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The Great Hunt
A long time ago, when Wehnimer's Landing really was a frontier outpost, there was a hunting lodge outside town patronized by the finest hunters in the area. Their top hunter was Maddock Hawkspur, a rugged Human who had already battled a sabre-tooth tiger naked and unarmed and come out ahead.
Maddock Hawkspur was tall and broad with black hair straight down to his waist. His face was halved by an ugly scar that traveled from his right eye, across his nose, down to his jawline. He'd got that one when he wrestled a bear at age twelve. His hands were as large as a giantman's; when he cracked his knuckles men would startle as if the roof timbers were in the midst of breaking, and an avalanche of wood and snow were about to fall on everyone. He was forty-five years old.
The Black Bruin Lodge -- that's what it was called -- made the decision one year to sponsor a great Hunt, primarily to showcase their own champion. A hundred million silvers (quite the fortune in a frontier town) was put up as the prize for whomever could slay the elusive Blue Wolf that had been haunting the mountains for the past half a century.
The entry fee was a million silvers. Each prospective hunter had to prove his or her mettle by entering a cave and facing off against a bear for a quarter-hour, weaponless but for wits. Many of the contestants who had the silvers balked at this and were turned away. Many others were pulled out after a few minutes with the bear, and others were killed. News of the tests were all over the town, and the Landing folk followed them as they'd followed news of Turamzzyrian forays and Krolvin incursions in the past. This was the event of the decade.
In the end only five entrants had both the silver and the cunning to meet the requirements. Thunis Ironfire, a hardened Dwarf and a highly regarded hunter among her people, had easily handed over the million and taken but five minutes to subdue the bear in its cave. She was all scars and knotty muscle, with braided grey hair and steely eyes. On every finger was a ring of precious metal with a diamond or ruby or emerald set in it, and her short beard was wound through with gold thread.
Mikors Mikors was a crafty Halfling, full of winks and nudges and grins. He was known among the Halflings for having put an arrow straight through a record fifty-nine rings in a row during the Annual Nog-hollow Archery Contest. He was soft and round with a dashing wardrobe: bloused pantaloons, curly-toed boots, feathered cap and all. He had bright green eyes that never lost their twinkle.
Yuribad Norangar had produced the million silvers in the form of a single gold wheel that had to be brought in by cart, and no one could figure where he'd got it. The Giantman himself was a mystery. He was completely blind. He had seemed to follow the bear by smell and sound only, or by sheer will. He was tall and lean and perpetually carried a long fel staff on which he leant when at rest, betraying a clear weariness that seemed never to leave him.
Luthien Anui, an Elf of Ta'Nalfein, had put up all his wealth (as well as much he'd borrowed) to enter the contest. In the scrap with the bear he had been badly wounded in the side, but had perservered. He was pale and lithe, with the first creases of middle-age about his eyes, and silver hair dark enough it seemed black in twilight. There was a sharpness in his features and manner, but his clothing was threadbare and his voice too tended to unravel when he spoke.
And then there was Maddock, who stood with a smirk, arms over his chest, as the other entrants lined up beside him for the opening ceremony. Outside the north gate of the Landing they were gathered. The Black Bruins' master of ceremonies spoke to the large crowd, introduced each hunter, and finished with "This contest will not end until one of the hunters has returned with the hide of the Blue Wolf, or all have been killed!" And the five made ready to leave as the crowds cheered.
Yuribad Norangar felt his way along the line of hunters, shaking hands with a grim "Good luck, gods bless" to each. He hefted his large pack onto his back and shuffled northeast down the trail while the others watched. Before he disappeared, Maddock spoke up, "Don't make a fool of yourself, blind man. You're ten times as likely to fall in a ditch and break your head on a rock as you are to win." But he kept walking.
Mikors Mikors was a flurry of action as he laced up numerous laces and buckled numerous shiny buckles, his fine haon crossbow swinging from his back. "I hear the Blue Wolf was last seen on Vonspark Peak, I don't mind saying," he offered with a conspiratorial wink. "Tough country, that."
Maddock Hawkspur raised an eyebrow.
