10th Bell - 19th Day of Fall, 517AV - Outskirts of Endrykas
He should have been afraid, and for a few ticks, he was. But the fear was mingled with surprise, the sheer shock of seeing such creatures squatting over and around and atop the bed of desiccated animal. The gore and gruel of corpses was thick around their maws, their clawed hands, spewed down their chests like red vests rendered unto tatters.
Such a sight would clench at any man's heart, and Konrad was no different. But it did not last. Not even the space of five breaths.
Anger followed. Burning, heated, raging only hotter when the creatures realized they were not alone. First one and then all snapped their eyes to him, a clutch of monsters, hewn from rock and dirt, geology dotted and carved into their hides. Shrunken genitals hung limp below their legs, and for one insane half-tick, Konrad wondered if they even used them.
One of them hissed. Not the Apha. Not big enough. Then the sound was taken up and a familiar yuk-yuk-yuk chorus came vomiting up from four mouths. What hellish innards could create that sound? What crime could be wrought for Caiyha to send such daemons as punishment?
Or maybe they are the punished.
His arrow and bow clattered to the ground, abandoned in favor of his kopis. He'd seen one of these things take a quarrel from a heavy crossbow at close range and keep on charging. His hunting arrow wouldn't do much better, unless he got it right in the eye, which was unlikely.
Stick to what you know.
They rose, and advanced in that shambling, stooped, jerky way of theirs. Endless chatter of yuk-yuk-yuk growing louder, so much it seemed like a single voice. Which wouldn't have surprised Konrad: from what he'd seen, they all seemed to be talking to each other mentally at the same time. Savage in act and hideous in form, but as far as communication went, hells, they didn't even need words.
Maybe. But they're still bastards. And they're still mortal.
"A'right," he said, voice retaining just a hint of a swagger, that spoke of those pregnant moments before the tavern exploded in many a Sunberth brawl. He spat to one side and clenched his kopis... and filled his other hand with his kukri. "S'geddon with it, yeh cunnies."
YUYUKYUKYUKYUKYUKYUK!
They burst into a run, and Konrad charged in to meet them. The leader lurched ahead, swinging at his head with a hand clawed like a bear, and Konrad-
-dropped down to one knee, swinging his kopis as he went-
-curved blade, designed to cleave and chop, slicing the thing's leg off at the knee, sending it screeching down to the ground, stump spewing black blood that smelled beyond foul-
-a second creature came within ranger and Konrad slashed up with his kukri, warding off the clawed hand that tried to lay his face open. The Yukman shrieked and yanked back it's hand, dirt-covered fingers now hanging limp and loose from its palm-
Don't give them a moment, that's all they need.
-and with a savage yell Konrad thrist the kopis up and forward, into the thing's stomach, jerking back up to his feet and yanking the blade up with him-
-steel ripping through whatever in the hells it was made of, scraping against rock and stone, black blood pouring from the gaping hole it made-
-until he kicked between it's legs and cursed the fountain of black gore that soaked his breeches. He yanked his sword free, and the creature toppled back, clutching it's crotch even as it's... guts, for want of a better word, poured from the hole in it's stomach.
Two more, and they had no fear. Their kind didn't seem to understand what that was. They came on and on through volleys of missiles, through magic, through clubs and maces and swords and spears. When they were all dead, they were beaten. Not before. These two were no different, and Konrad lashed out in a wild, horizontal swing with his sword-
Keep them back, but a moment.
-but he wouldn't get a moment. The kopis cleaved into the ribs of a monster but the blade stuck there, caught between mutated bones and thick rocks. He tried to yank it out even as the beast shrieked, but before he could-
-the last one tackled him to the ground, claws already raking his sides, knocking him onto his back and-
-Konrad roared and jammed his kukri into it's throat. Didn't even bother trying to disarm him first. These were clearly new, barely out of their holes. They'd been lucky enough to find the prey his trap had caught earlier, wounded and crippled, still dragging around the wire snare it had yanked out of the ground. But they didn't have to fight, hadn't learned anything.
