The Beastheart & The Faeries¶
Part One: The Beastheart¶
Lives lay in moments wasted. But they both knew the value of reading the situation. The lay of the land. Plunging in on perilous impulse, however noble, could mean their own lives added to the tally. They wouldn't have used words like 'tactics' or 'strategy;' to the two of them, it was simply prudent to watch and think and plan before acting.
They watched as the hobgoblins made sport of their prey. They had tested themselves against the devil-goblin hybrids before and always their mettle proved superior. But this was a delicate scenario.
There was a whole fist here. This created something of a challenge, but without needing to communicate, they both sensed the hobgoblins' captives had a power of their own. They had, presumably, been stripped of their weapons or implements. But it was hard to tell exactly. It was hard to see the captives with any detail.
For the hobgoblins' captives, trapped in a small metal cage hanging from a tree branch, were faeries. They must have been transferred there from a trap. They could see the netting used in setting the trap. This was interesting. Just the idea of hobgoblins capturing faeries and apparently interrogating them was challenging. The faeries they had met were useless.
These faeries weren't like that. This much was obvious. And they were the captives of the hobgoblins, which said everything about their allegiances. There were two of them, a brightly colored one with sunbright moth wings, and a dark one with black butterfly wings.
She noticed the bright one talk, and then the hobgoblins argue. She elbowed her companion, who had been carefully noting and cataloging each hobgoblin, ranking them based on threat and opportunity.
They both watched the two hobgoblins bickering. These two seemed to be the senior-most. This was interesting. Had the bright faerie caused this? If so, then perhaps they were no mere travelers, civilians. They might be counted on to meaningfully contribute to their own liberation, given the chance.
Images and emotions blurred together in a language more efficient than speech. A debate. Two approaches. Kill them all, or snatch the captives and run. Merits to either, dangers to both.
But there was something they knew, and their minds were so similar they both conjured the knowledge at the same time. No need to communicate when you think the same thoughts in the same moment.
The hobgoblins were intelligent, scheming. Not always fanatics. Properly motivated, they could be relied upon to retreat. But this would not be possible if the battle created too much confusion.
They needed two things, in other words. Body count sufficient to motivate the retreat, and a command structure capable of calling for it. This was a delicate thread to weave. But their needle was exceedingly fine.
She pointed her longspear, singling out one hobgoblin, a female. She was obviously the witch of the fist, festooned with skulls and talismans and covered in black tattoos.
They agreed on a plan. The beast loped off into the forest while she waited, measuring heartbeats, to give him time to get in position.
The hobgoblins were still arguing. Good. If they were being manipulated by the speech of the bright faerie, then the two faeries might be able to affect their own escape. But no reason to take chances.
She gripped her longspear, stood, and walked into the clearing.
"We should have avoided the clearing," the dark one said.
"You're right!" the bright one agreed with a resigned sigh. "This is the only reason clearings exist, as far as I can tell," she gestured to the whole situation they were in.
The dark one agreed. "The trees get bored and make clearings for no other reason than to be audiences for the inevitable dramas that ensue."
"Well," the bright faerie said, watching the escalating tension among the hobgoblins intently. She spoke with an eternally carefree air, but her eyes were locked on the developing argument. "I for one intend to give them quite a show indeed."
"Once again," the dark one said, "I find your intentions unimpeachable."
The hobgoblin captain stabbed a finger at his lieutenant and the lieutenant took a step back and put a hand on his falchion.
"Escape from these bars seems more and more likely by the moment," the bright one observed.
The dark one nodded. "And escape from the clearing?"
"Oh," the bright one said with a lofty air, "I very much doubt we'll get out alive; there are thirty of them."
The dark one nodded. "But our lives will be bought at a very high price and the story they will tell afterwards…" he sighed.
"It's almost a shame," the bright one turned to the dark one with a look of love. "To imagine we might live."
The dark one smiled and winked at her.
Suddenly, the argument stopped. And the entire fist turned away from them.
"Brother, look," the bright one said.
"Oh ho ho," he replied, watching a young lady, human of all things, walk alone and unafraid into the clearing. "A new actor lights upon the stage," he said.
"A hero! If I'm any judge."
"Darling, no judge ever had more authority. I hope you're taking note of her features and demeanour. I cannot wait to hear what feats of legend you grant her in your next epic."
"I am indeed. Brother, do you note her dexter arm?"
