Ascent of the Holy Blade

Chapter 3

        The hunter waited patiently amid the branches of an ancient oak as his prey moved ever closer.  The scent of the young human’s sweat and the warmth he emitted through the layers of clothing he wore against the cold stirred the beast’s belly.  As the blood-lust grew to an uncontrollable fervor, the gorthin let out an unearthly wail and launched itself high into evening sky on powerful hind legs.  The creature spread its massive bat-like wings, blotting out the light of the freshly risen moon and casting its fearsome shadow across the snow covered ground.

        The human dropped the bundle of firewood that he had been collecting as the bone chilling screech tore through the brisk night air.  Spinning around he locked gazes with the loathsome monster, and was frozen in place with fear.  The gorthin let loose with a primordial roar of triumph at the sight of its helpless victim.  Folding its wings behind its body, the beast dove with talons outstretched, its razor sharp fangs revealed in a vicious snarl. 

        The young man, freed from his paralysis by the image of death hurtling towards him, ran like a spooked rabbit.  Fear and adrenaline driving his legs faster and faster as he pounded his way through the drifting snow.  His heart drummed in his ears as at any moment he expected to feel those cruel talons tear into his fleeing form.  Tripping over a buried rock he fell face first into the snow.  That rock saved his life as he felt the wind from the diving beast pass over his prone body.  A howl of frustration escaped the gorthin’s mouth as it banked hard skyward to avoid a large snow-shrouded tree.

        A calm overcame Galen then.  He knew that he could not reach the village before the monster would overtake him.  The fear drained away, replaced with a fierce anger.  Yesterday had been his eighteenth birthday, and he had passed into manhood according to village custom, but he had ran like a child at the first sign of danger.  Squaring his shoulders, Galen Stoutheart drew the longbow his father had given him the day before and notched an arrow.  Powerful muscles drew back the great bow while gray-green eyes, that shone with a focus beyond his years, sighted down the shaft at the beast’s broad chest.   Galen released the bowstring but he had not allowed for the beast's speed, and the arrow tore through one of the gorthin’s leathery wings, but fortunately disabling it. The gorthin crashed heavily into a grove of young saplings, splintering many of themand impaling itself.

        Galen got a good look at the monster as it withdrew itself from the grove.  It was covered with coal black fur and walked erect like a man, except it stood two heads taller than the tallest man in the village.  The head was a cross between a wolf and a man.  Fangs the size of a man’s thumb gnashed together in pain as it pulled a large stake-like splinter from its side.  A trail of blood lay behind the beast as it trudged its way towards the young man, its right arm hanging useless at its side.  Galen drew the bow again.  This time his aim was true, and the arrow sank up to the fletching in the monster’s chest.  Taking one final step, the monster collapsed onto the snow.  Blood flowed from the wound at an unnatural rate and form a crimson pool in a sea of white.

        Galen knew that he had to hurry; the scent of blood would attract wolves to the area.  He wanted to take the beast’s corpse back to the elder’s to identify,  but it was too heavy and awkward to carry.  He looked around thoughtfully, and when he saw the splintered grove, an idea came to mind.

        After gathering two saplings twice the beast’s length, Galen shaved the bark off in long strips using his hand ax and tied them first to one pole and then the other, creating a cradle for the beast’s body.  He then used the remaining strips to fashion a harness to aid with pulling the stretcher. 

        Not far off, a wolf howled and was answered by two more,  each one in a different direction than the others.  Ice formed in Galen’s gut--he had to move fast.  Stepping towards the gorthin’s inert body, he slipped in the bloody snow and landed flat on his back.  He carefully regained his footing, but was covered in the beast’s blood.