"WATCH OUT!"
[Threat Detection] flares sharply all across my back after landing an unfortunately short distance behind the Saber Badger. My sword slick with blood and bits of fat from a gash I just scored over its left shoulder. But its reaction speed has only gotten faster in the last five minutes since this fight started.
Its massive right claws swing into a backhand behind it. Only giving me enough time to level my sword in its path before the claws connect with force. Grinding against my blade and slapping me off my feet with its intense strength.
And for a brief moment, everything around me is a blur while I sail through the air, but it comes to a crashing halt as Steppan swoops in to catch me. The [Knight] lets out a loud grunt as he skids back several paces before falling onto his rump with a thud. His armor rattling noisily.
"You alright, Liore?" Steppan asks while lifting us both back up to our feet. Keeping his shield in front of me.
I nod slowly, hissing through my teeth as the ache of several cuts and bruises fades in as my blood feels like it's rushing back into the right places. "Aye. I'm good." I wheeze out. "How hasn't it run yet? Saber Badgers are usually cowardly."
The [Knight] sighs behind me, rolling his shoulders. "Your guess is as good as much. But something is definitely wrong with it. It certainly isn't hunting anymore."
In the last five minutes, we've been able to do quite a lot of damage. Finally pinning it down after it opened several pitfall tunnels in the pasture. And with spear strikes from the [Guards] and Arric's well-placed shots, it's been distracted enough for me and Steppan to get significant cuts in. But it feels like it's only made it worse. Its movements haven't slowed down. In fact, it seems to just be getting faster and more erratic.
It's a harrowing sight. Gashes across its belly, back, arms, and shoulders. Thrown spears protruding from certain places, most of them broken to bits. And practically its whole body is peppered with enough arrows to rival one of Miss Margo's pincushions.
It's bleeding profusely, along with leaking out entire pounds of sickly yellow fat that is making my stomach churn.
But even after all of that, and the cut I just got on its shoulder, it's still ready and raring to go. Snarling and swiping at the [Guards] surrounding it and giving it jabs anytime they get an opening. Foamy saliva whipping out of its maw as it keeps its head on a swivel. Already having taken out two more of our [Guards] since the first one, who are now dragged off to the side by Thomas. Alive, but no longer able to fight.
My teeth grit watching the beast keep the [Guards] at bay. Knowing their shields are not strong enough to protect them against its claws. The first [Guard] learned that the hard way. "Why has it stopped tunneling? It could easily escape that way."
Steppan shakes his head. "Don't know for sure. Maybe it can't. Too many enemies. If it tries to tunnel, it'll expose its head while its hands are busy. That's my guess."
My nose wrinkles at that. "If it's that smart, then what the hell was its plan here?" I ask a bit more rhetorically. "It's wounds are too extensive now. It has to know it'll just die out in the wild at this rate."
Steppan grunts and just shrugs. "Who knows. It's useless to wonder what a monster's thinking. We're just gonna have to keep whittling the bastard down." He states with agitation while beginning to re-approach the beast.
But I'm not convinced we can keep that up. It's already wounded two people, and I don't want to risk anymore if we don't have to. But it's difficult to get close to this thing. It can change its attack range at a moment's notice by retracting and lengthening its claws. Its hide and muscles are too thick to get anything vital, and it protects its head above all else.
I let out a low growl. "We can't keep this up. You might be right and we're keeping it boxed in too much to run. I say we back off and let it. This is uphill and we're down two already."
The [Knight] curls his lip at the suggestion, his brows pinching inward. "Or it'll tunnel just go back to opening holes in the ground."
I flinch at the comeback, as well as the beast swiping at another [Guard] who gets too close and tearing his wood shield away. Luckily he seems to have jumped back far enough not lose an arm. But by the way it bends backwards, it certainly wasn't painless. The [Guard] in question yelling out in pain while gripping his now limp arm.
I grimace and glare at Steppan growling back, "If it does then just lead it over to me. I'll at least see if I can kick it in the head when it pops up. Maybe that'll get it to leave." I state with agitation, not entirely certain I'd be able to pull it off. Much more liable to get snatched and eaten, but we're all tired of this thing already.
Steppan gives me a hard stare before groaning. "Fine, I've got your back." He sighs before yelling out over the pasture, "Back off from it! Give it room!"
The [Guards] look a bit apprehensive but do as they're commanded, backing up from the agitated monster and giving it more room to breath. It's snarls becoming quieter as it keeps its arms up defensively near its head. It's forearms already covered with arrows.
We watch the Saber Badger as it considers the opening we've given it. Lowering its head further towards the dirt as it's marred body begins to shimmy back into its hole. The tightness of the tunnel juicing out more blood and loose fat from the many deep gashes across its abdomen. A sight that has me gagging ever so slightly. But at least I don't appear to be alone in that.
