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By Michele aka Ygraul Verdemorte |
Chapter 43. Heart Hunter |
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t noon they had turned north, veering away from the outpost at Ice Caves of Sorrow and heading toward the Stone Summit infested wilderness of the Ice Dome. Armand’s initial misgivings faded as Frida picked a flawless path over the snowy terrain. The air glistened with ice crystals and was bitingly cold against his face. Although he normally removed his mask when he was not in combat, Armand donned it now and found relief from the glare of sunlight off the ice as well. His exposed chin and mouth he covered with his scarf and a thick fur-lined hat protected his head and ears. Brigit was looking at him surreptitiously as they strode slowly over the crust of solidified snow. Her thoughts were warm and lascivious. He blushed when he realized the mask was exciting her for some odd reason. Considering most mesmers intended their mask to be intimidating or distracting, it was not exactly the response he had expected. Then again, Brigit was so obsessed with thoughts of their love-making, he fancied she would be excited by just about anything. “This pack is chafing me,” Dunham complained. Alesia banged into another tree causing a loud cascade of snow to drop from its upper branches. Cursing, she got up and brushed herself off before rejoining the party. “You’re making enough noise to raise the dead!” Armand grumbled under his breath. A peculiar sound caused a thrill of fear to crawl up his spine. It had a malevolent undertone, a cackling bark. And it was coming closer. He turned his head quickly and saw small gray shapes rustling through the brittle undergrowth, their leathern wings outstretched menacingly. Cursing, Armand dropped his pack, hauling his cane from its bindings and unhooking his silvery chakram from the frame. “Imps!” he shouted as he tossed the hat from his head. The chill air helped him to focus as the others dropped their packs and prepared for the coming battle. The ice imps were scuttling toward them at high speed, far too fast to outrun burdened as they were. Armand clenched his jaws as the sound of their crackling barks grated on his nerves. His stomach flopped in fear as Brigit strode out ahead of him, her blackened axe clenched at her side and a simple lightweight buckler strapped to her arm. A biting wind ruffled the charr fur that trimmed her rugged armors and the horned helmet gave her a distinctly savage appearance. He wanted to tell her to stay back, that it was dangerous to approach the vile creatures and draw their ire. But it was her role and his misgivings would only insult her courage. Her blade dripped with venom as she put her head down and rushed to meet the advancing line of hideous creatures. Uttering an oath to Balthazar she spun into their midst full of fury and menace, raking three of them in a mighty swing and poisoning the lot. Shaken back into action, Armand heard the brutish barks of the imps attuning to the realm of water. A vile incantation flowed from one of them and he instantly focused upon it, his body limned with chaotic potential as the creature and its nearest allies fell back in pain, screaming in frustration as he silenced the spell. Thom finally unhooked his axe and galloped in after Brigit, nearly pushing her over in his effort to assist in taking down one of the vile creatures. The beast dropped dead as Armand hexed another and narrowly stopped a third from releasing a maelstrom of swirling ice. It was then he glanced back to find Dunham and Alesia. Swearing, he looked on in dismay as the foolish monk and mesmer drew a second wave into their midst. Now they were surrounded and there was no way he would be able to stop all of them from using the devastating power of ice. “We have to run!” Armand shouted, realizing that the warriors were too focused on their immediate prey to see the overwhelming numbers of ice imps scudding toward them. Frida managed to set five of the newly arriving imps on fire with a brief incantation and the creatures snarled in response, their gangrel claws outstretched now as they called upon their element. Asuna nearly backed into him, narrowly avoiding the churning circle of deathly ice that streaked toward her. “Too many!” cried the monk. Brigit staggered through a devastating wall of blurring ice crystals as maelstroms erupted around her. She cried out in agony as one of the imps lashed her with a devastating blast and slowed her to a crawl, forcing her to endure the churning circles of death. Asuna wrapped her in a protective enchantment and the warrioress bit her lip, struggling to escape. Thom, however, remained in danger, his body cut to ribbons and the snow around him turning pink with his scattered blood as he threw himself bodily at the imps, profanities issuing drunkenly from his lips. Armand grasped Brigit’s wrist protectively as she reached his side and he dragged her toward a