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Master Ironskink
David Bilsky

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The Black Forest Trouble in Frollop Head in the Clouds

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Trouble in Frollop

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"Can't we go back?" Tibba asked, rubbing his arms as he looked around uncertainly. The world beyond the forest was so... so open. The road they were on just stretched on and on. It disappeared over a hill, and then continued on another hill on the other side. Tibba felt like an Accolos might swoop down at any second to carry him off, or that the ground they were walking on might give way and swallow him up.

"Oh, come on. Where's your adventuring spirit? Your thirst for excitement?" Dimos asked, grinning. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "You smell that, kid?"

Tibba screwed his eyes shut and tentatively sniffed the air. Without all the undertones of the forest, all he could smell was emptiness. No comforting tang of conifer needles, none of the warm decay of leaf mulch. Without the perfumes of countless flowering plants vying for the attention of their favourite pollinators, the air smelled unnaturally silent.

Tibba shook his head. "It's too empty out here. Come on, let's get back somewhere safe."  He turned around, but barely made it a full step before Dimos' outstretched arm caught him and spun him back around.

"Come on, kid! Your dragon-buddy already told us that the answer's not in there! What are you going to do if you go back, anyways? Hang around in the trees with wax in your ears while you ignore the forest dying around you?"

"...Yes?"

Dimos choked back a laugh as he gently-but-firmly guided Tibba back onto the road and in the right direction. "Oh, come on. I know you don't mean that. I saw that look on your face when we stumbled into that rotting Axolotl tree."

"Atlatl," Tibba corrected. "But-!"

"No buts!" Dimos cut Tibba off, before lowering his voice. "Look. Greenie. It's a big world out there, yeah, but who better to go out and face it head-on than us, hmmm?"

"Anybody else?"

"Ha! That's why I like you, kid. But trust me. You'll be fine. Like the old saying goes, 'Whatever doesn't kill you makes for a fantastic story you can tell later!' And anything that does should make a great story for someone else to share."

"That's not exactly the most comforting piece of advice you could've shared just now."

"Ha! Now come on, gotta keep those feet moving if we want to make Frollop by nightfall!"

Tibba shielded his eyes as he glanced upwards. The sun had barely passed high noon. "That's the big city you keep promising?"

"Frollop?! HA!" Dimos slapped Tibba on the back as he doubled over with laughter. "You're adorable! Naw, the only things that place has going for it is that it's close. If we're lucky, we'll even be able to get a meal, a bed, and a ride the rest of the way."

"If we're unlucky?"

"Well, then we'll have to forage, camp under the stars, and hike the rest of the way. Not the end of the world, just a more exciting start to your adventure."

Tibba plodded along with Dimos. His feet were already starting to hurt from all this flatlanding.

"So if we're unlucky," Tibba asked to break the silence, "how long will it take?"

"Not long. Five days, six tops. Well, as long as we don't get ambushed by local wildlife, get rained out, or forced to take a detour."

"Five days?! In all this... this flat?!"

Tibba's feet throbbed just thinking about it.

"Ha! If you think this if flat, just wait 'till we get out of the foothills!"

Tibba groaned. "Are you sure we can't go back?"


[Tibba's first encounter with humans]

Tibba crouched behind the shrub, doing his best to make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible while Dimos scouted the trail up ahead to see if the figures coming from the opposite direction were hostile or not. Even though his home forest wasn't even a full day's hike behind them, the trees were uncomfortably sparse and most of the greenery was these nasty, dense, prickly things that looked like they'd be murder on his wing-membranes. Most of the trees even had these awful things growing around their bases, meaning that even when they did pass close to one he couldn't actually reach it to climb up and give his feet a break by gliding for a stretch.

The people out here must lead absolutely miserable lives.

"Pssst. Kid."

Tibba was so startled by the voice behind him that he nearly jumped out of next season's shed.

"Don't do that!" Tibba hissed at Dimos, his dewlap and wing-flaps flaring in agitation before quickly forcing himself to calm down again. Deep breath. "So? Are we in danger?"

"Strictly speaking? Always! But the two on the road should be safe enough. It's only two, humans, a guy and a lady. The good news is that she's wearing the colours of the Healer's Enclave, so they should be safe."

