The Fanged Hunter by Seneschal the World Builder | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil
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The Spawn

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After resting at the tavern for the night, it took Gallus three days to journey northward. He was lucky that it only took that long with how many trails and paths were covered in snow. It made sense why so few people would brave this journey in the winter. Which only bothered Gallus more as he wondered how many people were preyed upon due to this.

The fog rolled in by noon of the second day, obscuring his vision. While not a thick fog, it was enough to make the dhampir see things out the corner of his eye or in the distance that weren’t actually there. It led to moments of paranoia such as when he jammed his spear into a tree, thinking it was moving. An unhappy dryad ran him off.

It was the third day when the sun’s light finally dimmed, marking how close he was to his destination. He was forced to light a torch when the clouds covered the already dim sun, casting orange light to chase away the darkness.

On the fourth day, he arrived at a village painted white by snow with its fields covered by a day's worth of snow. Gallus walked to the center where the well was, hearing nothing but the low howling of the wind and the soft crunch of snow underneath his boots.

No movement… He thought, expecting at least one person to glance at the stranger in their village. But there was nothing. On top of that, there were no footprints. If villagers left their homes to work or to play in the snow, there should be signs of life. Let’s check for sure. Gallus walked up to the first house on his left and knocked on the door. All he received was silence in return. Another house and the same response.

A third house and the door opened when he knocked this time. He was greeted to an empty home as he entered. However, it wasn’t cleaned. Plates with both eaten and uneaten food were left on the dining table. He put a hand over the food and felt the faint warmth. Prepared recently. It would long since cooled in this weather otherwise, he surmised. 

Gallus returned to the entrance, giving one more glance around the abandoned house before heading back into the cold. He checked another house and once again, it looked as if people lived there recently. He even found small toys near the door, kneeling down and picking one up.

It was a horse carved out of wood, an animal common in the valley if he recalled. He ran his thumb over the mane, made from real horse hair, and frowned under his mask. He hoped that the owner or the maker was still alive.

He set the toy back down gently and was about to head back out when he saw movement out the corner of his eye. Gallus rushed to the back of the house but found no one, not even any footprints. He would've investigated further if not for a metallic smell. A very metallic smell.

He followed it to the edge of the village where it met the forest. The smell only got stronger as he found the source. A deep hole with pale corpses lightly covered by a blanket of snow. His vision went red and instead of the crimson rivers that flowed in bodies, he saw nothing but a black void. A horrifying display to normal adventurers. But sloppy to him.

“Is this how you mean to frighten me?” He asked. “Clearly you’re not my target in that case. No true vampire would think this frightens what would hunt them.” He motioned to the hole as he looked around. “So what are you truly? Or will you continue to skulk in the shadows and fail yet again to--”

Gallus’s eyes snapped to a nearby tree when he heard the scrapping of claws against it. Said claws flew over his head as he crouched. Gritting his teeth, he squeezed his spear with both hands and swung as hard as he could. The crackle of lightning and the boom of thunder filled the air as the rune covered shaft slammed into the assailant’s side.

Both parties slid back from the blow. When the snow settled, the dhampir had a good look at his attacker. A woman, black of hair with pale grey skin and red eyes burning with hunger. Another victim of his target.

“A spawn.” He commented as the spawn rose to her feet, baring her fangs at him. “That explains the paltry attempt at terrorizing me.”

She snarled at him, raising her claws in an aggressive stance. “It brought you to me and that is all that matters for my master.” She let out a shrill scream before charging at him.

Her attacks were feral and aggressive but imprecise. He kept his distance, thrusting and swinging his spear to keep her at bay. She grabbed his weapon and tried to tear his throat out with her bloody maw. In response, he used their momentum to throw her into the pit.

“Your flailing screams novice.” He commented, taking several breaths. “You were recently turned then. Because clearly your master hasn’t taught you the true power you can wield.”

His comments hit a nerve as the spawn glared at him. She tore off limbs from the corpses and threw them at him. Gallus scoffed as he knocked them aside before a torso forced him to move out the way. When he looked back, the spawn was already half-way out of the pit.

He stabbed at her but she used the ledge to launch herself into the air. Her leg shot up in the air before she brought her heel down on top of him. Gallus blocked and snow on the ground flew into the air after the clash.

She was fast, making another attack in the blink of an eye, but not fast enough. Even going this long without blood, he knew he had the advantage over her. And she realized the same when he threw her against a tree. Lighting sparked from his weapon before he threw it. She ducked at the last moment, barely dodging the spear which was embedded where her chest would be.

Gallus charged at her and she bit her tongue before blowing a large cloud of blood mist right into his face. He gasped, covering his mouth and nose as he stumbled backwards. His head was swimming and his mouth watered at the taste. If the spawn was smart, it would attack him now.

But the attack never came as the mist cleared. Gallus fell to his knees and took deep breaths. He focused on the cold snow beneath his fingers. On the biting wind that blew in the air. And the crackling of lighting nearby. Only when the bloodlust vanished did he raise his head.

The spawn was gone, leaving no trail except claw marks in one of the trees. He rose to his feet and walked over to the tree. He ripped his spear out of it and looked around. He frowned as his eyes fell on the pit.

“Master von Carn, guide these souls to their proper resting place.” He muttered, resting a hand over his heart.

He looked back towards the claw marks on the tree and ran his fingers over them. The claw marks went all the way up the tree to one of the thicker branches. And said branch had less snow on it than other branches. As did a branch on a tree farther away.

Gallus couldn’t help but smirk but he quickly shut down what amusement he found. Enjoyment of this was not acceptable. The young dhampir followed the trail left behind. He was focused on the tracks until he heard wolves howling.

Too far away to be a threat. Probably looking for food.

Several minutes later, he heard howling again, this time closer than before.

Okay… either their prey’s getting closer to me… or--

His head snapped to a howl only a short distance away.  Red eyes met brown eyes. Not just a single pair. An abnormally large pack  surrounded him, 8 of them growled and circled around him. Gallus pressed his back against the tree, looking at the beasts.

He tried to scare them off with electricity from his spear but none of them were affected. Left with little choice, Gallus scrambled up the tree. A wolf jumped up and snagged onto his cloak, nearly dragging him back down before it fell off his shoulders.

He took a deep breath as he sat on one of the branches, looking down at the wolves all circling the tree. He gave a deep sigh, glaring at them.

Wonderful.

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