It was early the next morning when the caravan departed from Grenne, taking the road between Grenne in the north and Port Ealar in the south-east. With Port Ealar being the only port town along the rocky eastern coast of Kyrnos belonging to the Balearii clan, and the base of their naval forces in the region.
“Gulgul stop running off by yourself. Get back here now!” Cauaria didn’t yell, for fear of waking the exhausted Ianessa, but the inflection in her voice was borderline animalistic. Like an angry and exhausted mother, warning her cub to get back in line, ignoring the fact that this cub was easily two or three times her size. At her side curled up in a thick fur coat lay the young girl, head pressed up against Cauaria flank, and her shaky little breathes barely audible over the howl of the frigid winds.
“Haha… you brought this on yourself my little Firestarter. I told you, the beast is too much of a coward, you have coddled him far too much. You’ve already ruined his natural instincts so why not let him chase the butterflies and smell flowers, can’t do much worse at this point.” Vexariz was quick to attack his daughter’s style of upbringing. Something he did every time the creatures actions degraded its fierce image. Which for Gulgul was almost all the time.
“Shut up already DAD! I can’t take you questioning my parenting style, Gulgul belongs to me… not you! I found him and I raised him, he doesn’t need to be a ferocious beast if he doesn’t want to. Gulgul is a good boy… isn’t that right Gulgul?” After placing Ianessa’s head carefully onto the seat, Cauaria pounced off the wagon and onto Gulgul’s massive crimson furred back. Allowing him to carry her alongside the wagon. All the while she rubbed her face in his warm coat and made sure to give his ears a good scratch.
As is obvious Gulgul would stop every so often crying until Cauaria would allow him to flip over, then she would rub his belly vigorously for a few minutes. The others, not just Vexariz were getting fed up with this routine, the glare in their eyes a clear sign. Even Sabina and Anselm, Cauaria’s staunch supporters could be seen stamping their feet in agitation. It was only a matter of time until someone ended up exploding, and strangely enough it was not Vexariz.
“Enough Cauaria! Get back on the wagon and keep Gulgul nearby or by the gods I will leash him! It’s cold, I’m hungry, and we still have an hour or two before we arrive at Port Ealar! Do not test my patience.” Sabina laid into Cauaria with a fury, the person in question having the awareness to appear sorry. Whereas Gulgul, he did what he always did when scared, placed his head down covered his eyes with his paws and whimpered silently. The tactic usually worked to dissuade punishment, but at this moment Sabina was having none of it. “Gulgul…come here NOW!”
The finality of the woman’s tone made even the bear realize there was no going against her, he would not be able to worm his way out of following her orders this time. A handful of laughs could be heard from the second wagon following behind, at first it was a snicker or two, until finally almost everyone was roaring with laughter. Even the exhausted Ianessa had no choice but to groggily rise, shivering even in the thick coat and blanket, she was wide awake now, but clearly a bit irritated.
Their caravan consisted of four covered wagons, with five people per wagon and enough supplies to last the weeklong journey by ship. It was also important to bring several items that would be of interest to the Scholar, especially the prototype that had been given to Vexariz. None of the others had seen its effect on the training targets, but they had heard no end of how great it was. As Vexariz had trouble holding his tongue, constantly showing off his beautiful new partner whenever the opportunity arose.
It had taken much effort, and a less than savory threat from Sabina for the man child to finally shut his mouth. Cold winds were already coming down from the mountains, with a very thin layer of white barely perceptible upon the ground, signs that winter was close approaching. A major reason why Sabina wanted to arrive at Port Ealar, sit around a warm fire, and enjoy a hearty meal, none of which being out in the cold would accomplish.
“HURRY UP! KEEP THE PONIES MOVING!” Vexariz yelled loud enough for the entirety of the caravan to hear, his voice echoing outwards and amplified by the surrounding hills. Kyrnosian ponies made for poor warhorses, their speed far too slow, and their maneuverability poor. However, these stout creatures made for wonderful beasts of burden, they were tough and hardy with excessive stamina to complete long haul trips across mountainous terrain, which was most of Kyrnos. It was thanks to these hardy mounts that the caravan was able to travel non-stop between Grenne and Port Ealar, saving them some time on the trip.
“Don’t worry Chief, we’ll get there no probl-” The guard yelling from the third wagon was abruptly shut off, followed by a yell for help. Two more arrows flew towards the Balearii chieftain, but Vexariz deftly swatted the projectiles from the air with his massive war axe. “TO ARMS MEN! TO ARMS, WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!” If they were unaware of the ambush before, they knew now.
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From the surrounding forests emerged men, their braided beards and blue warpaint identified them as members of the northern Karsi tribe. However, their primitive attire marked them as Karsi outcasts, those who had chosen not to submit to the Lyrian colonists of Aletria. These men and women had chosen to brave the mountains, making their homes in hidden mountain valleys while raiding nearby towns, villages, and regions.
