But after a time, the flush began to wear thin, and I began to settle somewhat. The peaceful quiet of the forest helped, no doubt; there is something especially serene and tranquil about a forest in a light snowfall. The soft flakes drifted down between the bare branches, dampening all sound. I seemed like an interloper in this peaceful forest, as my feet rusled through the musty dead leaves and snapped fallen branches.
Eventually my leg began to throb, and I remembered that I had been wounded there. So I made camp as best I could and I began to set to dressing the wound. The cold helped; the skin around the wound was somewhat numb, and the wound, though it had bled at first, had stopped bleeding for a while.
But nevertheless my breeches had become fouled with blood, and the black fluid had become encrusted all over, snagging in the hairs of my legs and looking like a foul mess. I did my best to clean the wound, but all I had to do so with was cold water. Well, it had to do.
I had a canvas tarp that was part of the tent kit my audo carried, so I went about setting myself up under the boughs of a Black Pine tree. There is usually ample dry space under the bottom boughs for a person to sleep, and the mat of needles on the ground is not uncomfortable. So, with the tarp to shield me from any breeze, I dozed off.
Some uncomfortable feeling awoke me in the middle of the night and I got up with a start. Suddenly keenly aware, I looked about in the gloom for some sign of danger. Though I could see faintly through the boughs of the tree thanks to the light of She of the Veils, one of Kregen's moons, I could see nothing that might have bothered me. I held my breath, not sure what danger might have awakened me.
And then I heard it.
A quiet, snuffling sound could be heard out in the small clearing where I had stopped. Some beast was there, and was sniffing around. On closer inspection I could see some movement out there, but I could not quite make out what it was that was there.
I saw a large black beak, curved wickedly downwards, the beak of a predator. It was sniffing the spot where I had cleaned my leg, and I knew it must smell the blood. I knew then and there that whatever it was would not simply go away. It knew I was here... somewhere. And it intended to find me.
My hand closed quietly about the haft of my axe.
It would find me all right.
The trouble was, there was little headroom under the branches; there was a clearance of perhaps two feet. I needed to be able to jump out, and strike at this creature quickly. Unfortunately, I was lying down in a space where getting up was difficult. I tried to bend my legs back under me. A stabbing pain came to me from my left leg, where the crossbow bolt had gone through. I gasped.
The head of the beast outside turned quickly towards the tree.
I could see it clearly now in the gloom. The beast was a Skarvonth, a deadly predator of the north. They have the body of a large hunting cat, with six thick legs and large paws. Two inch retractable claws can spring from those paws, and they are razor sharp. The Skarvonth's fur is a silvery white, and it is often marked by silver, grey, or black stripes or spots. They hide well against the snow. The head of the Skarvonth is much like that of a bird; it has a large black beak for a mouth, a sharp eight inch beak that is said to be able to penetrate even plated armour.
I leapt.
Up and forward as best as I could manage, I smashed through the boughs of the tree and out towards the Skarvonth. I swung my axe wildly, blinded by the branches and snow that were going everywhere in a white explosion around me. I used my shield as a plough, knocking branches aside, making way for a body to pass through.
That shield saved my life.
With a sudden blow that knocked the breath out of me, before I could even see the Skarvonth a paw lashed out at me and struck the shield. Suddenly, I found myself airborne, tumbling head over heels. My back slammed against the bole of a tree, and I slumped down to the ground. I saw stars.
I still held my axe.
With a screech the Skarvonth leapt at me. Though I had flown about thirty feet it seemed it was upon me in an instant. I raised my shield just in time, and that cruel beak closed on the lip, biting a chunk of wood out. The weight of the Skarvonth against my shield nearly crushed me against the tree.
Somehow, I swung my axe. It bit, somewhere along the flank of the beast.
The screech turned into a squeal, and the Skarvonth reared back. I scampered around behind the tree. The Skarvonth hissed and me, evilly. I could see the wound I had left, along it's ribs. The bright red blood stood out starkly against the silver fur, and stained the snow on the ground. I didn't think I had done it any real damage.
The Skarvonth started to shuffle a bit to my left, so I moved to the right, keeping the tree between us. The Skarvonth tried gojng the other way, and afer a few laps seemed to get the idea that I wanted to keep the tree between us.
It stopped, staring at me. Sizing me up, perhaps. It's tail twitched back and forth. It blinked. Then, so did I.
Suddenly, the Skarvonth leapt at the tree, reaching around with it's paws. The right came around and smashed at my shield, knocking me back again, and scaping off paint. Then the left came around.
I swung the axe again, and as it struck the Skarvonth's paw it was nearly wrenched from my grasp. The Skarvonth squealed again, and reared back.
I still held my axe.
The silver beast eyed me again from behind the tree. It was favouring it's left paw. It hissed again, this time a lower, longer hiss. It started towards my right, this time, and I moved left. It kept going. So did I.
The Skarvonth's pace turned into a trot, and I realized it meant to race me around the tree. I moved in towards the tree, trying to keep it between me and him.
Suddenly, with a puff fo snow, the Skarvonth reversed direction. Caught unawares, I suddenly found myself without any cover. The Skarvonth leapt yet again. I tried to keep moving forward, and hoped I might be able to clear the path of the onrushing monster.
The Skarvonth's vicious paw raked down.
It caught me across the hip, and it raked across my flesh like hot razors. My side was aflame. I kept going.
The Skarvonth had ripped my breeches off!
