Chapter 5: Chapter 4: Hunting the Beast of Freljord 2
By evening, the group of hunters had reached the foot of the Dragon Ridge. According to legend, in ancient times, these places were inhabited by dragons so huge that they covered the entire sky with their bodies. One of these dragons was defeated and crashed into this land. A mountain was formed from its body, hence the name.
It is frightening to think what mighty creatures lived here if even such monsters were defeated. The mountains were not without their dangers: avalanches coming down from the peaks could bury an inadvertent traveler. Those who dared to overcome them had to face difficult tests. The cold was at its worst here, the biting wind turning living things to ice. Every careless step could cost a life, and there were steep slopes and dangerous precipices at every turn.
The hunting party was lucky: they didn't have to negotiate the most difficult sections, but were only slightly affected by the passage further on. The camp was set up on time, the sun had already set behind the horizon.
They were small communal tents made of animal skins. A small fire smoldered inside each one to keep the people warm. A small hole in the top served as an outlet for the smoke. Two hunters patrolled the area at night. The area was full of wild animals that might attack sleeping people. And brigands might pass through the area, carrying loot back to their settlements or on a new raid.
Kylen volunteered to be the first on duty. The cold didn't bother him, and he was hardly tired from the journey. He sat in a meditative position with his eyes closed. Still, his hearing was sharp, and through the wind he could hear the crunching of snow from someone's feet. In such conditions it was difficult to trust his eyes, and sometimes it was impossible to see anything further than an outstretched arm.
Not wanting to leave his friend behind, Jorund volunteered to go with him. He sat on a small platform surrounded by snowdrifts to protect him from the wind. A fire burned in the middle. Jorund sat beside it, trying to warm himself a little.
"Lucky you, brother. I wouldn't mind your powers either," Jorund admitted, his voice trembling. Even though all cold-bloods were resistant to the cold, it was still not the most pleasant thing to be out in the cold for so long.
"You know how I got it," Kylen said without opening his eyes. Everyone in the village knew the story . Freljord had taken the weak Kylen and turned him into a great warrior.
"I know, but I'm still jealous. When we go camping, I'll have my own boar. Then all the girls will ask to ride him, you'll see," Jorund imagined in a reverie.
"Hmm, he needs to be well trained and cared for. How long will that take, and we haven't caught them yet. The more you imagine that you already have it, the greater the disappointment when it doesn't come true." Kylen said wisely.
"Well, I'm sorry, we don't all think that high. I'm just a simple man who wants to eat and drink. I eat and drink," Jorund said proudly. Many of the villagers shared his opinion. They were not concerned with science, art, or other ideas peculiar to the South. The main goal was simple - to survive and keep their children from starving. On the one hand, it was a stagnation that had lasted for hundreds of years, but on the other hand, it allowed people to live.
"Hmm, you think if I'm hungry, I'll starve myself?" Kylen asked.
"I don't know, sometimes you'd fall into your meditation and sit there for a few days without waking up," Jorund said, adding wood.
"I'm getting to know our world," he replied simply.
"Sure, sure, explore your world and maybe Ingun will decide to marry me, ah..." Jorund wanted to continue, but he was interrupted by Kylen, who threw a stream of ice and extinguished the fire with his hand. His face frowned. - What, are you kidding me? No one's claiming your girlfriend, everyone.
"Shut up," Kylen said. His ears picked up a rustling of snow in the distance, as if someone was walking. Tensing, he tried to find the threat, but the sounds quickly drifted away and soon disappeared completely. The snow made it difficult to see who it was. "Who was walking near our camp."
Jorund realized immediately and sheathed his sword, trying to assess the situation.
"Calm down, whoever it was is gone. But we must be careful," Kylen said.
"Should I wake the others?" asked Jorund.
"Wake Bjorn. I'll look for footprints. We have to find out who it was before it gets muddy," Kylen ordered, getting up from his seat.
He headed in the direction of where the noise had come from. After a few hundred meters he came upon footprints that were almost covered in snow. They didn't look like animal tracks. They continued down the ridge. If they were human, they were probably scouts, but they could also be animals. Such thoughts swirled in Kylen's mind.
He searched the whole area, but found no one, so he returned to the camp. He saw Bjorn and Jorund standing there with their swords.
"Did you find them?" asked the older man.
"No, whoever it is is far away," the young man shook his head negatively.