"Safe as in keep-hiding-and-let-them-pass safe?"

"Ha!" Dimos did his best to keep his laugh at least a little bit quiet. "Nah, I was thinking 'safe' as in 'you-should-say-hi-and-see-if-there's-any-gossip-before-we-hit-town' safe."

"Wait, do what? Me??"

"Yeah, you. It doesn't take a clairvoyant to see that you've never actually talked to non-'Veldi before you met me, and you badly need the practise."

"But-"

"Trust me! This is really lucky! They'll be totally safe! It's not like you'll have a big audience, and you'll know what a human looks like before we get to town! Win-win-win!"

"Why can't I just see what they look like from here and let you do all the talking?"

"'Cause it's your quest, not mine! I'm just here to keep your nose pointed in the right direction and haul your tail out of the water if you're going under, remember?"

"But-!"

"You said that already! You'll be great. And I'll be right here behind you in case anything goes wrong. So go! Go!" Dimos gave Tibba a gentle push on his back. "Don't wait 'till the last second, travellers tend to be a bit jumpy when things spring out from the thicket at the last second. Generally for good reason, you can sometimes still get bandits-"

"Bandits?!"

"Not something we have to worry about right now! Just look confident, but not too confident, and get ready to turn on that charm," Dimos said as they slipped back behind the shrub.

"I thought you said you'd back me up!"

"Yeah, right behind you! Trust me, you'll make a better first impression if they don't see me right away."

"But-"

"Enough 'but's! I'm here if you need me, just pretend like I'm not unless you need me, alright? Good? Good."

Tibba worked his jaw but no sound came out as Dimos withdrew to behind the spiky shrub. The Tssrrn flashed him a thumbs-up sign before pulling his arm back out of sight.

Tibba swallowed hard. Maybe it wasn't too late to run away and hide as well?

A branch snapping a short ways ahead, from just around the bend in the road, grabbed his attention.

"Stay behind me, I thought I heard voices," rumbled a deep voice. The accent was so thick and strange that it took Tibba a moment to process the sound into words.

Tibba glanced backwards at the shrub. He couldn't see Dimos, but could imagine how they'd be nudging him forward if he could. Tibba swallowed hard. If the honey had already hit the floor, he may as well get this over with.

"H- Hello?" Tibba squeaked.

"Who goes there?" demanded the harsh, heavy voice.

"Um..." Tibba's tongue felt thick in his mouth as he tried to compose a response.

Before he could, the two travellers came around the bend and into view. They were both tall, roughly half again as tall as he was, with smooth skin that was almost completely covered by clothing that only revealed their hands and faces. The one in front was larger, bulkier, with a hairy dewlap on their chin that came to a neat point around the base of their neck. They wore leather armour that was dyed red and gold, a matching leather cap, and had one hand on the hilt of a sword partially drawn from a scabbard that hung from their waist.  In contrast, the second human was a bit shorter and of a much slighter build, with fairer and younger-looking features and wearing a long, hooded blue-and-white cloak trimmed with silver that covered them from their head down to their toes.

That larger, older-looking one in front must be the lady healer that Dimos referred to. Tibba tried to will his voice into making an appropriate greeting. What was the proper way to address a human?

"At ease, Steadwick," said the second, smaller human in that same thick accent, reaching forward to place a hand on their companion's arm. Their voice was much lighter in tone than the first, and reminded Tibba of some of the cooing birds that lived in the mid-canopy back home. "I don't think it means us harm."

It? Tibba straightened and puffed out his dewlap slightly. He was a fully mature adult, had been for five years! He wasn't a still-genderless child!

The lead human - Something-wick? Was that a name? A title? - scowled and gave a little snort, but she relaxed her grip on her sword and let it klink! back into the scabbard. "It could be a trap," she said. "I thought I heard it talking to someone."

Ack! What was it Dimos had said? Something about this being easier if they didn't see the Tssrrn?  He needed to act!

Tibba cleared his throat. "Um. Hi. Ah... Greetings! Yes, greetings, Lady... er, Chadstick? Of the Healer's Conclave, and, um, your handsome... young companion?  I'm, uh... just travelling to Frollop and... um..."

