"You really intend to hit her all the way from here?" Steppan asks a bit incredulously as the group follows Thorpe to one of the blunt watch posts on the north wall. Lord Felix is trailing along with us.
The wooden stairs creak as Thorpe makes his way up to the platform above. "We can't risk going in after her. Her honor guard can phase over and use earth magic. Me, Ethel, and you might be able to handle them, but they will cause way worse damage than even their horde can." He responds to the [Knight] as he gets to the top, patting one of the archers on the back. "Make a run out into the field to Ser Ethel, get her to send one of those [Scouts] over here."
The [Guard] gives a curt nod, settling his bow against the railing and taking off down the steps after the rest of us join Old Guard in the tower. A cold drizzle has begun to wet the area as the light patter of rain hits the roof of the little watchtower. Which usually comforts me on most rainy days, but today the rain just makes the stench of death even stronger.
Seeing out into the fields now is quite harrowing. So much of the crops have been trampled. The majority that was destroyed was dying in the white soil that had spread over this season, but they were still holding on better than expected. It's a pretty devastating loss. But I'm shocked we were able to protect as much of it as we have.
The [Guards] and mercenaries out there have done a decent job of moving the Jackalopes corpses into designated piles. Keeping most of the fighting ground clear of hazards. The last thing you need in a fight is to get tripped by something already dead.
Ser Steppan approaches Old Guard, still not looking convinced. "And how the hell do you intend to hit her from here? We can't even see her."
Thorpe lifts his right hand, his spear materializing in it with a flash of golden light. "Oh, I can hit her. I just need to know her direction and how deep into the trees she is. Which is what either of those [Scouts] can tell me." He states plainly, not at all happy about it, as he sets his spear aside and starts removing his arm guards.
Lord Felix teases with the curl of his mustache while he observes. His painted brow arching at the old man. "The [Scout] concluded she is unlikely to survive the night. Why not just simply wait for her to pass on her own?"
Old Guard drops his arm guards to the side and sighs. "It would be better if we could. But now, my village is compromised, someone broke into my house, and my apprentice was almost murdered. This was no coincidence. That's obvious now."
Lord Felix agrees with a couple of slow nods. "I must concur. The attack on the road, the Jackalopes, and now this." The bridge of his nose wrinkles somewhat. "If they were being subtle before, they've certainly dropped it now. And I think that might be my fault."
"You've spooked them. When you decided not to send a letter and showed up in Llanercost unannounced, they must have panicked." Thorpe grunts. "And when you decided to come up this way, it gave them the perfect excuse to deal with both of us. Cause I don't think they have been as successful with poisoning us as they have been with the other villages."
The nobleman's brow furrows, his eyes flittering slightly as if searching the air before him. And then a chill rolls down my spine as his usually composed mask of confidence falls away. His face pales and his eyes widen. Forming into the most honest expression I've seen on him so far. "This—this is so much worse than I could have imagined."
Thorpe and I are quiet, but we share a knowing glance as it seems our distinguished guest might have just figured out our situation on his own.
Steppan lifts a brow at his liege. "Have one of your epiphanies, my lord?"
Lord Felix quickly reconstructs his confidence, adjusting his ascot as he glances up towards his [Knight]. "Indeed. A most horrifying one. But we shall save that discussion for later, as previously stated. The faster we deal with this jackalope business, the faster we can act against the real problem."
Steppan frowns at the unclear answer but doesn't push it. Taking a look over his shoulder and down the stairs before shifting himself out of the way as one of his [Scouts] ascends to the platform. Dressed in light padded armor, accompanied by a cloak decorated with twigs, leaves, and grass. A shortbow rests in a pouch slung from his hip, while his quiver remains sealed on his other side. He looks young, not even 20, but has a little blonde stubble around his youthful face
Steppan gives the [Scout] a nod before turning to Thorpe. "This is Barton. He's the one who got closest."
