Log of the Death of Tash 2/6/93 Our disclaimer: Typos and mavs have been corrected. :) Our protagonist: Strongbow of the Lost Holt; Wolfrider hunter, and archer, and highly skilled sender. Bonded to the wolf Lashpaw. Our antagonist: Tash, renegade solitary Cat Elf. Our background: For eights of days the archer Strongbow had been tracking the renegade elf Tash, who had been harrying the Willowholt. The chase began with a promise to Rillwhisper, the Willowholt chieftess... but, for Strongbow, the hunt had turned even more serious as he learned more and more about the solitary Tash, becoming convinced at last that this Cat Elf was another Winnowill, and a threat not only to the Wolfrider Way but to all elves in general. The hunt had not been easy. A previous battle with Tash and his mind-bound servant rockshaper Mireka left Strongbow trapped in stone shaped by Mireka around his feet. Tash and Mireka fled, but not without their own woundings. Helped free from the rock by Rillwhisper and their bond-wolves, Strongbow took only enough time to allow Rillwhisper to make him new boots before he set off after Tash again, ignoring the damage to his feet. He tracked Tash up the bank of the Wandering River, following scent trails laid down by not only Tash and Mireka, but also Trollkiller - younger lifemate of Rillwhisper - and Winnowill. After awakening one night to find, surprisingly, that his feet had apparently been healed during his sleep, he also found the scent of Silversong the healer to follow. All three of the other scents followed Tash's and Mireka's up to a certain point on the river; after that, only Silversong's followed, and even then only to a certain farther point. The archer ignored every scent but that of the one he sought, however, eventually trailing his quarry through hills and woods somewhat Sun-Goes-Down-ward of his own home Holt. Once he reached the place where Tash's scent seemed to go no farther, though, it quickly became evident that Tash had ceased to flee, and was indeed aware that he was being sought.... Our scene: Winding Woods Path The long and winding road meanders through the forest for many miles. Contents: Strongbow Lashpaw Obvious exits: Forest Edge(NE) High Point on Silver Lake Path(SW) Strongbow slips silently, feet barely brushing the soft, grassy ground, arrow nocked... The scent is strong here, along the path; the air is heavy, and almost too quiet. Strongbow sets one foot in front of the other with the precision of experience, the grace of the hunter. His ears twitch slightly as he strains his perceptions, his mind carefully locked away behind walls of will and fury. Overhead, and on all sides, the forest greenery is mostly unbroken, light dappling only occasionally down to touch the earth. Still, there is a sense from the foliage of watching, and of waiting... Strongbow stops, his eyes sweeping the undergrowth, the diffuse light focusing, glinting ferally in their hazel depths. Very subtly, there comes a shift in that *sense* of watch-wait; it has an almost mocking tang to it, now. Strongbow crouches, bow still held taut, and leans his head back, his nose sniffing questingly at the oppressively still air, his muscles standing out in stark relief against his gaunt form. Whisper-soft, and elusive as a scent carried on the breeze, there comes the faintest of send-chuckles from the leaves. Strongbow's head swings around, in an attempt to track the mindsound, though what might otherwise be classified a smile begins to tug, briefly, at his lips. From the branches overhead, another sending comes, threaded smoothly through with a subtle taunt: *You again. I was told you would follow.* Strongbow remains silent, though his eyebrow might have raised a bit. The send-touch closes in for a moment, doing some seeking of its own. Strongbow lifts a pebble silently, and tosses it, in a slow, smooth motion, into the bushes off to one side. The pebble lands with a rustle of leaf, but there is no other sound, no other sense except that... probing. Strongbow stays preternaturally still, almost willing himself to be part of the forest, a bush, a sapling, a tree... a natural portion of the scenery. The probing send-sense seems almost... amused. From somewhere very close by: *You are even stronger-willed than the fireshaper. Intriguing.