stand of snow-clad firs, hoping to hide from the menacing horde. Frida left a swathe of fire in her wake and staggered after them as her body was seized by an explosion of ice and her frozen limbs gave out on her. Asuna bravely fell back and prayed over her friend, releasing her from the freezing hex. The dwarven woman thanked her and regained her feet, stumping after them breathlessly. “We can’t abandon them!” Brigit cried as Dunham fled in the opposite direction and Alesia foolishly stood her ground and bonked an ice imp harmlessly on its demonic head with her staff. Armand pulled on her arm and discovered she was immensely strong and would not budge. “We have to,” he said, “They did not retreat when we asked them to and now we have to seize our opportunity to survive.” “We won’t survive long without our supplies,” Frida said harshly, wincing as Thom collapsed beneath the whirling throes of the imps’ terrifying spells. “Did we even kill any of them?” murmured Asuna, her visage pale amid her thick furs. Armand counted fifteen of the vile creatures and perhaps three lay dead upon the reddened snow. They were now chasing after Alesia and Dunham. “Come, we need to be away from here before the imps run out of things to play with,” Armand said, drawing them out of their horrified stupor. Gouts of steam flowed from Brigit’s nose but she did not resist him again. They struggled up a steep bank and nearly lost Asuna in a tree well as they started down the other side. Brigit scooped the little monk unceremoniously onto her shoulder and ran, overtaking Armand despite her burden. The telltale bark of angry imps followed them. “Gods curse them!” Brigit snapped, “Can you see how many, Armie?” He crawled toward the crest of the bank and peered over the top as Brigit set the startled monk down and hastily reapplied the poison to her axe. “Three,” he said, his voice low, “but if we do not take them out quick, there will be more. I think they’re part of the other band. They’re poking through our bags while those three come looking for us.” “Start moving,” Brigit said, “I’ll hang back and take them once they are far enough away from their friends.” Once more he had queasy misgivings about leaving her to face the vile creatures. He had never cared so deeply for another person and now that she was putting herself in harm’s way he was scared he would lose her. He urged Frida and Asuna down the slope and toward the shelter of an aspen copse, reassured by the tramp of Brigit’s hobnailed boots behind them. “Turn and fight!” Brigit snapped and he heard her roar of effort as steel bit into one of the nasty beasts. Armand spun around gracefully, rushing up to stop the imps with a hastily uttered syllable. The whirling ice of their potent spell was stopped, punctuated by an impish cry of frustration. All three of them were stung by his might and he hexed another, gratified that the three were already reeling under the effects of Brigit’s poison. His prey blasted him with a spear of gleaming ice conjured from the plane of water, foolishly ignoring his curse and dying with a bloodcurdling shriek when its efforts backfired. The remaining two were ablaze with Frida’s fire. One died amid a mist of blood as Brigit cleaved its chest open. A second joined it a moment later as it turned is winged back to them and attempted to flee. Panting, Brigit glanced back the way they had come, her blue eyes narrowing beneath her beastly helm. Reapplying the poison, she stood her ground, waiting as six more crested the rise and loomed over them for a moment, surveying the wreckage of their fallen cohorts. Armand swore. They could not outrun the creatures for they were better equipped to travel over the icy landscape and their icy snares would slow them to a miserable crawl. Brigit uttered a curse. Three or four they could handle, possibly even five, but six was daunting and that did not count the other six fondling their packs on the other side of the bank. If only their hired help had not proved so incredibly stupid. “If they are not too far scattered, I may be able to overwhelm them with fire,” Frida murmured. Brigit nodded and backed slowly away as the creatures shambled squawking and shrieking toward them. Seeing that here were only four humans against them, the imps grew bold and raced one other toward Brigit’s waiting blade. She staggered as ice rained down upon her. Once more Armand pinpointed one of the creatures summoning up a swirling maelstrom of ice and stopped it with a brutal surge of power. Brigit’s whirling envenomed axe was followed by a burst of violent flames that finished one before Armand could wrap a second in the vicious hex. He stopped a second attempt to create the vile storm of ice, gratified when the tightly clustered pack reeled as one with pain. Two more fell in rapid succession. “They’re all coming,” Asuna said grimly, her face lined with exhaustion, “I don’t know how long I can keep this up. Brigit is strong, but their spells are wicked and I