The
Nighen, an unnatural creature spawned of evil, consumed and murdered all along
the western providence for the weeks after the emergence of Chaos. Its appetite
had grown astronomically since its birth.
The
blood moon of Chaos drove it forward.
Swollen
clouds drifted lazily overhead. Bruised and disfigured skies threatened to
drench the land in rain and storm, something in which the slowly-aging hills
would find great comfort. The mixture of deep shadow and moonlight allowed the
cloaked figure to move through the dense forest unnoticed––his hood wrapped
tightly and his decadent robes drifting out behind him.
He
hummed quietly. Along his back was the outline of a sheath, the blade hidden.
The moon made a kaleidoscope of images across the paths of the forest, and the
man moved through them. His figure melded and conformed to the bizarre shapes.
His features were hidden beneath the hood, the bitter winds that periodically
slapped against his frame could not loosen the bond the cloak held over
him.
The
forest around him shifted in the winds. Branches scraped against one another.
The gales howled, creating sounds in the night far more morose than the ones
that truly haunted the rich shrubbery. The man did not hesitate as he walked,
not even when the unnatural sounds of forest silenced and the low, throaty growl
of a night terror emanated from beside him.
Amber
eyes were translucent in the darkness. The lack of iris was eerie as if shifted,
watching the man move past its vantage point. The creature groaned loudly and
stood. Scaly claws dug deep into the already-frozen earth as it moved forward in
leaps. It hit hard upon the ground, shaking the earth as it rose from a
crouch.
The
man’s pace quickened now. He moved with renewed speed, head lowered. The blade
upon his back protruded from his hunched frame like a sore that had grown from
his spine.
The
creature moved alongside him, the crashing sounds as it charged through the
forest thunderous. The man threw back the tight folds of his cloak and moved
with the grace of a practiced runner. His shoulder-length hair emerged from
beneath the hood, cascading off his back.
The
creature ran on all four limbs, end over end like a feral animal. Its breathing
was ragged and intense. Cold air exhaled from his nostrils as it charged after
the dexterous man dodging through the forest.
He
jumped over a dislodged collection of roots, and then spun past a tree that
stood directly in his path as he landed. The creature just slammed its gigantic
horned frame into the trees, splintering the wood and knocking them from its
path.
The
forest ended abruptly. The thick mass of roots and trees disappeared from sight.
The sheet of grass, stained brown, extended for a few feet until it ended in a
monumental plunge to the canyons and plains below. The man skidded to a stop and
threw back his cloak, drawing his blade from around his back.
The
hilt of the sword was cast in ivory––the pearly construction was crafted like a
dragon’s head. Its guard was formed of the beast’s hellish wings, the spiraling,
sinewy protrusions spreading symmetrically on each side.
His
brown hair was thrown across his face, hiding his cold blue eyes buried behind
sleep-deprived circles. A beard carved his jaw line, his lips drawn tight in
apprehension. The winds tore at his frame, the fold of his cloak whipping like
tendrils in the cold gales.
The
creature emerged from the forest and rolled to a stop, rising on its hunches and
glaring at the man. It opened its maw, licking at exposed, rotten teeth. Black,
soulless eyes were obscured in the darkness. It tilted its head and made a thin
sound, like a bird chirping.
“Man
flesh,” spoke the creature.
The
words were guttural and strangled.
The
man looked at the creature, its shoulders rising far above him. Grayish skin
covered its entire body juxtaposed with black, spiked scales. Its arms were long
like an ape. Claws were sharpened into half the length of the sword the man
wielded.
“Not
much for conversation, are you?” the warrior spoke breathlessly.
“Kill.
Eat. Man flesh,” growled the creature once again. The creature took a few steps
forward.
The
warrior turned his blade out and it glistened in the half light of the moon. The
flash captured the soulless sockets of the creature. His feet parted slightly,
rooting him as he prepared to lunge. In one motion, he leapt forward. The point
of his blade sung through the air as he did so.
The
creature roared. Swinging one of its massive claws across the front of its
frame, it tried to catch the man mid-flight as he descended. The man shifted in
mid-air, his body tightening and then rolling to the ground. His blade was
tucked tight with his body and as he landed; he lunged forward. Catching the
creature across its mammoth legs, the creature howled in pain as it reached down
to block the strike.
It
glowered at the man as he returned to his stance. His blade was held across his
chest at an angle, eyes set firmly at the throat of the beast. They circled each
other, the beast snarling and sputtering as its green puss oozed from the wound
and covered its leg.
It
burned the earth beneath them.
The
creature roared––its mouth agape, saliva glistening as it strung from fang to
fang. Its stale breath was like a fog from its mouth. The man moved forward
again, the blade slamming into the flank of the creature. Blood splattered
across his cloak and the stricken ground.
He
turned as he remained crouched beneath the haunches of the beast and drove his
blade through its chin. The creature groaned as the crack of the splintered
skull echoed in the hills. Sliding down as the man pulled his blade free, it was
no more. The creature’s face was a macabre death mask.
The
warrior stood over his prey.
The
lifeless eyes of the beast were listless, departed. He raised his blade and
decapitated the creature in one smooth movement. Reaching down, he grasped his
prize: the head of the Nighen.
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