River Guardian [Complete]
Posted: August 7th, 2019, 1:50 am
Harroc loped freely through the thick undergrowth, his soft paws thumping a slow but relentless rhythm on the forest floor. He'd been running since before the dawn in pursuit of a new, and possibly dangerous, beast. He'd heard its keening cry in the grey pre-dawn, and felt its scent on the gentle morning breeze. It was almost a compulsion, drilled into him over decades, to know the woods he roamed as his hunting grounds.
His eyes noticed a change in the brush a moment before he broke into a wide sunlit clearing. With all the dexterity of his wolfen form, the Druid slid to a halt amid the lightly trampled grass. Harroc tossed his head to check for nearby threats with his eyes before lifting his snout to the wind. The scent was still there, still to his north, and still growing stronger as he went. All signs he was approaching his quarry. With a wolfish grin, he built up speed before dashing back through a thicket and into his pursuit.
Before long he came across a stream, one of the many he knew would feed into the great Ordinuad River. Yet the stream's banks were dry and the waters barely a trickle across the loamy soil. Harroc slowed his pace as worry began to creep into his thoughts. The waters were vital to the lush vegetation and prolific wildlife of the area. Then a keening screech broke his concentration, followed by a short and powerful bark.
Harroc knew those sound, they were the call and warning shout of a large elk. His eyes darted around, his ears swiveled wildly, and his nose took heaping gulps of air as he searched for the now on guard animal. He smelled something, and close, but all he heard was the rush of water splashing against rocks. He started to turn his ears more slowly, honing in what he was beginning to suspect was not the sound of a river at all. All the while his nose worked to pick out the offending scent. The smells nearby indicated a predator, but no prey. Which didn't at all fit with what he expected from the elk wails still echoing in the trees.
After several inwardly frantic moments of searching the Druid decided he was outmatched. With a short leap he shifted his form, exploding and then collapsing in a burst of leaves and green pulsing light. Where the wolf had been now stood a man, green of eye and sandy of skin. He was clad in armor of leather and hardened wood clasped with bone. He held a gnarled staff adorned with feathers and a short hafted spear sat high on his shoulders.
Harroc dropped to a knee and shook his shoulders as he adjusted to the lingering changes to his senses and balance. There was always that moment of weightlessness when he changed his form. There was another shriek of an elk in the near distance and the Druid focused his thoughts again. He'd seen a flash of something up the rise ahead when he was shifting, but it was hidden by his crouch. With a careful step, he crept forward to the side of a large tree at the crest of the rise.
Peeking around his cover he had to blink in surprise as the sunlight reflected off a brilliant blue stream filled near to bursting. Harroc's eyes darted around the still waters until they landed on a large blue elk. There at the edge of the gully stood a translucent, but still very majestic, elk. The elk, seemingly unaware of its observer, glanced around before slamming its horns into a large log that lay across the stream. The log, clearly a recently felled tree given its still partially submerged roots and lack of decay, refused to even acknowledge the elk's effort.
Harroc studied the creature closely as it continued futilely crashing into the obstruction. The elk's body appeared to be made of flowing clear water, but it's stomach and neck seemed to contain undulating clumps of water wisteria. The horns, large and imposing, glistened like damp river rock. The Druid frowned at the creature, it was if someone had taken a section of the river and simply poured it into a mold.
Harroc was a Druid-Shapeshifter, and so striving to understand the wiles of nature was something ingrained in his every action. Every beast spoke a language and he'd not encountered one he didn't understand. This creature though, it was like listening to the babbling of a child. The words, or at least the meaning of the cries, came in starts and stops as if only understood for their sound. Harroc was certain this was not a beast, even those taken by sickness kept some reason.
He was also more, he was a half-elemental, and the magic of the earth the lived deep inside of him hummed as he looked over the creature. It was not made of the earth, but it held similar patterns. The longer he watched the more he could follow the threads of power that ran through the elk's form. They writhed in the chest, pulsed along the horns, and dipped into the water through the legs. It was a creature truly of the water, not only made of the materials but infused with the magic.
His eyes noticed a change in the brush a moment before he broke into a wide sunlit clearing. With all the dexterity of his wolfen form, the Druid slid to a halt amid the lightly trampled grass. Harroc tossed his head to check for nearby threats with his eyes before lifting his snout to the wind. The scent was still there, still to his north, and still growing stronger as he went. All signs he was approaching his quarry. With a wolfish grin, he built up speed before dashing back through a thicket and into his pursuit.
Before long he came across a stream, one of the many he knew would feed into the great Ordinuad River. Yet the stream's banks were dry and the waters barely a trickle across the loamy soil. Harroc slowed his pace as worry began to creep into his thoughts. The waters were vital to the lush vegetation and prolific wildlife of the area. Then a keening screech broke his concentration, followed by a short and powerful bark.
Harroc knew those sound, they were the call and warning shout of a large elk. His eyes darted around, his ears swiveled wildly, and his nose took heaping gulps of air as he searched for the now on guard animal. He smelled something, and close, but all he heard was the rush of water splashing against rocks. He started to turn his ears more slowly, honing in what he was beginning to suspect was not the sound of a river at all. All the while his nose worked to pick out the offending scent. The smells nearby indicated a predator, but no prey. Which didn't at all fit with what he expected from the elk wails still echoing in the trees.
After several inwardly frantic moments of searching the Druid decided he was outmatched. With a short leap he shifted his form, exploding and then collapsing in a burst of leaves and green pulsing light. Where the wolf had been now stood a man, green of eye and sandy of skin. He was clad in armor of leather and hardened wood clasped with bone. He held a gnarled staff adorned with feathers and a short hafted spear sat high on his shoulders.
Harroc dropped to a knee and shook his shoulders as he adjusted to the lingering changes to his senses and balance. There was always that moment of weightlessness when he changed his form. There was another shriek of an elk in the near distance and the Druid focused his thoughts again. He'd seen a flash of something up the rise ahead when he was shifting, but it was hidden by his crouch. With a careful step, he crept forward to the side of a large tree at the crest of the rise.
Peeking around his cover he had to blink in surprise as the sunlight reflected off a brilliant blue stream filled near to bursting. Harroc's eyes darted around the still waters until they landed on a large blue elk. There at the edge of the gully stood a translucent, but still very majestic, elk. The elk, seemingly unaware of its observer, glanced around before slamming its horns into a large log that lay across the stream. The log, clearly a recently felled tree given its still partially submerged roots and lack of decay, refused to even acknowledge the elk's effort.
Harroc studied the creature closely as it continued futilely crashing into the obstruction. The elk's body appeared to be made of flowing clear water, but it's stomach and neck seemed to contain undulating clumps of water wisteria. The horns, large and imposing, glistened like damp river rock. The Druid frowned at the creature, it was if someone had taken a section of the river and simply poured it into a mold.
Harroc was a Druid-Shapeshifter, and so striving to understand the wiles of nature was something ingrained in his every action. Every beast spoke a language and he'd not encountered one he didn't understand. This creature though, it was like listening to the babbling of a child. The words, or at least the meaning of the cries, came in starts and stops as if only understood for their sound. Harroc was certain this was not a beast, even those taken by sickness kept some reason.
He was also more, he was a half-elemental, and the magic of the earth the lived deep inside of him hummed as he looked over the creature. It was not made of the earth, but it held similar patterns. The longer he watched the more he could follow the threads of power that ran through the elk's form. They writhed in the chest, pulsed along the horns, and dipped into the water through the legs. It was a creature truly of the water, not only made of the materials but infused with the magic.