Born a Monster

Chapter 160: Servant of the Axe, 60 – Seeking Fenris

Servant of the Axe

Chapter 60

Seeking Fenris

I may have done a dis-service in implying that each island had one and only one distinguishing feature. This is, of course, false. The northern half of Lavin Buscala’s island hosted an old growth forest, the kind that is choked with underbrush, with areas where the sun just never reaches the ground.

This was the region where the Cousin of Fenris had made his lair.

There had been a number of attempts, both with and without the jarl, to bring the Fenris to heel. As a general rule, about one third of the hunters died. Sometimes the wolf was wounded, but more often, it was not.

It seemed to the islanders that the Fenris had magical abilities, to blend with wood or snow or fog, to shrug off normal weapons, and the fearsome ability to score critical hits.

.....

In other words, it had a stealth class, like Hunter. And something that helped to protect it, such as wards against mundane weapons. All of which pointed to a very smart, very resourceful prey.

Try as I might, I couldn’t think of the Fenris as an enemy. Well, it helped that THE Fenris, scion of the breed was supposedly a child of Loki, may a leaf attempt to smack him in the eye. But it was just another kind of folk, feared and hated by people, a being caught on the wrong side of the mythology of the Legendary Heroes.

And who were they, to have such an influence on our culture and history? Now that I knew that people native to Athal could wield the legendary weapons, it seemed to me...

“Narces, I had a thought.”

“That we’re running in circles and haven’t seen even a normal wolf? Yeah, I’ve had that same thought, boss.”

“No, I mean our world has some eight thousand years of recorded history.”

“No, Rhishi! Someone hit him in the eye. He needs to focus.”

“In all that time, why is Rakkal the first one to wield one of the Legendary Weapons? It seems like something people have been trying since they were first forged.”

Gamilla made a move to ram her spear butt into my eye, which I dodged. “ENOUGH! We have been here, wandering around, watching our food decrease for two days. Hunt something, if you’ve lost track of our prey.”

“I haven’t lost track of our prey. This is an area where the Fenris has looped around over its own trail, deliberately confusing its tracks.”

“So are we close or far?” Gamilla asked.

“I can make a case for either.” I said.

Madonna snorted, but she seemed oddly at peace since we’d entered the deep wood. “I concur. I have seen rabbits and pigs and birds, and there is enough food for the foxes and owls. Let us take a break from that, and eat a hot meal.”

My stomach grumbled.

“Good.” Said Kismet, “Then it’s decided.”

Narces and I sighted a deer, but returned to camp with only a startled coney rabbit to show for it.

“Huh. What’s a snow rabbit doing this far from the mountain?” Gamilla asked, as we set to butchering it.

#

It should have been a question we put more concern into, but we were busy carving out portions, and returning the heart to the land, and making a mess of the fur (we tried to clean it, but my new utility knife had a different edge than a skinning knife needed).

Oh, and the fetching and boiling of water, the chopping of herbs and vegetables, and the endless imbuing of energies required.

Nettles and pine seeds seemed to take and hold Ice mana, even when heated. Kismet and I liked the sensation, but the others of our party did not.

“Pig.” Kismet said, when we were washing out our dishes by the river.

“What do mean? I see no pig.”

“You’ve already eaten the entrails and organs.” She said. “Even the bones.”

“But I haven’t touched...” I sprinted off to the location, spotted the tracks.

“Looks fresh, boss.”

“It is.” I said. “Not more than twenty paces from where we were eating, so was the Fenris.”

“Wait.” Madonna said, “You mean that thing you’ve been tracking has actually been playing with us for these two days?”

“It’s probably watching us now, then.” Gamilla said.

“Yes, to both statements. The Fenris has watched us, taken our measure, and doesn’t consider us a threat.”

“So we’re just waiting for it to get hungry?” asked Dimmihammas. “As the person closest to bite-sized in this group, I don’t find that comforting at all.”