The Karsi made no attempt at negotiation, instead choosing to unleash another barrage of arrow fire. Without time to form a wagon circle, or to get the animals, specifically the ponies to safety. Vexariz and his group could only hope they had enough to make the trip with all four wagons once the combat was over, assuming they survived.
“WARRIORS OF BALEARII! ATTACK!” Under Vexariz’s command the remaining guardsmen raised their shields, and began their march forward, with shields overlapping, axes in hand.
Although the Karsi warriors outnumbered the Balearii guards two to one, they were ill-equipped to deal with the heavily armored and shielded fighters. Their yew hunting bows lacked the power to penetrate the thick iron rimmed shields. While heavy bronze armor worn by the Balearii warriors easily turned aside the weak stone arrowheads.
As the Balearii soldiers closed in on their opponents they broke ranks and surged forward, yet the Karsi had no intention of locking blades. Instead, they turned their backs to their opponents and made to flee as their rear guard prepared to unleash another volley of arrows. However, the Karsi did not expect what came next, as opposed to chasing down the fleeing enemy, the Balearii soldiers held their ground, took aim, and hurled their axes at the enemy preparing to fire.
Fifteen axes soared through the air, of those ten struck, embedding themselves deep within the enemy’s flesh. Some died, and others were maimed, the injuries enough to stop the next volley of arrows, and enough time to launch another fifteen axes. This time the target was the backs of the fleeing Karsi warriors. They were too close and could not see what was coming with their backs to the enemy, making them easy targets. Another ten axes struck true, with ten more Karsi falling to the ground either dead or seriously injured.
In a single exchange the tides had turned, superior armor, training, and tactics had dominated the unarmored Karsi skirmishers. The slaughter was not over, for while the ambushers had been distracted by the heavily armored soldiers, a small group of four had broken through the forest on their right flank. Vexariz’s axe, Fleshrender lived up to its name, bisecting two men with a single swing, their top halves falling lifelessly to the floor.
Not to be outdone by her father Cauaria darted into the gaps, both her short swords dancing in the afternoon sun, spraying crimson with every movement. Limbs went flying, hearts were pierced, and some fell, their guts leaking from open bellies.
Following the monster father and daughter duo were Sabina and Anselm, wielding hammer, and mace. They possessed neither the barbaric ferocity of Vexariz, nor the finesse of Cauaria, but the two made quick work of their opponents, nonetheless. Eschewing flashy strikes or fancy footwork, the two stuck with the tried-and-true method, when in doubt bash their brains out. Both the hammer and mace were adept at accomplishing this task, which was further reinforced by the Karsi warriors lying still in a pool of their blood, brains scattered across the forest floor.
Barely ten minutes had passed, and the fight was pretty much over, the Karsi had been reduced from forty strong to only fourteen. Their dead lay scattered across the area, some dead, most injured and crying out for mercy. Yet even with such odds, none of the ambushers chose to surrender, they instead held their weapons and prepared to fight to the death.
The two sides eyed one another, the Karsi and Balearii reforming their groups and preparing for the final clash. It was at this moment, just as the battle was about to begin that Gulgul made his entrance, the crimson bear rushing up the hill and grabbing Cauaria’s armor and dragging her away. Yet Vexariz did not get angry, did not yell, he had seen the look of fear in the creature’s eyes, understood the survival instincts that one such as Gulgul possessed and chose to trust those instincts.
“Soldiers, retreat!” The others didn’t understand the reason for such an order but trusted the words of their chieftain. Even as they came under Karsi arrow fire, the soldiers maintained their shield wall, retreating slowly and in good order. It did not take long for Vexariz’s instincts to be proven correct.
As their formation reached the bottom of the hill, the arrow fire stopped, followed by a scream and an earth-shattering roar. Seconds later something came flying down the hill, it was one of the Karsi warriors, his body had been torn in two. Ignoring the screams and cries coming from the top of the hill, the Balearii soldiers ran for dear life towards their wagons. Luckily for them the ponies were uninjured but had to be soothed from their terrified state.
It did not require much prodding to get the men and ponies moving. The screams and the sound of battle from atop the hill were already beginning to die down, and none wish to be there when whatever caused it came down looking for more.
Vexariz took one last glance back, witnessing the four-armed monster tearing apart the final Karsi warrior. The ursine creature was nearly ten or eleven feet tall, with fur as dark as the night sky. It resembled a bear but one with extra arms and an armor-like carapace, everything about it screamed unnatural danger. The image brought up old memories and Vexariz could not help but shiver at the sight. Had they stayed, they may have ended up the same as the Karsi.