have almost lost her once.” Frida scattered the remaining three with a storm of seething fire, enabling Brigit to break free and limp back toward them. Once she had escaped the swirling ice, she invoked her signet and healed herself. Armand could sense the fear huddled beneath her practiced warrior calm as she leaped gracefully back into battle and smote one of the creatures nearly in two, its body flying past her as she advanced on the remaining two. They fled from her back into the approaching line of the other six. Crying out in dismay, Brigit fled before a hail of ice, staggering and nearly frozen in place as she slipped and struggled to escape. They were doomed. Even had they managed to take out the other two, the remaining six shrieking down on them were death unleashed. Frida made a final valiant attempt to finish the other two, nailing their fleeing forms with a vicious ball of fire. It was a last act of defiance, satisfying in its success but short lived. “Come on, run!” Asuna shouted at him, tugging his sleeve. Armand could not tear his eyes away from Brigit struggling toward them, the ice lashing down around her as she screamed in pain. He tore his arm free of the monk’s grasp and ran out to her. They were doomed in any event, the imps would not let them go once Brigit was down. He would not abandon her now. “Don’t be a fool!” the monk screamed at him, “I can’t heal her, I gave it all I’ve got.” One of the imps dropped dead with three arrows feathering its breast. Armand turned his head sharply at the sound of whizzing arrows, his heart pounding a frightened staccato for he feared the Stone Summit had found them. It was then he saw a woman clad in hunting leathers, her fur-lined cloak drawn back as she nocked yet another arrow to her bowstring and let it fly with deadly precision. Her golden hair gleamed against the shadows of the fir trees and her face was strangely fierce yet childlike. Hope renewed, he focused his energies upon a casting imp and unleashed chaos upon them, frustrating their charge and causing them to recoil in pain. Nearly exhausted, he stole the energies powering an imp’s enchantment and exchanged it with a hex. The creature flung its icy spears one more time and then grew too confused to continue. He managed to sew the same confusion in a second creature, buying Brigit time to escape. Another he hexed to punish its casting, praying that between the rain of arrows and the sting of his prior spells it would die quickly. He saw one imp bleeding profusely and shattered its enchantment, gratified when the creature dropped to the ice in a violent flare of chaotic power. He started breathing again when Brigit regained her feet, trembling as she invoked her healing signet and spun around slowly to meet her foes. She did not envenom her blade, there was too little time. She lurched mechanically into battle, wounded and weary. Asuna struggled to help her as the exhausted monk drew on her final reserves while Frida lashed the imps with fire. The mysterious ranger pumped arrows into the foul beasts, stopping their tongues with precision strikes to their faces and skewering their vitals with others. Then the icy wilderness was silent but for the rasp of their breaths and the thundering of his heart. The cold burned in his lungs and all he wanted to do was sit down but he could not until he made sure Brigit was alright. He staggered to her side as she dropped to her shins, her armor darkened with blood. Once more she invoked her signet and she gathered him into her arms as he dropped down beside her. He wanted to plead with her never to do that again, his stomach seizing with fear at the very thought that he might have lost her and all the joy would drain from his life, the only joy he had known for so many lonely years. “I’m alright, Armie, don’t fret, my love,” she whispered, kissing him gently and drawing the mask from his face to gaze into his stricken eyes. He laughed awkwardly, amused that she had picked up on his emotional state so quickly when he was the mesmer. He rose stiffly and offered her a hand up which she received gratefully. Frida and Asuna strode toward them, the monk rushing forward to look at the wounds. “You saved me there a number of times. Thank you, Asuna,” Brigit murmured, “Who was shooting the arrows? For a minute there I thought Murdi had showed up.” Brigit followed Armand’s gaze as the ranger left the shelter of the trees and strode toward them casually, a silvery dragon-head horn bow clutched in one hand as she finished sliding an unused arrow back into her quiver. Armand subtly probed her surface thoughts, not wanting to awaken suspicion but trying to decide if they could trust her. She was afraid and curious but determined to hide her true feelings with bluster. “Thank you for helping us,” he said when the others appeared too tired and stunned, “I am Armand LeBlanc.” The woman drew closer. Her lithe frame was much shorter than he and Brigit but she still somehow managed to tower