Wednesday, October 27, 2004

Poxdrab the Barbarian in;
Where walks the witch wolf or
Which wolf walks were?
In the silvery light of a full moon they took cautions quite steps through the underbrush. Five members of the Barbarian tribe, and three elves of the Barbari-Anne’s all armed with short steel swords and wearing leather armor. The night air seemed still, and the torches they carried glowed brightly with nary a flicker. Poxdrab was second in the line, behind Rhoad, Lokkin was at the rear, behind the elves, and secretly Poxdrab wished Lokkin could be up at the front with him. Where the was little chance of his friend being distracted by the long silky hair, the slender legs, fine muscled rear…
“Poxdrab!” Rhoad snapped without raising his voice above a whisper. “Don’t follow so closely. We need to keep five steps separation at all times.”
Poxdrab stopped thinking about the elves and remembered why they were out on this chilly fall night. It was a wolf. It had killed five sheep from the heard, and just the other day Walters milking cow. It was hunting alone, this they knew for sure, and only at night. The village demanded an end to the creature, or at least relocating it to the other side of the river, where other wolves normally stayed.
“Could someone tell me why were out here in the middle of the night again?” It was Drake, the newest member of the village hunting party, and recent winner of the annual wheel ritual, who asked.
Rhoad stopped and raised his hand giving the signal for the others to stop and be alert. “It only hunts at night,” he said over his shoulder.
Poxdrab had admired Rhoad for many years. The older Barbarian was soft spoken, level headed and a trusted leader.
Rhoad signaled for the group to move on and this time towards the right, moving toward Holsten Glade, and Poxdrab held his torch up high to acknowledge the instruction.
“Why don’t we just set out a few traps,” Drake said innocently.
Rhoad snapped to a stop and turned slowly. His lips pulled tight in a frightening grimace of disapproval. Poxdrab shrugged and got out of line to move back to the young Barbarian’s position.
Speaking in a whisper Poxdrab said, “Drake, look we know you’re eager, and no one will question your courage or strength, but seriously do you have any idea how irresponsible that would be?”
“Not only that, not only that,” Ulan, who was right in front of Drake and had been quiet up till now suddenly spoke up with excitement, “ have you any idea what kind of irreparable damage a trap can cause to a animals leg. Oh, oh and not just the animal you want to trap. Those damn things are indiscriminate. Why once I had to pull a black bear free from a beaver trap. Poor thing lost two toes,” Ulan lowered his head with a disapproving shake.
There was an unmistakable sniffle, and a choked-up grunt from one of the elves and Lokkin moved up, putting an arm around the elf in the middle, the one with the red hair.
“Are you happy now? Tell me, you happy now? Now you’ve made Robyn cry. There now Robyn, the bear was okay. We still see him time to time down by the falls. Really Drake, traps. For Crom’s sake.” Lokkin moved Robyn away from the rest of the group so the young Barbari-Anne could regain her composure. It was certainly fortunate that Robyn’s tremendous compassion was very nearly matched by her tremendous bosom, putting at least one of Poxdrab’s fears to rest.
The little group was now clustered close around Drake, and unprepared for the shocking scream that came from where Lokkin and Robin had moved.
Blades flashed in the torchlight as men and women readied themselves for anything, Poxdrab and Rhoad ran to a small clearing to see Robyn on one knee her short bow pulled, as she carefully swept the glade from side to side straining to make out a target. Lokkin was on both knees, his short sword prodding at the carcass of a large elk.
“Lokkin, did you see it?” Poxdrab asked, unable to contain his excitement.
“Only a glimpse, I think. It must have heard us coming, but didn’t want to stop feasting. It darted off as we entered the glade. Look at this,” said Lokkin pointing at the flank of the elk with his sword.
Rhoad examined a slashing wound on the flank and said, “The claws are two, maybe three inches apart. He’s big, very big.”
The wolf surprised them all by returning. It charged into the glade with a howl and snarl, and went straight for Robyn. The elf did not panic, but timed her shot poorly. The wolf was to close and the arrow thudded harmlessly off the thick hide. Poxdrab moved right as Rhoad moved left, but the wolf was too fast. It leaped over Robyn and crashed into Lokkin, its fangs biting into Lokkin’s forearm, only inches away from finding the barbarians throat. Before anyone could strike the creature it bounded off through the underbrush again.
No one spoke, as Lokkin dressed his own wound, and everyone else closed in around the elk carcass, waiting for the beast to return and defend its kill. An eerie howl echoed through the trees as the group prepared for another confrontation.
Slowly, with almost an air of smugness the wolf entered the glade again. This time everyone could see how enormous the thing was, and when it stood upright on its back legs, its body changing in the moonlight mixed with torchlight to a frightening and all to familiar half-wolf half-human form standing nearly eight feet tall a new terror filled their hearts. The low growl coming from deep in the creatures chest, and drool dripping from its mouth broke down the last bit of resolve the group had and some of them fled in random directions, only Poxdrab, Robin and Rhoad stayed to face the monster. It circled in slowly, snarling and snapping, wary of the sharp blades and focusing its yellow-green eyes on the arrow ready in Robyn’s bow.
