The Wanderer

Prologue

Obsidian eyes thinly rimmed in red stared into the flickering mist hovering above the table. Waving his hand slightly and chanting an incantation under his breath, the picture within the mist changed, showing a manly shape picking his way through a densely wooded path. Figures moved around within the mist, and he strained to listen to their conversation. His face darkened as he saw a feminine figure come into view. Was she the one he was searching for? He had to find the girl. He growled under his breath that this one girl could undo everything he had worked for. He had planned it all so carefully, and now this one girl could unravel everything he had worked for. He had thought her confined in Caradyn, the Royal City, but to his chagrin, discovered she had slipped out of the city into the Wilds. He cursed under his breath and frowned into the Mist he had created with his black magic. Was it her? He looked up from under the rim of his dark hood to the dark, tall, burly man leaning against the doorway and spoke in a grating, raspy voice. “Send your men to release the beasts. It is time. Find the girl and bring her to me. She must not get in my way. I don’t believe I need to go into details about what will happen should you fail”. The hooded figure rose up menacingly as the burly man narrowed his dark eyes, staring back. Finally, his heavily tattooed arms finally uncrossed from his chest and he stood upright. He gave a slow nod and left the room without a word. The hooded man turned his attention back to the misty image, watching…waiting…and planning.

Part 1

The day dawned cold and rainy, colder than usual for this time of the year. Hidden by a forest of brown, stark, leafless trees, a young man sat hunched down by his small campfire, His grey eyes staring at the small flames. The rain that dripped onto his head and soaked his curly black hair went largely unnoticed, and though he stared at the fire, his ears were tuned to the soft sounds of the forest, listening for any noises that did not belong there. The woods were silent but for the soft drip, drip, drip, of the rain on the ground. With an ear still tuned to his surroundings, he let his mind wander a little.

He had grown up in a small village up in the Northern part of the kingdom, many miles away. His village was at the base of the mountains which bordered the Narin Kingdom, and unlike the coastal region in the South, it was often covered in snow, particularly in the winter. When he came of age, he left, telling people he was off to seek adventure, but truthfully, it was because there was nothing to hold him there. His parents had both died of illness two years earlier, and the pretty young woman he had always dreamed of marrying was discovered in the hayloft with a roguish traveler, and they were quickly hauled off and married before the day’s end. He was crushed, deciding in that moment that marriage was no longer something he wanted. It was the last straw for him, the final push out of town. He gathered his few belongings and headed South, though without any specific destination in mind.

He spent the next three years traveling through the Kingdom, and he had earned the nickname “Wanderer” from many of the people he saw as he traveled. His name was actually Vaydros, but there were very few who actually called him that anymore. He often found work as a scout and merchant guard, and enjoyed the variety of work…and the money. He earned enough to buy a room at an inn and a few ales occasionally, but easily kept himself supplied with food, boots and other necessities for his exploration.

He had grown to enjoy his nomadic lifestyle, and the solitude that came with it. He had learned much about the world, and discovered more about the nature of people than he had expected. He learned very quickly that the women in any given village would very quickly size him up like a slab of meat and they would debate amongst themselves which of their daughters would marry him. Besides, he was not about to marry; the thought of it left a sour taste in his mouth. Perhaps one day he would change his mind, but he had yet to meet a woman that would ever make him think about taking those vows. He took to dressing like the swindlers and travellers, and to his relief, that was enough to stop the women of the villages from marrying him off before they learned his name. He grinned, thinking of the glares he now received from these same women. Such judgement when they did not even know him. He was by no means a swindler or a gambler, but he had to admit, people were attempting to cheat him less because they assumed he was a dangerous man.

A flock of birds taking flight brought his mind back to the grey, rainy morning. He turned and peered through the dense trees knowing something must have startled them, then quickly grabbed his bow and quiver filled with arrows and began a silent tread through the trees, careful to avoid leaves and bushes that might make noise. He came near to the area where the birds had been perched and peered around a large tree trunk, not wishing to be spotted by whatever had scared them. As he looked around, he saw some odd tracks in the muddy ground. His eyes narrowed and he frowned in confusion. He was unfamiliar with any animal that might have made prints like these. It looked like a giant paw-print, about the same size as a man’s foot, but along the edge of the pad was a round ridge that looked like a hoof with claw marks. He didn’t have time to study it any further.

It might have been his finely tuned senses, or pure instinct, but he managed to duck just a moment before the odd ax hit the tree where his head had just been. He quickly ducked and rolled into a new position and grabbed his bow, and swiftly nocking an arrow, he came up into position. He looked up and saw the largest…something…he had ever seen. Not quite human, but not quite animal, he had never seen anything like it. It was about 7 feet tall, and instead of hair, it had fur covering the top of its horned head, complete with vicious animal eyes and a man’s jaw, and razor-sharp teeth. Its broad furry shoulders led to long, muscled man’s arms, but the hands were talons. A man’s torso led down to furry animal legs, complete with the strange hoofed paws.

