An array of stars sparkled against the night like sunlight striking a beach of black sand.  The moon was bigger and closer than Ayara had ever before seen or imagined. She clasped her hands together, cold and dry in the nighttime air, to fight a childish urge to reach up and see if she could brush its powder blue surface with her fingertips.

Stepping back, she stumbled into Kornin, a warm mountain of man who placed his hands on her hips and pulled her against him as he rubbed his cheek to hers.  “It’s amazing, isn’t it,” he whispered.  His voice was obscured by a crackling fire.  They stood there and admired the view. Ayara raised up her right arm and draped it across the back of his neck as they watched the still sky above.  The pleasant smokiness of romantic, roaring fire in the distance made the moment even more perfect.

Rolling up her sleeves, Bonnelle Rhodian intruded on the couple’s embrace. “Right, this is your first time in the Land of Darkness.  There’ll be plenty of time to admire it later.”

Henri said whisked past his team astride his raven.  “We’ve work to do!”

Following close behind on her sparrow, Renaut shouted “we’re running reconnaissance!” The paths of the siblings’ birds intertwined as they flew toward the forest.

As Ayara watched them disappear into the trees she noticed flames licking the ground at the edge of the clearing.  “Forest fire?!” She looked about and saw that the Yendell soldiers were going about the duties of setting up their camp with little concern for the flames, although there appeared to be a team or two rushing toward the edge of the clearing to handle that issue.  

Lt. Chrincha strode past the couple in a stiff walk.  “You two are done musing over the moon,” he said as he gave them a sidelong glance.  “Your sprites left,” he said to Bonnelle.  “We have not yet secured this location. We can’t afford to spread out.”

“They’re scouting.” She circled around to take in the extent of the clearing bordered by fire. “You dropped a Dragon’s Turd just ahead of us?”

“Dragon’s Egg,” Chrincha corrected with a grumble.

“Either way, it was a smart move. Destructive, but smart.  That way we didn’t get skewered by a tree or squished beneath rocks as we appeared.” She beckoned Ayara and Kornin closer.  They leaned into the conversation.  “I appreciate that you’re the commanding officer here, however you’ve hired us because of our experience in the Dark Lands.  I can’t be burdened by having to clear mine or my team’s actions with you every time we make one. Letting us do things our way will ensure success for your mission.”

The Lieutenant stared at Bonnelle, stone faced. “Understood, Lady Rhodian.” He closed his eyes as he did, but beneath the lids Ayara could see them rolling. The soldier leaned back and sighed.  “It’s not necessary for them to survey the area.”

“While I’m sure you’ve plenty of maps of the area—,” Bonnelle started.

“We do,” Lt. Chrincha said.

“But that’s just elevations, borders, and outlines.  Out here, you need to know about the flora and fauna.  Especially the fauna. Migration routes. Nesting grounds. Feeding grounds.”

“This isn’t a big game hunt, Lady Rhodian,” the Lieutenant informed her without a hint of sarcasm.

“No. But the animals don’t care why we’re here.  Can you smell that?” She took in a deep breath.  A moment ago, the air had changed, and the sharp smoke of wood had mingled with the succulent aroma of roasted meat tainted by scorched fur. “It’s like the kitchen of a dwarven tavern out here. You killed a herd with that Dragon’s Egg.  By the hint of roasted blood petals in the air I would guess it was spike antlers.”

“I’m aware of them. They’re like aggressive deer.  They won’t pose a threat.” The Lieutenant placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“Oh, they’re little sweethearts, especially the babies.  The problem is that fur claws feed on spike antlers and you’ve just prepared quite a feast for them!”

The fur claws were among the most notorious of wild beasts that roamed the Land of Darkness.  Standing at least twice as tall as the average elf a swipe from their shaggy paws was known to rend the stiffest of armors.  “Our weapons,” Ayara gasped. She dashed from the others and tried to spot Corporal Yalcha.  She found him distributing boxes and approached, eager to ask for her gloves back.  Just as she reached him, a roar cut through the fire, wind, and nerves of most who heard it.

“What in the Makers’ designs was that,” shrieked one soldier as she dropped a box.

“It sounded like a bear, a whole sloth of them, at once!”  Another soldier answered.

“Or ... a pack of wolves?”