“Ancient wood, I am Rhishisikk, Shaman and worker of lumber, the corpses of your children. I seek only to partake of your being, to soak in the sensations of your existence. Commune With Nature.”

And by the gods, the wood was full of creatures, and plants. And, briefly, just briefly, one large wolf. Well, I had an ability that let me hide from Detect Animals, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised he had one, too.

“And?” Narces asked.

“Same Hunter ability I use to avoid detection by nature magic.” I said. “Close, that way. But I’d have moved by now.”

“So, no good.”

“It wouldn’t be good... if we were to continue hunting it as an animal, as a beast. Gamilla, you’re up.”

“Up? What do you mean, I’m up?”

“You’re the one of us skilled at hunting people. I know we’re looking for somewhere with food and water.”

Gamilla shrugged. “Purer water closer to the source. Back upstream, and uphill. Daring bastard, living closer to the lord hunting it, if that’s the case.”

Later that day, Narces cursed. “Second time I’ve seen him off to the left, but he’s gone by the time I string my bow.”

“If I’m right, Narces, it’s just trying to distract us now that we’re on its actual trail. It’ll get more violent as we get closer to its lair.”

“How comforting.” Dimmihammas said.

#

That night, we pitched camp by the river. In spite of promises, we noticed several places where the new seams leaked cold.

I looked at the paltry fish of the river, incredibly tiny. It was hard to believe there had been a time when I was smaller, and then when I had looked upon them as a full day’s nutrition.

“I can’t even tell what phase the moon is.” Narces complained, his bow safe in his bed. “I don’t mislike the spear, it’s saved my life time and again. But compared to my bow, it just... it’s not my BOW.”

“I think I understand.” And that was just how addictive a magically attuned bow was. How much greater must the sense of power be with a legendary weapon?

In theory, I knew how to make one. Just by saving up for the System Reticule ability, I had over a dozen development points. But... I really wanted that reticule.

Wait, had I become addicted to my System?

Well, I knew I was addicted to sleep. I could do without for one night, but usually that was all.

I dreamed that the Fenris snuck into our camp, took the head of Kismet or Dimmihammas into its jaws. I woke when it bit Kismet, but Dimmihammas bled a black whirlpool, in which stars died and the cold itself screamed in pain. It reached for me...

I couldn’t get back to sleep after that one. Partly because there wasn’t a sense of fear from his Taint, it was a feeling that could be summed up “at last”.

The ability to talk to my dream self wasn’t until Shaman level three; that was... maybe years? Actually, what class was closest to level two?

[Manservant: 1, 135/300 XP to level 2]

Of course. The first class I unlocked by doing things, the class I somehow needed but never wanted. And if I wanted to clean and scrub and mend things for the rest of my life, there were some pretty useful... wait...

[Dishpan Hands: Corrosive Resistance: 1. Protects from up to three points of Corrosive damage (single damage source).]

[Base cost: 6]

[Use Per Day cost: 1, minimum 1 UPD]

[Total cost: 7 (minimum)]

That was something that any worker in the chemical plant I had helped to build could have used. And it was just THERE, in a class unrelated to Industrialist.

But in any event, we made it up the side of the mountain.

“I smell death.” Gamilla said.

There was a cave, and the remains of a family of bears outside. The flies and insects were at work on what little remained.

“Oh dear.” I said.

“Yeah, things just got more complicated.” Gamilla said.

“How so?” Narces asked.

I walked forward toward the cave, as a dark black wolf pup came to the entrance and began barking at us.

“Because sometimes women will become warriors.” I said, “Or, when their children need food, hunters.”

“He’s so cute!” Kismet said, advancing with a piece of leftover coney from last night’s stew. “You want some meat, little guy?”

“Kismet, no!” I moved quickly enough to knock her aside.

“You ASS!” she cried, even as the mother Fenris clamped down on my extended arm, removing it at the elbow.

.....

#