NOVEL NEXT Chapter Thirty-Five: Crow-Hounds
As the first day began drawing to a close, a sudden shift in the weather surprised the traveling adventurers. A wave of heat and humidity washed over the surroundings and caused the travelers to sweat beneath their cloaks, robes, and armor.
Even the sporadic rain showers failed to cool them off.
Raven-black hair plastered itself down Autumn’s neck and across her face. She’d lost count of how many times she’d had to wipe herself clean as she lamented not learning the cleaning charm before.
Although thinking about it, she’d probably run out of magic rather swiftly.
Already she’d had to strip off her heavy robes and was now down to a tunic that clung to her frame.
Poor Pyre seemed to have it worst of all. Her natural flame was being treated unkindly by the rise in humidity. The girl lay limply against the side of the wagon as her flaming hair drooped sadly.
Luckily, the convoy soon called an end to the day’s journey. With the sun still in the sky, they pulled into a relatively dry culvert protected from the winds. The seven wagons circled up to create a protective ring and a large water-proofed sheet of leather stretched out overtop and anchored to a central pole to make a tented area.
The gentle rhythmic sounds of rainfall upon the leather were soothing as the groups set up.
Off to the side, an enormous bonfire was speedily built with dry firewood for the cremation of the fallen they had collected. They held a somber and quiet farewell for those they didn’t know. Autumn helped the best she could, but she honestly didn’t feel like it was her place.
A splash of Alchemist’s Fire from Pyre lit the bonfire into a conflagration that ignored the fall of rain. It was a beacon of fire that lit up the night for a time; a reminder of the cruelty of Autumn’s new world.
Once the fire was well underway, the groups drifted back to their respective camps to set up tents and cook-fires beneath the awning. At the very top of the stitched together leather covering, a hole allowed the rising smoke to escape.
Since Nethlia was the only skilled cook in the group, she cheerfully took it upon herself to prepare the evening’s meal for their party, with only minor help from the others.
With little to do, Autumn helped secure the campsite, namely with her wards of alarm.
With a spool of magic-laced hair in hand, Autumn ventured along the sides of the camp to string up tripwires between the small openings between the wagons. However, this meant to her misfortune that she had to interact with the other parties, as they were unlikely to just ignore a witch creeping about their wagons.
“So you say this is an alarm? Fascinating.”
The bard captain Gilralei Rainguard brushed her long blond locks back behind her elven ears as she crouched beside Autumn. Her sparkling blue eyes glittered in fascination as examined the violet magic that enshrouded the thin tripwire, making it nearly invisible in the shadows.
“Umm…yes it is. It’ll emit a loud shrieking noise if crossed, so be careful.”
“That’ll wake us up for sure! It’ll be amusing if one of us tripped it while trying to take a piss, haha!”
The elven bard gave a melodic laugh as she imagined the sight.
“How about I introduce you to the rest of my crew while I let them know?”
Gilralei practically dragged Autumn back to her camp. Not that it was far from where they were standing. She didn’t even need to tell them about the tripwires as they had heard about it from her loud laughter.
Still, she introduced Autumn to her bardic crew.
“The Inferni over by the cooking pot is Ralkix. He’s got great vocal range but is a terrible cook. I don’t know why we left him in charge of the meals.”
The demon in question made a rude gesture back toward the bard captain. “That’s ‘cause nobody else in this group can cook either. Don’t mind the captain, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
A Lepus bard in flowing robes sat nearby on a stool as he sharpened a sleek shortsword. Without breaking his gaze from his weapon, he spoke up.
“Gérôme Lemaître at your service, don’t let the captain talk you into lending her anything. She’s no good for it.”
“Betrayal! Bunch of ingrates! This is how you repay me!”
She playfully shook her fist at the two.
Moving on from them, she gestured over to a pair of elves; a man and woman, who were going over what looked like sheet music. The pair were a different race of elf than the captain. While she had a natural golden skin tone and bright eyes, these two had skin the color of bark and darker hair the color of leaves.
“Vuriac Oakwind is the man and Leshana Laurent is the woman. They’ve come down from Everbloom Enclave up north.”
The pair looked up at their names and gave a friendly wave before going back to their music.
“Now, where are the other two? Aha! There they are.” Gilralei gestured to a pair of girls exiting the wagon. “The Inferni dancer in the revealing attire is called Delight, and she is one, mind you, while the lovely little Felis is Watabe Eme.”
Hearing her name, the catgirl’s ears twitched towards the captain. Looking over, she shyly waved at Autumn before scurrying off towards one tent and ducking inside.
“Don’t mind her. She is very shy. Well, that’s everyone. I’ll let you get on your way unless there’s anything else?”
Autumn shook her head in reply before bidding farewell and moved on to setting up the other triplines. Thankfully for her dwindling supply of social energy, the groups weren’t as overwhelmingly hospitable. Once she had explained herself to their respective captains, they left her to set up in peace.
Returning to the safety of her party’s campsite, Autumn got to enjoy a hearty broth of meats and vegetables. Liddie offered up a swing from her hip-flask that contained strong alcohol that tasted like moss covered in sugar. It left Autumn coughing and spluttering as the burn traveled down her throat.
“First taste of Mosswine, ehh?” Liddie chuckled at Autumn’s expression of disgust. “It grows on ya. Get it? Grow on ya!”
Autumn’s look of disgust switched targets with that awful pun.