“You’re both right!” Bonnelle strode up with Lt. Chrincha and Kornin in tow.  “Fur claws, clawfords, or bearwulvs.  All the same thing around here.  Some weird experiment by a wraith long ago that got loose and has been plaguing the Dark Lands’ wilderness ever since.”

“Corporal Yalcha, see to it the Rude Rubies are armed immediately,” Lt. Chrincha commanded. 

The meek soldier dove into a pile of boxes. “Find me the ones with inventory marker ‘RR’,” Yalcha commanded his materiel staff.

“How close,” a soldier asked. His eyes bulged as his vision swept across the horizon.

“Too close,” Renaut answered while swooping into the clearing.  “About six of them are heading this way!” She pointed back into the woods as she landed on the ground of blackened grass and singed twigs.  “From that direction!” She pointed south. As she swung her tiny arm, little more than a tiny twig itself, it sliced a ribbon of smoking drifting from under her feet.

Her eyes returned to Corporal Yalcha as he manically searched through boxes. “Where’s Henri? Is he okay,” Ayara asked through clenched teeth.  

“He’s gathering ingredients,” Renaut answered.

“Makes sense.” Kornin had found his weapon.  The stripped tree trunk that was only slightly bigger than him bore no enchantments and so had not been sealed away while the ritual was performed.

“Ingredients for what? Poison to combat the beasts?” The Lieutenant was standing near Yalcha and two others as they browsed the boxes piled on a palette.

“Stupid elves,” Renaut shouted with a voice full of venom.  She climbed onto Chirpers back and took off.

“Even better, Lieutenant; it’ll be a repellant,” Bonnelle answered.  She further explained that sprites were not inclined to poison animals out of fear they might harm animals feeding on the corpses.

Another roar came.  This one was nearer and fiercer.  Birds rattled treetops as they took flight and the screeches of panicked animals spread through the woods.  After telling the Corporal to continue searching for the Rude Rubies weapons, Lt. Chrincha called a team to him, and they headed toward the southern end of the clearing.  Bonnelle went along with them. Kornin followed while casually bobbing his club against his left shoulder. Ayara hesitated, not wanting to stray far from Yalcha in case he found her gloves. As they approached the clearing’s border the elf grumbled and slowly joined the others.

Everyone crowded behind Kornin and peered into the woods.  Just a few paces in the light from their torches was swallowed by shadows.  Only the crackle of flames could be heard.  A low snuffling cut through.  Everyone huddled closer.  There was the snap of a branch and the knock of it striking something else. In the distance a shade bobbed and made tree limbs sway as it brushed past them.

Chirpers landed on Ayara’s shoulder. “They know we’re here and they know we know they’re here,” Renaut whispered to Ayara.

“How do you know they know we know?” Ayara whispered from the corner of a sly smile.

“They smell us. Or hear us. Or see the torches,” the sprite answered with a scoff.  Ayara winced as Chirpers nervously tightened his grip and pinched her skin with his tin talons.  “They’re circling.  Looking for a place they think we’re not.”

“What if we just let them take roasted spike antlers,” Ayara wondered aloud. “Then they’ll leave us in peace.”

“That could work,” Bonnelle whispered.  “Except we’ve been bathing in their scent since we got here.  The fur claws will be a few bites in before they realize we’re not the same and by then they probably won’t care.”

There was a bloodcurdling scream back in the camp.  Ayara turned and saw the great silhouette of a fur claw—more like a small hill—as it swiped down at an elven soldier.  Some part flung off the unfortunate warrior, who immediately crumpled to the ground. “They’re coming from the east!” Arrows whistled through the air at the fur claw with most bouncing off the thick hide and clattering down.

“And the south,” Kornin backed up, keeping his distance as a storm hurtled towards them.  He knocked Bonnelle to the ground before the fur claw burst into the clearing.  It stood on its hind legs, howling to the moon above.  A soldier jabbed her spear at the animal, snagged the head in its claws and snapped it off.  The creature flung the blade at the soldier.  The wedge caught in the woman’s shoulder and knocked her to the ground.  Sprawled across the brittle, burnt forest floor she stared at the wound in shock with ash smeared across her face.  Her wide, white eyes weren’t even paying attention to the beast about to descend on her.  

Kornin saved the Yendell soldier by striking the fur claw against the stomach with his club.  The monster doubled over; the wind knocked out of it by a rippling crack that must have shattered its ribs.  The animal was not beaten, however, and with a drooling huff it shoved away Kornin’s club and gazed at him with bloodthirsty intent.

