The plan was simple. Or about as simple as most things were. So really not that simple? He wondered why that was even a word to begin with. Verlon was getting off track. Right, the plan. Wait for the beast to get back. Ambush it. Profit. Well, maybe not that last part depending on what it was, but Verlon and Stefen would ensure their night’s rest at the very least.
It took about an hour to shore up their defenses. Nothing complicated, just a trench around the central crater, and the walls sat a couple feet higher. Realistically, it wouldn’t do much if and when they were attacked. It was more so to protect themselves from rogue tree branch projectiles than anything. It helped calm his nerves to be doing something productive rather than just nervously waiting. What was that saying? Two flies one smack? That didn't sound right...
Verlon personally would’ve liked to dig more trenches, but reason won out in the end. There was no telling when the beast would return, and it was a poor idea to be caught with his shovel out. At best, he would blow through the charges of his boots just to reset his positioning. At worst, he would get killed before he could react.
Light slowly faded as the sun set far beyond the clouds of steam billowing out of the trees. As night came, the surroundings grew several times hotter. The very air itself seemed to ache with boiling heat. Even a ways off from the forest, he still felt the draining heat.
The once ashen gray trees began to change, a slow gradual shift at first but picking up speed as the light faded. Red lines, almost like veins, slowly became more evident under the gray bark. They thrummed and pulsed with faint light, causing the entire bank of steam to glow with eerie crimson.
If the nightly changes in the Steamglade were just light, he wouldn’t have been so apprehensive about traveling in the forest of steam. The issue arose as the noise of a thousand whistles became constant. The rates at which the forest released the built-up steam doubled, if not tripled when night fell. Traveling at night was practically suicidal, which was why clearings were such a big deal in the Steamglade.
Verlon, and every other Seeker as far as he knew, had no clue as to why the heat and steam became more oppressive at night. Logically speaking, the Steamglade’s temperatures should’ve dropped with the sun. It was one of the mysteries that plagued the lands beyond the empire. There may never be an answer.
Still, he occasionally wondered about it. Why is the environment the way it is? That question went for every contamination zone he passed through. Why? What even is the miasma that pollutes the land? His various notebooks were filled with just as many ideas and questions as actual research notes about the various things he came across.
There were all kinds of theories, of course, though he didn’t take any for certain as some did. Some suggested the miasma was a curse laid upon humanity due to their sins. Others thought it was some kind of radioactive isotope that forced genetic degradation, whatever that meant. Quite a few blamed the ancient civilization as if the miasma was their fault. Some wackjobs even worshiped the miasma as an ‘evolutionary agent’ and promoted the idea it was a benevolent existence.
Realistically, the answers to his questions were far above his pay grade. Maybe when he progressed further through the ranks of Seekers he would be able to find answers. For now, though, it was a nice time waster to theorize about the cause and effect of Endenheim. Most of his theories were just for fun and didn't hold any weight behind them. Afterall, focusing on specific ideas could cause him to miss the broad image.
Verlon shook his head. He was getting distracted, as one would after being on watch for nearly an hour. He had really expected the beast to have returned by now, and yet neither of the yellow-rank Seekers had spotted even a glimpse. There was the occasional shadow illuminated by the red glow of the steam, though they tended to pass on rapidly even if they were the suspected shape and form of the beast. The creatures that left the shadows were rather brave to face the explosive steam might of the forest.
He scanned the tree line once again, using the red glow to spot the gaps in between trees. He had been on edge for the past while, his instincts warning him of danger as they usually did. His hair stood on end as he patiently waited alongside Stefen. Neither one of them spoke, almost as if to keep the status quo.
Like all things, the tense air had to end. Or at least that's what Stefen must’ve thought as he stood up, drawing Verlon’s attention. His voice was loud, possibly booming if they were in any other place than the Steamglade. “Hey, have you spotted anything?”
Verlon turned back to his side of the forest, eyeing the occasional shadow in the steam. “Nothing 'cept shadows.”
“Maybe it saw us and ran off?” Stefen didn’t look the least bit convinced in his own theory.
The young man shrugged as he rested his hand on his rifle. “Or maybe it saw us and is waiting till our guard is down.”
