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Hero- the Unknown Territories Page 4
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Most of the time this so impressed the monster, Tilger had already run it through before the beast remembered to kill him. It was really a beautiful thing to see... except this time.
From a dead run, Sho came to an abrupt stop, slinging Tilger out of the saddle, his sword singing as it left the sheath.
He savored the feeling of being momentarily airborne. It all went downhill from there.
Tilger began his tuck and tried to pull his sword to his side, but it had other plans as it sailed ahead. Suddenly, Tilger had become the tail end of a three-foot dart, unable to control it.
He was about to let go when the sword's point dug solidly into the dirt, transforming it to a catapult, and Tilger was whipped forward. He held on in panic, bending the sword beyond its limits and it snapped in two with a sickening ring.
Tilger careened into the belly of the monster with a dusty thud, and fell to the ground in a daze.
So happy not to be moving, he lay in the cool shade, completely unaware that a twelve-foot-tall eating machine was the source of the shade.
The monster was accustomed to people running from it; having someone actually throw themselves into it had fully caught it off guard. Puzzled by this, rather than shred the flesh off this human and eat him outright, it waited to see what other oddities he might perform.
Remembering there was a reason he was laying in the dirt, Tilger looked around and up into the face of the monster. Well, it really couldn't be called a face. It was more like a forest of interlocking fangs with a couple of eyes where someone had managed to find free space.
With a growl, Tilger leapt to his feet and set upon the monster with sword and fury. Though he got off to a bad start, he thought he was making up for it with several slashes and stabs and the monster hadn't laid a paw on him.
If he wasn't so occupied, he would have noticed that the monster hadn't tried.
The monster’s patience had paid off and now this human was doing something else baffling.
With all the stabbing and hacking, Tilger realized he wasn't making much progress. By now there should have been chunks of monster meat piling up around him. That's when he noticed his sword was missing one of its more vital parts. Looking behind him, he saw the broken blade sticking out of the ground. He dropped the sword handle and ran for the pointed blade.
With some relief, the monster felt it was back on familiar ground; people running away was something it had lots of experience with. It took off after Tilger, and easily caught up with him in a couple of strides.
There wasn't a backup-back up sword Sho could bring to his friend, but that didn't mean he'd just give up. Sho charged and kicked at the monster.
The creature noticed Sho's intrusion long enough to whack him with the back of its knobbly fist, sending the horse to the ground, out cold.
The monster raised itself up to its full height. As it spread its arms open, jagged spines rose from its arms and chest. Tilger looked for something, anything to fight with, but there was nothing. He realized he was about to die and there wasn't anything he could do. For the first time in his life, he felt completely powerless; it was the most terrible feeling he'd ever experienced.
The monster bent forward and swept its arms together to take Tilger into its barbed embrace, when there was a brilliant flash between, throwing Tilger to the ground and making the dazzled monster stumbling back. From the flash of light an old man in green robes appeared in front of him.
"By the way," said Ravenbeak, matter-of-factly to Tilger, "you'll have to… why are you on the ground?"
Tilger pointed behind the wizard at the monster, which was blinking in confusion.
Ravenbeak looked over his shoulder, then leaned a little to his left and then to his right to see around the monster. Shrugging, he turned back to Tilger.
"Yes, well, whatever it was it's gone now," said Ravenbeak. "Now, I was thinking..."
The monster had given up trying to make sense of what was going on and went back to what it did best; arms spread wide, barbs exposed, it attacked Ravenbeak.
"Look out," shouted Tilger. He leapt to his feet to pull Ravenbeakfrom harm's way.
Annoyed, Ravenbeak looked over his shoulder again. "Oh, that," he said, flicking his hand. The monster froze in mid-attack.
Turning back, his eyebrows rose in surprise to see Tilger almost upon him. "What are you doing?"
The hero stopped. "Saving you," said Tilger.
"From?"
Tilger looked up at the paralyzed monster. "Well," he said.
The monster looked at the both of them with a dismal expression and a pitiful whimper.
"Never mind," said Tilger.
