The Chronicles of a Scalebound Sage

Interlude [40.5] The War Merchant



He was panting with raspy breaths and his legs shook from exhaustion. His head pounded with a dull ache as he forced himself to keep walking. 

Any time he stopped he swore he heard it get closer. He could sense its eyes sizing him up just out of sight. He could all but feel the poison in his veins as if he’d already been bitten. He didn’t dare look back at what was certainly going to be his death. He did not want to look over his shoulder and see the eyes of the beast staring back at him.

The morning sun rose as he stumbled out of the final thicket to the bank of a small stream. He collapsed to the ground as the first rays of sun hit his furry face. He’d been desperately fleeing for hours and had nothing left to keep him pushing forward but his will to survive. He had expended his stamina and chakra, leaving him defenselessly sprawled on the ground.

One arm in front of the other, he pushed the little strength he had left into his arms. The soft ground allowed his claws to effortlessly dig into the dirt and drag him only a few more feet. Deep down he knew this was it. The beast would take this opportunity to finally end him. 

He closed his eyes when he heard rustling in the brush.

“Is that a person?” a voice called out. “Hey, there’s someone collapsed over here! Get someone!”

A teenage boy ran up to him as his eyes drew heavy. All of a sudden he could barely keep them open, and soon there was darkness.

 

The smell of pine was the first thing he noticed when a bump jolted him awake. He quickly sat up, only for dizziness to cause him to fall from whatever he was to the floor. A blanket was dragged down with him and the shaking of the ground didn’t stop. His head was pounding by this point, and his tongue stuck to the top of his dry mouth.

Where is this one?

He looked around, and slowly the space stopped spinning. He heard someone talking but could not focus well enough to understand at first. Something grabbed him, lifting him back onto the hard surface he’d been lying on before he fell. It took effort, but he could finally understand what the voice was saying to him.

“You are okay, try not to move around too much, brother.” The voice was female and concerned. “You are dehydrated, try to drink this.”

He had to focus even harder to realize she was holding a water skin. He took the skin and drank, feeling some relief  almost immediately. After a few minutes he could finally focus on the woman, expecting to see a wendigo, however she did not have antlers.

 As he could finally recognize more detail he saw she had long furry ears and a long, flat mohawk. There were tribal tattoos on nearly every available surface, to the point her skin tone might as well have been ink. Her eyes were glowing amber. She wore very little; modesty was definitely not a part of her species’ culture as there was nearly nothing left to the imagination.What she did have on was too big for her athletic frame. Hide armor suggested she was a warrior of some kind, maybe a monster hunter.

There was a teenage boy standing not too far behind her. He had the same physical traits and barely protective, too-large hide armor as the woman, but not as many tattoos. His hair was only shaved on one side; the rest was in a bun to keep it out of his face. 

It took a few more minutes for him to fully recognize he was in the back of a wagon. There were what looked to be beast corpses with them, fresh kills by the smell. 

His rescuers left him to his own devices after introducing themselves. The woman was apparently named Adelheid and the boy Falko. There was a man that he hadn’t seen named Alaric. 

The woman warned him against moving too much while he recovered. She and Falko then started organizing the mound of beast corpses. The boy would glance over to him every once and a while, but didn’t say anything.

“Thank you for saving this one,” he said in a raspy voice. “This one is called Sabec.”

“He talked!” Falko said with enthusiasm as he dropped the corpse he was in the middle of moving. “Are you feeling better? Why are you still in your beast form?” 

“Falko, I told you that is not a transformation. Don’t be rude!” Adelheid admonished. “He’s a gnoll, not a werewolf like us.”

They are werewolves, yes. Now their choice of clothing makes sense to this one.

Werewolves were a nomadic species of monster and beast hunters. Their lesser forms, the lycaon, was a transformation which they changed into when hunting. The form was larger than their humanoid one, and far more deadly. His clan would normally stay away from werewolf tribes, as every member in the tribe was trained to be a warrior, making capture more difficult and not worth the risk for slaves. 

“I wasn’t being rude,” Falko stated. “You just make stuff up, especially when you don’t know something. So, how am I supposed to trust whatever you have to say?”

The two started bickering back and forth about whether Sabec was a werewolf or a gnoll. He was too tired to speak up over them, so he just let them get progressively more rambunctious. Until they started fighting; the boy was obviously much weaker and less skilled than the woman. She easily put him in an under arm choke hold when he threw a punch. She let him go once he calmed down and smacked his exposed belly with an open palm, which caused him to yelp in pain.

Sabec lowered his head. “She speaks true, yes. This one is a gnoll. This is how Sabec's kind appear.”

Adelheild stuck her tongue out at the boy, who grumbled under his breath.

“Don’t mind my idiot brother,” Adelheild said. “We found you completely by coincidence, collapsed on the bank of some river. We had to bring you with us. Leaving you would have pretty much guaranteed you would’ve gotten eaten by something. We’re close to Lavi now.”

“Lavi?” Sabec quickly stood and walked to the tailgate.

“You probably shouldn’t be getting up so quickly,” Adelheid cautioned.

Sabec didn’t listen. Instead he leaned out of the wagon and saw the massive walls of the Fort City spread out before him. 

It was where the beast was supposed to be going. He was worried it would find him or his scent if he were to go in. He looked out into the forest; it was nightfall again and he was unsure of what to do. If the beast hadn’t chased after him that meant it must have gone back to its master. Sabec was worried that it would have made it back to his mate. 

Would she have been able to kill it? He would have to travel back to find out.

He prepared to jump out of the wagon but stopped himself. He turned back around and faced his rescuers. It was obvious they saw the panic in his eyes. Good: he needed them to be on his side. If the beast was out there, who would be better to kill it than beast hunters like themselves.

“Is everything alright, Sabec?” Falko asked.

“The truth is, this one was being hunted,” he said with genuine sadness. “That is why Sabec was collapsed where you found him. A girl traveling with a convoy sent her familiar to massacre this one's family. As far as Sabec knows, he is the only survivor.”

“That’s awful!” Adelheild said in outrage.

“This one wishes to see what became of his pack, but fears venturing alone, lest Sabec be slain. Sabec is a merchant. Can this one hire you all as guards? The familiar is a hydra, a powerful three-headed beast…”

The wagon came to an abrupt stop, nearly throwing them all to the ground. The third member of this little werewolf pack burst into the wagon bed with the rest of them. He was an older man with a long, braided beard. He was easily the same height as Sabec and twice as muscular. The old werewolf was covered in tribal tattoos and  battle scars.

“A hydra? In these parts?” Alaric's voice was deep. “That’s an odd creature to have as a familiar. Dangerous and foolish to keep around for any extended time, even if the wendigo have a high affinity to familiar contracts.”

“This hydra was a Greater Hydra, yes.” Sabec said.

The old werewolf’s expression turned sour. “Then the girl is corrupted and the hydra needs to be killed. There are many creatures that can not be made into familiars. Greater Hydras are one such creature. Their existence is poison and their bonds corrupt the mind of those they are connected to, like a slow acting venom. Please, Sabec, tell me more about this hydra and what happened to you.” 


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