* A brief flicker of Strongbow's jaw reveals the tension of his body. No more motion mars his stillness, however.... The send-probe slides easily back, though it does not vanish completely, seemingly circling warily and invisibly around the motionless elf and the wolf on the ground. Strongbow's eyes twitch every so slightly, the crow's feet around them tightening, as Strongbow sends the tiniest little probe back, sinuously threading its way back along the same path as the send-search. There... just overhead, maybe? Or to the right? There is a blocking, a teasing parry of the replying probe; no startlement here, but a sense of relaxed ease. Strongbow seems to nod to himself. With almost painfully slow motions, he settles himself into a half-kneeling crouch, bow held loosely at the ready. He closes his eyes, and waits... Another send, casually open: *Well then. I'm told you're good, archer. That you can even pin fleeting shadows spotted out of the corner of your eye... shall we test?* Overhead, there comes the softest rustle as something flips agilely through the branches. Strongbow stands with his classic efficiency, draws smoothly, and lets an arrow fly into the leaves, the slender wooden shaft streaking into the shadowy foliage after the movement, and sound. There comes a solid *thunk* - brightmetal arrowhead striking wood. On the heels of that, another amused send. *Spirits of my ancestors! You are good. You very nearly caught me.* On the coattails of the send, another blur of motion, another arrow streaking through the evening air, slicing cleanly through the thick atmosphere. The branches rustle more loudly as a just-visible, tall lean figure flips out of the way. No *thunk* this time, but another send-chuckle. A flicker enter Strongbow's eyes, then leaves, by way of his bow, as an arrow darts out to the left of the briefly sighted figure, only to be followed by another arrow to the right. Tash sends openly *Aie-ya! A hole in my cloak, now. Should I come down to give you a better sighting of me, little wolf's blood?* Strongbow's lips twitch slightly. Save that, there is no response. There is the faintest of tearing sounds, from above. *A well-made dart. How many are you carrying, then? Two eights of them? Fewer? More? Just so that I know how many I must dodge, you understand. I am feeling up for a challenge.* Strongbow stands still, his posture seeming to indicate that he considers this portion of the game at an end. Promptly, the taunting mind-voice falls into silence, though not without another sarcastic mental chuckle. Strongbow looks about, and sends, for the first time, *Next?* The mind-probe returns, circling almost eagerly, with another very dry chuckle. *You tell me. You are, after all, the hunter... I am merely the hunted.* Undercutting the send there is a sense of profound pleasure. Strongbow actually smiles, a harsh, though delighted expression that is mirrored by the primeval glint in his eyes. Tash sends openly *I have waited days for you to catch up. Would you wish now to prove to me that you are worth my time?* Strongbow quirks an eyebrow, as if to indicate that he has quite little to prove. There comes an actual audible chuckle... and with a dark blur, Tash suddenly flips down out of the branches, landing lightly on his feet. His scarred face is twisted in a sardonic grin. Tash sends openly *Here I am, then. Kill me!* Tash bows magnanimously. Strongbow nocks an arrow, and draws it, the head pointing at Tash's heart... the arrowhead trembles almost invisibly. Strongbow frowns. Tash's black eyes twinkle. Strongbow's eyes flash in response, his shoulders bunching and releasing. Tash sets himself languidly. *Am I too far away?* He chuckles, and advances a pace closer. *I should not want you to miss because of my being out of range.* His gaze is fixed on Strongbow's face, intent, searching. Strongbow snarls quietly, his lip curling. His fingers spread, the arrow [is] released. It streaks forward, arcing slowly in flight, sinking shallowly into Tash's left arm. Tash's lips curl in a half-snarl, half-smile, and he seems for the briefest of moments disappointed for some reason. His eyes glittering darkly, he pulls the arrow free, with only a brief tightening of a muscle in his brown cheek indicating the effort spent to do so. Strongbow growls. *Move*Run*Dodge*Act* Tash sends openly *Very well then. You have your weapons, and I have mine... * Strongbow once again flashes a humorless smile; as the mental arrow batters aginst his defenses, he knocks another arrow, his hands now steady and firm. Tash crouches, cat-like, his expression darkening, and his sending ripping in another probe... almost as if to seek exactly how the archer will aim, a split-second before the arrow flies. Strongbow snarls as he releases an arrow, and Tash seems to dodge before the arrow is released... Strongbow quirks an eyebrow, sweat beading on his brow, as he gets an inkling of what Tash is doing... Tash pauses, but only briefly, eyeing his opponent with a dangerous glint to his gaze. Strongbow closes his thoughts about him like a shroud, submerging his conciousness deep within the shadowy depths of his brain. Tash closes in the send to probe incessantly at those shields as with another agile roll - only slightly stiff, with Tash's wounded arm - he comes closer to Strongbow, narrowing the distance. Tash send-growls with an almost manic gleam in his eyes, *Try and take me, then, archer! I have been taunted by my Recognized, my daughter, the fireshaper's tribe... why not you, too?