Isak raced up the nailed-in ladder to the top of the tree, knowing that right now everyone was probably running to the town hall. As he pulled himself higher he knew they would keep the doors open as long as they could before Kazimir started sealing the building off with as many ice walls as he could keep up. With pulse pounding in his ears he ascended and knew that they would all fight to not be another warning of the seemingly random cruelty of The Wasteland. Climbing past the last of the bits of nailed-in ladder, he scrambled to the top of the tree to try and see what was going on before he started fighting for his life.

Far off in the distance he saw the last of the villagers fleeing from the amphitheater as the small figures raced towards the town hall. He craned his neck around to scan the land, not even certain what he was looking for until he saw it. Even at this distance, all of his fears were confirmed seeing what he had only read about in books.

Their skin looked transparent, save for a prismatic coloration shifting about like on a bubble of oil lain over muscles as black as a starless night. Most members of the pack looked to be about the size of a massive bear, with a similarly shaped torso but limbs that were long and had them more accurately described as crawling along the ground rather than walking. As for the heads, they were…

Isak’s eyes found a way to shoot open wider than he had previously thought possible with realization and familiarity.

He had read about them in the book he got from Kazimir on Nightspawn. They were mome beasts, and he even recognized the pearlescent skull of their pack leader that they would all follow. Isak looked at the size of the pack, then to the amphitheater, chewing on his tongue as he estimated if they might all reasonably fit in there before deciding on his next terrible idea. The mome beasts were creeping along the barren ground faster towards the village, and it seemed as though all villagers had fled into town hall by now.

And like all Nightspawn, they would be relentless in their attacks until every person was dead. Which meant that Isak may as well go through with his plan, because he was dead either way if he was trapped outside town hall.

As he readied an illusion spell, he only hoped that this was not how he was going to be finding any range limitations of the spell he aimed at the pack leader to make it hear his screams coming from the grove he was currently in. It stopped in its tracks with the rest following suit, head lowering to the ground though exact features were beyond recognition at this range. The pack leader remained still, and while Isak silently celebrated finding that the range of that spell was absolutely massive he was now worrying if his bait would work. When the pack started lurching towards the grove, Isak allowed himself a cheer before casting another illusion spell to really sell the lie.

He started descending the ladder as fast as he could, knowing that fooling the Nightspawn into heading towards the grove instead of the village was only the first part of the plan that hinged on his “screams” being the first screams they heard and focusing in on that before they discovered an entire village filled with people. But he was all too happy to exploit their seemingly cruel nature as he entered the main treehouse, looking around for his spear before tossing his backpack filled with books down onto the floor. If he was going to be running for his life, he would need to travel light.

As he left his treehouse with spear in hand, he tried to not think about how any of this might be the last time he would do so, nor how a hunting spear and some starter spells were not great odds, but instead on how if he pulled this off he could at least have something good to his name to offset having a chicken as a familiar.

Isak was of a lean build, which helped to not slow him down as he raced towards the edge of the grove while adrenaline fueled him onward as he dodged through the trees. He slowed at the edge of the grove, thinking for a moment as he looked around the woods that he needed something else to hold their attention here for just long enough and not turn away towards the village. His free hand shot up to his hair, feeling the length as not nearly long enough to be in any significant amount as Nightspawn bait. He was so panicked right now that relieving himself on some tree was right out of the question.

Which had him letting out an exasperated groan shout as he nicked his hand with the tip of his spear to draw enough blood to hold the attention of the Nightspawn here just long enough. He squeezed his hand as a few red drops hit the soil and frowned, knowing that one tiny splash of blood in one spot wouldn’t be enough.

However…

He cast a storm spell from his bleeding hand to create the least impressive rain of blood in all of history both recorded and unrecorded. That the magic water wouldn’t last for long was to his benefit to not dilute the scent too much but still aid in making a rough circle that would hold the attention of nightmare monsters far better than one small spot. Isak tore off a bit of his woolen cloak to wrap tightly around his hand as he retrieved his spear, took a deep breath, and started racing down the hill just as he heard the far off sound of trees being felled to the tune of some otherworldly howl.