A hobgoblin obscured his view. "Is that…dexter to her or dexter to us?"
"Oh forgive me," the bright elf watched the human while she twisted her faerie body a half turn and tilted her head. "Dexter to her," she concluded.
He craned his head. "Ohhhh," a sigh escaped his lips. "This is a hero of legend. She comes, bearing not just a spear, but a story. Sister!" he said as he stared at her right arm, "do you see how intricate the making? That is no mere arm of bone, that is a device. The craftsmanship!"
"Oh she must be victorious here. We must see to it. Look at her raiment. Cloth armor, in purple. Certainly a noble. And that spear. The longspear of a templar from the court of Lord Tear unless I miss my guess."
"You do not. I say it is a gift."
"Of a surety. Our hero would not battle Lord Tear, she would be his willing ally. Even if only temporarily."
"Indeed, it must be an award for some impossible deed."
The bright faerie nodded. "I will make sure of it."
Her brother gasped. "She braids her hair and the ribbons of her raiment! She has taste, dear sister!"
"Ah vanity! All this, with style and grace. If this is our savior, I could not have conjured a better. I may have to…" she turned to her brother. "I may be forced to omit details lest the critics accuse me of overwriting!"
"Well they do that anyway," her brother said.
"Yes but in this case they may be correct."
"Quiet, sister, she speaks."
The hobgoblins in the clearing stared at her, incredulous. But, she noticed, the nearest ones took a few steps back and crowded together. Good, she thought. She had learned from her master the value of theatrics.
She also noticed, for whatever reason—perhaps the discord the bright faerie sowed—the gathered hobgoblin fist were waiting for her to speak. This banished any doubt she might have had.
"Hear now the speech of my lord Uldric, Count of Vašra!" she announced.
The gathered hobgoblins looked at each other with some confusion. Was this someone they should have heard of ? Who was this young human female, who stood before a whole fist and addressed them without fear?
"I come bearing a message from my lord for the captain of this fist. Who shall receive it?"
The hobgoblins all looked to their captain, who walked forward, the human bones hanging from his belt rattled against his greaves. He looked to his witch, to his lieutenant for support. He appeared deeply unsure whether he was in trouble or if he should dispatch this human.
He stood before her. "What is the message?"
The young woman looked at the ground and shook her head once. Then she looked back at the red-skinned devil-goblin looming over her. She took a deep breath and let it out with an exasperated sigh. "I am squire Talisia, herald to Lord Uldric. You will introduce yourself properly before we proceed."
The assembled hobgoblins looked at their leader, many of them frowning. The captain frowned and stood a little straighter. "It is Captain Hor'kylut of the fifth fist under Surgav, Death Captain to Bloodlord Varrox who speaks. What is your business here?"
"Lord Uldric demands the release of our companions," she nodded at the cage across the clearing, her voice unbothered but direct.
She thought she saw the bright little faerie clap her hands in glee several times. Probably a trick of the eye.
"Your…" The captain started and he looked from the imprisoned fey to the lone human. He sneered. Some of his people laughed. "Hm," the devil-goblin captain mused. His bravado inspired his soldiers and this inspired him to greater bravery.
"Where is this, 'Lord Uldric of Vašra?'" Captain Hor'kylut made a show of looking around the clearing. "Is he nearby? Fetch him and bring him to me and perhaps I will listen. Perhaps I will…trade these two," he gestured to the cage, "for you and your master."
The young woman shook her head, a look of deep regret on her face. "Very well," she said. "I will summon Lord Uldric. I had hoped to spare Bloodlord Varrox, whose power is known to all, from the humiliation of losing an entire fist. But it seems you are committed to your own deaths. I would not have guessed these two," she said nodding at the cage, "were worth your lives, but if Bloodlord Varrox seeks the eternal enmity of House Vašra, I will supply it." She turned to leave.
"Is she bluffing??" the bright faerie asked.
"She is an excellent herald," the dark faerie said, watching the young woman intently. "She spake truth at every word except the last."
"Ah, so there is a Lord Uldric of Vašra?"
"I believe there must be, and she is his herald. 'Vašra.' An eastern county by the name, she is far from home. I believe this is something like a bluff, but she weaves the truth and falsehoods so tightly, I cannot…"
"Wait," the bright faerie said looking around the clearing, noting how the herald was positioned exactly opposite them in the clearing and every hobgoblin had their backs to the two faeries. "I recognize this story. She's not bluffing. She's stalling."