over Asuna. “May Melandru guide you,” she said, bowing gracefully, “I am Zenaida Alcyon.” Armand sensed her relief and he gazed up the hillside to the thick stand of fir trees where she had been hiding. No one followed her out of the deep shadows of the trees. An awkward silence clenched their little gathering and now that the fight was over, the chill air was bitter against their sweat soaked gear. “We should take a break and eat something,” Frida said, calling them back to the present, “That stand of trees Zenaida came from looks a safe place to hole up for an hour. Do you mind? We’ll gladly share our provender.” At this, the woman perked up and she nodded vigorously. “Is there any way we can reward you for helping us?” asked Brigit. “Well… there is one thing,” the ranger said hesitantly, casting her sky blue eyes down in embarrassment. “Please, ask it,” Armand encouraged. “I collect hearts… the imp hearts, not yours,” she said quickly, laughing at her blunder, “I was tracking them and hoping they’d separate and then I took a nap… and then the ruckus.” Brigit laughed and nodded. “All yours, I hate the little wretches.” The rest of them nodded in agreement and Zenaida fell in step with them as they went back to retrieve their bags. Armand was not surprised to discover no sign of Dunham, Alesia or Thom. He would no doubt run into them again some day in an outpost. Once everything was back in order, they retreated off the track to the shelter of the trees. Zenaida had cleared an area of the ice some time before and had created a decent fire pit. She fished more tinder from the depths of the tree wells while Frida gathered fallen branches and helped the ranger prepare a blaze. The dwarven elementalist waved aside Zenaida’s flint and steel and conjured a fire with a subtle gesture and a short incantation. Soon the five of them were curled up on oilskins upon the snow clasping warm tin cups full of a hot spicy concoction whose ingredients were closely guarded by Frida. Armand could taste the faint burn of liquor but there was also a creaminess that was most likely yak butter. Brigit downed her drink and wolfed down the oily biscuit that Frida passed out to each of them. Then, yawning, she set aside her helm and curled up beside Armand to use his lap for a pillow. He ran his fingers through her sweat dampened hair and lovingly draped a spare blanket over her. He watched Zenaida sitting across from him at the fire, sensing that she was enjoying the company and hospitality. Her marksmanship had impressed him, but more than that, her willingness to help a group of doomed strangers moved him more. “We could use someone with your skills,” he said, “Will you consider traveling with us?” She appeared puzzled by his request but he sensed the curiosity blazing brightly behind her delicate features. “Where are you headed? Ice Caves?” “We are on a quest to Moladune in search of a mysterious being known only as the Seer. Much danger lies in our path, but our mission is urgent.” Of course, he deliberately made it sound more dramatic, hoping to lure her in. Zenaida considered this for a moment, and shrugged. “I don’t see the harm in it,” she said flippantly, but he sensed her excitement, “I know every square inch of these mountains with the soles of my feet, yet still there are caves and grottos I did not dare to enter alone. Perhaps one of these is the lair of your Seer for I have never encountered this being you speak of.” “Then you will come?” “I could use a few more troll tusks, and the hearts of these disgusting imps. Mind, you would do well to travel with more care. While it was impressive watching you battle the imps, outnumbered as you were, you might have averted the danger by drawing only a few at a time.” Armand smiled despite his desire to explain that it was not their fault or intention. “Yes, we did gather too many.” “But it worked out somehow,” Zenaida said brightly, thanking Frida for a second helping of the spicy drink, “It always does.” Oddly, Armand felt a little vexed that the ranger had waited so long to help them. Then he detected an edge of mischief and relief that suggested her hesitation might have been due to fear more than anything else. How was she to know whether they were friend or foe? The mountains were dangerous at any time of year but winter was the most unforgiving season of all. It paid to be cautious. “Do you have any bedding or provisions? The journey will require more than what you carry now,” Frida asked. “I left my traveling gear with the Xunlai agent in Ice Caves. It’s only an hour or so from here and by the time I get geared up it’ll be nearing sunset. The taverner rents out his common room in the evening so we can sleep somewhere warm tonight. I fancy we’ll be longing for a warm bed before we’re through with your quest.” The suggestion had merit. Frida also seemed amenable to it. “Very well then, let us pack up and head for this outpost. In the morning, we shall resume our trek north,” Frida said. |
