The Outer Lord

Chapter 5 - Finding Friends in Limgrave

The scent was getting stronger, Blaidd was certain of it. His quarry was nearby, but the winds muddied the scent of the traitor, hiding him from the blade of the half-wolf. This wasn't the first time that Blaidd had been so close to scoring his kill, but it also wasn't the first time the slippery bastard had slinked away into the night. Darriwil. That was his prey's name. Once a trusted ally, his loyalty had strayed from their shared master, and thus Blaidd hunted day and night, across rivers and mountains, through the deeps and over the plains.

The half-wolf sat atop the hollowed-out tower of what had once been a minor outpost, now fallen to ruin and devoured by the trees that made up Mistwood. Down below, a Rune Bear slumbered, not seeming to mind Blaidd's howling. The night was moonless, as was every night since Radahn first arrested the stars, but Blaidd howled as if calling to it, willing it to appear for the sake of his master. He knew that Darriwil could slip away from him in the time it took him to do this, but for the half-wolf, this was a ritual of greater import.

Blaidd's wolven ears pricked up, catching sound from down below amidst the rustling of the trees. A rhythmic sound, steady of pace. Then the clink-clank of armour. Someone was approaching. Blaidd waited for several moments, deciding whether or not it was worth his attention. He decided it wasn't. The sound was most likely from one of the decrepit remnants of Godrick's men or one of the countless shambling madmen that wandered Limgrave. They'd likely have just gotten separated from their group or simply grown curious at the howling.

He breathed in and was ready to howl again, when a boot came sailing up in an arc past his head.

''Shut up!'' came an angered voice from below.

''Bloody hell!'' Blaidd cursed, scrabbling to regain his balance. That boot had flown past him so fast, he felt the turbulence from it move his fur. That would have hurt if it made contact. His lips curled back as he grabbed the hilt of his massive sword and leapt down from his perch. His armoured feet thumped on the ground as he landed, his heavy armour plates clanking. When he spotted his boot-slinging assailant, he saw a ragged-looking warrior. Blaidd watched him, and though he couldn't see the other man's face, the half-wolf knew he was glaring.

''That was uncalled for,'' Blaidd said, ''you throw boots at strangers often?''

''Only when I have a reason to,'' Talos replied. He thought the howling sounded a bit strange. It was the simulacrum of a wolf's howl. A good one, but still just an imitation. He hadn't expected this, though. In his travels, he'd encountered all sorts of human-animal hybrids. Most of them were just savage beasts only intent on making a meal out of him, but this one, armoured and armed, looked civilised. He stood upright with a warrior's bearing, without the primal hunch that he'd come to associate with beasts and hybrids. And he spoke, too. Not only that, this massive wolf-man didn't seem immediately hostile, only irked by Talos' interruption of his howling. Still, Talos wasn't about to jump to conclusions. Some of the most inhuman in appearance had ironically been the most human. Priscilla the Half-Breed and the Oeden Chapel Dweller sprung to mind. Both had been kind and gentle souls, sorely out of place in the bleakness that surrounded them. How he wished he could have done something for them.

''I wasn't expecting anyone to be around here at this time. I didn't wake you, did I?'' Blaidd asked, looking genuinely apologetic. Now Talos felt bad. He was stressed and still bottling his rage from earlier in the Roundtable Hold, so he was rather... volatile.

''No, you didn't,'' Talos sighed, ''my humours have been somewhat unbalanced, and my choler has gone unchecked. It got the better of me. The howling only made me lash out. I apologise,'' Talos gave a slight, knightly bow as he spoke.

''No harm done, friend,'' Blaidd said amicably as he held up an open palm, ''the rigours of this land test us all. It'd be a lie to claim my temper hadn't flared at the wrong people. That you apologised says enough that I needn't draw my blade. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry.''