I spun around, and with a desparate swing smashed downwards with my axe towards it's head, as he turned around to bite a piece out of me. The axe blade landed right between his eyes.
It bounced, with a "conk!" sound.
Well, a Skarvonth is notorious for having a hard head. But then, so am I.
The Skarvonth blinked, and shook it's head like a wet Ponsho-Trag. While it got it's bearings again, I realized that I once more had no cover. If you think you can't climb a tree with a shield on one arm and an axe on the other, you're quite mistaken. With a hungry Skarvonth behind you it's amazing what you can accomplish.
I scampered up the tree like a Grundal in mating season.
At about twenty feet up I figured I might be safe. Really, I was not especially interested in a fight to the death. I just wanted this noisome beast to go away. But really, at this stage I didn't expect it to go anywhere, unless I was going to send it to the Ice Floes of Sicce myself.
Well, if I had to, I would. I am not about to let a wild beast eat me, no matter how spendid it is. Not while I still have breath in me.
The Skarvonth looked up at me in the tree. He snorted. He then started looking around the base of the tree, perhaps looking for a way up. I don't know.
He placed a forepaw on the tree. Then the other. He was coming up!
I knew that If I was to end this, I would have to hit him somewhere vulnerable, like an eye, or a neck, or perhaps the belly. The Skarvonth has thick, heavy bones, and strong muscles, and I was not going to be able to hack my way through the ribcage or the skull. He was not likely to keep still while I tried.
The beast came up. His middle legs left the ground, and he stood on his hind legs, slowly feeling his way up the trunk. Eventually he was stretched his full length, and he tried swiping at me with his claws; they were still about four feet below me. Still, that was getting uncomfortable.
The Skarvonth's hind legs are made for pushing forwards, and not upwards, but he revealed to me that he was capable of jumping at least a little when the beast lurched upward towards me clumsily. A paw raked out and smashed downwards at the branch I crouched on.
It snapped.
"Pynzar's Ghost! You misbegotten son of a whore!" I shouted, as I clung to the tree trunk. Again I scampered upwards, not wanting to stay within the reach of those razor sharp claws.
The Skarvonth leapt upwards again, and nearly shook me loose as his head smashed against the bole of the tree. Then, with another short hop, the Skarvonth leapt into the tree. The Skarvonth was climbing!
The body of a Skarvonth is not really made for such adventures, but this particular one was determined to make me his supper. Clumsily it pawed its way upward, screeching like rocks being dragged over one another. It's beak snapped at my heels.
Now, a proper Urndrinner war axe has a wide blade for cleaving. But pointing in the other direction there is usually a long beak, perhaps four to six inches long, sharp and narrow. The object of such a pick is to pierce armor such as mail, and when used right they can pull a mounted man off his animal.
My axe had such a beak.
Like a golfer, I swung the axe underhand, driving it down and forward. The beak of my axe plunged into the neck of the Skarvonth.
A horrid screech cut the air, and the Skarvonth shook wildly. While it's lower and middle legs still clung to the tree, the upper pair flailed wildly, and the Skarvonth arched it's back. The wrenching motion nearly tore the axe from my grip. The tree bent forwards with the weight of the Skarvonth.
The Skarvonth fell, and suddenly I was airborne again, as the tree snapped back upright, and I was flung out bodily.
I hit another tree, and smashed many branches on my way down. The tree lashed at me as I plunged through it's branches, and angry welts appeared acroos my face and body. I crashed to the ground in a heap of twigs and snow.
I shook myself, and stood up feebly. It felt like I might have twisted an ankle, and I was covered with bruises. the Skarvonth was some distance away, and it was not dead; it squealed and thrashed about on it's back, pawing at it's throat.
I still held the axe. But the beak had broken off, and was probably still lodged in the moster's throat.
The Skarvonth righted itself, and it stood up, facing away from me. For a moment, I thought it would run off into the woods. But it turned around, it's beak wide open. Blood gouted from it's wound, and blood rand out of it's mouth. It hacked and wheezed. I knew it was done for. And perhaps, so did it.
With a flurry of snow and blood, it galloped towards me, it's legs pumping wildly. It's eyes were half closed. I ran to one side, and the Skarvonth turned to follow, sliding in the snow. It lashed out at me with it's front paws, and then it reared, flaiiling about wildly with it's front four legs, a tornado of claws and fur and blood.
I rolled left under a lashing paw, and stood. For a moment, there was an opening, and in a long reaching swing I summoned what remaining strength I had. The axe scythed upwards, and plunged into the beast's neck.
The monster's head did not come off. Not quite.
Silent now, the Skarvonth fell forwards into the snow, lifeless and still. It's blood formed a pool in the snow.
I reached down, and stroked it's soft, silver fur. It had really been a beautiful creature.
Among my people, it is a tradition of hunters that when a man first kills a particular beast, the man must then drink the blood of the animal. With cupped hands, I took some blood of the Skarvonth, and I drank, the hot salty liquid pouring into my throat, mingled with my own blood. A fire passed into my stomach, and I felt a strange power overtake me.
I had conquered the Skarvonth.
Chapter 1: Sygar and I make the Pappatu
Chapter 2: Language Lessons
Chapter 3: A Long Way from Home
Chapter 4: The Road to Raviksmot
Chapter 5: The Battle of the Barrels
Chapter 6: Wrangling
Chapter 7: Saved by the Bell
Chapter 8: I am Invited to Dinner