Especially not about someone like Konrad.
"Away to shyke w'ye!"
There was a hideous, unnatural, ripping and raking sound. Like yanking the kukri through both flesh and dirt. He pulled it forward, towards him, ripping out the Yukman's throat, nearly taking it's head off-
-and a deluge of pitch ichor nearly drowned him, then the dead weight of the monster crushed him, and he could hear the last one, still snarling, still struggling, and he pushed and forced and-
-by the time he pushed the damned corpse off him, the last one was right there. Looking down at him with his kopis in one hand, the other trying to hold in the relentless flood of waste coming from out it's side. But its eyes... there was no fear. No glimmer of mortality. Just endless, ravenous hunger.
It raised the kopis and brought it down-
-onto the skull of the dead Yukman Konrad had just moved. The mercenary's eyes popped open wide as his own damned sword stopped a mere inch from his own face, crude but tough cranium stopping it dead... and holding it there.
The Yukman started to yank, and hiss, and screech like an enraged child. And while he was busy doing that-
-Konrad reach up and grabbed the wrist of the arm clutching the sword, yanking it down-
-as his foot kicked out and took out one of its legs-
-and the Yukman fell down headlong with a screech-
-that ended with Konrad's kukri, waiting for it's face as it fell onto it. The sellsword grinned evilly as an eyeball popped and whatever passed for a brain was skewered, curved knife almost vanishing into the thing's skull. It twitched, then went limp... and he realized he now had two corpses atop him.
"Shyking... petching... ha!"
There was no fear. Less anger. More surprise. But as he staggered back upright, kopis limp in one hand, kukri still jammed into the skull below him, he couldn't help the giddy, half-mad laugh that rattled out through his lips. Gods, he'd needed that. Not just wolves or jackals or desperate animals. A real enemy, with arms and legs and a face and a heart. Something he could cut down without these damned touchy Drykas judging him for it.
Yukyukyukyukyuk...
Careful what you wish for.
The laugh died, but the smile just shrank. Beyond the line of swaying grass, he could hear more of them. Homing in on the scene of desolation like it was a beacon in the night. They'd sensed their brother's death, and were coming to investigate. Was that how it worked? Ah, he didn't care. They were coming, that was what mattered, and now his steel was ready to-
No. Not just that.
Konrad smiled... and held up his hand. The noise grew louder. Crashing and tramping through the grass. He breathed in deep, and as he exhaled, green-black gas rose from his palm. It clotted into a globe above his hand, turning and twisting like a planet, growing larger as the sound grew greater... closer...
Until Konrad could see them coming. Vague outlines beyond the grass. Probably not a good idea, doing what he was about to do. No rain, no streams close by, wind starting to kick up...
Screw it. I'm having fun.
Burn.
The first Yukman crashed out of cover, jaw slack and eyes furious... until it saw the fire. Black, fathomless eyes were suddenly alive with the flame reflected, and Konrad would always swear he saw fear flicker for the merest of moments. Some buried, primordial memory that all living creatures shared, that told them Fire Bad.
Konrad didn't dwell on the feeling. It wasn't alone. He just grinned and hurled the fireball towards the Yukman, throwing it like an apple and just before it smashed into the creature's chest maybe twenty feet away.
"Burn!"
He snapped his fingers, and the molten res core of the fireball ignited-
-crashing into the Yukman like wrecking ball of pure flame-
-scorching dirt-like flesh into clay, portions of it falling away, smoking, to the ground, burning through bones and sizzling blood, organs bursting and all as the Yukman howled and fell back, chest cavity blown apart-
-falling into the handful of his brothers, who trampled him down even as he died, eager to get to the human.