Could it dodge away in time, Robyn wondered. The adversaries measured each other with intensity, and then Poxdrab charged. He tumbled across the glade as a distraction hoping to come up right below the monster’s belly with a thrust, but it was too smart for that and leaped high above him. The wolf landed just to the right of Rhoad and the more experienced Barbarian had stood his ground. Taking the opportunity Rhoad made a strong backhand swing at the beasts’ snout. Rhoads’ sword was dashed from his grip by an almost unholy in strength downward smash of the monster’s paws, but Rhoad responded without pause and threw himself at the monster’s chest. Wrapping his arms around the beast, the old barbarian was at last startled when he realized he could not get his arms all the way around the beast. Rhoad lifted the wolf from the ground and slammed him back down with all his strength. The beast was stunned for just a moment as Rhoad yelled out, “Quick away to the river we must regroup and make a new plan!”
The three of them, Poxdrab, Rhoad and Robyn sprinted at their best speed, and were surprised to find Drake and Nell, one of the other elves, join them from the forest. Rhoad led them through the tangle of trees and shrubs at an impossible pace. Finally rounding Conner’s Rock the group threw themselves to the ground struggling to catch their breath, a cloud passed in front of the moon, their torches long since abandoned the group was now in darkness.
“Its Smart,” Poxdrab gasped.
“Huge,” Rhoad added.
“So strong. Did you see how high it jumped?” Robyn said.
“And I’m fast too,” said the wolf from his position sitting on top of Conner’s Rock.
A chorus of screams rose from the group as the wolf rose again taking part human form. Rhoad fumbled around with his hands along the ground and found a tree branch and said up at the thing, “Come and taste my wrath monster.”
The cloud moved away from the moon and silver light reflected strongly off the river. Another wolf, smaller and almost pure black bolted across the fields leaping at the Monster and knocking it to the ground. Robyn strung another arrow and tried to move away quietly to get a premium shot. The black wolf, and the were-wolf snarled at one another, the distracted were-wolf never saw the blow coming as Rhoad swung at the monsters belly. The wind was knocked out of the beast’s lungs with a loud poof sound, and Robyn let fly her arrow. The Arrow struck true, deep into the monster’s left leg. The were-wolf collapsed onto its snout with a whimper.
“Kenny!” the black wolf cried out in a woman’s voice that Poxdrab knew was unmistakable.
“Grandma?” Poxdrab managed to stammer out. In a quite different transformation, this one filled with twinkling lights and popping sounds, the black wolf transformed into a beautiful, mature, dark skinned woman with raven tresses, in a very revealing silk nightgown.
“Another were-wolf,” Nell shouted and pointed, which at this point looked ridiculous.
“Witch-wolf, actually,” the woman said as she moved toward the injured were-wolf.
“What?” Robyn asked.
“Witch,” said Poxdrab as he started towards his grandmother.
“Which?” Nell asked.
“Where?” Rhoad added, puzzlement spreading across his face.
“No,” the woman said calmly, and gesturing at herself with both hands said, “I am a witch-wolf. A witch with the ability to transform at will into the likeness of a wolf. My ex-husband here,” and gesturing again with both hands this time at the wolf on the ground, “is a were-wolf. His transformations have for years been easy for him to suppress and are only brought about by the new moon,”
Robyn interrupted her saying, “You mean the full moon,” as she pointed at the sky with her bow.
“No that is a misconception. The transformation it always brought on by the new moon, and normally lasts for three to five days. He had been able to suppress it for years, until this new moon, but the transformation kept happening and he contacted me to try and help him find the answer why. I researched for days but could not find anything to explain this behavior. We were both becoming exhausted from trying, and so we decided.” The dark woman, who up till now seemed confident and cool, began to lower her voice and seemed embarrassed to go on.
“You decided on a little kinky late night escapades.” It was Lokkin’s voice, who now moved out of the shadows from the other side of Conner’s Rock holding his injured arm in pain.
Suddenly the small clearing in front of Conner’s Rock began to fill with strange shadows. Everyone looked to the sky to see the moon appear to disappear as a dark shape moved across its face.
“Of course,” the dark woman cried. “An eclipse, why didn’t I think of it. Kenny it’s just a lunar eclipse. Just like that time eight years ago,” she said as she knelt by the fallen wolf’s head.
The wolf on the ground regained its breath and finally spoke, “Lucy I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause all this, and embarrass you,” the were-wolf said as he transformed into Chief Runtotheleft.
Seeing his grandfather naked was perhaps the most frightening thing Poxdrab had ever seen.

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