an end to all things..

The sound of reed pipes drifted through the Illcanthar forest. Like echoes of a chorus the single pipes rose and fell with the breathing of the wind, and the people of Tillsdale sat around the solstice fire, leaning back against tree and stone as they watched the stars dance their way across the heavens to the sounds of the songs that brought forth images of the deep places of the forest.

The summer solstice festival was ending, and on the last night of revelry the folk of the dales took to the wooded areas to celebrate in the harmony of the earth. Mothers held daughters and fathers shared wineskins with sons as the families sat, listening to the songs of their ancestors.

They did not feel the eyes upon them.

They did not see the flashes of gold and red that stared from the darkness around the grove, watching, burning with hunger and a primal lust. They sat, oblivious to the silent steps of heavily muscled bodies that slipped through the forest as shadows of clouds across the moon.

They had no time to scream as the forms burst from the darkness. They felt the brutal tearing of flesh by fang and claw for only a heartbeat, broken bodies falling to the ground, their lifeblood flowing into the earth they had come to pay homage too.
They did not feel those fangs begin their gruesome feast.
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Like Ost, Eledan sought the shelter of deeper darkness, drifting from one patch to another like a child jumping from puddle to puddle after the rain. All this sneaking about sat uneasily with him, knotting the muscles between his shoulders and leaving a foul taste in his mouth. But he knew to be seen meant a swift and sure death as they raced through the forest away from Tillsdale.

Dressed in leathers the two men were garbed for the hunt. Eledans fingers cramped around an arrow strung to the bow that a handful of days before had brought down his first kill.

Their prey tonight was far more dangerous.

Eledan had never seen anyone move like Ost did now. Sinews and muscles flexed and bunched as the tracker flowed through the darkness as smoke curling from a hearths fire.

Eledan was stunned at this change in his friend. The look in Ost’s eyes was a sight he hoped to never see again. A look of pain, rage, and vengeance yet untaken, and the older man held his two long bladed hunting knives in clenched fists as he scanned the forest.

All patterns of mentor and student were gone now. Eledan and Ost were dancing together in a partnership of heart and body as they reacted together to watch the forest around them. Moving with one purpose they heard nothing, saw nothing, but the feeling of unease that had settled over the once joyful woods was palpable.

It had only been a few hours since the attack in the elder grove, and the scent of blood on the wind, and the unnatural howls and roars that cracked the night like thunderbolts had reached the men in the village who had stayed behind to watch the town during the last night of solstice. Ost’s head had snapped up at the sounds, his mouth set in a grim line as he ordered Eledan to get the knives and the bow they wore now as they made their way through the forest towards the grove.

Ost’s wife and daughter had been among those in the grove this night.

I wonder if we will find anyone alive Eledan though to himself as they approached the grove. How quickly his mind had shut out the cries of the beasts. He knew in his heart what they would find.

The reality still took the breath from his lungs, and an involuntary gasp escaped his throat as they crept into sight of the elder grove.

The bodies of the slaughtered villagers were barely recognizable. Teeth marks scored the pieces left from the beasts in their hunger, and blood soaked the stones and boles of the mighty oak and ironwood that had stood sentinel over the countless centuries.

Eledan glanced beside him to check for Ost, only to find he had slipped away into the darkness. He swung his gaze across the underbrush, searching for signs to where he had gone. Eledan crouched low to the forest floor, the scent of earth masking the smells of blood and death that curled around him like a living thing. He looked more frantically as sweat started to bead on his forehead, knuckles turning white as he gripped his bow in a fist he wasn’t sure he could release if he wanted to. He could feel the darkness growing around him as clouds moved to obscure the moon, and he began to tremble with a growing fear.

He knew they had not left. They waited still. He could feel their breath on the night breeze.
He knew they still hunted.

Eledan swallowed his fear and started to rise from his crouch, preparing to meet whatever foe he knew lurked in the darkness around him.

Then Ost stepped from the trees, entering the elder grove.

He gazed in horror as his old friend swiftly made his way across the grove to two crumpled forms, half devoured in the beast’s fury. The old man knelt beside them and took a limp hand in his, raising it to his lips in a token of farewell.

Sensing the howl more than hearing it, he froze, his muscles seizing as he watched Ost rise to his feet, hunting knives glittering like fangs in the scant moonlight. The old tracker tilted his head to the heavens and roared his rage at the few stars he could see. His challenge was answered in kind, and the beasts moved from the forest, gliding on silent feet towards the huge man who stood alone in the center of the grove.

The beasts dwarfed the hunter. Standing ten stones high they resembled wolves more than men. Things out of the darkest legends their hugely muscled bodies rippled like water as they stalked the lone warrior who stood gazing down at the bodies of his loved ones.

The night exploded into a fury of motion as the two beasts leaped towards Ost. But the old tracker was already moving, falling to one knee he hurled a knife into the throat of the lead wolf-man, not even sparing it a second glance as it fell. He dove forward; twisting to face his other enemy. Ost surged to his feet and spun his second knife in a glittering arc that lashed out towards the beast’s throat. He was matched by claws just as long and deadly. And those claws proved the quicker as they tore through the older mans ribcage and gouged deep into his sides, slashing and tearing.

Eledan screamed then, his mind working on instinct he raised and loosed an arrow that took the beast high in the back. The wolf-man hurled Ost to the ground as a child discards a forgotten toy and turned towards the young man. Eledan dropped his bow and pulled his knife from the sheath at his back, standing his ground as the beast approached, thoughts of fear gone as he watched Osts blood drip from the beast’s claws.

He did not see Ost rise to his feet behind the beast, his body broken and shattered from the swift caress of those claws. The old warrior surged forward, plunging his knife deep into the beast’s body, powerful arms circling the were-creatures neck as he pulled it farther back onto the knife that pierced its heart.

Eledan watched as beast and man fell together. He saw the head turn to gaze towards the bodies of his family. He watched the life fade from his friend’s eyes as the light from the stars finally went out.

He was left in darkness to weep. Eledan cradled his friend’s body, his sobs and screams of pain and loss echoing from the tree tops.

He did not see the cloaked figures, darker than the shadows slip from the forest and make their way among the corpses of the villagers. He did not feel the hands that caught him as he fell..