Zion - LotNM Character Prologue (Bahrla Splithoof)
Zion - Light of the New Moon
Prologue, Bahrla Splithoof
Unlike the rest of her squad, Bahrla never considered passing through the inner walls of Myre to be 'coming home'. She was part of a patrol unit in charge of sweeping the agriculture grounds of the city twice a day. As such, the minotaur woman spent most of her time with various guards, soldiers, and scouts who considered the semi-tamed farmlands to be "the wilds". She chuckled scornfully at the thought; none of them truly understood what it meant to be exposed to the real Wild Lands.
Bahrla respected the fact that the city dwellers did what they could to create a buffer between themselves and the lands beyond, but she found their lack of knowledge and understanding to be grating in even the best of circumstances. The two soldiers behind her talking were one such situation.
"Did you see the SIZE of that 'Gobbler'?" one of the soldiers, a weasel noted enthusiastically to his compatriot, a short, slightly pudgy badger, "I'm surprise it didn't charge us!"
"Man... it was HUGE! Had to have been two... maybe three times the size of a dog! I don't think I've ever seen one of em that big before..." the badger replied with just as much energy. Bahrla grit her teeth, trying the best to ignore their inane chatter-- she failed.
"They aren't called 'Gobblers'." she spun around to address them, "They are called 'Snap-Jaws'."
"Well... their jaws snap, and they gobble... so the way I see it the name could go either way." the badger announced.
"I think 'Gobbler' sounds better." the weasel noted.
"...and it wasn't fully grown." Bahrla continued, unabated.
"It looked pretty damn big to me." the weasel offered.
"It was an adolescent." the minotaur woman snorted.
"It was still really big." the badger explained, "...and it hissed."
"The fully grown ones do worse than hiss... they can tear off one of your limbs, swallow it, and then go back for another before you have a chance to scream." she stated flatly.
"Well... I'm glad we don't fight the fully grown ones then, eh?" the weasel smirked, slapping the badger on the shoulder good naturedly.
Bahrla sighed, banging her helm with a fist,"No wonder the cities need divine protection... not a single one of you could possibly survive a day in the Wild Lands." her scowl deepened and she trudged on ahead, eager to get away from the pathetic excuse for soldiers. Bahrla knew that the majority of the city dwellers didn't have the first idea about what it was like in the Wild Lands, but their continued ignorance and blatant lack of understanding got to her regardless.
Although she realized the time in the city had dulled her senses more than she liked, Bahrla was still astute enough to tell that something was wrong. She stood at the crossroads of two main streets; the guards behind her were just coming in through the gate but she realized that the three of them were not alone. It was late enough at night that nobody would have a reasonable excuse for being on the street unless it was an emergency... and emergencies were not quiet affairs. The guards, as expected, were oblivious to the concern.
"Our patrol of the southern fields is complete." the badger noted officially to the weasel.
"Our patrol of the southern fields is complete." the weasel confirmed, repeating the proclamation. It was a rule... a guideline of sorts... a ritual. Bahrla knew well enough that it was her responsibility to adhere to the customs of Myre, but a stronger law called to her at that moment... one she had been following long before she came into the city: she heeded the law of the Wild Lands... and said nothing.
"Hey!" the weasel shouted, moving toward her along the path.
"Stay there." she held a hand up and toward him, not bothering to look back.
"Finish the announcement." the badger stated, moving to join the weasel. He continued toward her, "I wanna go home, and we don't finish our shift until you confirm we're done."
"We are not done." the minotaur woman declared.
"Listen, Splithoof..." the weasel announced, continuing toward her, "When we're outside the city you might have a thing or two to say worth listening to, but we grew up here. This is OUR specialty. So when we're in the city and we say we're done, then we're--" the soldier paused, his attention drawn toward a figure hobbling into view beneath a flickering street lamp. The weasel stopped beside Bahrla. "Hey!" he called to the figure, "You there!"
The figure beneath the light paused, then continued shuffling along. Long, leathery robe dragged across the street as it walked, a cloak of some kind with a hood hid the guards' view of its face. The weasel went to intercept the cloaked figure, but Bahrla quickly grabbed hold of his tail and yanked him back. "OW! DAMN IT!" the weasel exclaimed, turning to regard the minotaur woman, "Do that again and I'll report you, Splithoof. That man is--"
"Not a man." Bahrla finished for the guard.
"Well he doesn't walk like a woman." the weasel scowled, "And it doesn't make a difference anyway... if he's out this late he's going to have to account for himself." and he moved to intercept the figure again.
"If you take one step closer you won't live long enough for me to say 'I told you so.'." Bahrla promised, "And I really do want to say 'I told you so.'."
"Maybe you'd better step back, Durz." the badger spoke up from further behind Bahrla.
The weasel snickered, "Oh come on... it's an old man in a coat... just look at the way he walks... it's not like he's danger--" the guard turned around to point at the figure, only to suddenly to find it missing from the street, "Wait a minute... where'd he--?"