Steppan looks a bit green as well, shaking his head slowly. "Please. Please just leave."
The beast stares at us with dark glassy eyes. Foamy drool still dripping from its jaws. And with a swift dive forward, it tears through the earth and tunnels back underground. Disappearing in a mound of dirt. Putting us on high alert as we ready to receive it.
And we wait.
And wait.
And wait…
And then finally, the earth begins noticeably rolling again. Not towards us. Not even close.
But away from us.
Our heads turning in unison to track the path of its tunneling as it lifts a portion of the pasture fence and vanishes into the hillside towards the southern treeline.
The rumbling getting more and more feint until we no longer feel the vibrations.
Steppan scoffs, his posture relaxing. "Well alright then."
The [Guards] around us sigh in relief and take a moment to catch their breath and check on the wounded. Passing around small healing potions to halt bleeding and numb pain for now. The two that got downed during the fight are pretty cut up, but their quick footwork kept them from being fatal.
As for me, I can't help but chuckle. "I guess it really wasn't running because we were just not letting it."
Steppan stabs his sword into the dirt and scratches the back of his neck before offering a big shrug response. "Suppose we overestimated the big bastard. Was probably shitting itself scared." He states with a shake of his head, removing a cateen from his belt and taking a long swig of water. "Let's hope it learned its lesson and stays the fuck away."
I nod along with that sentiment before turning to see the [Guards] standing around one of the wounded. Muttering to each other before one of them sprints off towards the village. Their voices almost sound—panicked?
A tightness starts to form in my chest. A familiar sensation. Dread, I think.
Steppan seems to have noticed as well as we shared a worried glance to one another.
My body feels like it's freezing in place for a brief moment before I push myself forward. Ser Steppan following close behind me as we join with others. The group of [Guards] looking back as we approach, splitting to let us in. Most of who have either lifted their visors or removed their helmets altogether. Monica amongst them, whose expression looks grim. Her cheeks already wet with shed tears and her breaths ragged.
Thomas is sitting on the ground, cradling the head of one of the wounded [Guards] whose body lies limply below us. The first one who was downed before the fight really started. His left arm is missing and his torso is half split from the side in three places. The grass beneath him has been stained red in a wide radius. Far too much for any person to survive losing.
The greying [Guard] looks up at us with a lost look in his eyes, shaking his head. "Tried to stop the bleeding. Used every potion I had. But the wounds were far too deep, they kept opening back up. That thing cut straight through his shield and armor both." He states with a slight rasp, trying to control his shakey breath.
Sound around us seems to become muffled. And I can't take my eyes off of the bodies face. The glassy stare. The blood drying around his mouth. The remnants of sweat on his brow. He looks so young…
Victor, I think. I remember seeing him at the lineup this morning.
I've never really spoken to him before other than greetings. Or passing by during a patrol. Never the talkative type.
My lip quivers but I manage to bite it down just as tears start welling up in my eyes. Taking a step back to bump into Steppan who grabs my shoulder to steady me. My head turning to look up at him.
The [Knight] has a complicated expression on his face that is difficult for me to discern. He gives my shoulder a light squeeze before he looks over to the closest [Guard], who happens to be Monica. "We need to move him out of here and get the entrances to these tunnels filled in."
Monica grimaces but nods. "Aye. You're right." She admits, shaking herself out before turning to the others. "Thomas, Landry. Carry Victor back to the shack. The rest of us will grab a few [Farmers] and get these holes filled up so nothing else sneaks through."
Varied and delayed nods and grunts from the other [Guards], but they get to work nonetheless. Thomas removing his cloak to wrap up Victor's body before they gingerly lift him. Carrying him along back towards the southern gate.
We watch them go for a few moments before Monica turns back to us. Her eyes locking on to me, swallowing hard. "Rabbit, would you mind hopping over to the fields and squaring us a few [Farmers] this way?"
I stare a bit blankly for a moment, unsure of how to operate. But my mind finally catches up enough to offer a nod. "Um. Of course. Sorry."
Monica shakes her head. "No need, dear. Thank you for the quick response."
I offer another nod. Unsure as to why I even apologized. But it's become an annoying habit of mine. It takes a moment to get my feet to move faster than a snails pace. Pushing myself from a walk, to a jog, and finally to a complete stride with my leaps.
The other [Guards] have already started kicking and pushing the upturned earth back into their respective holes. But it will take a while to refill them. Which is why the [Farmers] and some shovels are necessary to make this quicker.
It doesn't take long to reach the fields and explain the situation to them. And within a few minutes I'm leading a little over a dozen [Farmers] back to the pasture. Equipped with shovels and trowels.
The Saber Badger made six or seven massive breaches in the earth during our skirmish with it. But the field crew makes short work of them while we watch over them, helping when needed. We don't just want the holes filled haphazardly. They also need to be structurally sound so that the cattle don't cause them to collapse. And the [Farmers] are much better at that.