Old Guard steps over to give the [Scout] a firm handshake, which Barton returns in kind. "Hope it wasn't too dicey for yah. Mind giving me the details?"
Barton offers a curt nod. "A little nerve-wracking, sir, I'll admit." He answers, his tone just as youthful as his face suggests. "Unfortunately, I couldn't get that close. Her honor guard sensed us even in stealth. Five massive bucks with black fur. 10-point racks on the lot of them. Fierce-looking bastards." The [Scout] details, shuddering at the memory. "The den mother has collapsed on the forest floor. She's got severe wounds across her chest and belly. Blood everywhere. All her energy is just going to breathing, from what I could tell."
Thorpe grimaces as a somewhat sad tinge flashes across his features. "Have any guesses what could have hurt her?"
Barton frowns and settles a hand onto the lid of his hip quiver. Some pensive wrinkles pressing around his eyes that make me question my initial thoughts about his age. "Can't make any strong guesses. But it was definitely another monster. Wounds match up with the claws and teeth of a creature about her size or a little bigger."
Thorpe's eyes drift off to the side for a few uncomfortable seconds while we watch his mood sink even further than it already had. "Any puncture wounds?"
The [Scout] furrows his brow. "A few could have been, yes."
"Yellowish around the eyes?"
Barton is quiet for a few moments, Thorpe reading the younger man's face as he is likely recalling other details. "Aye. Her skin under the fur was rather yellowish, now that I think about it. And the blood I saw was thick like a stew."
Steppan's expression hardens as he seems to realize where Thorpe's thought process is leading. The [Knight] emits a low concerned hum. "She's clotting. Liver failure. She's been poisoned?"
Thorpe lets out the longest sigh I think I've ever heard him give. "Venom. From a stinger." The old man corrects as he finally reaches back for his spear, settling it against his shoulder.
The [Knight] gives Old Guard a pointed look. "I'm guessing you're familiar?"
Thorpe nods solemnly. "Before I came to this village, it was on the verge of being abandoned. The soil here was perfect, but the area was extremely dangerous. Rife with big predators fighting over hunting grounds. And the Jackalopes were having population issues because something was snatching their brood mothers out of their dens. The den mother could hardly keep up."
A knot starts to form in my stomach as I realize what Thorpe is alluding to. Papa used to tell Leo and me stories about the early days of the village and just how dangerous it was. A lot of people died back then before Mama brought Thorpe here. The village was under constant attack by packs of predators aiming for the livestock and [Farmers] alike. But even they had to worry about getting eaten as well. If I'm remembering correctly, the old [Guard] captain was swooped up and eaten by a—
"A FUCKING MANTICORE?!" Ser Steppan shouts in surprise, staring wide-eyed at the old man who must have filled them in while I was lost in thought. And Lord Felix and the [Scout] both look quite surprised at his companion's outburst.
Thorpe raises a hand in a calming gesture towards the [Knight]. "Going to need you to keep it down, Steppan. The last thing I need is anyone panicking."
Steppan rubs his temples and groans in frustration, pacing a bit back and forth. "My apologies. It's just truly difficult to believe. I hadn't even known those things still existed. I thought they went extinct."
Old Guard scratches at his stubble. "Ehhhh. Technically, they will be. They are highly endangered and as far as anyone knows there aren't any females left. But they can live for hundreds of years, so there are still a reclusive few that are spread around the Grand."
Lord Felix clears his throat to catch Old Guard's attention. "I am supposing this one must be the same one as back then?"
"Would have to be. It's the only one I know of that was relatively close by. I hunted it after it killed my predecessor—rest his soul. And thankfully, they're smart enough to tuck and run if they get hurt badly enough. Nearly died fighting the damn thing, but I got it good right in the chest. Tracked it back south, and it holed itself up in a cave between us and the Doncaster region. And it's stayed around there ever since." Thorpe answers the nobleman before his face sinks again. "But I guess something—or someone—decided to lead it back up here for shits and giggles."
