[Great Hunt] The Pyre of the North

For the second time in a series of a few short months, Arianwyn found herself staring down a monster; a foe so vast in its size and power that even she, a young mage who dreamed her whole life of fighting monsters, found herself stunned at the sheer futility of the situation. What was one mage with a blood disorder and a small pile of silver supposed to do against a towering, flaming skeleton beast? The last monster, the Cursed Crone, had nearly killed her time and time again. Moreover, her hesitation, her weakness in the fight gave the corrupted mage an opportunity to destroy a small town, and the livelihoods and homesteads of the people who lived there. While Arianwyn managed to help defeat it in the end as other mages arrived at the battlefield, it had been a narrow win at best. Now, it was happening all over again, it seemed that Arianwyn was alone once again. The townspeople around her were bravely risking their lives to fight a fire that threatened the nearby orchards; but their bucket brigade was no match for the blazing flames of the beast itself. She could not ask them to risk their lives to help her, either. No—as a representative of Namarast and member of the Mage Order, it was once again up to her to protect the lands of Ivras and fend of the Pyre of the North. With or without help, she simply had to be up to the task.

"Keep the buckets and find shovels. Get everyone who can digging a trench on the north side of town." Arianwyn found herself giving orders, tearing her eyes away from the great tusked beast in the distance to look at the situation around her. The townspeople needed to protect their land, and anything she could do to help organize the situation could only help. She hated to give up the buckets—the silver ore she had used to fashion them was much of what she had brought with her, and, as she was heading into battle, she could use all that she could muster. Yet, she could see the way the people clung to them; the only defense they had in the moment to stop the flaming homestead from lighting the dried fields beside it ablaze. She couldn't rip that from them. "I'll try to lead the monster away from town and give you time to build a fire trench."

 There was so little hope Arianwyn could offer in this moment, so little she could really do. A beast fashioned of flame and heat would burn the town if it so chose to do so; should it decide to simply walk down the main street, there would be no stopping the roofs of the buildings from catching alight. Should it flap its wings in an orchard, the fields would burn until they were barren, and the town may not be able to grow its silkberries in the next season. Her best effort would be for nothing should the Pyre simply wander in their direction, and yet she knew their effort was worth it. The town couldn't simply stand by and watch their lives burn away without some action to take, some sense of hope. Still, she saw that at least some did not believe her promise. Why should they? She knew that some people did not like the Order (though she knew not why), and she was aware that outsiders were rarely trusted; even outsiders bearing silver buckets to a fire. Her advice on the trench might be worth something to them; but her attempt at heroic acts may be viewed with skepticism at best.

 Still, for all the looks of distrust she was given by some, she was also met with grateful glances in her direction. "Be safe," one of the townsfolk, an older cervid, said, passing a bucket down the line as she spoke. "and be fast. Thank you for the buckets," the doe added, looking her over for a moment as though assessing whether she thought Arianwyn might survive the flaming beast. The look she gave was one of solemn acknowledgement; the silver mare could see it in the tightness of her expression, the flatness of her mouth as she said her thanks. The cervid did not think Arianwyn would survive; her thank-you was a goodbye to a stranger as much as it was an acknowledgement of help. Arianwyn tossed her head slightly, meeting the strange expression with one of pride. This doe did not know she was speaking to a mage protector or, more importantly, a Runeguard. Arianwyn was facing an impossible situation, but she had faced such odds before and survived. Something about the doubt of a stranger only inspired her to act. She had a legacy to live up to, and a duty as an Order Mage to the lands and its people. Even if the people did not believe in her. She would simply prove them wrong.

 Arianwyn bit back some snarky response, knowing it wouldn't help the situation, and instead opted for diplomacy. "Take care as well," she replied, truly meaning it. She knew people would risk their lives rather than see their homes charred to ash—she did not blame them; knowing she would do the same if Namarast was ever under attack. It ran in the family, given her own parents had lost their lives the very same way. She could not bid these people to flee to safety, but only wish them luck against such dire odds. Though she longed to stay and do more, the silvered mare knew she would be more help on the front lines of the battle, trying to stop the monster, or at least lead it away from the town.

 With that, Arianwyn turned from the town to begin her chase towards the monster; following the scent of smoke and of the wall of heat emanating from its massive form. As she moved, she pulled silver ore to herself, hoping desperately that she could gather enough to craft weapons or armor—anything that might save her in a fight for her very life.