1-5 “Thing”

I reflexively activate and toss one of my standard issue light rods to the middle of the clearing. Usually more effective than a torch, it isn't much help here. I still can't quite make out this things shape in the shadows. It's currently looming over Tracker Stanton, and I'm not about to lose a man to my own uncertainty.

Charging, I bring my halberd forward and down onto the things back. No sound other than the crack of metal on soft rock. I only feel the hide, or whatever this thing is covered in, give way a little. I cant even try to tackle something this big off of someone, its easily bigger than a full grown bull.

“Come on! Off him! Pay attention to me!” I hear a gasp from Stanton. The thing is ignoring me, so I drop another Light rod after a second ineffectual swing. I can see it now, though the darkness lingers, it almost looks as if a sculptor couldn't decide what animal he wanted to carve. Before me stands a translucent crystalline being that looks like a mix of animals. I can see the light being drawn towards and into this thing.

Everything that I see mixed here is native to the region, or one of the missing animals. Deer antlers, a wolfish mouth, bovine legs, a real amalgamation of parts. Are those tiny little chicken wings, I see?

Now that I see a head to attack, I take a swing. Stanton seems to have been stunned by its tackle, only now reaching for his weapon. At this first sign of movement the creature opens its mouth and fires a 'tongue' at him, piercing his shoulder. Stanton freezes, he doesn't go limp, he doesn't yell, he just freezes. I'd cut the tongue off, but I would need to swing so hard I might hit Stanton underneath.

I get a swing into a soft spot, at least this thing has some. It pays me back by jabbing at me with those antlers. I'm slow to duck to the side, and it tosses me several feet back. I get up in time to see it open its mouth impossibly wide and swallow Stanton whole.

When I was young, my father once took me to see the ocean. We went fishing and caught a jellyfish that had caught a smaller fish. I had never thought about what that fish must've been going through until I saw Stanton inside that Creature, its 'stomach' distending with the frozen prey inside.

It turns to me. Its tongue flashes out again. I sidestep, but it still grazes my arm, cutting right through the leather protecting it. I feel it, something trying to wrest my body from my control, keep me still.

This isn't poison, it's magic, I can fight back against that.

1-4 “Trail”

Stanton and I make our way back to the west edge of town and to the edge of Old Man Winterleaf's farm. We talk a bit along the way. I find we don't have much in common, he likes to drink when off duty and wander about watching the street performers that have been increasing in number since the city started flourishing. He has no immediate family, and lives at the barracks. He moved in with the rest of the watchmen and soldiers that were sent here when the city started to really expand.

We do share a love of cards and various forms of solitaire. I show him my deck that's enchanted to float in place for play away from a table, I keep it for when I'm stuck at a post in the quiet parts of town. It cost a bit much but I feel it was worth it. He asks where he could get one.

We arrive at the broken fence. Old Man Winterleaf is working at repairing it.

Stanton stops a few feet past the fence, alongside the tracks. “You were right, these are strange. I don't know what it might be.”

“So, no idea what left them? Should we call for a third, perhaps one of the nearby patrolmen?”

“It doesn't look like it's too big for two men to deal with, though. I think we can manage.”

We head along the trail, I was right it leads past the road. Stanton doesn't think the thing is smart or it would have walked along the cobblestone road a ways to cover its tracks. It starts to rain and Stanton has to slow down and keep a close eye on the ground to keep the trail.

“We're not very far from the goblin village, should we go that way and see if they have any information?”

“No, I don't want to lose this trail to the rain. If we don't find it and lose the trail, that might be a good idea, assuming we can trust anything those little buggers have to say.”

“That's odd. . .” Stanton stops. This area has been cleared a bit. A sort of nest sits in the middle, it looks somewhat crushed. “Whatever was last in this nest was too big for it, and the trail past here is fresh. It's easy to follow through the mud.”

“So it left recently?”

“Yeah, and quickly, too. No sign of dragging after it stopped here, and its strides are longer. Might've heard us coming and run off. We should be extra care. . .”

His word are cut off as a blur of movement slams into him from the hedges nearby, the area nearby grows dark.

1-3 “HQ”

“Watchman Nivar, strange to see you back at this hour, what do you need?”

I salute Assistant Commander Staghorn before responding.

“Sir, I finally have a lead on all of those missing animals. There's a trail this time, but the rain is rolling in. Are any of the trackers available?” I say any, though I'd rather not have to work with Tracker Percival. That guy is really annoying, even if he is a good tracker.

“Really now? That's some good news, not enough of that around here lately.” He won't say it but I know what he's referring to. The city finally got large enough to draw the interest of organized crime, caught someone trying to sell blue-powder in the alleyways a few days ago. “I think Tracker Stanton is in the yard shooting some rounds of target practice. Why don't you go get him.”

Thank goodness he knows to leave it at that, if The Commander was in I'd have to refuse another promotion. They like my work, but they want me out of the city and on road patrol, and I care more for the people that live here than the constant caravans running through to get the best prices.

Haven't seen Tracker Stanton much, he often gets sent out to deal with wolves or other predators that decide to come and attack livestock. If he determines the track to just be some animal I'm supposed to leave it to him to deal with a problem like this one. If he thinks its something else, then I'll be coming along for protection. I've heard he's better with his bow than he is at following a trail. Then again, I hear he's very good with that bow.

I go around back to the guard house training yard, just big enough to have a decent archery range, though people practicing at hand to hand and melee have to trust the archers to be able to shoot relatively straight. Nearly got hit by a misfire while demonstrating tripping techniques here. Not the archers fault, the crossbow's lever broke, that one made administration change the layout of the training grounds. I hear we're getting a shipment of Dwarven gear. Until that shows up I'll stick to my personal equipment. Maybe even after it arrives, it's much better than standard gear.

