Whistler's Pass, 5108 (short story)
Title: Whistler's Pass I, 5108
Author: player of Charna Ja'Varrel'Kav
Phoen’s kiss touched the high glacial peaks of Whistler’s Pass and caused a prismatic swirl of colors to dance on the snowy slopes. The colorful light trickled down to the coniferous vegetation of the forest that ringed the peaks and was quickly consumed in its thickening depths. Sunlight would not touch the lower points of the valleys between the peaks for many hours, though it would lend the shadowy expanses a somber grey hue that was a minor relief from the dark of night.
Without the sunlight to warm it, the deeper sections of the pass were colder than some of the highest points and it was in these shadows that the young half-elf roamed. Cold and slightly bruised from her recent flight out of Ice Mule Trace, she wandered the trails between trees with a dog at her side that nearly reached her shoulders.
She’d exited the mine shafts of the Dwarves several hours previously, her tiny frame trembling at the chill winds that coursed through the higher ranges. More than once she’d noted to herself that if she were full-blooded she’d naturally have no problems with the arctic temperatures, and just as frequently cursed her human father for giving her this lingering chill that would not abate.
Her feet were encased in ice that was starting to send stabbing pains up her calves, and the wounds she’d earned from the previous days were beginning to burn. She had created impromptu poultices to wrap against them, not wanting to alert any of the locals of her exact location, but the traveling had aggravated them beyond proper healing and oddly enough the fresh flow of her own blood down her left side was the only warmth she left. Fleetingly, she wondered if that too hot drip heralded a fever, but stumbled and quickly lost the thought in the accompanying pangs of pain.
Though he’d been born in the southern tropics of River’s Rest on the borders of Hendor, the mastiff seemed unaffected by the chill climates. He roamed through the trees and pathways at an easy gait, his ears shifting here and there at various sounds. She had tended to him with the utmost of attention after their previous encounters. If he could speak to her, he’d have chided her for the attention she gave to him instead of turning it inward to herself where it belonged. More frequent than not, the mastiff would come close to her side to encourage her on or whimper in sympathy when she seemed to stumble.
The growing numbness in her extremities seemed to be seeping closer and closer to the dull ache of longing and pain that weighed so heavily in her heart. Or perhaps, it was that inner despair and weight that was spreading outward to her limbs and not the arctic winds.
She trudged on in silence with barely enough will in her heart to hope that the coming sun would warm her.
---
Slanting through the trees they watched her, their shadows growing longer as the light of Phoen wheedled its way across the peaks. The slender pine trees were nearly bare at the tops, their pine needles scattered about the snow-strewn grounds, but they were growing thicker the further she wound her path and it was there that they would make their presence known.
They picked their way along the limbs of the snow-crowned conifers, stepping lightly through the breaks in the sheets of green needles. Their lanky forms swept along with alien grace, shrouds of dark tattered fabric stirring occasionally in the crisp gusts of tundra wind. Their movements held a certain quality more of animal than man, accentuated by their occasional pauses to taste the air.
The pack only vaguely followed the faint tracks in the snow below, cutting across and back again as often as not, driven forward by an instinct to track. Their passing brought an unnatural hush to the world about them, leaving only the brief rustle of branch and needle as their touched down upon their next perch.
They were getting closer, and they knew it. The air held that sweet tang of blood and ichor which drove them ever onward, and it was growing stronger, thicker. It flooded their senses, and this seemed to hasten their movement, their feet barely touching down upon a branch before leaping off to the next.
---
Sunlight at long last cut through the mist of cold that clung to the trees and crunching snow of the forested pass. She stopped as it touched her bright pink cheek, and turned her face into its golden rays. There was always light, she reminded herself, and the cold that gripped her heart clenched spasmodically.
With enough light at last with which to see by, she began to slowly unravel herself from her coverings to get a clear view of what her night's walking had done to the wound at her side. She shivered at the sudden cold that her release of the blanket allowed inward and marveled that she should be sweating while shivering. The mastiff’s anxious sounds at her side only confirmed for her that things were not going well.
With numb fingers, she worked her pauldrons from her shoulders and began to slowly ease her way out of her corselet. Each buckle bore a new jarring of her cold body, and her breath was soon ragged from the exertion. The larger pieces of the armor were worked off of her slight frame and unceremoniously dropped to the ground beside her blanket.
