Ordinarily, the chirping of nocturnal insects would fill the air, but just as during the day, the woods were eerily silent, except for the soft sounds of Ricar breathing next to her. That worried Rhania. Normally, the subtle change in their sounds would alert her to the presence of dangerous creatures. Now, she would have to rely on her own senses as night set in. A fire crackled next to her, providing warmth and light. It would give their position away but also hopefully ward off the dangerous creatures that prowled the forest after dark.
This would be yet another entry to add to her Captain’s journal that documented the peculiar goings on in the Sawtooth Forest, or Venyirilia, as it was called in the language of her mother’s people. Strange and sinister things had been happening in these woods for the past three years. Dark creatures had been reported in the Mountains years ago, drawn by an unknown will. The region was too remote and too large to mount a scouring, so people began avoiding the mountains altogether. Even the dwarves were forced to seal the gates to their Ur Dalesh, their kingdom under the mountains.
Having conquered the mountains, the creatures that had made their home in the mountains were beginning to spread out to the surrounding forests, spurring calls for aid from the surrounding communities. Her order, the Arbiters of Ildurin, were the first to answer the call, fighting off roving bands of orcs, and goblins and aggressive creatures the former had displaced from their homes in the mountains. However, after operating in the region for almost a year, they still had no idea what had drawn these creatures here in the first place.
Her Captain wanted to mount an expedition into the mountains, but they were stretched to their limits dealing with incidents like the one happening here in Yeryn. The order needed help and the other great powers were dragging their feet to act. The region of Mindun was poor and sparsely populated, meaning that there would be little benefit to their getting involved.
Rhania sighed in frustration. Humans governed the powerful Allied Kingdoms of Gelbrun to the south, and they were acting with their typical selfish short sightedness. If the Enemy could establish a foothold here, it would be like a knife to their throats. However, they seemed content to wait until it was too late before lending a hand.
Something stirred in the darkness and Rhania leapt to her feet. She strained her senses out into the forest, beyond the fire’s warm light. Her instincts screamed danger, but she couldn’t see or hear any sign of it yet. The hackles on her neck stood on end when she heard it. Soft breaths. It was probably a predator, observing its potential prey at a distance before deciding whether or not to strike. She decided to give it a convincing reason to flee and fired an arrow in its general direction.
There was a snort of surprise. Rhania knew she hadn’t hit her mark, but evidently, it had been close enough to startle the creature. She readied another arrow and waited to see how it would react. Footsteps came crashing through the undergrowth. She kicked dirt onto the fire, extinguishing it, as she fired another shot and darted away into the darkness. Ricar was still fast asleep, but she wasn’t about to risk herself to save him even if he was the only one who knew where the village was. If she died, they were both dead. Besides, if there was one thing her mother had drilled into her head, Her life took precedence over everything else.
Her half elven eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly and spotted the creature appear out of the gloom. Its maned head had the face of a puffy, bearded dwarf, and it had the body of a lion. A manticore. A creature of the mountains that typically preyed on humanoids, with the brains of sentient species being their favourite meal. It had probably come down into the woods in search of prey now that the dwarves of Ur Dalash had sealed themselves off.
“Have you a place by the fire for a lost soul?” the hairs on Rhania’s neck stood on end as the creature spoke with a heavy dwarf accent. Its voice was pleading and feeble, but Rhania knew it was a trap. Manticores got prey to lower their guards by posing as one of their own and approaching in the dead of night. It was common knowledge not to let strangers near your fire where manticores were known to range.
She fired an arrow at its forehead, but the creature was quick to react and dodged to the left. Its tail came whipping out of the darkness. It was covered in foot long needle shaped spikes that were coated in poison, but Rhania was prepared and dodged it easily before firing off another arrow into the creature’s flank.
The manticore roared in pain. It was an ear-splitting sound that was a cross between a man’s shriek, and a lion’s snarl, and it echoed through the forest.
“Be gone, you are overmatched!” Rhania roared in elvish, hoping to intimidate the creature into withdrawing.
However, the beast that was often regarded as the king of the mountains would not be driven off by such a pinprick. It roared defiantly and charged again. Rhania launched an arrow, but the creature merely lowered its head, allowing it to deflect off its bony forehead. She cursed, knowing that if she were able to call upon nature’s blessing, she would have been able to put her arrow right through the beast’s thick skull.
It was almost upon her now, and the manticore opened its mouth which looked grotesquely large for its dwarven face, revealing rows of sharp, needle like teeth. In a single fluid motion, she twisted her body to avoid its snapping jaws and drew the dagger from her back, slicing open the beast’s neck as it came flying past. However, the cut wasn’t deep enough to be fatal as Rhania had to be mindful of the tail and leapt clear. The creature fell to the ground before quickly picking itself up.
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It staggered and shook its shaggy mane, and Rhania could see that the creature was starved. Its ribs were visible through its rich, brown fur. This was probably this creature’s last chance to feed, but Rhania wasn’t about to roll over and die so that it could live.
The two adversaries faced off against one another. Rhania stared the creature down, as though daring it to make the first move. For the first time in its life, the manticore backed away. Then, out of the darkness, Ricar roared as he brought his sword down on the creature’s neck, cutting its head off in a single, savage blow.