I gulp, nervously kneading my hands into one another in front of me. "What are we going to do about it? Aren't they really strong?"
Thorpe tilts his head towards me and reaches down to pat the top of my head. "They are, yes. They're high-tier monsters just like the Kite. Not as big, but easily far more dangerous. Claws that will split steel, teeth that will pierce armor, venom from the stinger on their tail, and they can fly. But even more dangerous is their lightning magic. I've seen plenty of men braver than I get dusted by a stray bolt."
The old man kneels down to get eye level with me. "But it's not anything we need to handle immediately. Manticores are extremely hedonistic and self-absorbed. If it just took over the Warren, then it's gonna be lavishing itself on its new territory. And most likely engorging on Jackalopes for a while. But we can definitely handle it when the time comes."
I slowly nod at the assurance. Thorpe is usually right about things involving monsters, so it really does help my nervousness, if I can even call it that.
Cause honestly, I feel like a small part of me wants to fight it…
But I shake my head out of the thought. "Then let's get this over with," frowning a bit at the exhaustion still apparent on his face. "But are you sure you'll be okay doing this?"
Thorpe seems to think about that question for a moment before shaking his head, to my surprise. "Honestly, no. I'm struggling pretty hard here. But we don't have much choice." He answers with a flatness that makes my heart ache.
My frown deepens as my feet shift me forward on reflex. Wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into an embrace. His body seems to lock up briefly, but eventually his shoulders relax while his free arm wraps around me to hug me back.
I hold him for a few more seconds until the quiet becomes too uncomfortable. Stepping back so that he can stand up. The old man rising to his feet with a deep breath. "Thanks, kiddo. I think I needed that."
I give him a weak smile and a thumbs up. Which is about the most I can muster up myself currently. Unfortunately, even a draught can't heal mental strain.
Lord Felix clears his throat to catch our attention again. "Ser Steppan has noted to me the importance this creature poses to the environment. Can we replace it artificially? Or must it be born amongst them?" He asks with a tinge of concern that he barely hides. The sudden drizzle on the way here has left the portly nobleman slightly soaked and looking more weathered. Whatever makeup he had been wearing that concealed the deeper lines in his face is all but gone.
Thorpe rolls his shoulders and neck, eliciting several pops from his joints that make my skin crawl. "The word importance definitely doesn't do enough justice. But yes. Den Mothers are a type of monster that you do not decide to kill on a whim." He states very bluntly. "They will definitely replace themselves naturally, but it takes a while for them to reach maturity. Around ten or so years. Even more than that, for them to get strong enough to form a Warren." The old man shakes his head and gestures for the [Scout] to come forward while he still answers the nobleman. "Could probably introduce one artificially, but would be pretty expensive, I'd imagine. I know there is somewhat of a monster trade through Hascus."
Lord Felix nods his head slowly in thought. "Certainly something I can discuss with her grace when I return to Berxley. I am sure that arrangements can be made if it will cause such trouble.
Thorpe doesn't exactly look convinced but gives the nobleman a bow of his head. "That would sure put an ease on my mind, I appreciate that, my lord."
The old man turns to the [Scout], the bridge of his nose wrinkling. "I need you to point out what direction she's in and how deep she is past the tree line. You think you can do that?"
Barton offers a swift nod. "Aye, sir." The man steps toward the edge of the watcher tower and leans against the railing. Giving a brief scan before turning slightly to straighten his arm, pointing his index finger out a half measure into the northwest. Which now that he points it out, most of the Warren defenders and adults are crowded there.
Thorpe moves in behind him to narrow his eyes down the length of the man's arm. "Makes sense. How deep?"
After a few quiet seconds, Barton grunts. "About four to five hundred paces, give or take."
Old Guard gives a blunt nod and gestures Barton aside. Then brings his fingers to his lips to let out a sharp whistle into the fields. Loud enough for Lord Felix to cover his ears in response and catching the attention of the [Guards] and mercenaries outside. Namely, Ser Ethel, who turns about and unlatches one of the cheeks of her fluted helm to expose her ear.