Jerking a small satchel over his shoulder, Luthien Anui shot a glance at the others before straightening his thin jacket and stalking eastward, stiff as a white-legged heron in winter. As he passed Maddock, the Human put out a boot and sent the Elf stumbling. Luthien whirled round with a flash of red in his cheeks and swung a fist at Maddock, but the Human intercepted it in one large hand and squeezed until something cracked.
"Human brute!"
"Weakling Elf. Go home to your feeble race."
"I'm tougher and stronger than you. And I'll prove it, won't I. Take your hands off me!"
Maddock slowly released his grip and crossed his arms again.
"Separate wager," breathed Luthien. "You and I. Another hundred million."
Maddock laughed out loud at this and looked around at the other hunters and his lodgemates. "Did you hear that?" He paused for the expected echo of laughter. "He wants to bet another hundred million, and he doesn't even have the silver for a week's rations. You'll never survive, you know that," he said directly to Luthien.
"A hundred million," said Luthien.
"That you'll survive?"
"That I'll win."
The Human roared with laughter. "How's this, frail thing. One hundred million you'll survive, I give you my word. But you won't." He patted his pocket. "Money's staying with me."
Luthien's eyes flashed. "And I give you my word that YOU won't survive!" With a growl that rose into a scream he spun around and strode off into the darkening wilds.
Mikors was laughing. "Oh my, oh my, oh my my my." He held his sides and drooped weakly, nearly collapsing to the ground. "Ha! Ha, ha! Now this I've got to see..." He glanced at Maddock and met the large man's stare with a defiant giggle. Then with a flippant toss of the hand he composed himself and turned off, heading north.
Thunis Ironfire was still quietly ordering her equipment, sharpening her blades and polishing her armor. Maddock strode over to loom by her shoulder. "Looks like you and me are the only real hunters here," he said in a low voice. Thunis shrugged. "Nice shield." Thunis continued polishing without a word.
"So what do you have to say for yourself, Dwarf?"
"Money's mine." She slung the shield over her shoulder and strode off southeast without giving the man so much as a glance. He stood looking after her, then turned to lodgemates. "You got it made, Mads, no contest," said one after a pause.
He smirked. "I do, don't I." He savored a confident silence. "A blind man, a lady Dwarf, a fairy furfoot and a whiny weakling." As the crowd dispersed into the town, he approached his lodgemates, embraced each and shook hands. The Lodge Master put an arm around him and whispered something in his ear. Maddock nodded. "I will. I'll bring honor to the lodge. You know Maddock Hawkspur." He clapped the elder man on the back and hefted his greatsword in a salute. "See you all in a month!"
A month passed and no hunter had returned to the lodge. The lodgemates and townsfolk too were running their own betting pools and some truly absurd amounts of money were being tossed about, but the betting had begun to stagnate in the absense of news. For all anyone knew, every hunter had already met death in the mountains.
Half a continent away and halfway up Vonspark Peak, something was stirring. As a sparkling wind whipped through the pass, tossing up dry flakes like charged motes to catch the very last of the sunlight, a deathly white and skeletal hand thrust up through the snow. It was followed a moment later by the head of its owner, white flecks in his silver hair and eyebrows like a crystal frost. He leapt from his snowy cocoon and shuddered, pulling off a worn blanket, and shook his head, letting fly a thousand flakes... then staggered to one side, gasping. There was a deep red stain in the hollow where he had been lying.
Luthien folded his blanket and fit it easily into his satchel with plenty of room to spare. As he did, a deep and low keening howl slid down the face of the mountain like the ghost of a snowslide, one long cold rush. The Elf was already shivering but this set his teeth to chattering as well. His skin was so white it put the new moonlight to shame. He could barely keep himself upright as he shut his eyes against the crystalline wind and groped forward, while the stars descended from the blackness, cold and near.
On the north face of the mountain, a campfire hissed. Maddock Hawkspur, Yuribad Norangar and Mikors Mikors passed around a wineskin. Blind Yuribad was telling the story of his adventures so far.
"I don't know what to think, I don't. Him jerking away at the vine like that while I'm trying to climb. That's more than unsportsmanlike. That's murderous." Yuribad passed a hand over his sightless eyes. "I thought it was my death. I heard him say he couldn't help it, and that's nonsense. He'd have me think he was in a furious struggle to hold on, but I knew he was already at the top. I heard him."
