“A unicorn?” Esme looked up dubiously from the grinding stone.

“A unicorn!” Galilea echoed, radiant in pure excitement. The marchioness was in a white muslin ill fit for an excursion, but her eyes sparkled with unbridled thoughts of adventures.

“But we are about...” Esme gestured around, and found a camp in the process of settling down instead of breaking, gears dropped from horseback and wagons unloaded. No few grumbled complaints reached their earshot, for it was a sudden order.

“Lord Kamaric’s command,” Cordelia said simply. She stood a little behind Galilea, leaving the overeager marchioness to complete the first phase of the plan.

“Well, a unicorn. Sure,” Esme said, seeming all but sure about the situation. “But why now? And why only us?”

“Because,” Galilea declared, “unicorns come only after maidens, everyone knows that, and, well, I’m not exactly one but my presence will not chase it away as would the men. And I would fain to see one.”

“I sensed one in the area,” Cordelia added helpfully.

“You sensed it?”

It was a flawless plan in that whether Esme would buy it or not did not at all matter. And she did not, but she would not gainsay her mistress’s command. And so the girl began to gather up her gear and girdle up.

As the marchioness gingerly skipped away, the blonde gave her companion sidelong look. “So what’s that about?”

“A unicorn,” Cordelia answered matter-of-factly.

Esme rolled her eyes. “I know you don’t care about unicorns, Cordelia. And how did you convince Sir Kamaric to let you borrow his wife for something so... silly.”

“It’s not silly,” Cordelia insisted, “Galilea really wanted to see a unicorn.”

“And you raised the subject in the first place.”

“I simply told her there was one in the area. Now let us move on.”

The girl sighed, and got up.

Once they had put the camp behind, the three turned from the main road and headed towards the woodland. Esme led the way with no more direction in mind than one on a post-meal walk. And she obviously thought it would amount to nothing more than that one. But both Cordelia and Galilea were adamant that the unicorn could only be wandering in the woods. So into that shadowy place they went, out of sight of the camp and the security it provided.

The woods plunged without warning into dense overgrown, so that little space was afforded for aught formation but single file. Esme cleared the way with her sword and Galilea pointed to openings promising of the lurking mythical beast. Between them only Esme had experience with hunting, and she of a surety detected no track of it. But Cordelia knew that they were no hunters but the hunted, and their predator would hungrily arrive soon enough.

This excursion, after all, provided irresistible baits. Of these three, two were defenseless, and they were away from Sir Kamaric, the biggest and perhaps only threat to the einheri in the area. It would never have made a bold move with a knight so close by. She still remembered how it had fought Derrick to a draw and still didn’t manage to finish him who had been poisoned for defending the priest. No such vulnerability could be expected in a fully alerted warband. And Kamaric was even more daunting a foe.

And so it had bided its time, waiting for such an opportunity when Cordelia and Esme were foolish enough to allow themselves to be separated from their sole protector. Now that opportunity had presented itself. That Galilea was there to serve as a convenient hostage should the knight be alerted and come over. Not even the most cautious foe would pass up on this chance. And if Cordelia’s read was correct, this einheri had been thirsting to the point of insanity for it. Obsessively it had been following Kamaric’s warband, and only some last slivers of caution had kept from more daring approaches. Such a foe driven by boiling emotions yet precariously checked by fear could be confused, tricked, and manipulated.

Even now she could sense it drawing steadily close, watching to make certain no other threats awaited in ambush nearby. Faintly did Cordelia sense its presence between the soggy wetness of the forest. She was impatient, but there was little they could do but keep on walking aimlessly.

One of them made a show of weakness readily enough. Oft the marchioness tripped on the slippery soil and treacherous roots, and the hawthorns were not merciful with her muslin and its needlessly fluffy components. Once she made a particularly bad fall, planting her head on the soggy dead leaves. Without much dignity remaining, she cursed.

Cordelia merely looked over her shoulder, “Let us hurry, there’s a clearing ahead,” she said. Even Esme’s heart was not all in helping her mistress up, for she turned her head restlessly about. “Something fell’s coming.”

“Yes,” Cordelia said grimly.

“Can the aura of a unicorn be so foul?”

But Cordelia had already rushed for the clearing, Galilea closely behind. Both felt the oppressive presence coming strong and unrelenting. Gone were the woodland creatures’ wholesome chatters. The ominous rustle of leaves and branches carried warnings of something out of place. Under the grass and behind the rocks forest critters froze dead still. Even the wind that rustled the treetops sounded laden with a thing strange.

The glade where Cordelia and Galilea emerged was a sullen and shadowy place, flanked and roofed by enormous trees of great boughs and floored with moss and dead leaves. A fallen tree had walled off a third of the glade, and it was there with her back against it that Cordelia made her stand. After a heartbeat, Esme arrived. The girl had resolved herself into battle readiness, her face grim and set - whatever the presence was, it did not herald its coming with a promise of peace.

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For an instant she exchanged a look with Cordelia then whipped around, facing the direction where the rustling was rapidly growing in intensity.

That malice Cordelia and her strange horse Hagborn had scented before the gate of Argenton now pervaded once more. It was a scent of dreadful hatred unconcealed, only this time directed to all three of them.

Then it manifested in sounds: an undulating streak of unearthly shrieks piercing through the groanings of great trees being pushed aside.