The lieutenant, eyes wild, rushed forward. "Captain!"
The young woman stopped, and turned to listen.
"What if she speaks truth?? What are these two pixies to us that they be worth our lives?"
Hor'kylut sneered at his lieutenant and turned his back. He looked at the witch who stood apart. She glowered at him, her normal expression, and shook her head once.
"Our lives?" Hor'kylut said, turning to his lieutenant and raising his voice. "Our lives? To who? To this?" he stabbed a finger at the young woman. "A single human? Against an entire fist?! Why should we not…"
The young woman interrupted him. The fact that this was even possible spoke volumes to everyone in the clearing except the hobgoblins. "My lord is not unreasonable," she said, and once again she had Hor'kylut's attention. "He understands you cannot return to your master empty handed. Therefore," she said, raising her voice so all could hear, "I am empowered to negotiate on his behalf!"
The hobgoblin captain wasn't having it. His men were confused, he tried to show strength.
"An interesting proposition. But as you see," he said, extending his arm to gesture at the cage. "We already have everything we want. And you," he looked the young woman up and down, "have nothing we need."
She scanned the clearing, making sure not to let her eyes rest, even for an instant, on the witch. She finally looked again at the captain. His helm lacked the curving horns and ceremonial enemy skull of a death captain. It was one of the main reasons she assumed she would win.
"You're wrong," she said, and her voice had gotten quieter. They had to strain, some leaning in, to hear her. She stood so casually, leaning on her spear; there was no sign that she thought a fight might break out in an instant.
"You think?" Captain Hor'kylut said, amused. He looked at her arm, her spear. "You have…something to offer us? This spear perhaps. And that arm," he said momentarily transfixed by her prosthetic. "Very…valuable?"
She articulated her fingers and the golden fingernails gleamed in the sun.
"Beyond price," she said. "But I have something even more valuable to trade."
"More…!" Hor'kylut got very excited before getting himself under control.
Not very bright, she thought.
He looked her up and down, wondering what treasure she hid. "Tell me!" he demanded.
She let the moment build for a moment looking, expressionless, at the captain, then his lieutenant. Several of the lancers and firerunners in the back took a few steps forward to hear better. She waited until she was sure they were all giving her their full attention.
"Your lives," she said. She spoke as neutrally as one commenting on the weather.
"What dialog!" the bright faerie said.
Captain Hor'kylut, expecting a quite different answer, recoiled in anger making a noise like "Angh?!"
She stood up a little straighter and raised her voice, there was steel in it now. "Surrender those two, now, no more talk. And I let you all go free. Otherwise…"
"Otherwise?" the hobgoblin captain asked in spite of himself. "Otherwise none of you leave this clearing alive."
Silence for a moment. They were already terrified and she'd done nothing. She had them. She held the initiative in her hand, waiting only for a perfect moment to unleash it.
The captain snapped out of it first. "She's bluffing!" he barked, but she detected something in his voice. Hope. He hoped she was bluffing. "She's not alone, search for her companions! We'll have no ambushes this day."
Six lancers led by a hell trooper immediately plunged into the forest. The fist tried going back to being a military unit but it was too late. They no longer knew where they stood or who was really in charge.
"Guard this one," Hor'kylut said, and six lancers surrounded her. She noted that their longspears meant they stood at a good distance. Far enough away that she would not be bothered by their burning acid hellblood when they died.
"Now," Captain Hor'kylut said, walking back and forth, feeling in charge again. "Either my scouts flush your allies out, in which case perhaps this negotiation will continue with many more hostages on my side. Or you truly are alone in which case we will prepare a larger cage for you."
Talisia shifted her weight and looked up at a lone hawk circling high overhead, wholly incurious about events below. This lack of interest caught the hobgoblin captain's attention.
"Oh, perhaps your Lord Uldric will come to your aid!" Hor'kylut halfbowed, mocking her.
"You would not wish it so…" Squire Talisia said, her eyes still on the hawk. She lowered them to look at the twisted face of Hor'kylut. "…had you seen what happens to his enemies."
Her calm confidence and the way she invoked her absent lord once again gave Captain Hor'kylut pause. Then a sound came from behind him.
