distant relatives to both kobolds and rattar-ilk, they shared features of the two, but were thinner, more feline, and lacked fur. Most importantly, they were primitive, yet less animalistic, and a nuisance to farmers anywhere. Killing livestock and uprooting crops under the cover of night, they were a true menace to the common folk.
The one sitting just inside the mouth of Wolagh looked to be resting. Its features were muddled by the dark within, but enough light still reached from outside to have given it away. I had hid behind a rocky offshoot in the wall the moment I noticed it's tired panting. Gods, I wish I had Yarelic's sensory arts! Going into the winding darkness of a cave, not knowing what awaited behind each twisting turn, terrified me, true and deep.
I considered my options closely. Setting the sculk ablaze from a safe distance felt the most sound, but once I had conjured a flame, either the light or the faint smell of smoke might alert the creature. I still wasn't sure how quick the thing was on its feet. Another was to sneak up on it with the shacksa, but that felt barbaric and cruel. I shuddered at the thought as my hand clutched around the leatherbound handle strapped to my belt. One way or another, this was the reason I was here, and on top of that, the beast was blocking my path. Sculk-ears were two for a silver, and I would need to kill many to repay what I owed.
I stayed low, clung to the cave walls as I whispered, and in my hand, a small ball of bright fire took shape. I hadn't expected just how much light would come from such a small flame, yet my shadow danced on the roof of the cave as the area lit up with a sprawling yellow gleam.
The eyes of the sculk shot open and it scrambled to its feet. Wildly, it looked around at the shadows moving about, before shouting words of gibberish and angrily hitting the stony wall with a crude club.
I cursed, and sent the ball hurling towards its chest. It instead hit the throat of the sculk with a flaring bang. The screaming stopped, replaced by a desperate gurgling as the creature struggled to breathe, its windpipe crushed. But it was too late, the noise had alerted others, and I could hear them rummage and yelp from the tunnels within. I took one horrified look at the creature dying before me, then fled on unsteady feet, back the way I had come.
This wasn't like with the rattar, who had come for me with murder in their eyes. This had been a lone scared creature. I disturbed it, awoke it…murdered it. As I hid in the crown of a nearby tree, well prepared to throw fire at any beast willing to challenge the vantage, I reflected on what I had just done. Tried my best to convince myself that it had been necessary. They are monsters, beasts. They steal and kill without remorse, I just have to do to them what they would otherwise do to others! I tried to picture them dragging children away, and ripping the heads off of chickens for nothing but the fun of it, like in the stories I had heard from my mother so long ago. I imagined them pelting innocent farmhands with fist-sized stones, and beating father Norn with tools of wood and stone. Though unintentional, that last thought eased my mood somewhat. It was a scenario, though admittedly cruel, I sure wouldn't have minded.
I could hear them chatter from within the cave, but they did not come after me even as the landscape bathed in twilight. Judging by the history badly hidden by the grass, it wasn't the first time they had been lured out into an awaiting ambush. Smart enough to remember and learn, I noted to myself. A thought both bitter and chilling.
I clenched my jaw, gathered what little courage I could find, and climbed down to try again. Inside, the noise had died down, but the body of the sculk was gone. I cursed in silence, there goes my silver, while letting a fiery orb form and hover about an arm's length above my shoulder. I would be giving my presence away, but I had decided it was better than going in blind. The main cave shot off into several smaller paths, but the thought of getting caught in a cramped space with no room to move was less appealing than potentially facing more than one of the little beasts at a time. And so, I hesitantly continued on through the main tunnel. The sculks were nowhere to be seen. They might have taken to one of the branches, I thought, for a moment contemplating whether to go against logic and search one of the many spindly paths. Again, I decided against it.
A strange confidence had begun setting in as I continued deeper into the fungus-oozing dark. Slowly, I could feel my fear dissipate and in its stead, an idea had begun to take shape. I'm not being hunted, I am the hunter! It was the opposite to what I had lived through those very recent days, alone in the forest. However, the feeling didn't last long. Up ahead, I could hear screeching and yelping, angry chatter and shrieks of pain echoing. I hastily unfastened the shacksa and removed its sheath, my palms beginning to sweat, while whispering for more heat to gather within the floating orb.
As the cave opened up into a larger room, a peculiar, yet horrific scene of panicked carnage was unfolding in the dim light. The group of sculks I had been looking for, had in fact been following the same path through the cave as me, but had at some point been unlucky enough to stumble into a band of ratmen. Now the two groups of beasts were rolling around, clawing and hammering at each other with equally ferocious desperation.
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Should I wait for them to kill each other? What if one group gets an upper hand, or some escape to bring more of their kind? The thoughts whirled inside my head as I tried to decide what to do. A true hunter would've probably come up with tactics or a plan to approach; I didn't. In the end, my decision was between doing nothing and attacking. I chose the latter.
The yelps and screeches rose in magnitude as the stench of burnt fur permeated throughout the cave. I stood, jaw clenched, sending one fireball after the other flying into the midst of the already chaotic brawl. It didn't kill them outright, but those struck, rolled and clawed at the flames licking their limbs. Whenever a rattar fell to the flames, sculks would jump in to thrash at them, and the ratmen would then do the same in return.