Mikors straightened up. "What did you do?"
"Held on." Yuribad shrugged. "He gave up and left."
Mikors sucked in a breath through his teeth. "I had my own run-in with him. It was early morning -- a beautiful one, I add -- and I was cooking up some bacon over the fire, and I turned around for the butter and he was right there. Said he'd come to see if I was well. We had a nice, forced chat about the weather then he left. Later that day I noticed I was missing two days' worth of food AND my warm blanket."
The fire popped loudly and a cascade of sparks burst skyward.
"I spoke with Thunis," Mikors went on, shaking his head. "She told me she nearly had to put an arrow through his neck." Yuribad turned an ear toward the Halfling. "She didn't say why." Mikors fingered his own bow absently, gazing into the fire.
Quiet and white as a moth, a huge owl appeared from the trees above their heads and disappeared down the mountain in a ghostly glide.
Maddock stirred with a rumbling grumble. "He tries anything with me, I kill him myself." He set down the wineskin with a frown. "I don't want to kill anyone. I just want to find the wolf and get back to the lodge, and have a hot bath. But there's no filthy Elf as crosses Maddock Hawkspur and lives."
After this the group fell into silence, but they sat for half an hour longer watching the fire, until the heat had flooded their bones and they withdrew to bed. On a stony outcropping three hundred feet above them, on the west face of the peak, a dwarf was hammering another spike into the rock, her fingers cold as the wind and twice as stiff. The broad moonlight glinted off her rings and steely eyes. On the opposite side of the mountain, now in complete darkness, an Elf hauled himself with bleeding hands up a sheer rock face. He paused, shuddering with deep breaths, then became still as death and dangled from his bloody fingertips. When the wolf howled again a few minutes later, he shivered into life and screamed out, heaving himself up another inch in the darkness.
That final morning dawned in a slow aching freeze, the sun buried so in grey-white. The clouds were so deep no one could have told, without prior knowledge of east from west, on which side of the sky the sun rested in its shroud. This day was night with the blackness leeched from its crystal ceiling. The air was icy and perfectly still save an occasional blast of wind from the top of the peak.
The cap of Vonspark had its own peaks, and rivers of ice flowed in their creep through the craggy fissures in between. Over the top of one such glacial flow, in sight of a wind-eroded fist of stone that stood a hundred feet above its plain, dividing the river, a speck of dark was moving. A long trail stretched out behind, off-white on white. Footprints.
Mikors stood on a high outcropping that made up part of the wall channeling the ice river down. He cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted to the figure on the ice, but the wind came and swept the words away as soon as they left him. Behind him on the slope of the outcropping were a dozen fissures leading deep inside, each with a large X marked in chalk by its entrance. With a great sigh Mikors pocketed his chalk and hurried down the jumbled rocks of the outcropping in short surefooted leaps.
Yuribad was waiting just on the edge of the glacier, leaning on his staff as the wind whipped his cloak about him. "You didn't find any trace," he said.
"No..." Mikors panted.
"I heard him. He's old. So old... he's been here since his mate died. That must have changed him... to make him sleep so far from food or warmth. He is very lonely."
"Perhaps it's right the wolf dies today, then, friend. We may be what he's been waiting for all along."
Yuribad thought for a long time, then nodded. Without a word he pointed with his staff to the upthrust of rock dividing the glacier, and he and Mikors began to make their way over the hard-packed snow.
Maddock Hawkspur had been offered a place beside Mikors and Yuribad, to slay the wolf as a team and split the reward, but had politely refused. He had set off in another direction when they parted and now crested a shale-strewn slope to see the glacier in its white sleep spread out before him... and a length of narrow footprints leading out from just the spot where he stood. He had taken his time climbing the shale but now burst into action, leaping into the snow and covering two of the footprints below him with every stride.
But Mikors could see the scene best from where he and Yuribad struggled through the snow. Inching down the sheer bank of the ice river just opposite them was another speck, in a crevice and hidden to anyone further down the flow. And then it seemed to happen all at once; though the caprice of time would have had the Halfling believe that moment was frozen as surely and as long as the rest of Vonspark Peak.
From the giant island of rock came a keening, ear-splitting howl, rushing down over the ice to cover them all in an avalanche of sound.
