Overhead burned the sun, wreathed in cool blue and surrounded by wandering drifts of fluffy white. By all accounts it was a beautiful day, soiled in Luin's mind by the recently discovered threat that lurked somewhere in the desert beneath. Her gaze wandered the flat, golden sea that stretched onwards towards the horizon, nary even a bump or a ridge for miles around. In the distance to her left was the Gorge, and to her right rose the brown and barren peaks of the central mountains. Most prominent among them was Haranalur, reaching for the heavens and scraping against passing clouds. At its apex was not brown stone but gray, and at either of its sides stretched shoulders of the mountain and vast fingers, snaking through the valleys provided by the lesser formations surrounding it. In spite of its distance, the sight of it inspired a great awe in those who looked on it, even from the village which yet sat further away than Luin. She drew her sight from Haranalur, instead focusing straight ahead, where a small point began to arise from the meridian far away. The rhythmic thumping of Baron's steady pace was challenged only by the footsteps of another mount directly on their right-hand side. Next to Baron and matching the avian monster's speed was a Barroth, obviously larger than the Kulu-Ya-Ku (though the difference wasn't as large as one might've assumed it to be, on account of the latter's exceptional size, when compared to others of his species) and much heavier. Each step it took disturbed the earth, shook the pebbles sticking out from the largely smooth surface beneath and leaving new imprints wherever it went. The monster was akin in shape to the Anjanath she had seen those many months ago, though much stouter and with a far thicker carapace. Cinnamony and black natural armor covered its form, save only the monster's underside, a pale hide running from beneath its jaw to its tail. Ridges ran along its back and on its head was formed a distinctive, massive "crown" of armor, for which the Barroth species was most widely known. The monster was, for all intents and purposes, built like a living tank, and as such was very much capable of carrying great amounts of weight.
This evolutionary feature had been taken advantage of, for on the beast's back hung various wooden boxes filled with all manner of cargo, kept suspended above the ground only by thickly woven nets. The heavier boxes bounced less with each motion than the lighter ones, which rumbled and shook about as the brute wyvern traveled. Also on its back was a saddle and on that was a man by the name of Davik. He wore on his form a well-padded hide uniform, almost identical to the one that Luin herself now wore, the dark coloration of its primary material clashing with the shining steel shoulderpads from which the sun's light bounced back into the sky. Also were the gauntlets of similar appearance on both his forearms and shins, flowing well with the steel pads protecting his elbows and knees as well. From his belt hung two swords in their sheaths and on his hands were black leather gloves, and he wore thick hide boots. An oddity among the standard colors of his uniform were the brown and black plumage running along the armor's shoulders, which his female companion lacked. On Davik's head was a helm with the visor slid down over his face, guarding against the grains of sand blown in the wind. Through the dark glass were visible no eyes as he looked over to Luin, but she could feel the smile beneath.
"We're getting closer!" He shouted over the whipping winds, an armored arm rising and a sole finger pointing forwards at the distant objective resting where the gold and blue met. They'd drawn nearer and Luin could see now where exactly they were headed towards. Undoubtedly a farm, though she already knew that the moment she set out. A windmill of ebon wood towered above all else, and the land here was outrageously green compared to its surroundings, yet no less flat. The sand turned to dry soil under their mounts' feet, and soon to grass. As they continued to advance towards it, a two-story wooden house came into focus, as did a pen with various farmland silhouettes sniffing and chewing at the ground within. A tiny speck moved from the house and to the pen, before returning to their abode.
It was another two or three minutes before the duo arrived. Baron slowed to a halt as did the Barroth next to him, and Luin dismounted in silence. The man who had come with her approached the speck, now fully realized to them as a farmer in plain clothes, and spoke with him as she glanced around at her surroundings. The creaking of the windmill was slight and only barely managing to scrape its way above the livestock's braying. Two-legged, pale creatures bearing no fur, scales, or feathers (save a thick brush of black quills upon their pink backs) grazed in the confines of the pen's wooden fence, their hind legs stout while their forelimbs were bent and clawed, though from their reach Luin suspected that they could drop to all fours if need be. Her theory was confirmed when one lowered itself closer to the ground, falling into a quadrupedal stance as it plodded to an edge of the pen and squeezed its vaguely bat-like head through the two logs, a bluish tongue unfurling and plucking particularly long blades of grass from the already well-foraged patch outside. Luin approached and kneeled to the green earth, warily stretching her arm towards the creature. It seemed not to care as she ran her fingers tenderly along its jaw and up behind its ears, scratching lightly.
