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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Paka" data-source="post: 995438" data-attributes="member: 100">The Ballad of Karhoun EsbenThe Great Manticore Hunt, Part II am Karhoun Esben and I am a hunter of the Shadow’s minions, a good man, a proud Northman.I had never been so proud.  In all of my life I have never fought alongside my fellow Northmen, always alongside Orcs or Goblins.  These are good men, soldiers and sailors, all looking to me because I am the hunter.Including Durgen and Odannin, his second in command, we had sixty men, 20 spears, 20 swords and 20 bows.  Our blessing is the Channeler, Elowan, who seems a beardless boy, a treasure Durgen has kept as a secret on his flagship for these past years.We held council, drawing in the gorge's sand, a place they suggested when I mentioned that we’d need somewhere confining, somewhere he couldn’t fly away once the trap was sprung.  The council was made of the finest Northmen I have ever fought met.  Sir Durgen, my mute brother, the madman usurper who leads these noble insurgents.  Odannin, my brother’s second in command and my brother's voice, translating my brother’s sign into words, his cleft-scarred skull holds its fair share of war-wisdom.  Cole, leader of the archers and Elowan, the beardless Channeler.To the south and west were cliff walls with nothing but rock and the occasional weed clinging fern.  North were waterfalls, making tremendous noise and putting mist everywhere.  At the bottom of the falls was a shallow pool and under the falls was a shallow cave.  East were woods, where we entered the gorge down a perilous slope.They looked to me with my Theros Obsidia training, using the Shadow’s training in treachery and cunning against one of the Shadow’s minions.  This fight was going to be filthy, using every dirty little trick I knew.The waterfall would deaden its hearing, which was good, the beast had amazing senses.  Next I would deaden its smell.  They had brought bodies with them, so they could claim they were trophies, dead insurgents.  We would put the corpses to different use.The Manticore loves nothing more than eating.  We would roast him a feast.  We will gorge the monster and when its belly is fat and it feels like napping, fat and lazy, we will strike with arrows and steel.We hid archers in the woods and behind the waterfall.  Spearmen were in a pit under the pile of bodies that I would cook.  Some men would act as new travel companions and help me cook him dinner.  We would tell the Manticore that Unaros had summoned him but he was praying behind the waterfall, in the shadows.Sir Durgen’s unconscious squire, Kylie, would be hidden in the cave with half of the archers, bound and gagged in case the creature can sense the shadow’s taint, if any such thing can be smelled.  The other half of the arches would be hidden in the woods, another pit.  Cole thought the waterfall might do harm to the archer’s bowstrings but it was a chance we had to take.Elowan will be alone on top of the cliff, ready to rain magicks down and keep the creature from flying away.  He tried to explain his spell to me but I have no mind for it.  If it would bind the Manticore’s wings it was fine enough for me.  Durgen would have no battleplan hinged on magicks and so we tied five barbed spears with ropes, hoping to keep the creature anchored if need be.  Durgen apologizes that he cannot spare men to guard Elowan while he hides above us on top of the cliff.If it gets away it would destroy our boats on the distant shore and hunt us to the last…if we were lucky.  If we were unlucky it would flee and tell of our treachery.  My hope was that it would be too vain to flee, or too hungry for more man-flesh.  No, my hope is that it won’t get away, that we will kill the bastard.We would wait for Elowan to cast the Web upon its wings and then we would attack.Then it was a flurry of activity as Northmen dug pits for hiding, piled the Manticore’s meal and made sure they were hidden from the air.  I had never even considered killing this beast when I met it last.  It was far beyond my meager sword’s mortal reach.  I thought to myself:  This is no angry Oruk who has stolen your sword.  This is a monster, bred by Izrador himself to hunt and kill men.I am the only one the Manticore has met and so I will be the one who talks to it while it eats.  I shuddered to think that I would be matching wits with this beast.  I know the wilds and bladework but this game is new.  If I lose I die.  Ancestors please watch my tongue.In frustration and nerves I cleaved a dead tree next to the pool with my newly won Vardatch.  We used the wood to begin the cooking fire.  Durgen throws in the Manticore spike, freely given to Unaros when we were in Whitecliff.  It fizzles as it burns.  The Manticore has been summoned.  We have no idea when it will arrive.The bodies begin to cook and after the hair is burned off the smell is not bad.  I am ashamed to admit that my mouth watered.  Perhaps I am weak.The wait was agony.  The late afternoon’s sun went down and shadows grew.  Naturally, it would appear at night.  The cooking fire casted a terrible glow over the falls, making everything appear ominous.I prayed to Ull for the hunt and offered a prayer to Tyr, who put his hand in the Fenris Wolf’s mouth.  A flap of wings was heard overhead.  It circled once and circled again.  Then it flew away.After minutes that felt like days it landed, red fur glowing in the firelight, bearded face wider and more ferocious than any face should be.  Its wings folded neatly behind its back and it perched on a bed of rock across from the fire.The Manticore asked, “Did your Legate summon me, Esben-spawn?” I bowed, “My father sends his regards from Port Esben, great Manticore.”Its eyes narrowed and without another word it flew away again.  Thinking back, mention of my father would arouse my suspicion too.  After a few minutes it landed again, claws flexing, scraping the rock.Again, I bowed, “Unaros is praying in that cave, Lord Manticore.”“Then summon him to me.  I have no time to waste on young, ambitious Legates.”I nodded and motioned to the fire, “He ordered that I not interrupt his meditations but I am to feast you if you are kind enough to wait.”A deep purr came from its lion-ish body, bat wings folded on its red furred back.  I brought the Manticore the first of its man-flesh.  It smelled the body carefully, thinking of my father’s penchant for poisons, no doubt.  Then, it tore into the body, claws flexed, teeth rending.  Blood and organs spilled out onto the rock.  In three gulps and the twig-like snaps of uncounted bones it was done.  It had swallowed a man in the time it takes me to draw a bow and fire it.It wiped its mouth with the back of its paw and purred again, “More, Esben-spawn, bring me more.”I did, I brought the beast five more roasted bodies and it ate each one.No spell, no magicks came down to bind its wings.While it digested its five man meal, the Manticore and I made pleasant conversation.</blockquote>

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