Her vision swam with tiny pinpricks of golden light. As she swayed from the momentary effects of vertigo, the mastiff drew closer to her and added his weight to her legs. If he had been only a few hands taller, she’d have forgone embarrassment and ridden him to the gates of Illistim, and in the condition she was in, he’d probably have let her.
Not wanting to let the cold seep closer to her bones, she shrugged her way back into her fleece-lined longcoat with a small sigh of relief. She didn’t, however, button it closed but instead dipped her fingers to her tunic to pull it free of her thick pants and coiling belt. The natural-hued linen was saturated with a warm sanguine liquid that was lightly pigmented with green from forgotten herbs.
Frowning, she gingerly prodded the wound.
They stopped suddenly, the pack as one, perching on hand and foot two score hands above the snow-blanketed ground. Crimson speckles shone brightly against the pristine white to one side of the fresh tracks. One of the tatter-shrouded forms clambered down the trunk from its resting place and examined the droplets curiously.
A clawed hand wrapped haphazardly with dirty linen strips stretched forth to touch the blood-stained snow and up to touch its blackened lips. A sibilant hiss issued from its mouth accompanied by a small cloud of mist that formed in the air before it. Its body wracked with strange shudders as it crouched in the snow. A wheeze followed, shaking the creature’s shoulders with twisted mirth.
Suddenly, it was off, padding along the trail cut through the snow-laden ground. A rustle filled the air above, the rest of its pack mates following suit and dropping the occasional drift of snow from branch to ground. The creature ran on, its pace accelerated, clawed hands hanging limply at its sides and behind.
The scent of its prey was thick in the air, more pungent than it had been the entire night before. The quarry had stopped, and the wounds inflicted from the beast’s predecessors were exposed. The chill air betrayed the pair ahead, carrying along with it a trail more surely than any left along the ground. The pack closed in, its movement little more than a whisper on the wind.
Further ahead, the mastiff's nose twitched as a crisp breeze cut through the trees from behind the pair, and a low growl escaped his now bared teeth. His head turned away from the girl, ears twitching to catch something his eyes did not see. She noticed his behavior, looking up from the bandage she had begun applying to the wound in her side. Unconsciously, she brushed some stray hair from her face with crimson-tipped fingers, eyeing her companion.
Another growl slipped through the mastiff's teeth, this one louder than the last. The girl put her feet beneath her, coming up in a low crouch, her eyes scanning the snowy landscape around her.
"Wha’ is it," she asked, "Wha’ duh ye see?" The mastiff stirred and backed toward her, his ears turning this way and that, flattening back in the moments between.
Adrenaline quickened her blood causing her pain and fatigue to fade from the forefront of her thoughts. Instinctively, she reached for her khopesh while simultaneously scanning the trees where her companion’s gaze lingered.
A brief glance was given to the armor at her feet, and she mourned the loss of its protection. She knew she’d lose more time, and energy as wounded as she was, strapping it back in place if she tried to retrieve it. She also knew that in critical moments it might force her to expose more weaknesses as she was encumbered with its many bindings.
Instead, she rose slowly to her feet and stepped away from the accruements to warily seek something to safely place at her exposed back. The mastiff moved in step with her, his head tilted at the distance with a low growl dripping from his throat. His stance was wide, and his nostrils flared with each breath he drew in.
Like lightning, a sudden thought streaked across her mind and she began to cajole the powers of nature to answer her plea. The cold was swiftly leaking from her limbs as the last words of the spell tumbled from her pale lips and within seconds she had melted into her surroundings.
The air grew silent, a stark death eating away at the land around her. She felt it at her core, a void where there was slight warmth before. Branches swayed as a quiet rustle filled the stillness, a stray cone dropping to the ground below a nearby tree. Her eyes darted, searching out what she knew was there but could not see, something that was stalking her.
With the gaze of vultures on carrion, they moved about her in a circle that slowly tightened into a constrictive ring. The coppery sweet scent of her blood called to them strongly. There she was, and they would not lose her. Where other's had failed, they would triumph and the small fire-haired bane of the now crumbling Alliance would be refueled by her death.
An unbearable weight settled upon her from across the clearing and she knew with certainty that the threat emanated from there. Shifting her weight, she felt her spell bleed away from the strain of time and knew that the sheltering shadows were slipping away. Her breath grew heavy with anticipation, and the mastiff at her side let loose a wild howl that tore through the chill forest. Birds took to flight from their silent perches hidden in the canopy above, snow littering the ground at their departure.