"I've forgotten to tell you something,” said Ravenbeak.
With the danger of the monster out of the way, Tilger's anger with the wizard returned. "My horse," he demanded.
"What about him?"
Tilger pointed to Sho, who was still laying senseless on the ground. "Look what at what your trouble has caused."
"Oh my," said Ravenbeak. He quickly walked over to Sho and waved his hand over him. A moment later Sho's eyes opened. He looked around calm, but bewildered.
"You'll be all right," said Ravenbeak kindly.
Sho got up and shook off the dust. He nuzzled Ravenbeak, who patted him in return.
"It's not my fault he was hurt," said Ravenbeak. "I can't control every monster that takes a dislike to you, which I'm sure is most of them."
Straightening out his ruffled robes, Ravenbeak looked at Tilger crossly. "It's Sho's bad luck that he gets knocked about trying to protect you."
"That's not what I meant," said Tilger. "You cast a spell on him and now he's huge, and not only that, but so is everything on him. All of my things are too big to fit me."
"Enough," said Ravenbeak. "I didn't come here to be offended."
POP! Ravenbeak was gone.
Shaking with frustration, vehement cursing was sputtering its way to Tilger's lips. At that moment, the monster was released from its paralysis.
It experimented with its arms and legs to make sure it was free, and once satisfied everything was in working order, it was back to business. It came at Tilger, gnashing its fangs.
Tilger was no better off than before, and death looked very near.
POP! The monster froze again as Ravenbeak appeared between them again, sticking an accusing finger in Tilger's face.
"You are intolerably annoying, rude and ungrateful," snapped Ravenbeak. "Did you know that? And don't interrupt."
Tilger wasn't saying anything. It wasn't easy for him to quickly switch from accepting imminent death to feeling indignation at being insulted.
The monster whimpered plaintively.
“Nor you," Ravenbeak scolded the beast. "Now," he said, turning his attention back to Tilger. "I didn't do anything to your horse. It's you that's changed."
"Me?"
"You see?" said Ravenbeak. "You are completely blind to your own faults. You could be missing a leg and you'd blame the world for being lopsided."
Tilger looked at Ravenbeak, uncomprehending.
"Well, look at yourself," said Ravenbeak. With a brief chant, the wizard conjured a full length mirror in front of Tilger, who yelped and leapt back from the reflection.
"Who is that?" asked Tilger.
"That's you. It's your reflection.”
"My…?”
"Reflection, yes," said Ravenbeak.
As Tilger touched his face he saw his reflection do the same. He yelped again.
"Please stop doing that," said Ravenbeak.
"That can't be me," said Tilger, pointing to the mirror. "He's a... a..."
"A weakling?" said Ravenbeak.
"Yes," said Tilger.
"A milksop?" asked Ravenbeak.
"Uh, huh," nodded Tilger.
"Ugly?"
"Yes."
"A..."
"All right," said Tilger. "I understand. What have you done to me? I demand that you removed this curse, or by R
oath's Fist, I'll..."
"All in due time," said Ravenbeak. "All in due time. But for now you'll listen, and be sure you do because your life may very well depend on the words I speak."
Ravenbeak sat down and motioned for Tilger to do the same.
Tilger was so angry he could barely stand still let alone sit, but Ravenbeak showed no sign of speaking until Tilger was sitting.
"If it means being rid of you sooner, fine." He sat with a huff. "And I want my armor back."
Satisfied, Ravenbeak began. "First of all, it isn't a curse. It's a spell. I can't tell you how annoying it is when people confuse the two. You'd think that with so much magic in the world, people would take just the smallest effort to learn these things. I mean, really, how hard is it? Secondly, you'll get your armor back, but by your own hand. And," Ravenbeak emphasized, cutting off Tilger as he was about to object, “when you have found the last piece of missing armor, you will return to your former physical self."
Tilger waited for Ravenbeak to go on, but the wizard remained quiet.
"Why?" Tilger asked. "Why me?"