It's about late afternoon by the time they finish. Steppan joins us in checking the treeline to make sure the beast wasn't hiding anywhere nearby. But it seems like it truly fled the area.
Chatter was kept to a minimum as we finally made our way back into the village. Beelining it to the [Guard] house where the evening shift are already piled in. The building is not really meant to be crowded into. It's mostly just a place to store armor, weapons, and other equipment.
Eyes are on us as we approach. Probably still looking quite haggard from the fighting and dirt moving. The late shift [Guards] move out of the way to let us through into the small staging area where a table is set in the center. Which is usually covered in reports and schedules but is now taken up by Victor's half-wrapped body. His face revealed and looking even paler than he was earlier. Gaunt and hauntingly still.
Thorpe stands on the other side of the table with his hands on his hips. Looking more tired than when I saw him last on my birthday. A noticeable sunkenness to his features that worries me. Liutenant Walt is sitting in a chair near the window with his head in his hands.
Old Guard glances up at us, his eyes locking onto me almost immediately for a brief moment before they shift to someone behind me. "Amhir, shift change. Don't just stand there." He states plainly, his voice coming out in slight rasp.
The late shift [Guards] stagger for a moment but eventually back away and spread out to their respective patrols. All of them looking apprehensive to leave the situation but the job is more important.
Thorpe slowly takes in a deep breath, holds it, and then releases it in the longest sigh I've ever seen. One that everyone in the room feels almost as heavily.
Steppan moves a bit more into the room. "This doesn't happen often does it?"
Thorpe shakes his head slowly. "I'd still be upset even if it did." He remarks, standing up as straight as he can muster. "But we haven't lost a [Guard] like this in almost ten years. We've kept things safe enough so that something like this doesn't happen. But you can't really predict when all the safeties fail."
The [Knight] lowers his head. "You entrusted me with your men. It was my command to surround it. If I had slowed down enough to—"
Thorpe cuts him off with a raised hand and a glare. "The last thing I want is us to start playing the blame game. In this instance it was our equipment that failed spectacularly."
Monica clears her throat beside me. "It's claws made our shields practically useless. And usually they can repel much tougher than that."
Steppan nods and brings up his own Kite shield, which is full metal as opposed to our iron wood ones. But even then, the scoring across the metal is pretty deep. "This shields held up better against drake claws and now look at it. It definitely had a skill or something it was using. And its strength was shocking. Knocked me on my ass several times."
I timidly speak up as everyone seems to be getting their thoughts in. "It felled one of the shading trees with them before everyone got there. Saber Badgers claws are never that sharp. They're mostly just for digging." I comment, looking up towards Thorpe. "It was bigger than Jackalope adults. Have you heard of one that size before?"
Old Guard shakes his head pretty definitively. "Saber Badgers are pretty consistent. They don't get much bigger than your standard cattle dog. Even the other variants I've seen were about the same size. This one was news to me as well."
The corners of my mouth curve down quite sharply at that. If even Thorpe doesn't know, then it's definitely not good. "Well. It ran off southward. And it's pretty severely wounded, so..." I trail off, already reconsidering my own reassurance. Whose to say that it can't heal quickly and come back.
Thorpe rubs his eyes a bit too roughly before looking back down at Victor solemnly. "Has anyone spoken to his wife yet?" He asks quietly.
The silence following the question speaks volumes.
Monica breaks it with a shuddering breath, "I was going to do it. She's a friend, so..." She chokes up at the end and covers her mouth with her hand.
Thorpe nods in agreement. "It's alright. I'll go with you." He states before scanning over everyone else. "The rest of you should go and relax. We'll have an all-hands meeting tomorrow afternoon. I think we need to change are tactics. I have a feeling we're going to be seeing more tough customers like that from now on."
"Aye, Captain." We answer in unison. Even Steppan joining in.
The [Knight] moves forward with his head kept a bit low. "But if I may, Auguste. If you'd permit me, I'd like to at least pay him a courtesy."
The room falls a bit quiet at the request. Thorpe staring across the table at the mercenary as if judging the man's intentions. And after an uncomfortable few seconds he sighs, "Go ahead. Won't be any easier on her though."
Steppan flinches slightly at the remark. "I know. Like I said. Just courtesy." He responds back almost quiet enough to be a whisper. Determination still evident in his eyes.
Old Guard steps aside and moves around the table to stand next to Monica and me. My nose wrinkling as I catch the stench of pipe weed and alcohol.
His attention focuses on me as he starts to lower himself down to a knee but suddenly stops. His brow raising quite high as he scans me over.
His confused expression tells me it takes him a moment to register something until he simply stands back up. Giving me a hard stare before he lifts a hand to place ontop of my head and levels it with the center of his throat.