The nerves of Mikors' body turned cold and a metallic prickling fluttered over the back of his tongue. He was unable to move as he saw Thunis drop from the sheer face and step out to stand in dark contrast on the snow. She was not a hundred paces from the rock that was the source of the howl. Layered over the cry of the wolf then came a tremendous bellow from the ice, as Maddock realized that both Thunis and Luthien were between him and his prize.
Last of all was a high scream that cut through both sounds then disappeared as abruptly as Luthien's dark form on the ice, following the dying wolf cry into white nothing.
The snap of silence that followed was a fierce shock to the ears. All five hunters froze in their tracks for half a second. Then Maddock drew his sword, and the Halfling felt his blood finally heat as he instinctively reached for his crossbow. Yuribad groaned something in Giantman and sank down into the snow, covering his face in his hands. Across the ice, Thunis looked left, right, and bounded into the snow toward the rock.
Out in the middle of the river, Maddock Hawkspur was fuming. He raced forward, now taking three of Luthien's steps to his one, but came to a sliding, panicked halt when a deep blue fissure appeared in the glacier not an arm's length before of him. It had been invisible until he was nearly on top of it. There was a sickly drop in his gut as he saw his right foot slip out over the empty air of the fissure. He opened his mouth to scream; but when he landed hard on his back in the packed snow, the impact knocked the breath out of him.
He lay panting and gazed up at the sky, which was spotted now with a lighter grey as snowflakes began to drift down. He'd been in worse situations; and even if the Dwarf was ahead of him, finding the wolf was only half the ordeal. That was when when he felt a strange pressure on his ankle. Before he could sit up the pressure turned into a swift tug, and Maddock was jerked a foot forward over the chasm.
Instantly he spun onto his side, whipped out his sword and lifted his strong arms to plunge the blade directly into the ice before his head. He heard a crack and then a light tinkling as flakes of ice broke from the fissure's edge, now below his thigh, and spilled into the chasm. With a sturdy grip he clung to the blade's hilt, panting, and turned his head.
A ghostly white and bony hand was anchored onto his ankle. As he watched, its twin reached up to clap on beside, tugging Maddock out another inch over the edge. The Human gripped the hilt of his blade until his knuckles stood out pale. With a growl and a fierce thrust, he kicked his leg as hard as he could from his uncomfortably twisted position. He felt one hand shake off and instantly grab back on.
"Maddock! Don't kick, or you'll kill me!" Luthien's voice was thin with exhaustion. He worked his white fingers, twining them through and under the laces of Maddock's boot.
Maddock burst out with a laugh so hard his whole body shifted on the ice, and he heard Luthien grunt. "You've GOT to be kidding."
"I'll pull you off!"
"What? You'll pull me off if I refuse to... not kill you? What was that?"
Luthien hauled himself up a few inches on failing arms then suddenly let himself drop, dragging Maddock out another inch as the sword shifted in the hard snow. The Elf repeated the move and Maddock let loose another fierce kick in response.
"No more, Elf, or you'll kill us both." He used what little leverage he had to push the sword in a hair further, and looked back over his shoulder. Through a growing blizzard he could see Thunis beginning to scale the rock. "Why don't you just let go?"
"Would you?"
"Shut up and let go!" He kicked again, harder than he had before, and Luthien took advantage of the sway to thrust his own feet against the near wall of the fissure. The sword slipped another inch as Maddock was pulled further out. "You damn Elf! Let GO!"
"Pull me up, Maddock."
"Let go. I'm not pulling you up."
Maddock heard Luthien groan faintly and felt the Elf's weight go still. For a minute or more there was no movement from either of them, and Maddock wondered if Luthien might be dead or unconscious. Finally he let his forehead down onto the snow and heaved a great sigh. The sword shifted in the snow once until it rested clearly at an angle, and not a safe one. Maddock didn't move.
"Maddock, pull me up."
The Human remained silent. Snow collected on his back and broad shoulders.
"Pull me up." Luthien's voice had become very faint and he hung like a dead weight. "Maddock..."
Silence. The snow drifted down to cover them both.
"I'll give you anything. Pull me up. I don't want to die, Maddock. I'll do anything, I'll name my firstborn son after you, I'll tell him and everyone what you did for me. I'll do anything. Pull me up. Please, please, please..."
