Guild Of Zeroes

Chapter 4

The weather had soured on us by the time everything was set and we were ready to go through with our hunt. The sky was a dull grey and a damp chill clung to the air. After hours of trudging through the forest I was soaked to the bone from the unrelenting drizzle and none too happy about it. We were crouched on a low rise that ran in a semi circle around a damp gully. The ridge was heavy with brush and birch saplings while below was mostly moss and stagnant water. I shook my head. All this wet was not good for my bow.

"You know what?" Herschel said with a dark laugh. "If these things get pissed enough, we'll all be warm and dry soon."

"Right." I knocked an arrow and squinted down at the clearing below. "And we'll be good and crispy too."

"You sure this is going to work?"

"I don't see why not."

Herschel gestured down to the clearing below us. "Not that I'm doubting you but I don't see any Drakes down there."

"Just wait."

"Did we use the wrong bait?"

I shook my head. "I've never known a drake to pass up fresh meat like that." The village was prohibited from hunting deer, but I wasn't. Thanks to that handy loophole, a fresh carcass was strung up as bait. The leaves across from us rustled. "Here we go."

Herschel loaded his crossbow and leaned forward, squinting, shoulders tense, hands holding the weapon in a white knuckled grip.

The beast skulking in the underbrush let out a low growl and a column of steam rose from the bushes. Roaring, the Drake leapt from the underbrush and dug its claws into the deer carcass. The Drake was the size of a horse and thick cords of muscle rippled under its scaly hide. It's back and its joints were covered in heavy, bony plates and a crest of vibrant orange spines crested the top of its head. I stood and drew the bowstring back letting out a breath and steadying my aim. I released the string and the bow sang out with a sharp twang. The arrow leapt down into the clearing and slapped off the Drakes forehead with a hard snap. A volley of crossbow bolts answered it. Sharp points rolled off the monsters back like water off a duck's back and it let go of the deer, screaming in fury.

An answering cry rang out from our side of the clearing and the other half of our force rushed forward with spears, harrying the rear of the beast. I pulled back another arrow and let fly. This one found its mark sinking into the meat between the Drake's neck and shoulder. It's stomach heaved and a dribble of liquid spilled down from the corner of it's jaws. The drool caught fire and pooled in the wet leaves below. Steam hissed and smoke curled into the air.

"He's going to bust," I shouted. "Keep him focused here."

The Drake made a throaty wet sound that was somewhere between a belch and a roar and a jet of burning gel spewed through it's open maw.

I ducked behind a tree trunk, suddenly thankful I was surrounded by damp bark and wet moss. The heat was blistering and part of me, the reasonable part, I'm sure, wanted nothing more than to throw myself to the ground and wait for the monster to go away. That part wasn't in control right now. I drew the bow again and stepped out from cover. The spearmen were making progress and the beast was bleeding from several small cuts. One spear had struck true and three farm hands were wrenching on it, holding the Drakes leg in place. Another spear bit deep into its hamstring. It was pinned now. It was time to deal the killing blow. The drake met my eyes and I saw nothing but hatred there. It tilted its head, redirecting the stream of burning bile. I loosed the arrow. The shaft parted the stream of fire and the arrow buried itself in the soft flesh on the roof of its mouth. The stream of flame slowed to a trickle and the Drake fell.