Amusement sparkled in the younger human's eyes as he raised a hand to cover his mouth. The larger one, however, did not look so amused. Her hand was reaching for something on her belt that Tibba couldn't quite see, the expression on her face twisted into an angry scowl that was showing her teeth.

"What did you say?" she growled.

"Um..."  This was not the easy encounter that he had been promised!  Tibba spun around to flee. "Dimos! Help!"

"Ambush!" the lead human cried.

Tibba heard something whooshing through the air behind him that slammed into his legs. It wrapped around and tripped him up. He winced as he hit the dirt. His legs were tied up by a length of some kind of rope with a heavy rock on each end. Tibba did his best to twist around to free himself without scraping up his wings on the dirt. "Dimos!!"

"Whoa whoa hey, no need to open with violence now, is there?" Dimos said, slipping out from behind the trees to interpose between Tibba and the humans. Dimos' voice had the chill calm cranked up to maximum, but from this side Tibba could see that the Tssrrn was hiding an oddly-shaped blade in their prehensile tail.

"I told you! Blue-scaled bandits- Watch your back, we could be surrounded!"

"Hey, hey, hey. That's a bit of a tall wave you're sweeping out there," Dimos replied. His hands were up to show they were empty, but Tibba could see the way Dimos' tail gripped their blade a bit tighter. "I assure you, we have far more cause to be afraid of you than you of us. And it's really a shame, too. This kid was so excited to meet humans for the first time that he practically begged-"

"Dimos," Tibba muttered.

"Steadwick," the second human said, again reaching out to touch the first on the arm.  The bigger one looked back and said something quietly enough that Tibba couldn't hear. The second human had a serious look on his face and nodded. Steadwick grunted and relaxed their stance, but didn't put her weapon away.

It was pretty weird, actually, thought Tibba as he tried to comprehend what was going on. Back home, young men were expected to listen to their elders, not the other way around.

The second human stepped forward, in front of the one with the weapons. "My apologies for the recklessness of my bodyguard's actions. He was only trying to protect me. May I see your companion and make sure they are alright?"

Dimos made a small bow and took a few steps directly backwards to be behind Tibba, still being very careful not to show their own weapon. "Of course, m'lady! There can be no finer ministrations than from the hands of a Silver Moon Adept, can there?"

M'lady... Bodyguard... Tibba could feel his face get hot with embarrassment. That probably explained a lot about how this encounter had fallen apart so quickly.

The blue-robed human covered his- her face with her hand again as she approached, Steadwick following closely behind and looking like he was on high alert for any kind of funny business. "You flatter me, good Tssrrn," she said as she knelt down beside Tibba. "I am only a Journeyman, still many years away from being an Adept. Now. Hold still, little one..."


[Tibba and Dimos are caught as they investigate a strange location in Frollop]

 

Rough, calloused hands shoved Tibba unceremoniously to the ground. Dimos slammed into the ground next to him a moment later.

"Hey, buddy, I'm sure there's just been a teensy mistake," Dimos said as they pushed themselves up with their hands. "I'm sure that we can clear it all up if we could just talk with the person in char- ooof!"

The guard pushed Dimos back down to the ground with their boot. "Yeah, that's not happening," they growled. "You wanna know what tressipats-"

"Trespassers?" Dimos grunted from under the guard's foot.

"Quiet!" the guard barked, pressing down even harder on Dimos's back. "I don't need your fancy words!"

"Noted," Dimos croaked.

"Good! Now, I'm gonna make this real easy for ya-"

"Is somebody here, Evkin?" called a low, smooth voice from somewhere nearby.

The guard took their foot off Dimos' back as they spun around and went down on one knee to address the newcomer. "Father Wyrran! You, er, got back early today."

The guard's words hung in the air for an uncomfortable moment. Even though he didn't dare turn around to see what was going on, Tibba had the distinct feeling that this 'father' figure wasn't particularly fond of the guard who had caught them. Maybe there was still a chance for them to get out of this with their skins intact after all?