A rapid blast of air followed by the rustle of leathery wings was all the warning Bahrla got and, with that, she dove to the ground. A loud, high pitched screech caused several loose pebbles on the ground to vibrate in place. Further ahead on the road, the weasel grabbed hold of his ears, blood seeping through the cracks in his fingers. He screamed in pain, doubling over... completely defenseless for what came next.
The hunched figure descended upon the weasel, landing atop him. The leathery folds which, until recently had resembled a robe or long coat, pulled open and half-extended, acting once again as the large, membranous wings that they were. The cowl covering the figure's head had retracted, revealing a furless head reminiscent of a scaled-bat, complete with large, triangular ears. The most prominent facial feature, however, wasn't noticeable until the top of the creature's head hinged almost 180 degrees, revealing rows upon rows of blade-like teeth, each the size of a dagger.
The weasel never saw the bite that cleanly severed his head; its teeth cleaved neatly through his metal armor, through fur and flesh, bone and sinew. Claws at the tips of the creature's wings latched onto the decapitated body as the thing's mouth clamped down on the stump of a neck... and raspy, slurping sounds filled the night at an easily heard, stomach-churning volume.
"Moon Mother preserve us!" the badger behind Bahrla noted, and she heard the sound of him drawing his sword.
"If a Night Rook got into Myre she's obviously not doing that fine a job." the minotaur countered, and drew her axe. She faced the creature, which, having just finished exanguinating the weasel, turned to her. Bahrla let out a bellowing roar and made to charge... but held her ground instead. Without further delay, the winged beast launched itself into the air.
"Where'd it go? Where'd it go?!" the badger shouted, spinning around this-way-and-that.
"It is air-born." Bahrla noted flatly, "It won't want to show itself in the light so it's taken to the sky." The minotaur calmly walked to where the dead weasel lay, reaching down to take the sword from his bloodless body.
"What do we do?!?" the badger questioned, his voice near-frantic.
"Stop shouting, and listen for it." Bahrla countered, steadying her stance. She lowered her head, closing her eyes, and tried to blot out the sound of the badger shaking in his armor. She tuned her senses to the sky, listening in for something... anything... and, after a long wait... she did. Drawing the sword back behind her, Bahrla whipped her arm forward, carrying the sword in a wide, overhand chop before letting it loose into the night sky.
She was rewarded with the sound of metal-in-flesh and, taking two steps to the side, Bahrla watched as the creature slammed into the road and skidded for several feet before coming to a stop. Drawing her axe, Bahrla quickly raised a hand as the badger came closer, "Stop... it is not dead."
"It isn't moving..." the badger countered, but he did stop. The two stood still, looking at the prone creature as it lay unmoving on the cobblestones. Its leathery hide was devoid of fur, scale, or feather. Two skeletal feet, each with three curved toes ending in curved, blade-like talons stuck out from beneath the leathery folds of its wings; Bahrla watched one of its toes twitch.
"It's waiting." the minotaur explained.
"For what?" he asked.
"For its wounds to heal." she answered.
"But... you threw a sword into it!" the badger objected, "It can't just--" and his words stuck in his throat at the sound of a sword falling to the ground, quite obviously no longer embedded in the creature.
"It is going to go after you next." Bahrla announced simply.
"Me?" the badger fidgeted, "But you're closer!" he reasoned.
"It hunts by heartbeat... and yours is at least twice as fast as mine." the minotaur announced, "Don't worry though... it won't get you."
"H-how do you know?" the badger asked, taking a step backward.
"Because I've deal with these things before." she explained, and hefted her axe up onto her shoulder, casually relaxing her stance. The moment her weapon was held up, the creature's wings snapped open and long, wickedly serrated claws scrambled for purchase on the cobblestone road and it launched itself, half-flying, half-jumping right at the badger. It's maw opened wide, teeth gleaming... and then Bahrla's axe descended.
The badger screamed, flailing his sword before him as the headless body of the beast collided with him and sent him stumbling into a heap. He squirmed beneath it for several moments, obviously not completely sure that it was dead. Bahrla trotted over and hefted it off of him, "You see? It didn't get you." she responded, leaving the badger to get up on his own as she went back to the decapitated head, which was writhing on the street and gnashing its teeth. Still holding the body firmly in her grip, she set about smashing the head with its own torso.
"I... I... that was..." the badger got to his feet, trembling.
"It was a Night Rook." Bahrla stated simply, "And it got into your city."
"But... the wards--" the badger objected.
"I don't know about your wards... just about these creatures." Bahrla stated.
"S-so... what now?" the badger asked, walking after her, sword forgotten on the street.
Bahrla looked at the badger flatly and, in casual, practiced monotone, replied, "Our patrol of the southern fields is complete." She walked off, heading back to the barracks, leaving the badger alone, shaken, and, she hoped, a little wiser.