His eyes widen before a proud smile slowly creeps across his face. "Well hey, you grew up."
That smile and how gently he says it topples over my already sensitive emotions. My lips quivering out of my control as tears begin streaming down my cheeks more freely. "Y—yeah. I guess so." I manage to say through a sob. The rest of my energy for the day draining out of me as if a cork had been yanked out.
Thorpes hand rests on my shoulder and pulls me into a hug against his chest. Wrapping his arm around to pat my back. "Nothing else you could have done, kiddo."
My brain keeps playing back the entire skirmish, tearing it apart every which way. Questioning every decision and how we could have avoided this. Which just makes all of it feel so much worse. "We were stupid. We didn't take it seriously enough. We shouldn't have boxed it in like that. We—"
"HEY. Enough of that." Old Guard raises his voice, but only for that brief moment. Taking a step back and fixing me with a stern look. "There ain't no use to digging around for things to beat yourself up with. We can pick it apart all you want later. Okay?"
I sniffle, feeling a bit embarassed at how I'm acting. I had been keeping myself together for hours and now suddenly I can't put a lid on it. My breaths stutter while I wipe at the tears with my sleeves. "Y—yes sir."
He gives my shoulder a firm squeeze and turns his head to look back towards the table where Steppan is now leaned over Victor's body. One hand placed on the bodies chest while his other grips something tightly that is wrapped around his fingers. His head is bowed and his eyes are shut.
My brows furrow at the scene with confusion. "What is he doing?" I ask quietly, glancing up at Old Guard.
Thorpe let's out a soft sigh through his nose. "He doesn't want to leave him looking like that for his wife." He mutters back, not looking away from the strange display.
I'm not sure what he means by that. But it doesn't take long to get the clearer answer as little motes of light begin to accumulate around Victor's body.
His sickly pale skin lightens and his gaunt features soften. Returning him to vaguely how he looked before he had passed on.
Almost as if he could wake up at any moment.
But he doesn't.
Steppan stands up straight, letting his grip loosen as a pendant falls loose on its cord from his grasp. A rounded metal token with a familiar insignia shaped into it. The head of a stag facing forward with antlers spreading like the branches of a tree.
The Holy Order.
My eyes widen. The exchange making a lot more sense now. Which makes me realize that I never actually knew what class Ser Steppan was. I had just assumed he was a [Knight] like Ser Ethel. He fits the bill pretty perfectly. But [Knights] aren't the only class that excel at fighting in plate armor or with swords and shields.
Which would likely make him a [Paladin]. But then why is he not with the Order? Did he fail to join?
We watch him step back from the body, tucking the pendant into the collar of his breastplate. Looking a bit darker around the eyes, but somewhat satisfied. "There. Thank you for indulging me, Auguste." He says, giving a grateful bow of his head to Old Guard.
Thorpe offers him a nod in return. "I'm sure he would appreciate it. You should turn in as well. And you're welcome to our all-hands tomorrow if you're able."
Steppan returns the nod with his own. "Certainly. Seems like the village will need all the help it can get. I'll let Ethel know. I'm sure she'd be willing to lend more daily support since we're sticking around for a while."
"Much obliged." The old man states before shooing away the others. Steppan heading out as the early shift scatters to their homes. Monica stays close to Thorpe with a somber expression. Likely not looking forward to the conversation she is about to have. But Old Guard turns back to me and almost looks like he's about to ruffle my hair like usual, but stops himself. "Hmmm. Now that you're taller, it doesn't really feel right to do that."
I've never exactly hated it. It just always felt normal for family to pat my head. But I guess I might be getting a little too old for that. So I offer a simple shrug, still sniffling some. "I—I was going to join the late shift since I got pulled this morning."
He shakes his head lightly. "I think you've had enough today. But you can pick up the late shift with me tomorrow. I know I've been kind of—spotty, lately. And there are things you and I need to hash out I'm sure." His expression already tells me he has some idea as to what I must be feeling. And likely what Ethel and Lord Felix spoke to me about earlier.
I purse my lips and give him a brief, quiet glare. "Yes. I'd like that."
Thorpe rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "Looks like I'm in trouble then..." A long sigh escapes him before he gestures to Monica to lead the way while giving me a wave. "You can chew me out tomorrow, then. Have a good night, Liore."
Monica waves as well, giving me a weak smile. "G'night, rabbit."
I return the wave to them both and watch them get further down the dirt road. Crickets chirping in the grass. Light chatter from some villagers in the buildings nearby.
The corners of my mouth pull downwards. Glancing back over my shoulder at Victor's body on the table. Looking much more refreshed than the quickly decaying corpse he appeared as before. But I suppose that part hasn't really changed.
I'm starting to see now why Thorpe wasn't all that receptive to Steppan's request.
It feels almost worse to paint over the reality of it.
He's dead.
And so will we if we aren't more careful next time.