"And who's she?" Asked the farmer, stirring Luin from the confines of her own mind. She lifted her head from the faintly ugly animal and to the two men just as her superior waved her over with a calling of her name. She was quick to oblige, rising to her full height and hurrying towards where they stood.
"This is Aspirant Luin Das'a." He introduced her to the farmer. "She's helping me out on this. Tell her what you told me, please." Davik looked back to the farmer, his faceplate having been lifted at some point in the past minute to reveal the young face beneath. The farmer was quiet as he gathered his thoughts, wrinkles folding amidst his tanned face.
"Something attacked my livestock while I was in town, about…three, four days back. Lots of somethings, judging by the tracks. They took the youngest one and left." He explained concisely, and Luin glanced back at the animals in the pen. Indeed, she could now see the days-old gashes lining their forms, most scabbed over by now by some remaining fresh.
"Can you tell me about the tracks?" Asked she.
"I found them over there, headed west," The aged man pointed to the side of the house, where in the far-off west Luin could see brown spires that rose into the blue sky like fangs protruding from an amber-colored maw. "Three-pointed, and maybe seven or eight inches wide. Wish I could tell you more, but I'm no tracker." He sighed and shook his head.
"What do you think, Aspirant?" Davik crossed his arms and looked her way, at the woman who pondered her options with the evidence she'd been presented. Pack hunters hailing from the Petrified Forest, or at least the direction of. The answer seemed clear to her.
"Sounds like…Vangar?" She came to a conclusion, though her tone seemed to indicate it was less of a conclusion, more of a question, as though she thought Davik had already reached an answer of his own, and was merely hoping hers would match up with his. Indeed it seemed to, as the man gave a slight laugh and nodded.
"I think so too. We'll have this problem dealt with right away, Mr. Ahrembal. Don't worry, you won't have to worry about them again."
Few other words had been exchanged by the time the duo took seat upon their mounts once more, but only the first minute of the ensuing ride westward was made in silence. As the lone farmer returned to his business upon the homestead, the two travelers set into the air a storm of dust. Luin again looked over to Davik, though this time spoke; she was not eager to cross the length of this distance in silence like they had on their way to the farm.
"Vangar, this far from the Spires?" She asked. "That's not normal, is it?"
"No, Aspirant, it is not." Davik answered, and that was all.
"You think it has anything to do with the Anjanath?"
"Maybe," He shrugged. "Keep your eyes and ears open, and we might find out."
Luin nodded and they continued on in silence for another few moments, before once more she spoke: "Things are changing, and I don't suspect the Anjanath is wholly the cause of it. There were those reports from the South, too, of monsters flying overhead, and then those sandstorms we've seen on the horizon…"
"Don't presume to know things you've no real proof of, Aspirant Das'a. Just because you suspect a thing to be true, doesn't mean you must begin worrying about it."
"But what do you think?"
Davik's tone softened.
"I think you may be right."
The landscape on either side of them began to change. They descended a slope now, walls of sandstone rising in the far distance the further into this depression they ventured. All around them, like the trees that populated a forest Luin had never seen, pillars of rock rose from the sand. They stood tall and featureless, save for faint hints of erosion. The empty basin was older than either of their ancestors, and what seafaring life may once have lurked in the deeps had been erased from the halls of history, the only reminder of their once-prominent existence in the form of ill-defined fossils embedded in stone. When she was young, Luin had been given one such fossil from a Ranger who worked for her father after he returned from an expedition. She recalled clearly, even now, the spiraling ridges that seemed to circle into themselves for infinity.