Above the grasslands, the boom of the explosion and the smoke gout belched into the sky. A signal for a mile around. Moments later there was the terrifying, familiar sound of yukyukyukyuk that further painted the picture, and then a final piece of the puzzle unlike the others.
It almost sounded like laughing. Mixed with cursing.
Such a sight would clench at any man's heart, and Konrad was no different. But it did not last. Not even the space of five breaths.
Anger followed. Burning, heated, raging only hotter when the creatures realized they were not alone. First one and then all snapped their eyes to him, a clutch of monsters, hewn from rock and dirt, geology dotted and carved into their hides. Shrunken genitals hung limp below their legs, and for one insane half-tick, Konrad wondered if they even used them.
One of them hissed. Not the Apha. Not big enough. Then the sound was taken up and a familiar yuk-yuk-yuk chorus came vomiting up from four mouths. What hellish innards could create that sound? What crime could be wrought for Caiyha to send such daemons as punishment?
Or maybe they are the punished.
His arrow and bow clattered to the ground, abandoned in favor of his kopis. He'd seen one of these things take a quarrel from a heavy crossbow at close range and keep on charging. His hunting arrow wouldn't do much better, unless he got it right in the eye, which was unlikely.
Stick to what you know.
They rose, and advanced in that shambling, stooped, jerky way of theirs. Endless chatter of yuk-yuk-yuk growing louder, so much it seemed like a single voice. Which wouldn't have surprised Konrad: from what he'd seen, they all seemed to be talking to each other mentally at the same time. Savage in act and hideous in form, but as far as communication went, hells, they didn't even need words.
Maybe. But they're still bastards. And they're still mortal.
"A'right," he said, voice retaining just a hint of a swagger, that spoke of those pregnant moments before the tavern exploded in many a Sunberth brawl. He spat to one side and clenched his kopis... and filled his other hand with his kukri. "S'geddon with it, yeh cunnies."
YUYUKYUKYUKYUKYUKYUK!
They burst into a run, and Konrad charged in to meet them. The leader lurched ahead, swinging at his head with a hand clawed like a bear, and Konrad-
-dropped down to one knee, swinging his kopis as he went-
-curved blade, designed to cleave and chop, slicing the thing's leg off at the knee, sending it screeching down to the ground, stump spewing black blood that smelled beyond foul-
-a second creature came within ranger and Konrad slashed up with his kukri, warding off the clawed hand that tried to lay his face open. The Yukman shrieked and yanked back it's hand, dirt-covered fingers now hanging limp and loose from its palm-
Don't give them a moment, that's all they need.
-and with a savage yell Konrad thrist the kopis up and forward, into the thing's stomach, jerking back up to his feet and yanking the blade up with him-
-steel ripping through whatever in the hells it was made of, scraping against rock and stone, black blood pouring from the gaping hole it made-
-until he kicked between it's legs and cursed the fountain of black gore that soaked his breeches. He yanked his sword free, and the creature toppled back, clutching it's crotch even as it's... guts, for want of a better word, poured from the hole in it's stomach.
Two more, and they had no fear. Their kind didn't seem to understand what that was. They came on and on through volleys of missiles, through magic, through clubs and maces and swords and spears. When they were all dead, they were beaten. Not before. These two were no different, and Konrad lashed out in a wild, horizontal swing with his sword-
Keep them back, but a moment.
-but he wouldn't get a moment. The kopis cleaved into the ribs of a monster but the blade stuck there, caught between mutated bones and thick rocks. He tried to yank it out even as the beast shrieked, but before he could-
-the last one tackled him to the ground, claws already raking his sides, knocking him onto his back and-
-Konrad roared and jammed his kukri into it's throat. Didn't even bother trying to disarm him first. These were clearly new, barely out of their holes. They'd been lucky enough to find the prey his trap had caught earlier, wounded and crippled, still dragging around the wire snare it had yanked out of the ground. But they didn't have to fight, hadn't learned anything.
Especially not about someone like Konrad.