"Good for you for responding so quickly. I heard that the harvest in the southern lands was poor. Many of the clans that plundered were unable to store enough food. If it's one of the scouts, he'll probably report back to us soon. They probably won't attack today. But they will. The question is when?" Bjorn thought.
"Will be ready," Kylen replied.
"How different," said Bjorn, "you will be replaced soon, so bear with me a little longer.
Bjorn returned to the tent. The friends continued their conversation, watching their surroundings carefully. The rest of the night passed without incident.
The group of hunters gathered their belongings and prepared to continue their journey. They were now alert, carefully scanning their surroundings. Caution slowed them down, as they often had to reconnoiter the route ahead and prepare for possible ambushes. No one wanted to risk their lives on the assumption that they would be forgotten or not attacked - such things did not last long in this land.
Using ice axes, the group of hunters traversed the rugged terrain of the mountains. The paths were narrow and dangerous. Thanks to Kylen's ability to create roads with ice, the route became much easier. As they passed a nearby mountain peak, Kylen sensed someone's gaze and, shifting his vision to it, saw the silhouette of someone disappear instantly. "Looks like we've really been spotted by bandits," he thought and relayed the information to Bjorn.
After the last part of the way, they came to the foot of the mountain. Here the terrain became flatter and vegetation began to appear. There was no wind outside, and the sun shone brightly, blinding their eyes.
The group approached a forest of white leaves. All the trees that grew here had white leaves. This anomaly added to the mystery and mystique of the place.
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- Draw your weapons and proceed with extreme caution," Bjorn ordered.
Half of the group drew their swords, the rest drew their bows. The forest was the perfect place for an ambush. The trees hid silhouettes perfectly, and the foliage could hide those waiting at the tops. The hunters did their best to watch for possible ambushes, but the forest was quiet and nothing stood out. Kylen scanned his surroundings, trying to sense an alien presence through nature. He walked ahead of the group, ready to use his magic for either attack or defense at any moment.
The silence became unnatural. Not even the rustling of leaves in the wind. Not even the sound of animals. Suddenly, a few yards away, the snow rose to reveal the entrenched brigands. Bows were drawn and arrows flew toward the group. Most missed, but one arrow struck the hunter in the throat, knocking him onto his back and staining the snow with blood.
Kylen raised his hand sharply above his head, and walls of ice rose from the ground, shielding the group from the raiders' arrows. The return fire from the hunters' bows killed two of the attackers. More bandits, armed with melee weapons, emerged from the forest shouting.
- Form up! Meet the enemy, archers to cover us," Bjorn shouted. The warriors with long range weapons stayed behind cover and fired at the enemy archers. Meanwhile, the four warriors lined up and prepared to meet the bandits.
Kylen was the first to enter the fray, summoning a wave of ice that froze several opponents. With one hand clenched into a fist, he put his palm down and began to form an ice sword in front of him.
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The bandit managed to get close, and as he drew his sword, his blade struck Kylen's. His sword swung and his arm was severed. He only had time to scream as his head separated from his body. The arm fell to the ground, followed by the head and body.
Sensing danger, Kylen built walls to his side. Arrows were immediately shot into them. He kicked at the ice with his foot, pushing it back in the expected direction of the archers. The archers in the trees were far away. And the missile had no effect. It had no effect. He pressed his palms together, concentrating the ice magic, and exhaled, and a multitude of ice projectiles flew toward the bandits.
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They tried to hide, but the scaled gunfire riddled them with branches.
The rest of the hunters joined the fight, reacting quickly to any movement of the enemies. The archers continued to shoot from a distance, reducing the number of attackers. The forest became a battlefield, the sounds of clashing steel, the gleam of blades and the whistle of arrows intertwined in a chaotic symphony.
Bjorn fought three enemies and was barely able to fend off their attacks, but Jorund rushed to his aid and knocked two of them to the ground. Seizing the moment, Bjorn dodged the attack, plunged his sword into the enemy's throat, and helped finish off the fallen bandits.
The enemy came at him from behind, leaning forward and dodging a backhanded kick. Then, turning, Kylen kicked him in the head. A quick hand punch to the jaw slipped under his legs. The brigand fell to the ground, his head already pierced by an ice spear created by Kylen.
Meanwhile, the hunters were fighting a superior number of enemies. It was only because of their experience that they were still alive, fending off the enemies with a single fist. They managed to hit a few of the enemies, but were also injured themselves.