* Strongbow seems in a fugue state. With a startling motion, his hand flickers back, drawing and nocking the bow once more. Tash, cat-quick and cat-lithe, teeth gritted and bared and white against his brown face, leaps in for the archer, aiming for the bow. Strongbow releases, his motion not belied by any conscious thought or aim, being a function of pure instinct.. Tash's face contorts in a flash of pain as the arrow catches his side. Strongbow almost sighs, as he swings the bow itself around, in a vicious strike at Tash's face. Tash immediately whips out with a fierce black sending, almost smiling - the mindtouch is made all the stronger by the palpable sense of complete and utter unconcern. Tash blinks, dazed, but only for a moment. Pain-cleared and fiercely strong, his send lashes at the archer's mind again as Tash grabs physically for the bow again. Strongbow seems shaken by the abject apathy, and stumbles back a pace or two, the bow falling from his hands. He reaches for his knife... only to realize he used it against Tash in their previous episode and no longer has it. Tash grins crookedly, eyes febrilely bright as he coils the send up for a mental backhand, and lets it fly. Strongbow's head physically snaps back, as if struck, and he turns back to Tash, his lip bleeding from where he bit into it, and his stare turns cold/hot with white fury. He responds with a fist that lashes out towards Tash's midsection. Tash crumples with the blow, his skin going pale under the brown-gold. Still, though, his eyes are alight and his face twisted in a grin as his sending locks like teeth around the archer's mind. Strongbow's teeth clench down brutally, the edge of his lip caught between. Blood runs freely down his chin. He stumbles, but focuses on the physical pain, using it as a shield, throwing it back at Tash. Inexorably, he begins to move forward... slowly. Tash sends openly * Come on then, wolf's blood! Send my soul back to the Palace of the High Ones!* Strongbow slows, stumbling in his steps with a brief bout of confusion. With a soundless snarl of frustration, he throws himself at Tash, hands extended, tensed like talons. Tash's size is wetly red, where the arrow has bitten into him. But the smile does not leave his scarred face, and his send, even in its fierceness, is almost welcoming as his opponent lunges. Strongbow barrels into Tash, his hands locking around the Cat Elf's neck. Tash falls to the ground, still sneering, though a flush is now darkening his cheeks. *Shall I take you with me to see the Palace, hey?* His send closes in to mirror each of Strongbow's physical actions. Strongbow growls. *Try me* Strongbow begins to squeeze, his features tightening in pain, as his mind is battered... Tash grins sardonically, and brings both of his hands up in a blinding motion, clapping hard against either side of the archer's head. Strongbow growlscreams in pain, and the grip around his mind gains a few more notches. His hands, however, seem to have a mind of their own, and keep up their relentless pressure. Strongbow gasps raggedly for breath, sweat mingling with tears on his face, his body shuddering. Tash's arms suddenly go limp, falling to either side of him. His gaze dims slightly, his face going more dark... but his send does not lose its force, not quite yet... Strongbow's grip weakens slightly, though it still more than adequately cuts off circulation and airflow. His breath emerges in great, heaving sobs, his eyes clenched shut. Tash's own eyes drop shut, the fierce grin across his face wavering. Tash sends openly * Just a little fur... further, archer, and I'll be naught but lifeless meat...* Strongbow takes in a deep, shuddering breath, and presses, with the last of his failing energy, against his foe's windpipe, his grip tightening with an archer's strength, and a force born of desparation. Tash sends a final time, a sudden wave of shock as his body registers the lack of *air*... and another wave of shock and fierceness as his soul leaves his body with an inaudible shriek. Strongbow tumbles to the ground beside Tash, his chest heaving, fighting for every breath. He hurls a ragged howl up at the infuriatingly serene sigh. Lashpaw, quiet during the incident, joins his voice to his companion's in a poignant keening that mixes triumph with loss. Tash lies motionless, still. Strongbow passes out by the body of Tash, his body bruised, his mind doubly so. Lashpaw curls up by his friend.