“I was afraid of that… assuming it's lurking out there, should we… bait it out? Otherwise, we might wait the entire night for nothing.” Stefen asked with a smirk on his face.
Verlon turned to him, briefly looking away from the forest. It was an interesting proposition, though not one he would've come up with. “Oh?”
“If we pretend to fight, it might try to swoop in. Of course, nothing could happen anyway, but it would be so nice to get this over with now. I need my beauty sleep.”
It was a decent plan. The only issue he could see was if they didn’t recover quickly enough from their ‘fight’ and it closed the gap before they could pump some iron into it. Of course, they could just remain patiently waiting. His nerves were already shattered from the trek through the Steamglade however, and he needed some rest. As his temporary companion said, they might end up waiting the entire night at this rate. “Let's do it.”
Stefen smiled a bit before an angry expression crossed his face. He roared loud enough to be heard from across the clearing. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he threw a slow punch at Verlon. The punch didn't show nearly as much strength as the bruiser actually possessed based on his weapon of choice.
Verlon dodged to the side, punching back without any force. Stefen received the hit, flinching back as if he got hit by a freight train. He grabbed at the side of the crater and pulled his longsword from his bag. In a clearly choreographed move, he swiped and fell short of Verlon, digging into the dirt.
He let out a fake scream as the sword 'hit' him. Right as he reached for his shortsword, he noticed a shadow move into the red ambiance. It was rather large and looked to be similar to a few shadows he had seen previously. The shadow didn’t move, observing them from the sidelines. Whatever it was still wasn't convinced.
He briefly considered shooting it, but if he didn’t kill the beast in one hit it would escape into the forest. He would have to wait for it to close in further. He motioned with his head towards the shadowy form and continued to draw his shortsword. In a rather slow movement, he brought the sword down in an overhead slash.
Stefen nodded subtly then met the slash, their blades meeting with a loud screech as sparks flew. They clashed a couple more times as he kept his eyes peeled towards the shadow. It was slowly approaching, seemingly growing in confidence as they fought. Soon its entire form would be revealed.
In a particularly brutal slash, Verlon let himself be thrown back towards his rifle as he slammed into the ground. He raised a weak hand in the air, channeling his frayed nerves as he slightly shook. “No, please!”
Stefen smirked as he raised his sword. “It's the end of the line, kid.” Then he slammed it down just off to his side in a spray of dirt. Verlon ‘kicked’ him in the chest, launching the bruiser with the blade in hand to the other side of the crater. It was at that moment he heard a feral growl from his back.
He popped up, rifle in hand as his eyes glanced around in pure concentration. The beast was fully out of the steam, already halfway towards the central crater. Contrary to what he was expecting, it was neither a Stormhound nor a Stelf.
It looked closer to a bipedal monster moving on four legs rather than a quadruped mutant. Its front forelimbs were long and gangly, covered in bits of fur. Dark gray, leathery skin showed in other parts almost like it had been shaved. Its front limbs awkwardly scrambled in the squishy dirt as it propelled its horse-sized body forward. It was covered in thick fur around its torso that sparked like a Stormhound’s. Its fur was matted, sculpted to its muscular flesh with what looked to be gallons of blood. A long barbed tongue sat outside of its muzzle, revealing several razor-sharp teeth crackling with a golden light.
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His observations barely took a millisecond before he fired. The Kar98 recoiled, slamming into his shoulder as the bullet sprang forth. The bullet hit the beast in the side as it attempted to lunge away. It grunted and let out an ear-splitting noise somewhere in between a howl and a scream as the lightning along its fur grew brighter.
Verlon had enough time to rack back the bolt and fire one more time before the beast reached the crater. His second shot met a spark of light as the beast emitted an arc of electricity from its fur. The steam carried the arc as a perfect conductor, melting his bullet as it slightly jolted him. He racked back his bolt one last time as the beast bounded up the mud slope without missing a beat.
The beast was rather easy to read, as most mindless murder machines were. It would without a doubt lunge as soon as it got in range. He preemptively dodged to the side instead of shooting again, activating his boots with a mental impulse. One of the three lights on the rims of his shoes flashed. Compressed steam blasted below him, sending him clear to the opposite side of the crater. He slammed hard into the ground, a few bone shards digging into his skin but otherwise unharmed.