Kylen noticed his companions' predicament and rushed to their aid. He fumbled his way forward, and when he nearly reached them, he planted himself on a pillar of ice above them. His fist swirled with the power of magic and slammed into the ground at the center of the enemy formation. Waves of icy spades spread out in a circle, piercing the enemies from below.
"Let's go! - A panicked cry rang out among them.
The survivors started to retreat. Kylen threw his magic in their direction a few more times, but didn't go after them. Her party was badly wounded.
The battlefield was covered in blood, and the snow was littered with the bodies of the brigands. They were dressed in animal skins and wore bone masks. The weapons were bulky and clumsy, clearly not having seen the hand of a master, but just as deadly.
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The group gathered around the body of their fallen comrade. An arrow pierced his throat, and as the battle continued, Tormir bled to death.
"Kylen, freeze his body. We'll take him to the village and give him a proper burial. You were a good warrior, Tormir," Bjorn said, his eyes closed in horror.
His body began to crust over with ice, so he could keep his appearance and the village could keep him according to tradition. Tormir left behind a family: a wife, a son, and a daughter. Another family lost a loved one in endless conflict.
"Let's treat our wounds and go home. We were unlucky to run into bandits, and with wounds like these we won't be able to catch our prey," Bjorn said sadly.
"Won't we avenge Tormir? He was our brother," cried one of the group.
"No, we don't know what clan they are from, and we can't find them. We can't find them, and if we run into another group, we'll lose someone again. Let's forget about revenge," Bjorn said. He had seen more than a few casualties among his comrades. He didn't want the others to lay down their heads in revenge.
"So our trek is useless?" Kylen asked.
"No, now we know that brigands have begun to operate here, and their scouts are everywhere, so we will save the lives of our settlement," Bjorn replied.
The party began the first treatment of their wounds with potions and medicinal ointments. Kylen had only a few small scratches that didn't require much intervention; he covered them with a small crust of ice to prevent bleeding.
After a short rest, they left the bodies of the brigands, and after picking up the body of the fallen, they decided to move away from the site of the battle. The blood would attract predators, and tired and wounded, they would find it difficult to defend themselves against the dangerous beasts. Predators would not go after the survivors, despite the smell, because the bodies of the dead are more attractive to predators.
Kylen thought about their journey: "Was it all for nothing and we're just going to leave? I refuse to return without a victory. If they won't go, I'll go alone. "With these thoughts he decided to approach Bjorn."
"I want to continue the hunt," Kylen said. The whole group froze and watched their conversation.
"Look, you're young, you have hot blood, but it doesn't make sense anymore. We must keep the warriors alive now, or the village's defenses will be weakened," Bjorn tried to make his point.
"I'll go alone, you can go back," Kylen said.
"Kylen, as the eldest, I order you to return to the village," Bjorn said in a threatening voice.
"No doubt you are the oldest, but are you stronger? Will our village starve again and get rid of weak children?" Kylen asked, standing up to face Bjorn. Anger showed on both their faces.
"The boy is right, this will bring many benefits to our clan. I am willing to give my life for my descendants," said Volkar, an old but still skilled hunter.
Looking around his group, Bjorn saw the support in their eyes at Kylen's words. He couldn't leave the strongest fighter of the clan alone.
"To hell with you, Kylen, if we all lay our heads there, it'll be your fault. You'll go and tell every widow that you're responsible for their husbands' deaths," Bjorn said in a bad mood. He turned and walked away, trying to calm down.
Jorund walked over to his friend, a cut on his cheek that would leave a scar. He laid a hand on Kylen's shoulder.
"Brother, I'm with you," his friend told him.
Kylen nodded at his friend's words. The hunting party rested for nearly two hours after the battle. When they had regained their strength, they made their way to the caves where the boars were supposed to live.
Observing the surroundings, they spotted the beast. The Drevassian boar moved on four limbs, had a massive build, and a very tough hide. Massive tusks protruded from its mouth, and the many sharp teeth in its jaws could easily bite a man in half. Their sharp tips could pick up the scent of prey from several miles away.
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It was a male, and he would leave the cave and return a few hours later with his prey. It seemed that the female could not come out and was now busy with her offspring. It was decided to wait for the male to come out and kill him and then take care of the female, which should not be too difficult.
The team prepared an ambush. When the boar comes out, they'll all attack at the same time. Kylen won't let him escape.
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