Eye of the Wind – Ch. 2 – 1: Hunting the Phial

  • Dawn was just beginning to break when we mounted our horses and started down the path.  I had intended to go with Ahkari along the road to Windhelm, but when we passed their campsite it was gone.  The khajiits never ceased to amaze me with how seamlessly they could disappear from a place.  There was no trace left of them at all.  No tracks, no charred wood from a fire, not even an ill-disposed bone.  Nothing.

    So, we would cross the country alone.

    A warm, rosy sunrise greeted us as the fort we cleared the other day rose before us formidably.  There was nothing to fear, now, however.  Only barricades slowed our progress as we picked our way through the thickets of posts and branches.  By the time we entered the archway, my arms were scratched in a fine filigree of oozing wounds.  I washed them with water from my skin.

    "Ugh, smells worse than the mines after a cave-in," Derkeethus grumbled, coughing fitfully.  I had to agree, already the bodies smelled ripe and warm.  I suppose sitting in the sun for two days didn't help.  Fumbling, I pulled my hood from my pack and wrapped the excess cloth around my nose.  Derk settled for sticking his nose into the front of his tunic.

    Unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done for Nael or Burrs.  They snorted and danced about, swerving as we passed by the bodies.  When we came out the other side, a cool breeze greeted us and we all relaxed.  Shor's Stone, we knew, was only a couple of hours ahead.

    But we were not prepared for what awaited us.  The sun was just clearing the eastern mountains when I held up an arm to stop just outside of the village.

    "Listen," I whispered.  We were silent for a moment, even the horses, even Jorin.  Our ears strained.

    "I don't hear anything," replied Derkeethus.

    "That's what worries me."  All morning the birds and insects went about their songs of work and play.  Now there was nothing.  No sound, not even the beating of a distant hammer from the village.

    The world hung on the precipice of some emerging presence, which quickly announced itself in the form of a deep-throated roar.

    "Dragon!" we heard a guard call.  Quickly Derk and I leapt off the horses and ran towards the village where a dragon was circling down, preparing for a dive.  The guards were already preparing for action, their bows drawn and arrows nocked.  

    The dragon also seemed to hear this call and considered it a direct challenge.

    Filnjar had abandoned his forge and held a mace at the ready.  "I'd like ta see that scaly son of a skeeva git through Betsy!"

    It swung around and dove straight for the guards, blasting them with a breath of ice that chilled them to the bone.

    But the guards were fresh and stood their ground, peppering the beast with arrows. I, too, readied my bow and shot as it blew past me, shuddering my bones with the force of its speed.

    My arrow missed its mark and the dragon flew up and swung around for a second attempt.

    Meanwhile the rest of us tracked his movements and attempted to peg him out of the sky, but he was too agile of a flier.

    Filnjar ran over to the other side of his forge and shook his weapon at the beast, shouting, "Come on!  Come 'n fight me!  I can take ya!"  I inwardly cringed, knowing this was exactly the wrong thing to do.

    With a growl, we could hear the dragon utter a sound that was so alike the word "Oh?" that it might well have been speaking.  Gracefully it hovered just out of the blacksmith's reach, and inhaled deeply.

    "Get out of the way!  Filnjar, get out of the way!" Derkeethus screamed, running over to shove the blacksmith away from the incoming breath of ice.

    But he didn't move fast enough.

    The blast rippled through the air, causing a strange distortion that reminded me of mirages.  Filjnar took the full brunt of the initial blast, and he fell to the ground, gripping his rib cage in pain.  He crawled sluggishly out of the way, until Derk arrived and pulled him out of range.

    My friend tried to get him inside the house, but he just wouldn't have it, shoving Derk away and hefting his mace determinedly.

    The guards and I shot at the creature, shouting at it, taunting it, trying to get it away from the old man.  Eventually, it heard us and grumbled so deeply I heard the eaves of the houses tremble and the thatch roof hiss.

    Finally, it landed, and Filnjar seized his chance, advancing with the guards and clouting the dragon on the snout with his mace.  The guards hammered at it with axes and war hammers, pounding deep divots in its scaly hide.

    It screamed in pain, and were it not so ruthlessly attacking us, I would have felt bad for the creature.  Perhaps I did feel pity anyway, since it seemed unable to avoid being aggressive.  We sensed it was weakening when it began to retreat from the road and over to the shade of the trees.  

    Doubling our efforts, we went after it, alternately filling its hide with arrows and slashing and bludgeoning its weak spots.

    Just when it seemed ready to give up, with one last effort it seized Filnjar about the waist and tossed him into the air.  I had seen this happen with wading birds in the Eastmarch pools, and I ran forward as if to catch him, but it was too late.

    I watched the old Nord's body tumble through the air, slowly, like a leaf falling from a tree.

    With a swift lunge, the dragon shot its head towards the falling body, and swallowed it.  Filnjar was gone.  Looking down at us, the dragon almost seemed to smile.  And that was what undid me.

    I moved in a flurry of furious motion.  A windstorm of anger and cold, silvered steel.  I carved off the lower plates of its belly and tore its throat to shreds, trying to find Filnjar and extract him before the dragon's rabid digestion melted him into slurry.  

    But he really was gone, and the dragon was dead, and its body started to burn.

Comments

4 Comments
  • Piper Jo
    Piper Jo   ·  December 10, 2012
    Great battle scene! I hate writing battle scenes, and will avoid them unless they are really exceptional.  You just bring them alive!
  • Piper Jo
    Piper Jo   ·  December 10, 2012
    Ha! A little take on game mechanics there, with the Khajit leaving no trace!
  • Eviltrain
    Eviltrain   ·  September 13, 2012
    An interesting take on fighting these giant beasts. I always imagine writing a battle scene out with these things would stretch my ability to expand the phrase, "sheer terror" into a thousand words. I would say, good job.
  • Kynareth
    Kynareth   ·  September 4, 2012
    You certainly capture that Nordic battle spirit with your characterization of Filnjar and though it is sad that he died, it is the way a Nord may hope to go--in valiant battle.
    Her reverence for the natural world seems to extend to all people, too, ...  more