As their mounts galloped through the forest of crags her eyes wandered to a set of bones nestled between the cracks of a lone pillar to the right. They were piled together in a mass of white, picked clean of any flesh. Wayward ribs and arm-bones jutted out from the stack, and in its midst she saw the skull of some long-dead herbivore, devoid of any life and now nothing more than minerals returning to the earth from which it sprouted. Her gaze lingered for the seven or so seconds that they passed, until at least it was obscured from sight by another tower of stone and lost forever to the eyes of man.
"Eyes up," Commanded Davik, and she turned to face him. He held a finger to the sky above to accentuate his point, and Luin looked to the peaks of the pillars under which they passed "Vangar make their nests as high as possible on these things, so they can swoop down on anything that passes through their territory. Don't let them get the jump on you."
"So, what exactly is it we're looking for?"
"Dead ones."
Luin's vision flicked away from the pale blue sky and back to Davik, a smirk on his lips "Huh?"
"When a clash of Vangar get stressed, they start to exhibit certain behaviors. Their feathers'll change color and swell up so they're more prominent, they'll start traveling outside their normal hunting grounds, and they'll attack others in the clash much more often. We suspect one of these three things have happened, right?" He paused and Luin only noticed after the third or fourth second that he was waiting for a response. She nodded with an "mhm", and Davik continued. "So, if we can find a corpse of one, check the color of its feathers, we'll know for sure that something's wrong. That something is stressing them to the point of venturing into human territory."
It was sound logic, Luin thought, and she found herself on much higher alert now that she knew specifically their intent was. The two Rangers upon their beasts progressed evermore into the basin, but it wasn't long at all before the more experienced of the duo brought them both to a stop. The woman quickly saw why: On the ground, some five meters away from Baron, was a Vangar. Half of one, at least, and badly mutilated to the point that she didn't at first recognize it as their target. She recalled standard protocol and remained on the back of her mount as Davik climbed off of his, descending the rope ladder down the Barroth's side and jumping those final few feet to the ground. Before the sand kicked up had even settled he was already knelt at the carcasses side, nimble in the wind and quick. He reached out and lifted the corpse, flipping it onto its side and seeing deep crimson feathers rather than the lush green for which they were known. Grimness came upon his face and he drew away, yet still fixated on the remnants of the slaughtered creature. From her vantage point, Luin, too, could see what little was left of the Vangar. It had been rent in two, the anima's back half simply missing. Its entrails messily decorated the ground around it, pulled out as though the vultures had found the corpse before the duo did. The nictitating membrane of the creature yet remained, still slid over and protecting lifeless eyes. Luin felt a gross warmth rising in the back of her throat and glanced away from the scene, scanning the skies and the crags around them to ensure that they were truly alone here.
She found no other Vangar, and yet her sight landed on something of equal, if not greater curiosity. A crevice between two towers, like a dark gash imprinted in the ground. It was filled with darkness and of an unknown depth, but something beyond pulled Luin's mind towards it, as though a voice from the abyss was calling out to her, beckoning to come near. She blinked and looked away.
Davik had just begun to stand from his examination when a high shriek rang across the basin. It was sharp and loud, bringing daggers that stabbed into the ears of the duo. From above the man dropped a very much alive Vangar, landing on his shoulders and forcing him to the ground. The creature howled and Luin got a good look at it in the final moment before the explosion of chaos that ensued: it was a comparatively small beast, a mere four or five feet long not including the tail, but lacked the sort of "fragile" build that other monsters like it might've held. Covering its form were thick, coarse, and brown-ish scales (not unlike those of an alligator's in terms of texture) with hints of red and orange. It stood on all four limbs, wings folded so that its measly "fingers" could mimic forelegs whenever it was grounded. These feeble appendages were more than compensated by the curved talons on its hindlegs that now pressed against Davik's back. Its tail was long and spindly, ending in a four-directional "rudder". Slitted amber eyes among its sleek maw frantically flicked about, jaws agape in hungry rage. Luin reached for her bow but by the time it was in her hands, Davik had already driven a swift elbow into the side of the Vangar's head and wrestled it off of him. The brawl on the ground hadn't yet concluded but still another Vangar arrived, slamming into Luin from her right and tackling her off of Baron. She hit the hard ground with a grunt barely audible over the thud of impact, heard the flapping of the animal's wings as it landed beside her and the orchestra of high--pitched howls as the clash arrived in full force.