"And what have you dragged in this time, Evkin?" asked the voice of Father Wyrran.

"Just some friendly travellers," said Dimos, wheezing slightly, as they tried to roll onto their side.

Evkin quickly shoved them back down. "They was snooping! Sneaking around the place like a coupla dirty thieves!"

"Travellers, you say?" said Father Wyrran. Tibba's vision was obscured by long, dark purple robes that walked by before the owner turned and crouched down to look at the two dragonkin on the floor. The face that peered out from the shadows beneath its silver-trimmed hood was as pale and flawless as carved marble, and their thin smile carried just as much warmth. "Fascinating. You both must be so far away from home. My my. Does anybody even know where you are?"

"Yeah - oooof - plenty of folks," Dimos answered around their captor prodding them in the side with their boot. "Some pretty darn powerful people, too, who would definitely miss us if we suddenly went missing. Boy, would I ever hate to be in your nightgown if they showed up asking about our whereabouts. But important people like you and I know that cognitively-challenged underlings make mistakes, so I'm willing to strike a deal and get out of your pretty silver hair without making a big deal- ow! Like for starters, could you get him to knock it off with the kicking?"

Father Wyrran's smile grew wider in a distinctly non-friendly way. "So nobody, then. And what about this green one?"

"That's not -mmmpfh!" Dimos was cut off when Evkin sat on the Tssrrn's back and clamped their mouth shut with their big, meaty hand.

All eyes turned to Tibba, and he suddenly realized that both the guard and Father Wyrran had been practically ignoring him the whole time that Dimos was distracting them with their bravado. If there was ever going to be a time to try to escape, that would've been it. 

"Me?" he squeaked.

"I don't think we've ever seen one of your stripes outside of your vicious little tree realm. You would think that those Pretty Powerful People would know better than to send a sparkling little emerald like yourself into a dark and dreary cavern like this. Surely they would have known how you would stand out like a lone candle in the depths."

Tibba swallowed, tasting dirt and his own rising fear.

Father Wyrran stood up again. "Evkin?"

"Do I gets to have fun with them?" their captor asked eagerly.

"I have a better idea," Father Wyrran said, and Tibba could hear the cold smile behind those words. "Bring them to the Ceremony Room."

"Oooo, I like the way you thinks, boss." Rough hands lifted Tibba up as Evkin picked him up and pinned him under one arm.

Dimos rolled out of the way when Evkin tried to pick them up, too. "Whoa! Hey! No touchy!" they protested. "No need to roughhouse! I'm coming along peacefully!"

Evkin looked to Father Wyrran.

"Let the good wanderer walk with us," Father Wyrran said. They made a slight gesture toward the heavy velvet curtains on the wall, and the cord for drawing them open detached itself and slithered towards Dimos. "Besides, it is the tail you need to watch, which you wouldn't be able to do if you were hauling them like a sack of tubers."

As Father Wyrran motioned with his finger, the cord wound its way around Dimos's wrists and then coiled around their tail to pin it close to their back. For their part, Dimos didn't resist, but stared meaningfully at Tibba while they were getting tied up.

What that meaning was, Tibba had no idea. He'd never been captured by a cult before, or escaped from any sort of prison, or anything like this. The worst trouble he'd ever had to worry about before all this was the time he'd caught an earful for accidentally harvesting fruit from Rastika's personal grove!

"Very impressive," Dimos deadpanned. "Not my first choice of 'celebration' attire, but far be it for me to judge House Serpentis on their fashion choices. I draw the line at black leather though - chafes something wicked on my skin - so don't even try."

"Oh, don't worry. It will not be that kind of celebration. Evkin?"

"Can't we shut his yap too?"

"And deprive them of the opportunity to condemn whoever sent them in their stream of half-truths? I wouldn't want to miss any such clues to why they are nosing around in our business, would you?"

"Huh. Yeah, now that you put it that way, you probably should zip these lips shut," said Dimos. "No way do I stand a chance against the uncanny wiles of such a master manipulator."