They all turned to see the scouting party emerge from the thick forest. The firerunner had a green tattoo across his right eye. "Captain, the forest is empty!" he reported as his men followed him into the clearing. He was standing very near the metal cage with the two fairies in it. "Surely we are the only threat within HYAARGH!!!"
The firerunner's body suddenly split in half at the waist, a heavy white blade slicing him in two. A great gout of blood erupted from him as both halves of him fell into a pile.
A giant white feline bounded out of the forest, landing by the cage, each end of his bifurcated tail tapered into something like a knife as long as a halberd blade. One was covered in pink hobgoblin blood.
The fairies turned to each other in delight and said, at the same time, "She's a beastheart!"
The lancers braced to attack, and the giant cat let out a deafening bellow. Five of the six hobgoblins were blasted back off their feet, landing on their backs. One stood alone. It thrust its lance at the pantherous beast, piercing its skin, but the big white cat ignored the wound.
Squire Talisia spun her longspear about her and lightning erupted from the tip. In a moment, six more lancers were dead.
Captain Hor'kylut had a raging lightbender before him and an equally devastating human behind him. He pointed to the witch.
The witch twisted her arms around each other in a manner that should not have been possible, and three hell troopers translated next to Squire Talisia; the blast of superheated brimstone that heralded the hell troopers' arrival seared her flesh and scorched her armor.
"Sweetie, darling," the bright faerie said. "I believe this would be the most dramatic moment to affect our escape."
"Of course," the dark faerie said, bowing, "you know I was only waiting for your say so. I would never dream of acting in an anticlimactic manner."
"What would audiences say?" the bright faerie agreed. "And after our savior has played her part so well."
The dark faerie produced from his decolletage a tiny–or long if you were a faerie–needle with a hook at one end. He flew between the bars of his cage, his tiny wings beating slowly but scooping up more than enough air to keep him aloft, and faced the lock.
Inserting his hooked needle, he deftly unlocked the cage with a single twist, and then flew back inside the cage.
"After you," he said, deferring to the other faerie.
"Ever the soul of tact," the bright faerie said, and pushed the unlocked door to the cage open. They both flew out into the fray.
The white catbeast leapt on the lone lancer and, with a growl, twisted its head sideways grabbing the lancer by the torso. He bit down and bright pink blood sprayed out, scalding the cat's lips. The cat took no notice of its own searing flesh and shook the hobgoblin several times in rapid succession. Bones snapped, the hobgoblin squealed, and the cat threw its head back, swallowing the hobgoblin whole.
The assembled hobgoblins looked on in shock. Several of them chose to ignore their captain, running in whatever direction was convenient.
The faeries meanwhile made a beeline for their captured equipment. "Ignore the captain and his lieutenant," the bright one said as she strapped a tiny stringed instrument across her chest. "Focus on the…"
"Yes I think I've intuited our new friend's strategy," the dark faerie said, picking up several black knives and inserting them into various parts of his outfit. "Quite sound."
The bright faerie flew toward a knot of hell trooper hobgoblins. She produced a tiny plectrum.
"Darlings!" she said, and played six rapid chords. The first four a prelude, and the hell troopers turned to look at the sound. The last two a thunder.
The hell troopers flew backwards, landing prone; their flails, knocked out of their hands, landed several feet away.
Meanwhile the dark faerie flitted across the battlefield. Tiny explosions of black ash heralded his translations, allowing him to dodge several attacks until he was right behind the burning witch.
A black dagger in his hand, he plunged it into the neck of the witch, slicing right into a main artery. The witch screamed. He removed his blade and a torrent of blood emerged causing her legs to buckle for a moment.
Then a spear, the elven longspear of a templar in Lord Tear's court, hit the witch square in the chest, piercing it through, the tip protruding from her back.
She fell to the ground, dead.
The hobgoblin captain looked around. His lieutenant, most of his lancers, his hell troopers were still alive, but in an advanced state of terror and disarray. The world had gone mad in just a few heartbeats. With half his battalion still intact, he bellowed "Retreat!!"
The bright faerie joined the dark as the young woman walked calmly toward the witch's corpse, a dozen hobgoblins running past her in terror. She put her boot on the dead witch and pulled her spear free, wiping it on the witch's body.
She planted the haft of her longspear on the ground and took a casual stance, a smile playing across her lips as she watched the two faeries hovering in the air like butterflies. Occasionally they swapped places, darting like dragonflies.
"Well met," she said, and smiled.
Continued in Between Sun & Shadow.