OOM: Elysium or Shephard's quest for an arm.

[brave_kreyu]

Even before the Combine came, Shephard's world had few places left that had never known the touch of men. This forest has no name, for no tribe of wanderers has ever dared to settle here, to harvest the mighty oaks that tower far above his head.

It is nearly noon on Midsummer's day, but little light reaches Shephard and Kreyu down here on the forest floor. The only thing of note in the clearing is a large ring of mushrooms, a formation sometimes called a faerie ring.

Comments

[hecu_marine]

"Whatever you say, sir," says Shephard, and, "Thank you."

The whole lot of it smells good, and Shephard- no offense to Kreyu's rabbits this morning- is hungry. He does, however, glance hearthward first. "Is it okay if I give him some of mine, sir?" he asks. "Been a while since I've seen a proper dog, 'n they remind me of home growin' up."

You don't hunt on another man's property without asking him first, and you don't screw around with another man's dog without asking the rules. What's okay by some owners is forbidden as hell by others.

[brave_kreyu]

"You may," the Smith replies with a nod. "I'm sure Duir will gladly take it as his due." Duir's tail thumps against the stone.

The food is good, really good. Their will be some polite conversation during the meal, but no business until they are finished.

"Unless I am much mistaken," he says at last, "you have sought my skill to replace what was taken from you in War."

[hecu_marine]

Shephard nods, and sets aside about a third of his stew. The bread he's keeping to himself. That's damn good bread.

When it's all over he pushes his dish away some and nods. "Yes, sir," he says. "Not that there ain't plenty of ways of makin' do without what I used to have, but I'd be a fair little bit more effective of a Marine if I had two proper hands again than I would if I was just makin' do with the one."

[brave_kreyu]

"I can give you what you need," the smith begins, "but I must ask a task of you in return."

"There is a great sow, a giant boar, that has plagued these lands for many months. She is far more cunning than a beast ought to be and possesses malice such as I have never seen. My kin have hunted her many times, but she is wise to our ways and lies low whenever we have sought her in the hunt."

"The ruin to our crops would be ill enough, but she has taken to attacking lone travelers, even children. A fortnight past she would have slain my brother's youngest boy as he walked up the path to his father's house from the well. His hounds Coll and Beth laid down their lives to buy him time to escape the beast."

"It is my hope that one man and a dog may succeed where many have failed. Slay the beast and bring me her hide and I shall give my utmost to your task."

[hecu_marine]

Well.

This is about up there with putting forward massive collateral for a loan: prove you don't need what you're asking for, and you'll get it.

Oh, well. Shephard hasn't come this far just to give up now; he nods. "Will do, sir," he says. "I got a time limit on this?"

[brave_kreyu]

"I would prefer the beast ended as soon as possible, but I will set no limit as to time," the Smith replies. "Duir will go with you, to help you find the beast and get you there and safely back again."

His expression is grim. "I suspect that should you wander these woods, she will find you readily enough." Yay?

Kreyu starts to protest, but the Smith shakes his head. "I know you would aid him Shadow Spinner, but it must be his skill and his courage that is tested to earn such a boon among my people."

[hecu_marine]

"You've already done plenty, ma'am," Shephard says to Kreyu. "This here's the part where I go about payin' my dues. The sooner the better, frankly."

It's not like waiting is going to make this trip any easier.

[brave_kreyu]

"There is yet light enough left, should you wish to seek the beast today," the Smith adds as he picks up the cups and plates.

Kreyu doesn't look terribly happy about letting him go off on his own after that thing, but she nods in acceptance.

[hecu_marine]

Shephard considers this. Then he nods. "Might as well," he says, and in an undertone adds, "just so long's I git to use the necessary first."

Not for the obvious. He's gonna need to scrub his face and psych himself up in the mirror before going after that she-pig.

[brave_kreyu]

Does an outdoor privy and a water basin count?

Duir takes this time to get a last few minutes of resting in front of the fireplace in.

[hecu_marine]

They'll do. They'll do just fine.

He wonders, a little, if Tony Cascarella survived the Combine invasion. The man was the undisputed king of knife-hunting wild pig; in '76, he killed a 275-pound dog-killing hog in Florida with no more and no less than three throwing knives. Might not be a Pope and Young record, but shit, you've got to respect a man like that. Especially if you're gonna set out on a hunt like this one...

Well, he'll do the man proud, at least. A knife hunt's a knife hunt even if you don't ever throw your blade, only stab with it. Time to head back in.

"'m ready," he says as he picks up the shield and starts somewhat awkwardly buckling it back on.