Tibba hung limply in Evkin's crushing grasp. This was going to be it. They were either going to die here or locked away and never seen again - and either way, it meant more of the jungle, his home was going to die. And it would be his fault-

Dimos kept nattering to their captors as they were led to a chamber deep underground, occasionally shooting Tibba significant-seeming Looks. Looks that Tibba still had no idea how to interpret, making him feel even worse about their predicament. Whatever foul fate was about to befall them was going to be entirely his fault now, because he somehow held the key to their escape and just didn't know how to use it. Maybe if his arms weren't pinned and he could reach his sleeping darts...?

Father Wyrran finally stopped when they came to an intimidating iron door set at the end of a stone corridor. They reached up to grab a handle on a chain hanging from the ceiling, wrapped their slender fingers around it, and slowly pulled it down. The door rumbled and screeched as it reluctantly swung open, and as Tibba was hauled inside following Father Wyrran and Dimos he thought he could hear the ticking of some sort of clockwork mechanism in the walls.

Before he could try to distract himself by wondering what it could be, the doors screeched again as they swung closed behind them, sealing them all inside the final chamber with a decisive bang.

Tibba started to panic and squirmed in Evkin's grasp. It was completely dark in here, not an iota of light leaking in from the world outside. The reverberating echoes made the room feel both claustrophobic and cavernous at the same time.

Somebody snapped their fingers, and a single candle burst to life on the floor at the centre of the chamber. 

--- CHAPTER BREAK? ---

Tibba blinked as his eyes adjusted to the candlelight. The candle wasn't strong enough to illuminate the walls of whatever chamber they were captive in, but it was able to cast long, ominous shadows from the five tall, cloaked figures standing around it. Five hoods that completely obscured the faces of the people behind them were turned to look their way.

They were all gathered around a circle of strange carvings in the stone. Tibba felt a shiver run down his spine just looking at it, and he noticed Dimos' expression go strangely serious as they stared at the scene before them.

"What are those?" whispered one of the robed figures.

"I come bearing gifts," Father Wyrran replied, and Tibba could hear that cold smile behind the words as they spread their arms wide to gesture at Dimos and himself. "A pair of sacrifices for our patron fell into our lap today."

"Sacrific-" Tibba yelped before a big meaty hand clamped down on his mouth to shut him up.

The hooded figures whispered amongst themselves for a moment. Tibba frantically looked around trying to see a way out, but even if he managed to slip out of his captor's grasp there wasn't anywhere for him to go.

The hooded cultists seemed to come to some sort of agreement. Father Wyrran took hold of Dimos' bindings and stepped forward, completing the circle. They began chanting something in a language that Tibba didn't understand, moving their hands and arms in eerily synchronized patterns, and Tibba could feel energy tingling along the edges of his scales as the magical potential in the room intensified.

The candle in the centre of the room burned brighter and brighter as the energy in the room built up, until suddenly it flared brightly, like a bolt of lightning, before going completely out.  Tibba blinked uselessly as his ruined night-vision tried to adapt once more to the pitch darkness.

Tibba twisted his head away from the hand that was holding him and, hoping that his captor was just as blind as he was, chomped down as hard as he could.

"AAARRGH! Little chorstak!"

The grip holding Tibba loosened and he fell to the floor, scrambling to get out of the way as soon as his limbs touched the stone.

"Evkin?" asked Father Wyrran's voice.

"That ugly scaleskin bit me!"

"Our guest is nearly here, kindly retrieve their snack and keep it contained until we find out if they're in a thrill-of-the-hunt mood today."

Tibba did his best to quiet his rapid breathing from where he perched, gripping onto the rough stone walls right up where they met the ceiling. He could hear Evkin mutter and suck on his hand as the guard stumbled away from the magic circle to look for him. 

A deep red light began to build in the centre of the circle as Tibba slowly crept forward, trying to put together an escape plan. The door they had come in through was sealed, probably with some sort of mechanism on this side to open it... unless it only opened from this side using something like the magic rope trick that Father Wyrran had used on Dimos. He crawled along blindly, carefully feeling ahead of him each step of the way to try and find a hidden chain, the seam of the door, or anything else that might point to a way out. They must have some kind of ventilation shaft to keep the air here from going completely stagnant, right? A cramped crawlway surrounded by unyielding rock would be infinitely preferable to becoming a snack.