"Ah, that's the question," said Ravenbeak. "At one time you were a great hero. Sharp, quick reflexes, dangerous with a sword, but sensitive to the poor and neglected. You understood what it meant to the weak to have someone strong stand up for them, to be their voice, to wield the sword they were too feeble to carry. To face danger, right a wrong, save a life, end oppression, or just give a feeling of reassurance by stopping by their village once in a while. But little by little, you lost sight of what it means to be a real hero. Yes, I've been watching you for a long time."
"Watching me?" asked Tilger. "Not surprising. You lot always have your nose in other people's business."
"Other people's business?" flustered Ravenbeak. Agitated, he stood up and began pacing. "Did you hear that?" he asked the monster, who only whined in response, its eyes pleading for release. "Other people's business, he says."
His cheeks a bright red, Ravenbeak turned sharply to Tilger. "As vessals of the most powerful force, it is our responsibility to see that things maintain a balance. If evil becomes too strong, we counter it with more heroes."
"And if there are too many heroes?" Tilger asked. "What do you do then, create more evil?"
"Well," Ravenbeak said uncomfortably, "that's not important. What is important is that you are one of the heroes that I keep track of. I had hoped you were just going through a slump, but it's more serious than that. You've lost your way, your hero's spirit. I realized that you needed help, and that's why I have come."
Tilger looked at his gangly, skinny reflection in the mirror. "This is what you call helping?"
"You have a quest, and by that quest you will learn what it is to be a hero. You will return to the hero you once were," said Ravenbeak. "Your quest will be to recover your lost armor."
"Well, that's not too bad," Tilger said, cheering up.
"One piece at a time," added Ravenbeak.
"What do you mean, one piece at a time? You mean it's not all in one place?" Tilger asked.
"Well, if it were all in one place it wouldn't be much of a quest, would it? Once you have found the final piece, your body will return to its former, uh, form."
Tilger gaped at the impossibility of what he was hearing. "Have you any idea the number of pieces that go into a suit of armor?"
"A lot, I would imagine," said Ravenbeak.
"Isn't there another way we could do this?"
"In a word, no." Ravenbeak straightened out his robes. "Any more questions?"
Tilger's head was jammed with so many questions, he was at a loss to pick one.
"Then I will be going," said Ravenbeak. Lifting his arms dramatically into the air, he waved his hands as he cast his spell. "Good luck, young hero."
POP! Again, Ravenbeak was gone.
"But, where do I start?" implored Tilger. "How do I know where to go?" His words echoed off the empty forest. "A sign? A hint, anything?"
On the heels of his plea came a loud snap behind him. The monster was freed once more and, heading for Tilger, snapped its jaws in wrath.
Tilger could run and die, fight and die, or just die. He chose to die fighting. He picked up a board from the wrecked farmhouse. The monster swatted the plank out of his hand as fast as he'd picked it up. It wasn't in Tilger's nature to run from something, so his options were quickly whittled down to just dying.
The monster swung its powerful, spiked arms at Tilger. He raised his once noble chin and prepared to meet his end. This was about to be the shortest quest he'd ever been on.
POP! The barbed limbs halted inches from impaling Tilger as Ravenbeak appeared once again.
"Where is my mind these days?" Ravenbeak chuckled embarrassedly. "Sorry, really," he said to the monster. It rumbled in annoyed acceptance.
Holding a shabby leather bag and a ring, Ravenbeak turned back to Tilger. "I meant to give these to you before. They will be of some help to you in your travels. This," he said as he handed the bag to Tilger, “is a bag of holding. Its magic allows it to hold much more than its physical size."
Tilger looked over the bag. Not much bigger than a wine bag, it appeared to be a common bag with rough stitching and a leather draw string. Looking inside he saw it was empty. He reached inside and felt something come into his hand. He closed his fingers around it and drew it out. To his amazement, he found himself holding a full size, wooden chair. The chair was larger than the opening of the bag, but he had taken it from the bag all the same. He looked at Ravenbeak in bewilderment.
"It's had some previous owners," said Ravenbeak. "It takes a little while to learn how to find what you're looking for. This will also be very helpful," he said, holding up a plain steel ring. "It's also had a few owners, but it works as well as you could want."