Like a blizzard of fury reinforced by fangs and claws they came, descending on the duo and their mounts. Baron thrashed about violently to rid himself of those which threatened to rend his flesh until none of it remained, and Davik's was simply covered in a thin layer of the predators. Luin flipped from her side onto her back and the Vangar which first attacked her came in a rush, attempting to snap its jaws close around her neck. She shoved her armored forearm into its mouth, preventing it from closing, while with her other arm she reached for the knife on her belt. Her panicked fingers fumbled around the sheathe's latch and when she'd finally drawn the dagger the Vangar had already fallen back. She pushed herself onto her feet and held the knife ready before her, staring down the predator but failing to account for the presence of others--a mistake that cost her when she felt razor-sharp teeth sink into her calf. An unseen Vangar forced her backwards and she fell to the ground. The knife tumbled from her grasp and she was left with no option save to blindly kick at the out-of-view creature until her boots made contact with its head, eliciting a sharp screech from the retreating monster. By now though, the first of the two had leapt for her and came down upon the rookie in a glide. Her mind had flooded with panic as she saw the approaching death-bringer but within her roared a primal instinct that took control, guiding her as she dove forwards and fell just before the knife. The wind swept along the Vangar's path blew against the side of the head, a fierce whistle passing her ear. From the ground she lunged for the weapon and stood once more, wheeling around to face the Vangar in the midst of its course-correction, readying to turn on a dime as the species seemed to do well and go in for its second attempt. Still spinning were the blazing fire-wheels of the reflexes brewing in her blood. This time around the enemy managed to make contact with Luin--though perhaps not in the way it intended. Her arm shot for its throat, fingers wrapping tight around the Vangar's broad neck. The animal struggled, lashing out in an uncoordinated and panicked storm of violence. Clumsy claws clashed against the steel of her gauntlets while its frenetic tail whipped against her side, yet to no avail. Still, the furious writhing of the creature threatened to break Luin's grasp on it and give it freedom once more to tear her throat out.
So it was that she moved rapid and hard. She lifted her arm above her head and slammed it against the ground. A forcible exhale exited the monster's maw, as did all the air stored in its lungs all at once. The Vangar was motionless; stunned but not dead. Not yet. Luin bent her elbow and swiftly fed the monster's flesh to the knife in her other arm. This she sank and drove from the animal's hide rapidly, again and again, stabbing into it five times after which she had at least a passing certainty that it was either dead or dying. In spite of this she fully intended to continue, panic driving her senses now more than any sort of instinct, had she not been interrupted. Another Vangar attacked from above, its talons plunging past the thick hide armor and into her own skin. From between her shoulder blades she felt a warm liquid crawl. Luin swung the dagger wildly overhead, praying to find luck as she had with the Vangar she kicked, but the Gilded One's blessing did not come and the claws only sunk deeper.
There came a thunderous crack to fill the air, and the grip on her back wes wrenched loose.
Dinging off her helmet was a storm of pebbles, bouncing from it into her vision and raining upon the ground. She rose from the bird wyvern's corpse and gaped at the Vangar that had crashed behind her. It lay on its back, talons stained red and legs upraised, twitching, as though waving in greeting to the detached feathers now floating slowly back to their original owner. At its side was a fractured boulder, similar in texture and color to the spires and more than likely taken from them. Luin didn't need to see Baron to know it was at his hand…his claw that she was saved.
In her later years, Luin would learn the value of aiding those in need of it. But in the years between then and now, she had learned another, far more difficult lesson: no good deed goes unpunished. And indeed, punishment came to Baron. Into the tamed beast crashed a different animal entirely, accompanied by a feral screech. In spite of his extraordinary size, Baron was shoved to the ground almost instantly and trampled over by the smaller, yet bulkier creature as it charged Luin. She froze up, seeing naught to do in the situation but stare at the far heavier creature and accept whatever fate came to her. SHe knew, by descriptions that had been read in books and scrolls of papyrus, that this was a Vangan: matriarchal monsters far larger than their subordinates in the clash. It was akin in texture and appearance to the Vangar, though considerably larger at a very worrying ten feet of length, wingless (such appendages had been replaced with powerful arms ending in very scary-looking claws), and much, much heavier. Luin would've laughed had she not been stricken with mortal terror of the approaching tank: what was she intended to do, stab it with that measly little knife?