Just as soon as her forked tongue thrust out, the dark tablet appeared, for the first time revealing to her information of the creature.

image [https://i.ibb.co/n3YKTQ6/CS-7-Collin-1.png]

COLLIN VON ULLR

PATRON: Lord of the Hunt

RACE: Mimic

Alignment: Neutral Evil

Attributes:

Might - A

Masteries - E

Endurance - A

Spirit - D

Perception - E

Charisma - F

Leadership - F

CLASS: Shapeshifter

Title:

-Captain of the Wild Hunt

The trees burst. Branches and barks launched across the clearing then shattered against the opposite tree line. As splinters rained, a billowy shape shot into the open, a leathery thing of no discernible form. Then it unfolded into a great body of black fur and enveloping membrane wings. The hideous bat head was as that one Cordelia had beheld through the aperture in the temple’s wall, its beastly features further amplified in the scant daylight.

From its mouth the shrieks came, ringing into their ears and all the way into their bones.

“You bitch! I have you now, Cordelia!”

Wild was the sound it made. Yet a hint of human madness could still be heard between the guttural sounds of the monstrous throat. The creature was a maddened thing, enraged beyond reason.

“Fiend!” Cordelia asked, undaunted, “Have you been hiding in Argenton all this time?”

But the monster did not appear to hear her question. Its tirade went on at increasing pitch. “Pest! Pest! Pest, insect, vermin! How dare you do it! How dare you! How dare you! How dare you! Do you know how much time you rats have cost me? Me trapped by your stupid quest and your shitty town while I could be out farming exp! I’ll murder you, I;ll destroy you for sure you kill stealing bitch!”

“Silence, fiend!” roared Cordelia. “Was it you who slew Sir Derrick?”

Esme started. But she could not afford to turn to Cordelia, as the einheri was suddenly twisting violently, curling into the previous leathery shape before dropping towards the ground. It landed heavily, then after an instant emerged as the terrible shape of the manticore. The strong lion limbs crawled on the forest floor, each claw as sharp and large as a dagger, at its rear a scorpion sting hung dripping with venom, poised to strike faster than aught sword stroke. And out of the flowy mane there peeked a terrible visage of something resembling human features but nastily scarred and horridly twisted.

“See what the son of a bitch did to this beautiful form! How dared he! How dare he did it to my strongest! My signature form! Yet he maimed it! Robbed it of the face! The face!”

Esme drew a breath and the beast hissed, turning to the blonde with hate. “And my leg!” it prowled about, limping, “He took my leg! It’s still recovering I think. But it’s bad. I think it will get better. But how am I to use this form till it heals like this! Not against bosses, no. But this is enough to destroy you weaklings, you grunts. I shall have my revenge! How about it, huh? I am majestic, and you will contribute to my growth to become the strongest! You ain’t seen nothing yet!”

“I have had enough of your dark speech, fiend!” Cordelia moved away from the fallen tree with an erect gait. “I shall slay you this day and rid the world of an evil!”

“Evil? Evil!” the einheri shrieked, “Are you stupid? I can’t believe someone so stupid can survive into adulthood! There’s no good and evil, only the strong and the weak! Don’t you know that? You should already know that!”

“Well,” said Galilea, “I was certainly expecting a cleverer rebuttal.”

“Silence, bitch! You are nothing but a side character!”

“That’s enough out of you!” With a roar Cordelia drew her sword. “By Gawain, may my sword be bloody!” It was a magnificent blade one hand span wide and as tall as her body. The sheer drawing of it brought a radiant ray through thick clouds and treetops to the sullen glade. Intricate runes ran down the sword’s length, containing passages of the magic uttered during the making of Camelot. Kingkeeper it is called, the sword bestowed to the Seneschal of the Realm by the High King Gunther himself, and which does not spring from its sheath but to defend the kingdom against evil and foes to the throne.

In the rustling of her strides, a cloak of silver gray streamed behind her, clinging to the steel pauldrons upon her broad shoulders. Suddenly she was tall and the steel that had now covered her body gleamed in the blessed light. Sabatons treaded boldly on the forest ground and upon the blue tabard a gray wolf silently howled, evincing the coming of the Knight Marquess of Argenton.

Heavy was the sword stroke, like lightning quick and brilliant. For a moment, the einheri stood aghast. It twitched, as though meaning to leap away, but the blade had connected before aught more than its head could move. Keen steel bit in the flesh, severed the mane and the ear of the turned away head. Its entire shoulder was cloven and dark fey blood spurted from the deep wound. And still the einheri stood rooted in place, in disbelief.

The greatswords lifted skywards, scattering the black blood and its foul smell to every part of the clearing. Blinding was the light it reflected and heavy did it cut through the air. Sir Kamaric’s armor groaned even as all his bodily weight went in for the second stroke.

Even then the einheri could not believe what was happening.

It would not be tricked.

Hysterical laughter checked Kamaric’s blade midair. The laugh was eerie and queer like the unearthly chanting of a witch under a full moon.

“Know you not the hour of your doom, fiend?” he said, “Not for the devil himself will you escape my retribution for haunting mine town and murdering my subjects.”

The creature laughed, even as blood dripped from its face and shoulder, even as it slumped under its own weight. Its eyes glinted full of mirth and malice, a combination only a monster of the faintest hint of humanity but little more could effect so well.

“Oh Cordelia,” cried the einheri, “what a fool you are! You wouldn’t think I had not looked up a quest’s information before attempting it, would you? Oh my, you pitiable noob! Even if I hadn’t known your class and abilities, surely I could not be so stupid as to not check your information first when I approached! Were you somehow under the impression that only you could do it or what? Oh my, you’re so stupid it's not even funny! But playtime’s over! Take off your pathetic illusion and prepare your heart on a platter, stupid bitch!”

And it gathered itself upon the nimble feline limbs, now lurched at knight at startling speed.