บท 143: Seeking A Cure
"Is that the one we've been looking for, the werewolf that's going to lead us to the village hidden in the snow?"
Drowning among the crowd of blue giants, the party of four wearing winter clothing stuck out as they watched at the sidelines. The obviousness to Telmano's question made Marionne chuckle.
"You see any other werewolves around here? You just answered your own question."
The centaur groaned, "Shut the fuck up or I'm going to kick you off my back."
Taking it as a challenge, Marionne hunkered down, grabbing Telmano's black coat as a makeshift reins.
"Go ahead, man-horse, I'd like to see you try."
"Both of you, stop acting like children!" Althea chided, once both ceased their antics, she turned to the shivering gorgon that held her hand. "Yaz, are you okay, do you want me to take you back to the inn?"
Even with a coat that was embroidered with arcane, insulating heat similar to a sunny day, the viciousness of the arctic's -70 degrees attacked her uncovered parts. Her snakes all dropped to the insides of her coat, while her massive tail was being bitten by the cold.
"N-no…we're so close in finding this cure of yours, I can endure, my love." Yazmin emitted a weak hiss from under her mask.
Hoping to ease the suffering of her lover even just for a bit, Althea gripped her lover's hand tight. Maybe she should have pushed back more on her lover's insistence to tag along? Curing her affliction won't matter if Yazmin perishes in the process.
As the brutal exchange of blows continued below the pit, Farboti slipped through the werewolf's guard and continued his barrage of fists onto the werewolf's body.
The speed and precision of his punches was nothing like Bryn had ever encountered before, she was truly up against a retired legend. A worthy adversary to Bryn's rited name, fist-and-claw, for within their clan, she was unmatched in both.
The moment Farboti launched a left straight, Bryn timed her counter, unleashing her right fist that slid beside Farboti's arm to veer it and deliver a straight into his bearded mug. The booming punch staggered the frost giant, he tried to get up but his knees were unwilling. Farboti collapsed onto the cold hard floor, and by the pit's rules, handing Bryn the victory. Ah, such a shame, a devastating punch like that was something he could shrug off back in his hayday.
"AAAAND THE WINNER AND STILL REIGNING CHAMPION, BRYNHILDR FIST-AND-CLAW!!"
The crowd's cheering bearing down on him, Farboti witnessed the werewolf's silhouette above him, offering her hand. The frost giant smirked, taking the wolf's hand.
"Good fight there, lass. Had I been a few millennia younger, I could have given you a run for your title!" Farboti boasted a hearty laugh. To which the werewolf produced a gleeful snarl. "Oh, right, you lot cannot speak in your guardian form. My bad."
While the crowd was going wild after Farboti's exit, Gliah jumped down, selfishly putting her cloak to her friend. Bryn shrunk, reverting back into her blonde human form, she squeezed Gliah's cloak so tight as it's the only thing preventing the crowd from seeing her everything.
"There's a bunch of outsiders looking for you, bryn." Gliah said.
"Who?"
"Said they were from Elaria, they want a word with your chief."
Bryn was impressed. They came a long way from home. Should she at least hear them out? Why not? They do not often get visitors, Vanagrad was not exactly friendly to races who cannot accept its cold embrace. Only frost giants, their werewolf clan, and cold immune monsters thrived in this place.
"I'm going to report to father about today's event, are you coming with?" Gliah questioned as they walked towards the exit.
"Nah, I think I'll entertain the outsiders, let me borrow the Jarl's chamber for a bit."
"Shit, throw a party in there if you want." Gliah chuckled. "Just don't forget to invite me."
While the two parted ways, Gliah changed into the extra tribal skirt and vest that she brought, asking a favor for the guards to take the visitors into the Jarl's personal chamber right after.
The Jar's skull trophies adorned the walls behind his throne. Skulls of Mammoths, Yeti, Rocs, and other winter monsters worthy of the hunt.
With no guards in the chamber, a testament to how close Gliah and Bryn's friendship is, Bryn sat on the throne as she addressed the four adventurers before her.
"So, why do you all want to talk with the chief?"
Althea walked forward, explaining the affliction in her soul, how she is in dire need of the shaman's help to stabilize both her body and spirit.
"Ooh, that's a tough one. Father always warned me not to mess with reincarnation magic." Bryn remarked, hinting a bit of sympathy for the spellblade. "I want to help but I can't just take you straight into the clan."
Next, it was Yazmin that slithered forward, "I beg of you, let us see your chief. We seek no quarrel but only a cure."
It was the first time Bryn had seen a gorgon. The way her upper-half human melds with the lower-half of a gigantic snake to form one curvy body, such an enthralling creature. Be that as may, Bryn was confused. Vanagrad was not exactly a place that snakes could thrive, its cold was even hostile to them. Byrn had to admire this gorgon's resolve. Add to that, the centaur and wood elf looked amusing. Bryn wanted to call upon Gliah so she could drink with these outsiders and listen to their tales.
"It's not that simple, if father…wait a minute." The roc hunting, it was for them! Bryn realized that she hunted them to be served as a feast. Her cryptic father is such an idiot, why couldn't he have just forewarned her of these visitors!? "Scratch that, follow me, I'll take you to the clan."
With that, the party ventured forth into Bryn's clan.
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