Sunday, July 17, 2005

Boneswulf...Part 3

We spent the next several hours discussing all of the available information on the Grendel-thing and its potential mother/companion that was suspected to be present as well. I pulled up the recorded images I had downloaded onto my iMac and after those were viewed and reviewed and view again, I led everyone into the back of the motorhome and tried to demonstrate some of the moves the creature had displayed. I alternated using Herne and Fang as the ‘dummy’ creature in recreating some of the scenario, in part so that the other could watch some and also in part to get a true feeling for their individual strengths. I also wanted each of them experience my strength so that they could have a better understanding of this creature’s strength. Combined with its sheer speed and the vicious claws and jaws, it was going to be a very dangerous opponent.

I found that both Fang and Herne were stronger than they looked and had better trained reflexes and hand to hand combat skills than most athletic men. But I was still very concerned. A part of me didn’t want any of these people down there with me, I would feel so responsible if they were grievously injured, or worse yet, killed.

Fang alleviated some of my fears when he offered to spar with me, one on one. He was an expert in several forms of martial arts and demonstrated an amazing ability to escape my punches and blows. For the most part he was able to land blow after blow on me, but with my much heavier frame and reinforced skeleton, he was unable to land any disabling blows. So many of his various forms were designed to impact nerve centers and to otherwise incapacitate living opponents who could feel pain. The contest was ended rather abruptly when I allowed him to make a leaping kick where he landed two solid blows, one to my head, another to my chest. Once he was fully committed to the attack I grabbed the foot that hit me in the head and held in place with one hand and reached out with the other hand, landing a glancing blow to his ‘nads. He fell to a gasping heap on the floor as I stepped over him and grabbed his neck, lifting him off the floor with one hand.

“This creature doesn’t have the same weak points as a human. I don’t think it feels pain any more than I do. You would be dead right now, if you were facing it alone.”

Fang nodded as I put him down. He hid his obvious pain and embarassment very well, bowed to show he respected the lesson and took a seat.

“Are you done flaunting that testosterone that you claim not have anymore Mr. He-Man Zombie?” Ravyn was not so impressed.

“Look Ravyn, I’ve fought beside Herne and you before, I know what you can do. I needed to know what Fang was capable of, and I think he needed to know for his own good what it was like to face an opponent that was virtually unstoppable. Am I right Fang?”

He nodded, still flushed from our sparring, “Dude, no worries there. I appreciate and shared your concerns. I had read about you, but it was good to find out first hand what I am up against. I also have some skills I didn’t bring to bear that will be very useful. I didn’t think it was appropriate to use any of my Chi powers in the sparring match.”

“That’s all very well and good gentlemen,” said Ravyn, looking rather perturbed that Fang had agreed with me, “but I don’t think we’ll destroy these creatures with your punches or kicks. Herne, can you get the case that Moira sent with us?”

Herne nodded, left to get the case, and returned very soon with a long black suitcase that looked large enough to hold a rifle.

He brought the case into the room, placed it on the floor and then muttered some Celtic sounding words over the locks before reaching to the now glowing locks and clicking them open. He carefully openned the lid to reveal four long, sheathed daggers that were so black in color that the light seemed to grow dimmer right around them. There was a definite feeling of deep, dark magick about these blades.

Herne reached into the cushioned case and pulled out one of the still sheathed daggers. I could see Ravyn almost shiver as the dagger was brought out into the full light.

“What’s up with these things?” I asked as I reached towards one of the other blades.

Herrne stopped me from touching it, but brought the sheathed one in its hand closer to me to see better. “These blades are exceptionally dangerous. Don’t try to unsheath any of them until you are prepared to use it in battle. These are the last four Witchbane blades known to exist.”

“Witchbane blades?”

“Yes,” he continued, “there were originally thirteen of these blades created by some very talented and very twisted men during the Spanish Inquisition, the Burning Times. They were conceived and commissioned by a powerful Arch Bishop in order for his men to be able to face and slay powerful Casters. These blades will cut through any and all known spells, wards, or protections raised by any Caster, and should be able to put this Grendel thing out of its misery rather easily.”

“Why can’t we unsheath them then?”

“These blades are evil. Once they are drawn from their protective sheath, it is literally impossible to sheath them again until they have drawn the blood and life energies of a Caster or magickal creature. If you try to sheath one of them without quenching its thirst, it will pull the life energy right out of its wielder through the hilt. When we recovered the fourth blade, it was from some poor soul who thought those were just stories. I sheathed the blade while it was still in his cold, dead grasp.”

“I see. So what’s the plan with these things then?”

“Well, you, Fang and I will each carry one of the blades down there with us. Once we locate the beast and its mother, we’ll use these blades on them to cut through the protective spells that prevent most weapons from harming them.”

I looked over at Ravyn, “Aren’t you going to carry one as well?”

She shuddered visibly. “No. I won’t touch one of those cursed things.”

“But what if they get to you, you won’t have a weapon that can hurt them.”

“You worry about keeping your own damn hide intact. I can take care of myself. Always have, always will. Besides, you’ll need my brains around since you are all so impaired by that terminal condition known as manhood.”