When he saw the creature was dead, the grizzled old man staggered before falling onto his backside. After taking a moment to ensure the creature was dead, Rhania turned to her companion. “I had the situation under control. Exerting yourself was unnecessary.”
Ricar managed a tired smile. “So it was, but I saw an opportunity and took it.”
He paused to look at the headless manticore before shaking his head. “I owe you my life.”
“Twice over,” Rhania snorted. “But who’s counting?”
Ricar chuckled. “Well, if there is anything I can do to repay you, please do not hesitate to ask.”
“You can start by giving me directions to the village,” Rhania replied as she inspected the manticore’s body. “Just in case you don’t survive the next attack.”
“You certainly don’t mince words, Madam Arbiter,” he paused as Rhania began skinning the creature. “I didn’t think elves took trophies.”
“This creature was starving,” Rhania said as she cut a section out of the manticore’s flank. “Looking at it reminded me how hungry I am.”
She paused and gave him a quizzical look. “Should I cut you a portion?”
Ricar paused before nodding. “I am surprisingly famished.”
“Then get the fire going again, please,” she said. “You’re sitting two feet from the fireplace.”
“Did you know that the manticore was the emblem of the Second Empire?” Ricar remarked as he piled up the nearby leaves for kindling. “Killing one was punishable by a slow, torturous death for the perpetrator and their family.”
“You were the one who dealt the finishing blow,” Rhania remarked sardonically as she cut the loin into chunks.
“The idea was that you were meant to let it kill you if you ever came across one,” Ricar continued as he blew on the embers he had created.
“I suppose the royal families were exempted from this law,” Rhania observed as she dropped the chunks of flesh into a small cast iron cooking pot. “I can’t imagine them laying down to die if they encountered one in the wild.”
There was a twinkle in Ricar’s eye as he smiled at the half elf. “But of course.”
Rhania smirked. “So, are you going to tell me how to get to this village?”
Ricar laughed. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to change the subject, truly. It’s just that it’s not every day one comes across a manticore.”
Rhania smiled politely but said nothing, waiting for him to continue. Ricar sighed and sat back on his haunches. “I’m afraid my directions will be vague at best. We humans of the Sawtooth Forest rely on intuition to navigate these woods.”
“Let’s hear these directions, then,” Rhania ordered as she added a handful of herbs to the pot before placing it on top of the fire.
Ricar blinked. “Well, you keep the two peaks of Mount Nithdin roughly equidistant from one another and keep walking until you encounter two landmarks. The first is a rock formation that you should pass on your right, and the second, a small brook that is bridged by a collapsed tree. The village stands amidst a large field a short distance from the brook.”
Rhania nodded as the smell of charred meat filled the air. She stirred the contents of the pot with a stick before adding water. She waited until the water began to boil before covering the pot and turned her attention back to Ricar. "Thank you. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“As I said, I wasn’t intentionally trying to keep the location from you,” Ricar pointed out calmly as he stared at the pot. “This will be the first time I’ve eaten manticore.”
“This part tastes like boar,” she said. “Closer to the neck… well, those cuts are prized by cannibals.”
She hid a smile as Ricar’s face turned green. Once the meal had been consumed and her belly pleasantly full, she studied the man for a moment before asking. “Do you feel well enough to take the first watch?”
“Yes,” he replied at once. “I feel like I’ve spent the whole day sleeping.”
“Wake me when you feel tired, or if you sense anything,” Rhania said as she removed her cloak and spread it out on the ground as a makeshift bedroll. She could go three days without sleeping but thought it wise to conserve her strength for now. She still had little clue as to what was waiting for them at the village.
Rhania caught Ricar looking at her and rolled her eyes. “Something catch your eye?”
“Forgive me,” he said. “But you have the body of a child.”
Rhania smirked. “I’ll have you know that I’m old enough to be your grandmother.”
“Isn’t that young for an elf?” Ricar ventured.
“It is,” Rhania shrugged. “I am half elven, though, and apparently the only one in recorded history, so I couldn’t tell you if I was young or old.”
“Have you been with the Arbiters long?”
“Since before you were born,” she replied.
Ricar sighed. “I’m sure you’ve had your share of adventures.”
Rhania nodded silently, ashamed that she had not. Her Captain was an elf and had been treating her like a child for the last seventy years. She was ninety years old, barely an adolescent in his eyes, and she couldn’t bear the way he coddled her. She had to beg and threaten and cajole to even be accepted as part of the Dinburn expedition.
“That’s reassuring to hear,” Ricar continued. “I’ve seen enough horrors in the past week to last me a dozen lifetimes.”
“Do not hesitate to rouse me if you so much as suspect anything is out there,” Rhania said as she lay down on her cloak. “Wake me in two hours. You are still convalescing and if you aren’t alert, it could mean both our deaths.”
“Do not fear, Madam Arbiter, this old man is well aware of his limits,” Ricar said. He glanced at the remains of the manticore nearby and shuddered. “And you don’t have to worry about me taking chances with things like that out there.”
Rhania closed her eyes and attempted to sleep but her mind was churning. What could have corrupted those dogs? Could it also have done the same to a manticore? Would they be able to defeat such a beast? She tried banishing such thoughts from her mind, knowing that there was no point fretting about it now, but they kept creeping back in, nagging at the edge of her consciousness. As the night wore on, she began to understand why her Captain often said that being able to fall asleep on demand was an Arbiter’s greatest asset.