The beast lunged forward into the area he just stood in. Electricity flashed everywhere as it clamped its massive jaws onto thin air with a confused look in its beady black eyes.
Stefen opened fire as soon as the beast got over the edge while it was recovering from its missed attack. In the short second of recovery, he held down his MP18’s trigger. Verlon counted at least ten shots, though most met the electrical shielding that stopped his previous round. Three or four bullets made it through, piercing through the chest of the creature in a shower of blood.
That drew the ire of the beast, its ravenous eyes locking onto Stefen as it lunged for him, completely forgetting about its initial target. Verlon pulled out of his dodge, ignoring the bone fragments, and fired once more. His rifle boomed as the bullet exited the barrel, flying towards the side of the beast's head. Right before it connected, a weak bolt of electricity deflected the shot, but it was already too close. The bullet struck the top side of its head, taking off one of its ears and skimming off a chunk of its flesh.
While it was lunging, Stefen dropped his gun and brought his sword up, bracing it like a spearman meeting calvary. The wolf beast, distracted by its blooming pain and sudden tinnitus, couldn’t react in time as its force impaled itself halfway through the chest. It would’ve gone further, but its long front limbs caught on the sides of the crater at the very last moment. The beast reared back its head to chomp onto the bruiser as electricity gathered, sending a jolt through the steam as it covered the beast’s teeth with its yellow arc.
Verlon’s years of experience and training came back to him as he smoothly rechambered a round without rushing no matter how much he wanted to. He moved with steel in his gaze, completely hiding the fact his heart pounded with adrenaline. He didn’t shake or waver as he lined up his sights and fired once more, shattering through the creature’s head in a spray of gray matter just before it could chomp onto his companion- Or at least, that's what should’ve happened. Right before his shot could connect, the electricity along the beast’s fur bloomed into a nova of light, blinding him.
His vision recovered just in time to see weekly glowing claws aimed at his chest. Verlon attempted to dodge as he used his rifle like a shield, deflecting the attack off to the side. A screech of metal sounded as the beast’s electrified claws met the barrel, sending arcs of electricity up its length and into his arm. His entire arm fell numb as he lost control of it, dropping his rifle into the muddy ground as he catapulted to the side with the strength of the beast's blow.
Verlon reacted quickly as he looked about the battle site. Stefen had just gotten off the ground and was about to make a move, the creature was shaking its head as its feral glare met his own eyes, and he was numb in one arm without his rifle. In an instant, his hand dropped to his holster and pulled his revolver out. He didn’t even aim, just pulled the trigger as soon as it was in the beast’s general direction.
The last attack seemed to have drained most of its electrical charge as it dodged instead of zapping the bullets, or at least attempted to. It couldn’t move faster than a bullet and ate three rounds into its nasty fur. While it was stuck dodging, Stefen closed the gap and brought his longsword downward with a furious shout. The creature flinched, its long arms flexing as the ambient electricity on its fur gathered for a final defense, arcing up toward the sword. It connected, arcing through the blade and into the bruiser. And yet, he continued his chop with little more than an anguished cry cutting deep into the beast's back.
Seeing his moment, Verlon aimed and squeezed the trigger several times. He emptied the rest of his revolver’s rounds into the beast’s head. Its electrical defenses were still arcing up into his temporary companion and it was held by the blade lodged in its back, so it couldn’t move as the last three shots connected with its face. The entire top half of its head blew off in a rain of gray matter as its massive body dropped to the ground.
Stefen panted as he shakily pulled his blade free. “Well,” he paused to take in a rasp of air. “That went well.”
Verlon checked his companion’s condition. He was covered in blood, though none of it seemed like it was his own. His arms both looked numb, the same as his right arm. Thankfully, the electrical currents weren’t too strong and they would probably recover in a couple of hours. It didn't have near the power of a normal Stormhound.
“It went better than I thought.” He had expected shit to hit the fan when the beast was something he couldn’t recognize. Getting out with no major injuries was a major win in his book.
Stefen prodded the corpse with the tip of his blade, causing remnant static to arc off. “What even is this thing?”