The woman found out the hard way that she was not the creature's intended target. Its arm, packed on with layer after layer of muscle, smashed into her shoulder and threw her violently to the side. When she hit the ground she flung both forearms over her face to protect her from the surely subsequent mauling, but when none came, Luin lowered them and found the almost bear-like beast lunging for Davik. The soldier was its goal; she had been nothing more than an obstacle, and was discarded as such. Luin rose to her feet, arm throbbing and back burning. On the ground, some yards away, she spied her bow. The quiver remained hanging from Baron's (who had gone back to fighting off a horde of Vangar) saddle, but there was, at least, a lone arrow abandoned between two towers not far from the weapon, knocked from her hands when the bow was.
She dashed for it, the sounds of Davik's battle against the monster reaching her ears from behind. It didn't sound like he was winning. In another few seconds she had collected the bow and its single arrow, stooping down to pick them up and not once breaking her stride save to spin back around and make for her superior. She slowed once nearly half the distance had been crossed, aiming down the arrow as she placed it firmly against the bowstring and finding a spot on the side of the larger Vangan's soft neck, but knew she lacked the ability to place the shot.
Luin kept on. As she moved she saw Davik's Barroth swarmed with Vangar, the monster nearly lost because the writhing horde landed upon him, biting relentlessly, searching for any sign of weakness. Baron was no less preoccupied, fighting off at least five targeting him and particular as well as countless others that simply made wayward swipes at him. It was her, and her alone, who could come to the aid of Davik. Luin skipped five more paces and at last came to see the Vangan's tender hide clearly. As with all things in life, though, this opportunity was not free of complications: Davik's form yanked and jerked about, the man growing visibly fatigued in his endeavors to fight off the monster while avoiding an early grave at its hands. This placed him, far too commonly, in between Luin and her target. The woman drew the arrow back and lifted her elbow. Her breath trembled. Fear pervaded her mind, reminded her of the consequences of failure. Just one arrow. She got the timing wrong, or even just missed by a mere few inches…It was over. At best the arrow would plunge into some unimportant spot of the Vangan, but at worst, into Davik himself. She faltered and her breathing grew unsteady.
Against the fear, another voice spoke out. It was small but it cut through the haze of hesitation, putting a swift end to the fear. Some fleeting thought eased her form; it was gone before Luin could even place her finger on what exactly it was. Her thoughts slowed to a crawl and the grasp on the arrow ended. It sang through the air and sank into the Vangan's throat. The creature gave a hoarse and pained cry, falling back from the rumble against Davik. Blood trickled from the wound. Four powerful claws pawed at the embedded projectile, and Davik looked to Luin with a smile either impressed or thankful, or perhaps both. "Got 'em!" Came her triumphant howl, with arms shooting overhead and fists clenched.
If there was any sense of celebration, there in the midst of battle, it certainly didn't last long. Luin's high fell into a deep horror as she witnessed the Vangan return into view and continue its assault against Davik, smashing its shoulder into him in a brutal tackle that threw the soldier backwards. His body fell limp when it slammed against a pillar with a crack, and Luin's fear sank deeper still when the matriarchal monster turned next to her.
She dropped the bow and ran like hell. Luin didn't have anything even remotely resembling a destination in mind as she cut through the clouds of Vangar. She wanted nothing save to escape from the beast behind her, grunting and roaring as its heavy footfalls neared with every second that passed. She saw Baron, some distance away, and at last an end goal for this chase in which she found herself popped into mind. Luin had just begun to adjust her course when the Vangan leapt into her.
A mere human frame stood no chance against that sort of power and weight, and when Luin fell to the ground, she did so in a most unfortunate place. That pitch-colored crevice which, beckoned for her just minutes before, rested just besides her path to Baron, and the Vangan's tackle, done just as Luin passed by, sent the woman tumbling into the deep, abyssal darkness.