Luckily for her, she didn’t have to bear Liddie’s humor for long as the night descended upon the world; however, the heat and humidity of the day still lingered far into the night.
High in the sky, two moons hung amongst the twinkling of stars and red nebulae. The greater moon had just had a new moon only a few days ago and now was shifting into a waxing crescent while its smaller brother bore a waning gibbous. Consulting her handy calendar, Autumn saw the pair were expected to both be full moons in around eleven days.
As she took the first watch and the others bedded down for the night, she wondered what kind of effect that’d have, if any, upon a world of magic. On Earth, the moon has often been associated with the supernatural and witchcraft. Maybe it was the same here?
Shifting thoughts, she lent a sliver of magic to her eyes and scanned the gloom for anything strange.
Only the lonely hoot of owls accompanied her in her vigil.
As the twilight murk rolled on, Autumn’s watch came to an uneventful end. Slipping back into camp she awoke another member before finding her way to her tent. The heat still stuck to her skin as hot sweat rolled down her back.
With her head on the pillow, she began to dream once more. However, just as her dreams began to swirl into being, an ear-splitting shriek of terror jolted Autumn from her slumber.
Something or someone had crossed her tripwire.
Bolting upright, Autumn hurriedly retrieved her wand and knife as sounds of alarm echoed through the camp alongside a haunting chirping growl. In a rush, Autumn scrambled out of her tent and into the darkened campsite. Scouring around her for enemies, Autumn caught sight of a feather and furred mass just before it collided with her and bore her to the ground.
Autumn shoved her right forearm up against the creature’s throat. A razor-sharp beak snapped at her head. Heavy paws pressed her body into the dirt as it nipped and bit. A violent smell of rotten meat and the Feywild invaded her nostrils as she fought. Yet there was something different about it, something twisted.
Gagging against the rottenness, Autumn plunged her knife upwards. The keen edge slid deep between an odd mixture of feathers and fur, and as iron met flesh, the creature burned as if touched by acid. Hot blood slicked her hand as she carved into the beast. A new, horrid smell of boiling flesh coated the air as its body rejected the metal. The fae creature chirped and yelped in agony, bucking and rocking as it attempted to escape the witch bearing the hatred of iron.
Under the moonlight, it was fully revealed.
A bird-like head glared at Autumn with two pairs of solid red eyes. It resembled the Dire-crows she’d seen earlier, only this one was attached to a skinny body of a black-furred hound. Four enormous paws trembled in pain as the creature limped around Autumn, wary of the iron blade.
The Crow-hound tensed before it leapt once again with beak wide open. Still laying under the wet ground, Autumn braced herself. Yet, before it could land, a devastating swing of an iron pole-hammer caught it in the side, sending it flying with a sound of cracking bones. The beast tumbled through the air before coming down hard upon a tent. Entangled, it was easy prey to the rage of a berserker.
A roar ripped free of an enraged Nethlia. Adrenaline-fueled blood coursed heavily through her veins as she stood proud and defiant above her witch. A protector, a weapon. Sweat and rain steamed off her heated form as she panted.
Autumn scrambled to her feet as her heart beat a wild rhythm within her chest. Everywhere she looked there were adventurers battling the fae-beasts with sword, spell, or song.
Without the element of surprise, it wasn’t going well for the Crow-hounds. Despite all their viciousness, they proved to be extremely weak, their body unable to withstand even the weakest of blows. Quickly, they were being driven back. However, with only low embers and clouded moonlight as a guide, they were becoming harder to spot.
These were beastly scavengers and prowlers of the night, ambushers of the unaware.
Violent violet bolts lashed out from Autumn’s wand to disappear into the darkness, few struck true.
In the end, it was Pyre who was the one that drove the final nail into the Crow-hound’s coffin. Emerging from her own conflict, the girl fumbled with her potion bag, withdrawing a glass globe holding a golden liquid inside. After giving it a violent shake, Pyre tossed it out and into the center of the clearing where it impacted hard into the packed dirt.
Suddenly the contents reacted, turning the night into day.
The Crow-hounds shrieked as their sensitive eyes were assaulted. Unwilling to let such an opportunity pass them by, the well-experienced members pounced upon their distracted foes. Spared from the blinding light as their backs were to it, they had a clean advantage over the beasts, and before long the threat was ended.
Silence descended upon them once more but for the clink of armor and the desperate heaving of lungs.
The demoness berserker spun in place, weapon clenched tightly and eyes darting about for fresh prey. Rage pulsed within her veins and clouded her mind. Before her stood her witch, unharmed but for a few scratches. A growl rumbled within her throat, but she wrestled with it, pulling back the desire to shout at the girl. Seeing her pinned beneath that creature had filled her with fright.
With calming breaths, the berserker pulled herself back from the brink and became Nethlia once more.
“Good thinking there Pyre, and you as well Autumn. Those alarms really saved us. ”
Autumn and Pyre blushed somewhat under the unexpected praise.
Edwyn clambered over to their party, dodging the fallen bestial bodies. “Sorry captain, thay git right by me.”
It had been the runecaster’s turn on watch. However, none of the other watchers had spotted the beast’s approach either, so they were hardly solely to blame. The fact still didn’t quell the self-blame within the Manus’ eyes.
“It happens sometimes. There are always beasts who can surprise us, that’s why we have backup plans. Good work everyone. Now, shall we go see what the other captains are talking about?”