"Away to shyke w'ye!"
There was a hideous, unnatural, ripping and raking sound. Like yanking the kukri through both flesh and dirt. He pulled it forward, towards him, ripping out the Yukman's throat, nearly taking it's head off-
-and a deluge of pitch ichor nearly drowned him, then the dead weight of the monster crushed him, and he could hear the last one, still snarling, still struggling, and he pushed and forced and-
-by the time he pushed the damned corpse off him, the last one was right there. Looking down at him with his kopis in one hand, the other trying to hold in the relentless flood of waste coming from out it's side. But its eyes... there was no fear. No glimmer of mortality. Just endless, ravenous hunger.
It raised the kopis and brought it down-
-onto the skull of the dead Yukman Konrad had just moved. The mercenary's eyes popped open wide as his own damned sword stopped a mere inch from his own face, crude but tough cranium stopping it dead... and holding it there.
The Yukman started to yank, and hiss, and screech like an enraged child. And while he was busy doing that-
-Konrad reach up and grabbed the wrist of the arm clutching the sword, yanking it down-
-as his foot kicked out and took out one of its legs-
-and the Yukman fell down headlong with a screech-
-that ended with Konrad's kukri, waiting for it's face as it fell onto it. The sellsword grinned evilly as an eyeball popped and whatever passed for a brain was skewered, curved knife almost vanishing into the thing's skull. It twitched, then went limp... and he realized he now had two corpses atop him.
"Shyking... petching... ha!"
There was no fear. Less anger. More surprise. But as he staggered back upright, kopis limp in one hand, kukri still jammed into the skull below him, he couldn't help the giddy, half-mad laugh that rattled out through his lips. Gods, he'd needed that. Not just wolves or jackals or desperate animals. A real enemy, with arms and legs and a face and a heart. Something he could cut down without these damned touchy Drykas judging him for it.
Yukyukyukyukyuk...
Careful what you wish for.
The laugh died, but the smile just shrank. Beyond the line of swaying grass, he could hear more of them. Homing in on the scene of desolation like it was a beacon in the night. They'd sensed their brother's death, and were coming to investigate. Was that how it worked? Ah, he didn't care. They were coming, that was what mattered, and now his steel was ready to-
No. Not just that.
Konrad smiled... and held up his hand. The noise grew louder. Crashing and tramping through the grass. He breathed in deep, and as he exhaled, green-black gas rose from his palm. It clotted into a globe above his hand, turning and twisting like a planet, growing larger as the sound grew greater... closer...
Until Konrad could see them coming. Vague outlines beyond the grass. Probably not a good idea, doing what he was about to do. No rain, no streams close by, wind starting to kick up...
Screw it. I'm having fun.
Burn.
The first Yukman crashed out of cover, jaw slack and eyes furious... until it saw the fire. Black, fathomless eyes were suddenly alive with the flame reflected, and Konrad would always swear he saw fear flicker for the merest of moments. Some buried, primordial memory that all living creatures shared, that told them Fire Bad.
Konrad didn't dwell on the feeling. It wasn't alone. He just grinned and hurled the fireball towards the Yukman, throwing it like an apple and just before it smashed into the creature's chest maybe twenty feet away.
"Burn!"
He snapped his fingers, and the molten res core of the fireball ignited-
-crashing into the Yukman like wrecking ball of pure flame-
-scorching dirt-like flesh into clay, portions of it falling away, smoking, to the ground, burning through bones and sizzling blood, organs bursting and all as the Yukman howled and fell back, chest cavity blown apart-
-falling into the handful of his brothers, who trampled him down even as he died, eager to get to the human.
Above the grasslands, the boom of the explosion and the smoke gout belched into the sky. A signal for a mile around. Moments later there was the terrifying, familiar sound of yukyukyukyuk that further painted the picture, and then a final piece of the puzzle unlike the others.
It almost sounded like laughing. Mixed with cursing.