3.07 - Greybriar Hollow

Disheartened, Anneleigh left the small camp and returned to Gloamwood Pines.  She was not sure what she misunderstood in the transcation, but something had gone wrong.  With no further actions to go on from Laria, she decided to return to Gwyddon to see what he suggested.    When she arrived, however, she found he was not alone.

“Greetings, Anneleigh.  So you’re that Rogue that cleaned up the Darkening Deeps?  Ha!  I expected you to be taller.” The hunter said after Gwyddon had made the introductions.

“News travels fast, or so I’ve been told.” Anneleigh said, limiting her smile.  She wanted to appear modest, to down play her abilities until she knew what he wanted.

“Names Nightclaw, and I’ve got a lead on this beast.  I could use you on this hunt.  What do you say?”

“What kind of beast?” Gwyddon asked; it was the very question Anneleigh was about to voice.

Nightclaw gave a non-committal shake of his head.  “You know how hunting tales work.  Each retelling grows the story until it is no longer believable.”

Anneleigh smiled, knowing just how to play this.  “So give us your tale then.  Your hunting senses are keen – we would trust your judgement.”

Anneleigh gave a wink to Gwyddon who smiled in return.  She was unsure why she felt Gwyddon would appreciate her manipulation of his friend, but it seemed well received.

“I... well... I remember... I remember shadows... and claws.”  He stammered before adjusting his gun and looking her straight in the eye.  “Scouts found a brutishly large barghest in the cave at Greybriar Hollow, along with many smaller ones.  We cannot allow their nightly attacks to go on.”

It was now Anneleigh’s turn to stammer.  “You... You believe this creature is responsible for what your mayor calls “The Horror”?” She asked in one quick breath. 

“No other animal has even come close in description.  What else could it be?”  Nightclaw said in a low voice.  “While you’re there, see if you can collect some of the plants that grow in the area for the Doctor, he thinks it will help the wounds of the bitten.”   He said.  There was an air of finality in his voice – Anneleigh was sure he would not take no for an answer.

She sighed loudly and motioned to Gwyddon to follow her to the edge of town.

“You don’t have to go.” Gwyddon said to her as they walked.  “If Nightclaw is scared of this beast, it must be a holy terror.”

“That is why I suppose I must.  You, here in Gloamwood Pines, do not have many ascended willing to take on the task.”

Gwyddon stopped in his tracks; it was a few moments before Anneleigh realized she was walking alone.  He did not speak until she turned around to face him again.  “This is not why you asked me to walk with you, is it Anneleigh.  Not just in the hope I’d tell you not to go.”

Anneleigh shook her head.

“What did you learn from Laria?  I did not expect you back so soon.”

Anneleigh walked back to Gwyddon and looked him straight in the face.  “I don’t know what happened.  She asked me to fetch her family trinket and when I returned she was gone before I could even register her thanks. “

“That seems strange.” Gwyddon said.  “Spirit protectors are usually more....”

“Respectful?  Appreciative?  Helpful?”  Anneleigh supplied.

“Well, not that I’ve spoken to one, but yes.” Gwyddon said defensively.  “Laria is the spirit protector of Gloamwood.  If she was unable to help you further, there is a good reason.  I am sure of that.”

Anneleigh sighed a little.  “Do you know of any other Alters I might try?”

“None.  Why don’t you give it some time; track down this beast and the moon blossoms while you let her recover.  Maybe after that she’ll have the energy to speak to you again.”

“I suppose it’s possible.  Though, if Nightclaw is correct in thinking this is the monster responsible for the Gloamwood Horror there will be nothing left for us to need Laria for.  She’ll be free to live in the forest in peace.”  Anneleigh said, though even as she did, she knew this common, though large, Barghest was not the beast responsible.

Anneleigh and Gwyddon walked further in silence until they reached the last guard post before the open path.  From there, Anneleigh travelled the path alone, winding towards Tearfall Run and the Greybriar Hollow.   

Her feeling of uncertainty grew as she approached the opening of the cave.   She looked around at the Barghest den.  Mother’s with their cubs, lounging or cleaning the young.  These were no monsters.  They were native to Telara.  Barghests have probably lived here in Gloamwood longer than the Mathosians and Dwarves; maybe even as long as the Elves themselves.  Tavril charged the Elves with the safety of the forest.   She hunted for her own survival.  But killing a deer to feed a settlement, or killing a wolf as it bared down on her was very different from entering the home of a creature.  Anneleigh struggled to remember a time she tracked and killed an animal that had killed a villager.  She could not remember a similar situation and concluded this situation, here in Gloamwood, would be her first hunting assignment where her target was only guilty of doing what came naturally for their survival.

As she contemplated her assignment, she began to feel sick.  She took a moment to sit, head between her knees on a rock near the mouth of the den.  As she recovered, she thought about her next actions.  She could enter the cave, find the matriarch, slaughter it and return its carcass to Nightclaw – letting the rest of the pack live in peace for the short time they could survive without their matriarch, or she could return to Gloamwood Pines without a prize and claim her abilities were no match for their strength – causing the hunters of Gloamwood to regroup and try their luck again. 

Anneleigh weighed her options as she gathered the moon blossoms the doctor required to treat the injured.   When her quiver could hold no more she took a deep breath, stood tall and entered the den.

She skirted the edge of the den until she found what she was looking for: an older female Barghest who had become sick or injured and was set aside by her pride.  

“Tavril forgive me for taking one of your creatures.” Anneleigh whispered as she approached.

The wounded creature had not lost her senses for the hunt and heard Anneleigh as she approached, but with no strength to defend itself the fight was quickly over.  As she hoped, the others in the pride did little in defense of their fallen.  In their eyes, she was already dead.  Anneleigh hosted the carcase over her shoulders and backed out of the cave, turning only when she was sure they would not follow.