Thorpe sucks in a deep breath and bellows out across the fields, gesturing with his arm in the direction Barton gave him. "CLEAR THE LINE! NORTHWEST! THREE DEGREES! DEFENSIVE POSITIONS! EXPECT FRENZY! POWER ATTACK!"
Ethel holds up her hand to give the okay sign, snapping the cheek of her helmet back on before she starts giving orders of her own to those around her. Our defenders already moving out of the way as quickly as they can.
Thorpe turns back to us and gestures to step back. "I'm going to be burning up a lot of mana here in a second, so you might want to keep your distance."
Lord Felix's brow arches but moves back as Steppan and I do, giving Thorpe as wide a birth as we can on the platform while he flips the blade of his spear downward and hoists it up in a javelin stance. Barton leaving the tower all together to likely join the other fighters out front.
My cheek twitches at the sight of Thorpe's stance. A rough memory crawling back to the forefront of my mind, but I manage to wrench it back where it belongs. Out of sight.
The old man holds still for a few moments while he watches the path over the fields clear and our fighters take positions. Taking cover behind the piles of dead Jackalopes. But once everyone is out of the way, his free arm raises and points out toward his target direction with two fingers while his other cocks the spear back over his shoulder.
His shoulders rise and fall with his deep breaths. But right before the quiet sets in for too long, he speaks. "[Sure Shot]."
The tip of his spear flashes and begins to blur slightly. It's the same skill he used on the [Bandit] archer.
"[Radiant Edge]."
The blade begins to hum, turning red and then white as it heats up. Sparks bleeding from its edge like molten iron being hammered at a forge. And already the air around Thorpe starts to warble a bit in my vision, sending a wave of nausea through me. My stomach churns, causing me to step back and cover my mouth. But glancing over at the other two, they don't seem to be having the same issues. Both are just transfixed on Old Guard.
But for me, it gets worse. The floor suddenly feels like it's slipping out from under me. My skin breaks out in a cold sweat, and I can barely keep myself standing. Everything around Thorpe has become a blur.
"[Blazing Lance]!"
Heat batters against me, the watchtower bathing in bright golden light. My knees finally giving out as I collapse to the ground. The heat is intense, and yet my insides feel like they're freezing. My body shivering violently while everything around me is turning into a muted blur. Ears feeling like they're stuffed with cotton.
I gasp as a hand grabs my arm and hoists me up like a wet blanket. I can barely make out who it is at first, but Steppan's frame is pretty noticeable. He's yelling something at me, but it's unintelligible.
The heat from Thorpe suddenly gets even more intense, the reverberations finally causing me to lurch over and evacuate my stomach onto the platform.
And then—POP.
Right inside my ears, a sensation that slams through my body in a swift painful burst that has me gritting my teeth hard enough to crack them. My frame goes rigid in Steppan's arms. But all the blurriness fades away with a strange rumble in my ears. Like the sound of water receding before a wave.
"LIORE! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!"
'Leave me—children—please leave me.'
"What the hell happened to her?!"
"I don't know! She just collapsed and got really pale!"
'Children—please—get away!'
Even past Thorpe and Steppan's shouting, I can hear it, my face scrunching up in confusion. Vomit still dripping from my chin as the [Knight] continues to hold my limp form upright.
A voice bleeding in between their panic. One that somewhat echoes a soothing tone over my aching brain like a balm on a wound. Reminding me of my own mother's voice. Echoing from past the trees.
My eyes settle in that direction to notice the golden arc of light as Thorpe's spear sales through the air and pierces the treeline, scattering the jackalopes within. The gold light flashing through the dark green tops as it travels to its destination.
'Please—run—save yourselves.'
The bright flash that follows as the spear meets its intended target is brilliant. Beautiful even.
But all I notice is the agonized scream in the midst of it.