System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 1999 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 91
“Rumble—”
Thunder rolled, the pale moon slipping behind black clouds, bright silver snakes of lightning writhing through the inky sky. Suddenly a single raindrop cut the darkness and fell, finally landing in an outstretched palm.
Roy drew his hand back from the tent flap, “It’s raining...” The words barely left his lips before, as if some signal had been triggered, rain came in sheets. Silver lines stitched the darkness, a deluge hammered tents and wagons, a dense drumbeat on canvas that set nerves on edge.
A fierce north wind tugged at the tents with a whistling pull; pegs creaked and wobbled as if about to be ripped free.
The weather offered no mercy.
“Something’s wrong!” Roy crouched and dove from the tent; the Witcher followed into the downpour.
Their clothes were soaked through in an instant, but there was no time to worry about that—someone from The Sea Scorpion’s Enigma was out in the dark, howling with a cry that would have been swallowed by the rain if not for its animal panic.
They hurried over. “Brother, what happened?”
“A monster ... a monster attacked the camp...” the man gasped, seizing the Witcher’s hand. Rain sluiced his cheeks, making his face ashen. “Master Letho, you’re a Witcher, please, help us!” His body shook like a man seized by a fit; he was clearly terrified.
“Where are the others? Where did they go?”
“Aveline, Kantila and a few of the brothers ran after it toward the marsh! I ... they told me to stay ... to watch the camp.”
Roy glanced out over the dark fields beyond the camp. With rain and night his vision was limited to twenty feet or so; it would be foolish to dash out after them in such conditions.
“Don’t panic.” The Witcher traced a pattern with his fingers and used the Axii sign to calm the watcher, “The rain just started. Did you see the thing? What did it look like?”
“It was too dark, I couldn’t see clearly, only that its eyes were like a cat’s and a wolf’s, they glowed faint in the night!”
“Which direction did boss Aaron head?”
The man frowned and thought, “I didn’t see boss Aaron, but I saw Fenn and Tawn fly off to the east!”
The Witcher told him, “Roy and I will go and return. Stay here and watch the camp, don’t wander off!”
“Master Letho, please, I beg you!”
...
Leather boots sank into the sodden mud as the two strode into the black night. The Witcher’s eyes glinted with a feral light; he carried Gwyhyr, Roy carried a hand crossbow. They took no torches; moonlight alone was enough to guide them.
“Somewhere we’ve got it wrong,” Roy said, annoyed. “If it’s truly the guardian of The Sea Scorpion’s Enigma, why make such a commotion on a stormy night? Wouldn’t it risk the troupe’s members?”
The Witcher replied flatly, “By day it already noticed our abnormality. Tonight’s noise is just bait to draw us out.”
“Then we’re walking into a trap...”
“If we do nothing, it’ll come to us. It won’t be so ‘civil’ then. Be prudent, go see what it wants.”
They hunched low and used the rain as cover, moving stealthily through the dark.
Not far on, a single flicker of fire marked the troupe’s location and faint, orderly voices could be heard; things seemed normal.
Just as they closed, a Owlcat suddenly shot from the gloom and hovered before them, giving two soft “coos.” Rain drenched its wings and it flew awkwardly, then settled on Roy’s shoulder with a comic clumsiness, lifted a wing and pointed left.
“If I remember right, that’s Aaron’s owl, Fenn. She’s guiding us?” Roy muttered. Fenn, unnervingly human in manner, bobbed her head at him, then spread her wings, pressed down on her talons and waggled her plump rear as she crouched.
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