Never used my crossbow off of the range here, though dad constantly reminds me that I should always have a ranged weapon handy. Out of respect for his military experience I still practice with it and keep it in my magic pouch, always get distracted when I try to think of how that pouch works. This time I convince myself, 'It's magic, I should focus for now.'

There he is, has the build I'd expect of a tracker, long legs, light frame, wiry build. Practicing with a non-standard issue longbow, he has a good rhythm going, load, aim, fire, hit, load, aim, fire, hit. “Tracker Stanton?” He nods but keeps on firing, “Are you familiar with the missing animals, west side? We thought it might have been theft because of the lack of tracks, but this time some were left. I'd like you to take a look.”

“Ah, so you're Watchman Nivar, you've got fans up top, they seem to think if they can get you out of the city and on the roads that they won't need to worry about bandits ever again.”

“So I've heard.” I hope my tone says: please, drop it here. This is why I can't stand Tracker Percival.

“Finally have tracks to work with, any idea what they might be?” He looks over, gray eyes, that's not a common sight.

Thank you, glad he can keep his head on something that matters. “No, they don't look familiar. It has claws, and can drag away a cow without leaving a blood trail,” I hadn't thought about that part before. How could something so big be taken back so cleanly? No blood and not much sign of struggle on the cow's end, “I suspect that, whatever it is, it may be is poisonous.”

“Well now, I guess it's a two man job, then. Drinks are on me, when we get back.”

I guess he hasn't heard that I don't drink.

1-2 “Leads”

Looks like rain is rolling in, I could probably follow this trail on my own now, but once the rain starts coming down I'd need a real tracker, better head back to the guard house. No clue what those footprints could be, but the trail was heading into the woods, maybe even across the main road. If that's the case it'll be heading towards either Lady Averdine's mansion, never had to go there before, they like their privacy, or the goblin village, been there far to often.

I've heard the Lady Averdine is a sorceress and that she does some strange magical experiments. It may be that one of them escaped. If that's the case, I would want more people in case it's something really bad, I hear the last experiment that got out of control down there nearly ended up overrunning their whole estate. Hopefully it won't be that bad

If it's the goblins causing trouble I could see our liberators taking measures to drive them away, but while the goblins aren't very bright, I don't think they're dumb enough to go drawing our ire by stealing livestock. The goblins in that village aren't aggressive, like I hear most goblins are but they still get into a lot of small mischief. They spent a little while in town while after our liberators found their village nearby.

They were being harassed by a local gang of ogres, and for some reason our liberators decided to let them stay in town while the ogres were dealt with. They didn't attack anyone but they did cause a bit of trouble, most of us wanted to be rid of them. They seemed to also want to leave and get back to their home, and after our liberators dealt with the ogres, they did. A few stuck around, and where they live is probably the first ghetto of the city.

Every time they cause too much trouble common rule is to kick the offending pest out and run it back to its own town. Other than that our liberators seem to have taken a live and let live standpoint with them.

Oh, lost in thought. I'm already back.

1-1 “Times Change”

I don't know if I like how the village has changed. In just a few months it's gone from a small hamlet, where everyone knew each other, to a large city. I'd say it all came down to a change in leadership. Once we were under the thumb of a rather deranged wizard, Iztram. I don't know how he came to rule Midrange Keep, and us with it. He ruled with an iron fist and barely left us with enough to live off of after taxing us. Merchant caravans had stopped coming through because of the tolls, and life was getting really bad. The people were on the verge of revolt, then it happened. He was killed.

Our liberators had heard about troubles in the capitol, when they went to investigate they found the King under a spell. They killed Iztram, breaking the spell, saving the King and possibly the realm with him. They then aided in the defense of the capitol against a large force of dark elves, their spells and leadership assuring victory. For all their work they were awarded Midrange Keep and the surrounding lands.

They're around sometimes, but most often they are away. I've seen them once when they first came into town. They stopped by the tavern before even going to their castle, talked with a few people. Things improved rather quickly. They must make plenty of money running around doing their good deeds, one of the first things they did was lower the taxes to almost nothing. I've heard from the guards stationed at the castle that they don't tax us more than the King taxes them. They also came into possession of some sort of magic item that allowed for the rapid construction of buildings. They set to work immediately improving our housing and expanding the village. Caravans started coming back, and with them more and more people that settle down and stay. Before I knew it, we had become a large city.

Here I am, still a street watchman, with more people came more crime. It isn't much yet, sometimes a person gets lost on the roads going south, or a spat over whose property ends where will lead to a small fight. Mostly, I still respond more to reports of missing livestock than cases of theft or other crimes. In fact that's what I'm up to now.

“I'm telling you, Nivar. Something stole'er,” the old man's voice was more than a little loud as he related to me what happened. “She was a real prize cow, best milk in th'city. Sh'was always docile she'd never run off before, and ain't never'ven thrown a-fit. I saw't, broke right though m'fences n' drug 'er off! Just a big shadow, 'n thennothing!”

Drunk, just what I need, old man Winterleaf spinning stories of monsters stealing livestock.

I'd just write this off as another runaway and leave it for a tracker to find the wayward beast, but there was one thing that made me stay and ask, “Can you describe what took your cow? Or was it too dark?” I knew I wasn't going to get an accurate report from him but the fence was definitely crushed inward, and, while this wasn't the first time something like this has happened in the last few days, this was the first time the livestock taken was bigger than a person.

“No, I 'lready told you there was a big shadow in th'dead 'f night, not even the moon wanted to show it up! But lookit those tracks it must've left'm,” This was also the first time I had a trail to follow after. I saw a slight furrow in the ground as if something big was dragged around, and here and there inside it, a strangely shaped clawed footprint.