The deep red glow was slowly growing brighter, and Tibba froze when a thick arm with a hand ending in long black claws suddenly reached up out of the centre of it. A second arm followed, and there was a meaty slap that echoed through the stone room when those hands hit the floor and began straining, pulling whatever lay on the other side of the magic through. Two heavy, curled horns emerged, followed by the hideous head they were attached to. The face had a shape vaguely like a deer, but with a mix of scales and fur and teeth like a jungle piranha. Worst of all were the two flames burning inside of the empty voids where the eyes should be.

The aberration snorted, sparks flaring from its nostrils, as it strained against whatever barrier existed between the two worlds. Its torso slowly emerged, red and black with a patchwork mix of fur and scales, then a leg ending with what looked like a clawed hoof broke through to help push. It wasn't going to be long now - the magic portal and the visitor were giving off enough light that Tibba could somewhat see the walls again. He couldn't see anything that looked like it might be an escape exit - there was one shadow that might be hiding something deeper, but it was all the way around on the opposite side of the chamber. Evkin was still stumbling around, looking for Tibba the corners of the room while cursing around the hand he still had shoved in his mouth. It wouldn't be long before he looked up, would it?

Tibba gripped the rock tightly his feet and pressed against it with his body and tail while he slowly, quietly reached for his blowpipe and darts. With a little bit of luck...

He took a steadying breath, aimed, and fired a dart at Evkin's silhouette. He heard an 'Ow' and some slapping and shuffling as the burly guard tried to find what bit him before the sedative took effect. Tibba held his breath as he watched the robed figures in the centre, deathly afraid that it had been too much noise, that any second now they would all turn and see him and blast him with their magic powers or worse. But as Evkin slumped into unconsciousness, Tibba allowed himself to believe that they were too focused on the otherworldly visitor finally stepping up and out of the summoning portal to have noticed.

The monstrosity rose to its full height, standing on two legs while its long, snakelike tail lashed angrily in the air. Tibba swallowed hard. It had to be at least twice as tall as their captors, maybe even three times Tibba's own height. Its horns nearly brushed the ceiling! It would probably take more than the seven sleeping darts he had left to knock it out, if they affected the thing at all, and that would still leave all of the cultists-

The monstrosity roared something that sounded like it could be words as it glared at the cultists that summoned it here. "Grath ngrrak ctharnakt het"

Father Wyrran waved their arms as they responded in the same language, though somehow they managed to make even those harsh syllables sound almost like a song. "Tgrreth ngrrak, sheokalrrdum."

Maybe, Tibba thought, as he slowly readied a second dart, maybe if I knock out the leader, that will cause enough confusion that we can escape?

Father Wyrran gestured at Dimos, and the bound Tssrrn staggered forward and was somehow forced down to their knees right in front of the monster. Tibba hurriedly reloaded his blowpipe as quickly as he dared without making any noise.

"E krraogarrth rragnor!" Father Wyrran proclaimed. Tibba raised his blowpipe, doing his best to gauge the distance in the dim, flickering light coming off of the monster's body, the only illumination in the room now. He was only going to get one shot at this...

The monster snorted, but seemed to consider whatever Father Wyrran had said as it crouched down, waaaay down, to regard Dimos.

Steady... Steady... Breathe...

The silhouette of Dimos looked up, and Tibba could imagine them making eye contact with that cheeky grin of theirs. The flames in the monster's eye sockets flared a bit brighter, which Tibba thought made the monster look surprised - which would have been funny, in any other circumstance.

Aim...

"Nokktrr eotglrrath," Dimos said. His head tilted as though he was appraising their doom from horn to hoof and back  "Lookin' good, Grath. Keeping well-fed, I see?"

The monstrosity seemed to sigh, puffing out just enough flame from its nostrils to let Tibba see his targets clearly.

Fire!


[Tibba and Dimos escape from the cultists and flee into the surrounding wilderness]

Tibba gripped the tree with his feet as he hung facing the ground, fumbling with his bandoleer to try and get a blowdart out. Just as he finally got one out, the tree suddenly rocked as something blasted it on the opposite side. Tibba panicked and dropped the dart as he jumped off and spread his wingflaps to glide to the next tree, swinging around it to put the tree between him and his pursuer and transferring his weight to his legs to free up his hands while he tried to ready his weapon.