[brave_kreyu]

If he looks like he could use the help, Kreyu will assist him in getting the shield back on. "Good hunting," she says with a smile. The Smith nods in agreement.

"These woods are no place for a hunter at night," he warns. "We will look for you at dark, if you do not return before the light has gone."

Duir stands, gives himself a shake, and trots over to Shephard.

[hecu_marine]

"Ain't gon' be a problem," says Shephard with a crooked grin. This is more of a beast than he's ever hunted at close range before, and it's a damn dangerous one by any stretch of the imagination, but he's got a reputation to maintain. "C'mon, now, Duir. You ready? We got us some pork to sniff out."

[brave_kreyu]

Duir woofs something that sounds like an affirmative and trots off, leading the way. They pass between those gigantic oak trees again, their leaves turned brilliant autumn colors.

Leaves crackle underfoot and acorns crunch under his boots. As they go deeper into the trees, Duir pauses from time to time to sniff certain places on the ground.

[hecu_marine]

He's watching the dog, some, and listening, some, and darting his attention around this way and that. This is a forest, even if it's not one of Earth, and when a big thing moves in it the little life knows.

Or the dog points the way. Either one. He'll find it, and he'll follow.

[brave_kreyu]

In the end, it's a bit of both. The two of them reach a small clearing surrounded by brush when the dog stops and stands stiff legged, hackles raised. Then, he starts to growl low in his throat.

Something BIG is moving through the brush. A moment later, there is a horrifically loud squeal of challenge as the monstrous boar tears through the brush.

Ye gods, it's HOGZILLA! A normal boar can weigh more than 200lbs, but she's far larger, massing about twice what Shephard does.

[hecu_marine]

"Jesus fuck-"

Shephard dives and rolls out of the way fast as he can. "Git that fucker turned!" he shouts to Duir. "I got to git her in the back 'fore I c'n git her in the throat!"

There's not going to be any knives thrown today, but if he can get a good stab or two in on top it'll slow her some. He's going to need that if he's going to have a prayer of shoving the pig down and getting a proper stab in for the kill.

[brave_kreyu]

Duir is hard at work almost before he can finish the command, lunging at the boar's heels. His jaws rip only a shallow gash in the enormous sow's hind legs, but it causes her to squeal in pain and rage and turn her back to Shephard.

Duir leaps back, only just avoiding being gutted by her tusks as she tosses her head in an attempt to gore him.

[hecu_marine]

If he had two knives Shephard would throw one, but what he's got is a sword and a sharp bit of stone and neither of them is balanced for throwing. The shield would be better for throwing, frankly.

On the other hand, a pig that's trying to gore is a pig that's quartering away from him. That means that a man who's lived most of his life by having a fast hand and eye can dart up to her and thrust the bronze blade between two of the ribs. It won't reach the lungs, not if he wants it back before she turns- but a wound's a wound, especially that close to the spine.

[brave_kreyu]

The sow screams in agony as the blade of Achilles slides between her ribs. She wheels on her tormenter, but she's slower than she was before. Even so, he'd best move quickly if he doesn't want her to rip his leg open with those tusks.

Duir leaps in again, aiming for the sow's underbelly and drawing blood. The sow starts to turn again, unable to decide which of them to gore horribly first.

[hecu_marine]

He's already missing an arm. He doesn't need to be missing a leg, or a chance to contribute to the gene pool.

But he doesn't like to miss an opportunity, and the monstrous pig is unsteady on her feet, so rather than flinch away he shoves with his shield-arm, hard as he can, aiming to force her off her feet for a proper strike.

[brave_kreyu]

Between the dog's attack and his shove with the shield, the sow goes over sideways with an outraged squeal. For a few precious moments, her belly is exposed and she's off of her feet.

Time to end this.

[hecu_marine]

Achilles' sword was forged with the intent of a demigod stabbing an ordinary man to death through a massive bronze and leather breastplate, then stalking off to do it over and over again.

The positions are a bit reversed, with the figure of legend and myth bearing in-born armor of bone and hide; but in the end it's all the same. In the hands of a man who's cut more beasts down for skin and meat than he can even begin to remember, the sword knows exactly where it has to go.

[brave_kreyu]

The sword slides home and the boar still struggles, trying to gore him even in her death throes.

But she is too weak for her tusks to find their mark and she struggles less and less until at last the life goes out of her.

[hecu_marine]

Shephard's just gonna pant for a while, because that was hard and nerve-wracking. Also, he's only really got one hand to lean against his own knees with; the other arm isn't good for bracing himself right now. Then he's gonna look up.

"Duir? Duir, boy, you okay?"