One of the wild-eyed beasts turned its attention to its assailer as flames grazed past its side and struck the rattar before it. The sculk rushed towards me, teeth bared in a mix of hissing, and gibberish snarls and yelps. I didn't have time to whisper forth another flame before it was upon me, club flailing. In a moment of biting fear, I swung the shacksa at its club wielding hand, only to feel the blade tear through both flesh and sinew. A loud snapping sound also told me that the bone within the sculk's wrist had not held up against the blow.
It screamed, a blood-curdling, scream of pain and fear, as the club fell out of its grasp. I could see the regret in its green eyes as it tried to turn, but again I swung, this time for its neck. There was barely any resistance. The shacksa slipped effortlessly through the gap between bones in its neck, a moment later the head rolled down towards the skirmish while the body slumped against the cave wall. It took all my might to not let my meals of the day escape me. Through sheer will I pushed the nausea aside, and did my best to avert my eyes from the sculk whose life I had just robbed. Steeled myself to continue.
By now, few beasts were left standing. A rattar sat atop a sculk, caving its head in with a large rock. I snuck up behind it and buried the shacksa into the unguarded back. The rattar dropped the rock in shock and began flailing, trying desperately to reach behind with its claws, but in vain. I stood steadfast with both hands gripping the weapon tightly as tears streamed down my face.
"Just die already," I whispered through clenched teeth.
And as if it had heard me, the flailing came to a stop and the beast's head slumped. Drained of both vigor and will, I tugged at the shacksa, eventually freeing the blade with a wet, sliding sensation. It felt disgusting. And as the ratman collapsed atop its defeated foe, I too collapsed as my knees buckled. Heavily panting, my mouth dry and nausea climbing up my chest, I struggled and heaved and tried my best to hold myself together.
After a while of sitting on the hard floor, trying to find the spirit to collect the ears of the fallen, I realized there were sounds from all around. Short stuttered breaths and soft groaning came from the ones that were to die, but still refused to welcome it. My mouth filled with bitterness as I realized what I had to do, and tiredly, I raised to my feet.
For a moment, I simply stood and gazed at the surrounding carnage, until the, by now familiar, waves of golden light began to appear from the unmoving bodies around me. They flowed unhindered across the uneven floor, past clusters of ghostly fungi, and up my legs. When I tried to touch them, they flowed through my fingers unaffected, spreading a soft warmth as they disappeared, just like before, into my chest. I looked around, puzzled by the phenomenon. Watched, as more threaded light came pouring from the dead whenever I neared, but none from those that still clung to life.
Hesitantly, I walked from fallen to fallen, whoever released no golden strands I bore down on with the shacksa. Soon, the radiant waves appeared from within them too. Methodically, I went from beast to beast, until the only light inside the cave remaining was that of my floating fire.
Breathing heavily, a relentless fatigue washed over me, but I wasn't done yet. From behind a man-sized dripstone, I could hear wheezing and gurgling, a despairing struggle for life. When I circled the rock, I found the first sculk I had encountered at the entrance, barely alive, and still fighting for air. Its comrades had torn a hole in the creature's throat to allow for it to breathe. The sight, although gruesome, shook me in a way I would have never expected. These creatures were wise enough to care for and help their own. That realization alone made them more human than any children's story had ever made seem. And as the eyes of the sculk met mine, I felt tears well up. I knew what I had to do, but it just felt wrong.
"I'm sorry!" I sobbed, as the shacksa's bloodied steel put the creatures suffering to an end.
Once more, the golden lights appeared, but this time when they entered me, a warmth beyond any previous felt flowed from deep within. A sense of accomplishment, and growth spread from my chest as all my built up fatigue just disappeared. It was strange, one moment everything had seemed so bleak and horrifying, but now I stood invigorated, refreshed and the bitterness replaced by the sweetness of success. Baffled, I turned to look at the orb of fire floating above me. Not only could I feel its radiant warmth, I could feel 'it'. Perhaps the faint sensation was something I had always sensed being there, but never managed to fully grasp. But now the thing hidden within the glowing ball was as tangible as the rocks around me.
"Finally!" A bright voice cried out from behind me, but when I spun around, my heart threatening to jump out of my chest from the surprise, there was no one there. Some fatigue of the mind clearly remained, I concluded.
Once the elation had waned, and the reality surrounding me made itself remembered, I clenched my jaw with determination and did what had to be done. Though I tried to numb myself as I pushed on with the necessary collecting of ears. The small knife I had brought with me sure served its purpose well, and soon a small pile of hairy, fleshy bits lay before me, not at all looking like the pile of silver they would later be turned into. A piece of cloth, bound with a strip ripped from my blanket would have to do for a makeshift bag, as I tied it to the side of my backpack.
Even though I was sure I had gathered enough ears to repay my debt to Yarelic, and maybe even collect a few silver for myself, something spurred me on. Through everything gritty and cruel, grim and horrific, there was still that faint taste of victory lingering at the back of my tongue. Decidedly, I turned my back on the room and the havoc within, and continued further into the sprawling depths. Accompanied by the soft, fiery glow from my gleefully bobbing flame.