Tilger examined it, but there was nothing about its shape or design that revealed the ring's purpose.
"Go ahead," said Ravenbeak. "Put it on. It won't hurt."
As he slid the ring on, Tilger got the sensation that it was fitting itself to the size of his finger. The ring spoke.
"You should put a coat on," it said. "You could catch a cold."
Tilger looked quizzically at Ravenbeak, who nodded and smiled. "Remarkable, isn't it?"
"What is it?" asked Tilger.
"Is that your horse?" the ring asked. "It's a bit big for you. You might fall off and break something."
"Can't you tell?" said Ravenbeak.
"Look at all these broken boards," came the tinny voice of the ring. "Be careful you don't get a... MONSTER!"
Tilger and Ravenbeak jumped in surprise as the ring blared in amazing volume.
"Run for your lives," it screamed. "Take to the hills. Flee. Hide!"
Ravenbeak stuck his fingers in his ears as he grinned like an idiot and shouted over the clamoring ring. "It's a ring of warning. Wonderful, don't you think?"
Tilger yanked the ring off and then it went quiet. "My idea of wonderful is you taking this spell off," he said, tossing the ring in the dirt.
"Yes, well, that would defeat the purpose," said Ravenbeak, looking disappointedly at the ring. "Don't want the ring, eh? Well, it's up to you. I must go now. Good luck, Tilger, good luck."
"Just a moment," said Tilger. "I don't even know where to start. Where do I begin?"
Ravenbeak pointed to the distant horizon. "To find your first piece of armor go, uh, that way."
"East?"
Ravenbeak continued pointing. "Is that east?"
"Yes."
"Yes," Ravenbeak said. "Go east."
"Just east, nothing else?"
Ravenbeak considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Going east is enough. You're going to have to use your wits now. Think for yourself, and all that."
"But after I find the first piece of armor, how will I know where to go for the next piece?"
Ravenbeak sighed, looking at Tilger with disapproval. "Didn't I just finish saying you were going to have to start thinking
for yourself?"
Tilger stood there looking baffled.
"The ring, of course."
"But what about...?"
"No more questions," said Ravenbeak. "You must do this on your own."
"But..."
Ravenbeak held up his finger. "On your own."
POP! Ravenbeak was gone.
Tilger looked miserably at the spot Ravenbeak had just occupied. "But the monster...”
The looming shadow behind Tilger confirmed that the monster was again free from Ravenbeak's freeze spell. Tilger turned around to face it. The beast gave him a disheartened look, glanced around nervously for the wizard, then back to Tilger. It looked like it was going to attack, but paused as if expecting the wizard to reappear. Confused and discouraged, it just stood looking at Tilger for direction.
Tilger shrugged. "I have no idea. He might remember something else and come back, or he might not. He's irritating that way."
The monster nodded and took a hesitant step backward. Tilger smiled kindly at the monster to put it at ease.
"It's all right," he said. "I'd do the same thing if I were you. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."
The monster burbled in embarrassed gratitude and hurried into the forest.
Tilger picked up the ring and put it in his pocket. Sighing heavily, he looked to the distant horizon.
"East."
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER 5
The clattering of tiny claws echoed off the wet, moldy walls of the low passageway. A greasy rat ran along the corridor to where it opened into a large chamber, its walls glowing with a sickly yellow light.
Wheezing from exertion, the rat stopped in front of a figure seated upon a crumbling stone throne. To say the figure was horrible to look at would be saying being mauled to death by poodles is mildly embarrassing. Both are greatly understated.
The figure's corpse-like frame was partly concealed in corroded armor. A rotted cloak hung off his shoulders and pooled around his feet like blackened mold. Greyish-green mottled skin stretched tightly across his face, except for the places where the bone was exposed. He was bald, with the exception of a long ponytail of thick, grey hair. A steel band was riveted over his empty sockets, and though he looked blindfolded, there was little he didn't see. He had gone to a lot of trouble to look as horrifying as possible, and it had paid off in spades.