Blocking the beast’s swipe with his club, Kornin commented: “Impressive beast!” Woodchips flew as the monster mauled his weapon.  “I hope I can get a pelt from one of these!  It will get peoples’ attention back home.”

Ayara held up her arms to shield herself from the splinters buffeting her.  Renaut took flight to escape the chaos.  Thoughtlessly, the elf pointed her hands at the animal while moving her fingers to cast a spell from gloves she wasn’t wearing.

Kornin pivoted to draw the fur claw’s attention from the soldier as her comrades dragged her away.  He swatted at the back of the animal’s knee, and it buckled, hobbling it. The fur claw let off a growl that grew from a sickening gurgle.

“Allow me,” Chrincha stepped forward, nudging Bonnelle behind him.  Chrincha drew his sword, a needle-like foil meant for precise strikes.  He lined up a thrust at the animal’s head while it was lower to the ground.  The fur claw spotted his incoming attack and twisted about in time to keep the point of the sword from stabbing it through the eye.  Instead, the blade brushed its nape as the animal rolled over, wildly flailing its limbs.  Kornin was nicked on the leg as he scrambled to escape.  Chrincha stepped aside and stabbed down, pinning one of the massive paws into the dirt.

Its paws were not like those of bears in the World of Light. There, the animals made sense: one claw to a finger.  This thing, however, seemed to have a club for a hand, with jagged, barbed blades protruding every which way up to the elbow. It tried to wrench its hand free by rocking side-to-side. Then in a frustrated fit, it yanked its arm up and sent the Lieutenant’s blade high into the air, trailed by a stream of black blood that glistened in the moonlight.

“Where is the enchanted equipment,” the Lieutenant barked at his soldiers as he stepped back and deftly caught the foil by its handle mid-fall.

“The Corporal has unsealed the containers and is on his way, sir,” someone responded as he shot an arrow into the fur claw’s shoulder. It howled in anger, baring teeth which jutted from its gums at odd spots. Some of the larger ones tore through the animal’s lip.  As Ayara stood there, wondering what pains these animals endured simply be being, she didn’t hear recognize the charging of another one of these beasts from behind.  

“Get down,” Kornin shouted as he pulled Ayara to the ground with him. Burnt roots scraped her arms as they skidded to a stop. A cloud of dust and ash wafted over the couple as they watched the animal dash past them.  “Are you okay,” Kornin coughed.

Ayara looked up and saw a second fur claw had entered the fray with Lt. Chrincha and his team.   Although the officer was fighting admirably, with his team’s attention divided they’d have no chance.  “Yes. Thank you,” she answered, breathless, as she got to her feet. “These things are tearing us apart!”

Bonnelle ran past the couple, away from the fight and towards the camp. “I think I see the Corporal!” One of the fur claws was barreling down on the Rude Rubies with footfalls that rattled the ground. Bloodstained drool dripped from its lips as it let off a shriek. 

Kornin stood up and braced his club with both hands. “Come on, big guy!” Ayara skittered out of the way and watched as he swung his club and cracked it against the animal’s snout.  With a whine the beast tumbled away but only a moment later it stood, claws digging in the ground, and snarled with little more than a bloody nose.  They circled each other, with the towering elf hefting his club.  Even when facing a beast who could tear him to shreds he had a playful grin.

Just as Ayara was worrying that playful grin might be torn from his face Bonnelle charged at the monster and butted it with her hammer.  Bones cracked as the shiny head of her weapon smacked down on its leg.  The animal dropped to the ground and looked back, bewildered.  “Get your gear, Ayara!” Bonnelle and Kornin dispatched the monster amid a flurry of blows from their blunt weapons which slaughtered it with gruesome brutality.

Panting heavily, Corporal Yalcha shoved a small bundle into Ayara’s right hand.  “My gloves!”  She pinched the weapons under her arm as she searched for her screwdriver in the satchel hanging off her hip.  Once that was found she hung the right glove off her palm and began unlocking the iris with it, turning the screw.   The screams and roars around her made her hands tremble.  The head of the screwdriver slipped loose, nicking her wrist and eliciting a wincing gasp.  It seemed a foolish thing to suffer while soldiers were being eaten alive and animals pummeled to paste.    