Another keening howl, a torrent of sound from above, pierced and shivered through them. The Human turned his head again just in time to see the dark form of Thunis disappear into a wide crack in the stone far away. The silence resumed.
"I don't want to die." The voice was a whisper.
Silence and snow.
"Maddock..."
Maddock shook his head softly. After a pause he said quietly, "All right."
There came a deep sigh from below.
"I don't know how, but I will. Don't move. If we both fall, I'm going to haunt your sorry ghost for eternity." A pained laugh floated up from the chasm.
Five minutes earlier, out of the view of either, Yuribad had taken Mikors onto his shoulders and made speed over the snow toward the fist of rock. They had reached it and begun to climb. Now Mikors looked back and realized what had happened. Luthien's whereabouts were still undiscernable, but Maddock lay prostrate in the snow before the hairline crack of a long blue fissure.
"They're both down there, Yuribad."
"We have to help."
Mikors hesitated, and looked up at the cleft in the rock from which the howls had come. He abruptly turned and began scrambling upward again, toward the goal. "I'll still split the money with you, Yuri. I promise. But I can't turn back." He scrambled up and over a stony ridge before the Giantman could reply.
Yuribad Norangarr carefully felt ahead with his staff as he began to ease himself back down the rock. He had gone only a few steps before he heard a horrible snarling and the sound of something hard scraping rock. A fierce howl tore down through his body, making icicles of his veins. The Blue Wolf had been flushed out.
He heard Thunis yell, "Halfing! Out of the way!" and the hiss of a bolt being fired. For a miserable second Yuribad agonized, then turned to feel his way up the rock.
Far below, Maddock was tiring. The sweat stood out cold on his brow. He heard Luthien's labored breathing and the quiet drift of snowflakes; his arms were on fire, and the knee of the leg that Luthien gripped was a solid mass of pain. When the wolf's howl ripped through them again he startled, then felt a sickening flash of terror as the sword slipped out of the snow as easily as from a sheath.
Maddock let loose a terrible scream and jerked his leaden arms upward, ramming the sword in to the hilt with one furious thrust. His yell turned hoarse and tears stood in his eyes as he forced the muscles of his arms to clench, pulling himself forward slowly... then in one last excruciating contraction as the sword slipped out again. The blade tumbled soundlessly into the blue depths. Maddock brought his other leg up and shifted to saftety on the snow.
When he looked over the edge of the fissure he saw the Elf had passed out, his fingers cramped in their desperate positions. Maddock Hawkspur braced himself and leaned forward where he sat, grabbed the wrists of Luthien Anui and slowly drew him up onto the snow as a final mournful howl chilled the lonely peak. They were alive.
Our story ends here; there's nothing left that matters but a few comments on the fate of our heroes.
Thunis Ironfire was the victor in the First Great Hunt of Black Bruin lodge. Her name remained on a silver plaque in their halls until the lodge was abandoned and torn down some years ago; her million silvers were, no doubt, invested and invested again and are probably still making the Ironfire family very rich.
Mikors Mikors got one shot off before the wolf was on him. He was dragged out from under the jaws of death by blind Yuribad Norangarr, who received a fatal wound to the head that day. Mikors told that before the Giantman died, he looked around him in wonder and said that he could see; and that the snow and the mountains were all he dreamt of beauty. The Halfling himself escorted Yuribad's body back to his tribe and remained with them a year in grieving.
Maddock Hawkspur was a man of his word. He brought honor to his lodge in the end not by slaying the Blue Wolf but by sacrificing victory to save his enemy. And he followed through in friendship on a vow made in anger, when he gutted the Hawkspur coffers to deliver a million silvers to Ta'Nalfein, greatly cheering the recovering Elf.
By the time he was called upon to fullfill his own vow some hundred years later, Luthien Anui had long stopped corresponding with Maddock and the incident had faded to a slightly embarrassing story he would tell only after much convincing. But Luthien was a man (or Elf) of his word as well; on one count, anyway. His first child, a boy, was named indeed after the great and noble hunter of Wehnimer's Landing. And Lord Luthien Anui, though somewhat less than noble while young, also became a great man in time... and a better father.
I only hope to do my name justice.
Maddock Hawkspur Anui