The creature ripped his ax from the tree as Vaydros fired his bow, hitting the creature square in the chest. It howled, then dropped into the mud. Vaydros heard rustling and knew there were more of these creatures heading straight for him. Two beasts burst out of the bushes, growling, saliva dripping from their mouths. He nocked two arrows at once and fired, hitting one creature in the shoulder and another creature in the leg. As they descended on him in full force, he grabbed his daggers and managed a slice on another creatures arm before he had to duck to avoid beheading. He nearly panicked, having no idea what these animals were, and not having any idea what their weaknesses or their strengths were. He swung and slashed, evaded and parried as best he could, but it didn’t take him long to realize he was outmatched.

Pew! Pew! Pew! Pew! He heard the arrows whistle past him and hit the beasts in their hearts and necks. Killing blows, every one of them. He looked up at these creatures as they paused, stopping their attack on Vaydros. Arrows protruded from their bodies, their black blood beginning to flow from the wounds. They stared blankly at Vaydros and groaned, finally crumpling to the ground, dead. He stared, unable to look away from them, but then finally managed to turn his head to see who had saved him from a rather gruesome death. “A woman?” he thought to himself in amazement. A woman stood about 3 paces away, her silver bow still raised, an arrow still nocked and ready to fire, should the beasts twitch with any remaining life. She was tall, clad all in brown and hooded so he could not see her clearly, and she stared at him for what felt like years. Finally, she lowered her bow and walked to the beasts, bending to grab her arrows. As she rose, she turned and glanced at Vaydros and gave him a slow nod, then silently disappeared into the leafless trees.

“Wait!” Vaydros called after her, “uuhh….thank you…whoever you are…” He stared into the trees where she disappeared for a long moment, wondering if he had imagined her. There was no trace of her to track, the only evidence of her existence was these bizarre creatures, now dead. He turned and cautiously made his way to the beasts. A glint caught his eye, and he heaved one of the beasts onto its side. One of her arrows protruded from the beasts side. It was long and slender with delicate silvery fletching. He pulled it free of the dead creature and studied this thing of beauty. No, she was definitely not his imagination. He tucked her arrow into his bag and stood, pausing to stare at these creatures one last time before heading back to his camp.

In the ensuing months, Vaydros searched the faces of the people he saw, hoping to see her again. In every town he passed through, he asked the innkeepers and merchants if they knew her, and he sorely regretting having no name from her. Nobody recalled seeing a woman of her description and he grew less hopeful as he journeyed, but he continued his search anyways. She even appeared to him in his dreams…calling out to him, then disappearing into a fine mist as he approached. Every night, he stared at that arrow and thought about what he would say if he actually found her, but words failed him. He felt like a fool, practicing what he would say, knowing she would just as likely laugh at him as he stumbled over his words. Vaydros vowed that one day, he would finally repay her and thank her for saving his life.
On the rare occasions he managed to not think about her, he wondered about these creatures that he had seen. As he travelled, he began to hear more and more stories from villagers and farmers about these beasts that were half man, half animal. They were raiding farms and stealing sheep and slaughtering cows. To date, they had not raided a village, but anyone living outside the village boundaries was getting attacked in brutal ways. Something needed to be done….but what? How do you fight something when you don’t know what it is, or where it came from? He thought long and hard about his skirmish with them, trying to visualize every angle, every grunt and screech, and their manner of death. They had been strong. Very strong, actually…and though he had cut them deeply, they had hardly seemed to notice. Vaydros chewed his lip, a feeling of anxiety creeping in. Where had they come from, and what did they want?

A little over 3 months after his encounter with the bizarre creatures and the woman who saved him, Vaydros travelled down a well-worn road, heading towards the Caradyn. He had been to the Royal City once, two years earlier, and he had been amazed at the beauty of the city, particularly the royal palace. Gleaming white towers standing tall, liveried servants bustling about, smiles on their faces. The city itself was friendly, merchants hawking their wares, the cobblestone streets crowded with nobles and peasants alike. He smiled at the memories of the city and looked forward to finding a pleasant common room to share an ale or two, and perhaps some merchants would be willing to hire on a guard or two for a time. His coat was beginning to look rather worn, and he could use some new boots too. A movement in the corner of his eye snapped his head around and he halted, his grey eyes searching amongst the trees. In the distance he saw more movement, and he drew his bow and nocked an arrow, then silently slipped into the trees in quiet chase. As he watched the furtive movement, he decided it was a person, not one of those gruesome creatures. After several minutes of chase, Vaydros paused to look and listen. The woods were silent and nothing moved. Vaydros stared ahead, and then he heard it. There was no mistaking the distinctive creak of a bowstring being pulled taut, and he knew even before he turned around that he was in trouble. He lowered his bow and slowly turned around…and then his jaw dropped. It was her.