The slope of the hill worked to Isak’s favor even as the coarse dirt and rocks kept threatening to trip him up as he made promises to his legs to never run again if they kept him going only a little bit longer. And they knew he was a liar even then, such that he started to slow down as he finally approached the amphitheater, pausing on the cliff overlooking the converted natural basin as he looked back to the grove. Another tree fell as he jogged down into the amphitheater, hoping that they would be distracted by the blood he spilt even for a short while as he winced at the cut on his hand.

All the preparations had been set for the celebrations to begin tonight, and even The Harvestman’s Revelry was ready to go just lurking in the background to avoid having to do twice as much work. Isak had spent little time actually helping to prepare for the celebrations, instead being out on a ‘hunting’ trip to figure out why all wild animals had vanished from the surrounding area. Isak’s eyes darted around the quickly abandoned scene as he looked for the fuel for this entire plan being anything more than a temporary distraction. He had at least found out why the wilds had been so empty, he thought to himself just as he found the barrels all neatly arranged.

Sure it was far too late and now Nightspawn were now howling for more of his blood and not far away enough, but as he used his spear to stab open a hole in the barrels he thought to himself with a shrug that it still counted as having figured it out. Barrels of wine, beer, hard liquor, and olive oil started gushing out their contents onto the smooth stone ground before he kicked them away to try and spread out the flammable liquids more evenly even as most of them collected at the center due to the gentle sloping letting gravity collect them.

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Not quite satisfied he dragged the leaking barrels around the stone basin as he heard the howling growing closer. This had been a good year for Inicios, and olive oil production had been at an all time high while several villagers had seen good enough yields to put forward this many barrels of alcohol for a shared village festival.

And now Isak was going to incinerate all of that good will.

All for a good cause, of course. Nightspawn were weak to certain elemental damage types even as they resisted more physical damage. An ice spear piercing their flesh may slow them, but a blast of icy frost would disrupt their very flesh. Falling rocks may batter and slow them, but a lightning bolt would flash fry them.

And fire? The few things in this world that could shrug off fire tended to be made of the stuff, and burning did wonders to stop Nightspawn from healing.

He was gasping for breath as he looked down at his still bleeding hand, beckoning the mome beasts to him much too fast for comfort. Isak pulled off his cloak, dousing it in a still oozing barrel of liquor as he started to tear it into a long strip while running to the opposite end of the amphitheater. One end of the length was thrown into a pool of flammable liquid as he hid behind one of the stones placed at the edge of the basin for decoration. His teeth grit as the pack leader's head peeked out from the top of the ridge.

Like every other beast in the pack it had the same transparent skin constantly shifting in prismatic fashion like an oil bubble as shifting pitch black muscles just beneath clear flesh stretched and strained as they leapt down from the ridge and into the amphitheater. Long limbs and pearlescent claws that could tear a man to shreds with ease carried them towards the scent of fresh blood. While each of them had a head like a cross between a wolf and a wild hog, the pack leader had an outer skull-like casing around its head in the same pearlescent color as its claws and tusks.

They crashed and plowed through tables, tents, and stalls as Isak waited for them to reach the center before he cast his storm spell to light the end of the soaked cloak with a spark. Flames raced onward as he ducked away, and the last he saw of their eyes was an animalistic shock at the fire that soon engulfed all of them along with everything else in the amphitheater. Howls and shrieks rang out as they flailed about in the fire.

Isak fell over onto his side as he admired his handiwork, and started to laugh. The roaring fire making up for the loss of his woolen cloak even as he laid in the cold dirt and rocks poking into his side. Somewhere in the back of his head, he worried that everyone would be furious at him for burning down no less than what amounted to three village religious festivals, a public works project, and an overall symbol of unity.

