𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐌'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐘 | ❝ Great works are performed not by strength but by perseverance. ❞
A quest to complete a bestiary leads Ruselm to force the infamous witcher Geralt, of Rivia, to accompany him during his travels after many ins...
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ALMOST GREEDILY, RUSELM tore the paper from its place on the town's notice board so the material crinkled between his fingers. He drank in the hastily drawn image of the little beast rumored to be living in the woods around Sodden, a small thing that couldn't possibly be causing any of the village's problems but was considered a nuisance nonetheless for his thievish escapades. The locals had nicknamed this creature Obil, 'the Carrot-Stealing Devil.' It was more of a title than a nickname when Ruselm thought about the matter.
Obil was a member of the echinopsae family, which further explained him and his quirks, moreso than Ruselm could have figured out on his own without knowing the species he was dealing with. Echinops were kin of hedgehogs and covered in very long razor-sharp spines that, when threatened, were rumored to be able to shoot up to ten paces away. Ruselm had heard stories of men running into echinopsae before, of how they'd seen the spines shatter on impact and watched as the pieces dug infinitely deeper into their bodies to inflict the maximum damage.
Knowing the bashful nature of the echinops, Ruselm was curious as to how this creature could possibly cause a dog's "ear to have a bloody hole" when the echinopsae only attacked if threatened and in danger. Their spines are so long that when these creatures are immobile, they resemble clumps of grass; that's how reclusive they generally are.
It didn't make sense that an echinops would suddenly attack, unprovoked, as these accounts on the notice board seemed to indicate.
Sure, he steals their carrots, Ruselm reasoned with himself. But that just means he's hungry. What if food in the forest is dwindling? What if he's stocking up? There's nothing wrong in that.
A massive shoulder bumps into Ruselm's; the one the she-warg had cut into as if he were as malleable as a tuft of cotton, and the pain angrily shot up his neck. It had been less than a week since the incident in the forest, and a day since Geralt of Rivia had departed from Sodden's area, heading south much to Ruselm's displeasure and near-constant begging of the witcher to stay and divulge his witcher's secrets. The final straw had been, according to Geralt, seeing Ruselm pester passing merchants day in and out. Nevertheless, his shoulder was still tender and rapidly changed his mood.
He turned faster than a snake striking the unsuspecting hand and snapped fearlessly with a wounded voice at the colossal man who'd ran into him. "Excuse me, good sir, but kindly watch where you walk!"
The man turned back to Ruselm. His arms were as large as the Nazairian's head, chest broad and rippling with ironlike muscle, and he stood a whole head and a half taller than Ruselm. The impolite man towered over him, crossing his arms over his chest. They were cords of pure muscle, Ruselm supposed he must work in a forge or perhaps he was a blacksmith but either way he could easily crush him under one hand.