With both gloves on Ayara threw the tool back in its bag and assessed the skirmishes in all directions.  She had her choice of three nearby, one lead by Lt. Chrincha, one being joined by Kornin and Bonnelle, and the last with four soldiers struggling against one of the smaller fur claws. Deciding to go where she was most needed, Ayara headed towards them.

The fur claw swatted down at the soldiers as they jabbed their swords at it.  The claws shredded a soldier’s shield as he blocked the blow.  He hurled the torn metal in response and it chopped into the monster’s thigh like an axe.

“Inventive,” Ayara muttered before shouting “stand clear!”

A couple of them glanced in her direction with quizzical expressions that asked “why should we listen to you?”  Those were replaced with recognition, and they spread out as Ayara directed her palms at the beast. She tapped down her fingertips—which were engraved with runic symbols—to the upper part of her palms. Depressing different combinations resulted in different kinds of effects based on the combination of runes. She sent a piercing bolt of blue at its right haunch as it shuffled toward a conscript. A ring of blood spurt out from where it met on the animal’s rear. 

It turned to her, snarling as it rocked its head from side-to-side.  She hit it again, this time along the shoulder to make sure it knew she was the one it wanted.  The monster charged.  Ayara smiled and loosed several more shots, mashing her fingers for each bolt.

Ayara watched, frozen, as the shots glanced off the beast’s skull.  The fur claw bore down on her with its mouth hanging open to bite.  In a panic she called for a broad and intense attack with her fingertips.  The force of the blue flames erupting from her palms threw the elf to the ground.  Engulfed in flames the monster veered off while screaming in panic.  Sprawled on the ground, Ayara’s momentary relief disappeared as she watched the fur claw gallop back towards her.

Cocking her arms, Ayara releases blasts that were more like fistfuls of pellets than arrows.  They were meant to tear flesh and cause pain.  The attacks popped as they were consumed by the blaze, although some struck and sent sizzle chunks of flesh flying off. 

The beast continued its charge unphased, however, and Ayara scrambled to her feet. Her boots skid along the dirt and she stumbled.  Gasping for air, she watched the flaming monstrosity approach.  Bracing herself, she hoped the monster would kill her before she felt the fire. 

Then a series of blasts, darker blue, and slower than her gloves’ attacks, struck the monster in clouds of white sparks.  The fur claw stopped.   Dazed, it took a few wobbling steps before flopping on its side.

“Chrincha!” Ayara gasped with admiration as she saw the Lieutenant appraising the burning remains.  He was holding his staff, capped by a crystal like the ones in her gloves.  However, this one was bigger than the pair combined.

“Lieutenant,” Lt. Chrincha corrected as he approached her.  With a spinning flourish the officer held his staff behind his back. 

“Interesting weapons.” He eyed her gloves with deathly lust. 

“Made them myself,” she said with childish glee.

There was a hint of a nod of approval.  Then his face soured, and he looked at her with less appreciation. “I thought you were a professional. Don’t give in to panic. I must focus on my soldiers.” He stepped past her and called to the group of soldiers they’d saved.  “You, Squad Eight, you’re assigned to Ayara!”

Ayara watched the flame-licked corpse of the fur claw.  “Assigned?”

 

It took the better part of an hour before the pack of fur claws were subdued.  The hold outs were driven off when Henri pelted them with leaf-wrapped packets which exploded into brown clouds. 

Ayara pinched her nose closed with one hand and wafted away the air with the other.  “What in the two worlds was that,” she asked in a nasally whine.   

“I made something to smell like troll urine,” Henri answered, bristling with pride.

“Those creatures fear trolls,” Chrincha asked with disbelief, his chest raising as though he laughed.  Ayara agreed; she doubted such fearsome things were bothered by wraiths.

“Not quite fear.  But they’ll avoid them if they can,” Henri said. He shot off with some spare packets hanging off his crow in a net.  

Ayara collapsed to the ground.  She kneaded her sweaty skin with the metal fingertips of her gloves.  It felt better than it should.  With a sigh she looked up at the sky.  The stars still sparkled, the moon was still big and blue, but in the distance funeral pyres burned.  It was better to burn the fallen soldiers’ bodies than bury them as that might attract horrific carrion eaters.  She was, after all, in the Land of Darkness, and here everything was horrible and out to kill.  She couldn’t wait to rescue her uncle and flee this horrid place. She closed her eyes and imagined she was back home, in a night of starless twilight.