The thought of her death curled the lips of the one on the ground into a maniacal grin, flashing crimson-stained teeth. Its tongue flicked at the air, seeking to taste her presence. Its nearby brethren turned slightly to regard it, standing a bit taller and straighter than the hunched forms of the others. Leaning forward slightly, drawing its arms into a ready stance, it sped forward, eyes fixed on the spot where the girl and her mastiff had been only moments before. It could still smell her.
Her eyes found them the moment they broke through the surrounding brush. The one before her, taller than the others, rushed directly to where she was crouched and ready. Another pair burst forth to her left and right, quickly closing the intervening distance. The mastiff's hackles rose as he lowered his head to the ground, a deep growl vibrating through his chest to escape between his bared teeth. His ears twitched, and so did hers, but a moment too late. She was already diving to her left when a fourth beast loamed directly before her escape path.
Her momentum sent her tumbling into the creature's legs even though she tried to tuck her body into a tight ball that might allow her to roll free. The beast struck out at her exposed back with its ebon claws. They found purchase in her coat, snagging at the hem and reducing it to jagged rents of fleece and suede.
The mastiff, on the other hand, broke right and dashed between two of the creatures. In passing, he dipped his muzzle to the one nearest him and tore into its ankle. Driving onward, the mastiff shook its head sending reddish-black blood in an arc across the pristine snows. The creature howled in pure agony and tumbled into a tree headfirst, the impact pulping its collar bone and neck with a sickening crunch.
Across the clearing, the girl reversed her momentum and rolled to the balls of her feet as she performed a wild slash with her khopesh. The blade tore through the pit of one creature's arm and up through its shoulder, sending the arm hurling away onto the ground. Reversing her blade at the last possible moment, she brought the hilt towards its snapping head. The blow connected straight into the crease of the creature's jaw, dropping it to the ground. She spun free as it began to twitch in its death throes. Her eyes sought the snow-covered ground as she rapidly tried to access her situation.
Too many, her mind screamed. She was only just joined in combat and already the original rush of adrenaline was beginning to bleed away, much like the now heavily flowing wound at her side. She watched as three more joined the fray, their steps paced out and slower. They would be more cautious now that they had seen her move, but they would also know where to strike.
She breathed raggedly, the cold air burning her lungs, and made an effort to calm the fine tremor that had started to race through her hands. Planting her shield in the ground she softly began another plea to the powers of nature, one different from the first. She caught sight of the mastiff slowly circling back into the clearing to her left, and she knew she could count on him to take that side, but still, there was her exposed right.
The last syllable of her spell formed on her lips and she rose to shout it into the cold air, the heat of her breath forming a mist that quickly filled with the hum and buzz of hundreds of insects. They broke across the creatures to her left and divided in half to drive two of the dark things to the ground. At the same time, the mastiff launched into the left and drove one beast into another. Their legs coiled and the trio went down into a ball of claws, maws, and limbs.
She rushed at the still-standing leader and drove her shield into his face while holding her khopesh at an angle to her body in an attempt to deflect the oncoming blow of his friend. The leader saw the blow coming and greeted her shield with open hands, his grip firmer and stronger than hers. She felt more than saw her khopesh sink into the other beast but was too busy wrestling for her shield to follow through with any kind of damaging blow.
Cracking loudly through the air, she heard the sound of her shoulder popping from its socket long before the shock of it registered through her torso. Within seconds her arm hung limply at her side, her shield somewhere far away from where the beast snapping at her throat had thrown it. Searing pain in her side bespoke the uselessness of her khopesh, which she vainly attempted to raise defensively before her.
Breath escaped her lungs in a rush, her feet having been swept from beneath her and by some miracle of fate, chance, or pure luck a dormant spell wrapped around her sent a swirl of earthy thorns into a protective shell about her. The wicked barbs deterred her two attackers from following through with what would assuredly be a death strike, the lashing ends gleaming with a sickly green liquid. Foam began to form on the smaller creature’s lips, a testament to the poison that dripped from its veins.
Lying on her back, she blinked dazedly as the leader came at her again. Her khopesh was up, the hilt held firmly in her right hand but her fingers were beginning to numb and blackness was creeping across her vision.