How could people call this place a forest?! These weren't real trees, they were barely sticks! Proper trees back home could fit at least seven Ghishveldi tip-to-tail around their circumference, could comfortably fit a family of three in a single layer if they're hollowed out. These twigs left Tibba's toes exposed on either side and were barely thick enough to shield the full width of his torso!

Something slammed into this tree, too. Tibba gripped tighter as it rocked, then pushed off to glide to the next tree. He zig-zagged through three more jumps, quickly climbed the side of the trunk to regain some elevation, then paused again to as he struggled to get his ammunition out.

"You okay, kid?" Dimos shouted from the forest floor, looking up at their travelling companion.

"What is that thing?!" Tibba yelled back.

They heard another tree nearby get blasted, splinters of bark and wood raining down on the underbrush, as their pursuer got closer.

"No idea! Demonology wasn't ever my best subject."

"Wait, what?! Demons?"

"Eh, not that impressive, I dropped the subject in tenth year."

BOOM! Tibba's tree lurched forward, rocking violently from the impact of whatever the demon was hurling. He clutched his blowgun and the blowdart he'd managed to pull out tightly, but slipped with his feet. He tumbled head-over-tail before he managed to open his wings to catch himself and glide to the next anemic excuse-of-a-tree to grab on with his feet.

Barely two metres above the forest floor now. Gotta get higher! Forest floors are dangerous!

"Ixthilaxha nurdiens!" Dimos yelled, and it sounded like they stuck their tongue out at their pursuer as well, before they hopped back behind the tree they were sheltering behind. "You ready with that sleepy stinger up there, kiddo?"

"NO! I -! You speak demon?!"

"Only remember the swear words," Dimos replied. "You should have a clear shot in about five... four..."

Tibba focused on loading his blowpipe as quickly as he could without dropping the dart again, the claws on his toes digging into the bark as he gripped the tree with panicked energy. He was too low to get a proper shot! This wasn't like hunting back home at all! He was going to panic and miss his shot and he was going to get himself and Dimos killed and it would all be his fault!

"... One, one-half, one-quarter... Come on, ugly..."

Tibba did his best to get his breathing under control enough so that he could at least take a deep breath. If he was going to die, better to be taken out by this demon directly than to die of embarrassment by flubbing the shot.

"THERE!"

Tibba twisted around to look up at where Dimos pointed. The pale grey demon was even more hideous up close than he'd imagined. Beady black eyes that looked far too small for its wide face, a grotesque grin that showed off dozens of needle-sharp teeth, lanky arms and legs ending in nasty-looking skewering claws that dangled like it was some sort of oversized insect while it was kept aloft by its cartoonishly small wings. How does that thing stay aloft and hover like that when I'm limited to-

The demon raised its hands and Tibba could feel static crackling along his scales as it drew in magical energies from the forest to power its next blast. Tibba quickly aimed, fired and leapt out of the way before his scales and bones could be blasted to splinters like an old, dry tree. He caught the next trunk barely a metre from the ground with his free hand and swung around to the opposite side, scrambling up as quickly as he could while his heart pounded in his ears.

Tibba braced himself. He hadn't heard anything crash to the ground, so it must still be out there. He was hyperventilating now, too scared to even consider trying again.

The explosion he was waiting for didn't come.

"Nice shot, kid!" Dimos shouted up at the trees. "Now where'd you go?"

Tibba swallowed hard and managed to get his breathing back under control enough to speak. "Did we get it?"

"That, or it missed it's true calling in theatre. How long will it be knocked out?"

"...Depends?" Tibba cautiously peeked around the trunk of the tree he was on to look back towards the patch where Dimos was hiding. The grey-skinned demon was passed out halfway between them, still suspended in the air. "How-?"

"Huh? Oh, that." Dimos shrugged. "Demons cheat. Something about playing by the rules of their world even when they're in ours. Help me pull 'em down so that I can un-summon them, hey?"


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