Verlon had no idea. It was similar to a Stormhound with its electrical abilities, yet looked nothing like the Stormhounds he had seen and was far weaker. Even most mutants fit in fairly close with the rest of their species, so he just couldn't wrap his head around how this thing came from a Stromhound.
The young man approached the beast and rolled it over onto his side with the help of Stefen. It reeked of old blood and ozone and his hand came back covered in flakes of blood. It almost looked humanoid with the way its body was proportioned. Even its legs weren’t quite digitigrade like a normal lupine. They arched forward like a kneecap.
“Fuck! You see that?” Stefen’s face warped with an odd mixture of rage and incredulity as he pointed toward the thing's neck.
Verlon couldn’t blame him as he saw a tattered green cross barely squeezing around the beast's thick neck. He could only sigh as he realized what was going on and why it didn’t look familiar. The beast was a Fallen.
The true destructive force of miasma twisted and deceived a person’s mind, turning them into psychopaths or worse as they were exposed to its influence. This was part of the reason the empire was quite strict with Seekers, as there was no telling when one might just snap. If a person, already mentally warped by the dark corruption, continued to be exposed without treatment? Cases such as this happened, where their entire bodies shifted into monstrous forms. These new monstrosities molded from humans were known as the Fallen.
Verlon wasn’t quite sure how the forms of the Fallen came to be. Maybe it was based on genetics? The miasma perverted their very cells, causing their genetics to mutate into abominable forms. And yet, there was the influence of Stormhounds in this Fallen’s corpse, so maybe it was based on the environment? It was yet another question he didn’t have an answer to, and likely wouldn’t find one either.
“Fallen.” Verlon reached for the green cross, only to stop as Stefen put his bloody hand on his shoulder.
“You’re going to take this- this thing’s cross back? Fallen don’t deserve such an honor.” The sneer was evident on his face as he glared down at the fresh corpse.
Verlon continued, ignoring the man, and broke the chain as he pulled off the green cross. “A Seeker is a Seeker, no matter how they fall.” The backside of the cross had “Winslow Reindim” on the back of it.
Stefen frowned as he pulled away. A sigh left his lips shortly after as he backed off with his hands partially up. “You’re right, you’re right. Sorry. I just… I lost a good friend of mine to a Miac Fallen.”
“I’m sorry.” Miac Fallen weren’t just any fallen. They were members of the Miac cult, humans who worshiped the miasma like it was some sort of divine entity. They were outcasts among outcasts, and the empire had a massive standing bounty for Miac cultists.
The problem with the Miac Cult was how they went about their worship. They either tried to bring miasma into the pure lands of the empire or intentionally sought out high sources of miasma to become Fallen. It was supposedly a great honor to be ‘evolved’ by the contaminative source and turned into a mindless beast.
They were both silent for a time as they cleaned up the battle damage. Verlon plucked the bone shards from his skin, careful to wash the wounds off and thoroughly clean each one. They were just small pinpricks, but he didn't want to get some kind of disease from the bones. Stefen made a good attempt to wash the blood off of himself, and to clean up his weapon. He still looked pink, but it wasn’t quite as bad. “Well… we should probably have a watch tonight. This beast is dead, but others might take the opportunity to move in.”
Verlon nodded as he cleared out a spot at the top of the crater wall. “I’ll take first watch.” He checked his pocket watch, barely able to see the numbers thanks to the ambient glow of the Steamglade. “I’ll wake you up in a couple hours.”
“If you insist.” Stefen didn’t hesitate to clean out a spot on the ground and plop himself down. Within a minute, his breathing evened out.
The young man laughed lightly to himself as he glanced around. He would’ve much rather had the last watch, but he had things he needed to do and they wouldn’t wait for him. The first thing he did was clean and reload his rifle. He had dropped it right into the mud when his arm was paralyzed. It would probably still shoot and be fine, but he didn’t want to risk the weapon jamming when he needed to shoot it.
He also did some maintenance on his revolver before pulling out his journal. This was the true reason he wanted the first watch so he could have time to document all that happened while it was still fresh in his head. He sketched out the shape of the beast in several angles before writing down where they found it, what its abilities were, and a few other small notes in the dim light of the Steamglade.