Perhaps the gods would forgive him.

And perhaps they wouldn’t, as the pearlescent skull of the pack leader arose from the flames and began shambling towards Isak as he scrambled backwards on his hands and feet. He grabbed at his hunting spear as the beast lurched forward, now unburdened by the translucent and prismatic skin as pitch black strands of muscle and sinew burning only slowed the lead mome beast down to a crawl while the rest of its pack incinerated behind it.

Its maw opened, revealing countless curved teeth big enough to pierce clean through any person’s skull. The sound it let out was not the unearthly howl that had been chasing after Isak for what seemed like hours, but his own scream repeated back to him as he had made the creature hear with his illusion.

As Isak’s mouth opened to let out one final scream before being torn to shreds, a javelin pierced its eye to make it rear back. Another hit it in the shoulder before Captain Zolin led a charge of the village guards all stabbing their axespears into the beast as it thrashed about.

Amado’s arms were around Isak while he was still in shock, dragging him back to safety and dropping a bundle of javelins as the guards struggled to keep the beast pinned back and in the flames.

“Everyone get down!” Kazimir shouted as best his old voice could handle. “I really don’t want to miss!”

Father and son and all the guards fell to the ground. The mome beast seized on the freedom and lurched forward with how right as a massive lightning bolt hit it in the mouth, vaporizing all flesh and leaving a half destroyed skull as the mome beast’s body hit the ground with a hard thud.

The wide eyed minotaur carrying Kazimir set him down on his feet as the old mage gave a cheer. “I still got it!”

“ISAK!” Amado shouted as soon as he had picked the both of them up, setting his still dazed son down. “What. Happened?!?”

“Uh…”

“Tytus saw the whole thing while leading us here!” Kazimir exclaimed as he hobbled over, clearly having had enough excitement for one day. “Your boy led them right into a trap and burned them all to a crisp! Minus the biggest and nastiest one, sure, but you saw how things went for us working against him alone after your son deep fried him! Maybe leave him to cook a bit longer next time, Isak?”

“Uh, okay…”

Isak didn’t even remember his father being angry at him, just relieved he was alright followed shortly by pride in his son for having saved everyone. Followed shortly by Ezter finally catching up to them and pulling them both into a tearful hug while the village guards ensured all was well and assessed the situation.

The fire raged on as the villagers gathered, and the young mage apologized for burning everything as they all insisted to one degree or another that they would take a village-wide setback as opposed to most if not all of the villagers being hunted down by horrors from the stars. Captain Zolin and the village minister decided that the fire was well enough contained in the basin to let it burn itself out in a day or so rather than put in any effort into extinguishing it. And given the holiday, it was more than a bit festive.

By the eighth day when the fires finally did die out many of the Lavi-Wastelanders, and even a few others who had seen some fairly compelling evidence, didn’t quite know what to make of the young mage. While this holiday was meant to commemorate the sacred oil in the lanterns hung in the highest point of The Hallowed Tower proving that the gods’ light had not been extinguished and a people endured, it was hitting a bit close to home for all involved.

Isak insisted that all the remains of the mome beasts be sold off to repay the villagers for everything they lost, despite their protests that such a gesture was unnecessary. But he was his mother’s son, and he insisted until they agreed and instead took the opportunity of The Harvestman’s Revelry, already well underway though with less of a feast than previously planned, to provide the young mage with some small gifts that he might find useful as he would be going off to magic school soon.

Kazimir’s attempts at repaying Isak were of course met with rejections and an insistence that dealing with the mome beasts was somehow repayment for the book on The Lost Lands.

At least until Isak’s mother returned from shopping one day to happily announce that, as a favor and because the boy would not accept it as a gift, Kazimir had sold her what he swore to be the most unique familiar that The Empire would ever see.

Isak would always remember that silent prayer that it not be a chicken.