Orin and the Largblat
Written by William Jackson
Art by Deric Albright || Artist of The Winged Man Art
Old gnarled willows dominate the skyline as they stretch their bent and broken arms to block out much of the moons natural light. The leaves are beginning to change from a vibrant green to a bright yellow as the tendrils fall to the swampy floor beneath. Walking through each curtain tendril, Orin picks his path with grace and ease to stay out of the muck of the swamps floor.
With each hop his waist length beard of black streaked with grey flows side to side. His grey face shines in the moonlight as his ebony eyes almost completely absorb the light—yet never seem to move within the sunken placement of the sockets upon his face. Scanning his surroundings, Orin knows he has travelled further west than he normally does on a night hunt.
The willows here number more dead than alive. The decrepit sense of the Boggerwood in this region has never repaired itself from a war waged almost a century ago. A light breeze from the south pushes up against Orin’s stout muscular frame as a look of sadness mixes into resentment. A memory crosses his mind of sailing the Dead Bay to this place so long ago. Shaking his head of the past he continues on. The Boggerwood is a dangerous place filled with monstrosities that only know survival of the fittest.
Crossing his path Orin examines tracks heading north coming from the south. Knowing the footprints are relatively fresh, and of a humanoid wearing boots or shoes. He makes a print of his own, next to one of the existing and kneels down to get a better view. Noticing now that this humanoid’s print is longer and leaves less of an impression in the mud. Whoever this could be, is taller and weighs much less than himself. Motivated by curiosity, Orin decides to follow these tracks north because he doesn’t see too many humanoids in the Boggerwood swamp.
After an hour of lightly jogging and briskly tracking Orin see’s no sight of who he could be following. The weight of his blue scalemail hauberk has brought sweat to his brow and made the grip on his greataxe harder due to the clamminess of his palms. Slowly coming over a small hillock Orin hopes the vantage point would allow him to see a greater distance. But who he has been following means little now, with the sight of what he has just stumbled across. Staring down the three meter tall ravine Orin can see a well used slide. Imprints of what looks like a large snake with periodic stab marks on either side of the body brings a sly grin across his smooth grey face.
In a low calm voice Orin says “Largblat.” And quickly checks his surroundings for the beast. Seeing no trace of what could easily be called a swamp dragon, Orin knows the Largblat will be back and it will continue to use it’s slide. Melding into the base of a large willow on top of the hillock Orin calmly waits for his prey to return.
As the time passes, Orin tries to peer through the dense willow to get a sight of the moon. Losing track of time has made his heart pace. Not wanting to get stuck in the morning sun or face a creature such as the Largblat with the suns rays on him, has made this wait frantic in his mind.
Then a snap of a twig catches his senses. Steadying his breathing Orin pauses in between breathes in hopes of hearing more. Another snap and rustling of leaves has his nerves spiking high. Not being able to see the beast has Orin on high alert, but he knows it’s close. Slowly dropping to his belly, Orin the grey begins dragging himself to the cliffs edge. Peering down the ravine to see a mature green Largblat pulling and slithering its way beneath him. Lifting himself into a crouching stance, he steadies his breathing, tightens the grip around his prized greataxe, then launches himself off the cliffs face and down into the ravine.
Coming in fast, Orin readies his greataxe as the Largblat senses him and twists its body to turn to face him. Opening its dragon like mouth wide it exposes rows of pearly white razor sharp teeth as four claw like hands come protruding out of its mouth. Hitting hard Orin’s greataxe barely cracks a thick scale protecting the shoulder joint, but quickly shifting his weight to deliver a sidelong swing that draws blood this time as his axe penetrates the smaller scales of the neck. Pulling up hard and fast Orin swings down again but only hits the floor of the ravine as the Largblat recoils away from him to launch two mouth claws that slice him across the left bicep and right quadriceps.
Taking in a quick breathe Orin leaps forward then plants heavy on his feet and pulls his axe back as the Largblat launches all four mouth claws his direction. Leaping sideways to intersect the first claw Orin uppercut swings to completely severe the claw a meter from the tip. The second claw reflects off his scale hauberk as the third Orin easily sidesteps but carries himself into the fourth claw that leaves his left arm stinging as the Largblat retracts its claws back into its mouth.
Feeling the warm blood pump down his arm Orin quickly looks to see three, two inch deep gashes across his right bicep and ending mid point of the tricep. Placing his right leg back with his left out in front of him, Orin readies himself. Shifting his torso and bringing his greataxe slightly above his right shoulder, he explodes forward from this stance.
The Largblat slithers and coils to a defensive position for the charge and opens its large mouth as two claws fly from it. Orin anticipating the attack dips under the first claw as it flies over his right shoulder. Then with agility and grace of someone half his weight, strafes sideways and jumps off one leg to cleanly severe the claw only a meter from the Largblats mouth. As the clawless stalk retracts, the remaining mouth claw shoots out hitting Orin mid chest, and stopping all of his momentum.
Stunned and grasping for breath Orin can feel himself being drug toward the opened mouth. Leaning heavy into his heels now the stout Orin tries to anchor himself down. But the remaining mouth claw stabs through the scales of his hauberk as he feels the points of the claws in his lower back. Desperation stricken in his eyes, Orin frantically stabs his axe into the ravines floor trying to stop this slow drag to death.
With strength fading from loss of blood the grey skinned Orin is losing precious ground. Within half a meter the Largblat’s jaw begins to unhinge in anticipation of its stout prey. Closer and closer Orin can see how he will end, how this foul creature hunts, consumes large prey, and how its legs plant heavy into the ground so its mouth claws can pull you in. Then Orin the grey stops straining. Stops resisting altogether. Allows himself to be pulled and takes two quick strides. The quick change of direction adds to his momentum as he leaps now, pulling down with all the strength he has left.
With all the momentum, and all the energy transferring through his arms to the curved blade of his greataxe. Burying the prized axe deep into the top jaw, stopping just short of splitting the Largblats yellow eyes. The creatures legs give out as it tries to recoil away. Orin the grey quickly gains his feet, spinning wide with his axe trailing, he connects heavy into the neck. The small scales split as the axe head becomes lodged into the spine of this dragon like creature.
Stepping away from the beast Orin is gripped with pain. But its not just pain that his body is fighting, but poison. Each mouth claw has enough poison to kill four swamp ponies and Orin has taken multiple stabs and slices from this foul beast. The waves become stronger and more intense, but the sun cresting the horizon has Orin looking for a place to hide himself from the suns harsh rays. Seeing a small overhang in the ravine Orin the grey sprints for it.
Sitting amongst the dirt with scattered rocks and under the lip of the overhang the waves begin to take his body and mind. Unable to move and struggling with blurred vision Orin sees a wavy silhouette closing in as the darkness consumes him.