Toran of Mohenia

Chapter 1 - The Hunted

Something in the darkness moved, he was sure of it, but he didn\'t know what. He couldn\'t see or hear anything. Call it instinct or intuition, but he could sense it. There was something there. It was a dark night, and even though it was well past midnight, the moon would not rise for another couple of hours and the cloud cover had completely blocked out the stars.

Toran was not easily started, actually quite the opposite. He was only 17, but already an accomplished hunter and tracker. His uncle Faranel, who was the best bowyer in the region , had insisted that he learn to use the bow when he was quite young and had taught him well. Toran was at home in the woods and he really enjoyed these hunting trips with his childhood friend Beck. This was the third day of their hunt and had already had considerable success.

The hunt had gone well, but tonight Toran was unsettled. He couldn\'t put his finger on it. Something was wrong but he didn\'t know what. He could feel something in the back of his mind, and it wasn\'t right. He had given up sleep over an hour ago, and has since been staring into the darkness, looking for what? Now, he could feel it coming closer, watching, searching... The hair on the back of his neck and arms was now standing on end. His heart began to pound. “It\'s nothing”. He tried to assure himself, but he knew better. He could feel it out there and knew it was coming. Trying to calm himself he closed his eyes, looking inward, listening, sensing, feeling. With his eyes closed, within his thoughts, he began to reach into the darkness. At first there was only emptiness, but then he felt it, there was something, something savage. He sensed something there and it startled him. His eyes jolted open and his heart was racing. “Come on Toran, Get a hold of yourself” he mumbled to himself. Still he could see or hear nothing, but what had he felt?

Gathering himself, he stared into the trees, and listened again. Nothing. Slowly, purposefully he notched an arrow and closed his eyes again. There was nothing. He could feel nothing, hear nothing see nothing. Trying to relax his mind, he felt deeper into the darkness, and there it was again. At first it wasn\'t much, but as he concentrated, he could feel it. It was savage and hungry; and it was coming. In his mind he could feel it, almost as if he were a part of it. He felt each muscle tense ready to attack. Slowly moving forward, then it paused.. and exploded in a sudden surge of strength so powerful Toran felt the energy surge through his own body. Instinctively he snapped the bow up, drew and let his arrow fly. As he jerked his eyes open, his thoughts pushed the arrow toward the beast. Just as his eyes opened a shape formed about 20 feet away, wild eyes, and teeth. It was huge and it was coming at him. With a paralyzing snarl, the wolf came directly at Toran faster than he could react. As they collided, Toran felt a searing pain in his shoulder and was knocked to his side, and rolled. Adrenalin took over and as he rolled, he saw the beast roll past him, and he notched another arrow and came up to his feet. Now 15 feet way, they came face to face. The wolf was snarling, but came no closer. Toran could now see his arrow, it had hit it\'s mark, in the right breast of the great animal. Snarling, It\'s eyes were starting to glaze over and it dropped to it\'s knees. In a last act of defiance, the wolf attempted a lung at Toran, but his great heart had been pierced. As the wolfs chest filled with blood, Toran could feel the life drain, and then it was gone. Stunned, Toran sank to his knees, eyes still on the wolf. Only then did he notice Beck, standing about 20 feet away to the right, eyes wild, with a large hunting knife in his hand. “Are you OK?” Beck yelled? Toran could only nod, still numb from the encounter.

“That has got to be the biggest wolf I have ever seen.” Beck said, approaching the wolf. As Toran tried to get to his feet again, he stumbled. Only then did Beck notice the gash in his shoulder, and a stream of blood that had now spread down the side of his coat. Beck raced to his side and helped him back to the fire pit. “Stay there!”, he ordered as he stoked up the fire and then examined Toran\'s wound. Two long gashes had been torn through Toran\'s shoulder. They were serious, but not life threatening. Beck cleaned the wound, and using a thin strip of sinew sewed the flesh together and packed the would with numbing weed. Now utterly exhausted, Toran fell asleep quickly. He slept for several hours while Beck cleaned the wolf and scraped the hide.

When Toran awoke the next morning, Beck already had their breakfast cooking over the fire. Fresh wolf stakes. Not the best meat, but it didn\'t sell as well as the venison would sell much better, so today they ate wolf. The hide however, would sell very well, especially one of this size. Toran went to the fire and using his good arm, took a cut of meat from the spit. “As dark as it was last night, you must have the eyes of a cat to have made that shot.” commented Beck. “My eyes were closed”. Toran replied. “Sure they were!”. “No, really they were!” Toran insisted. “Toran, the head of your arrow, nearly cleaved his heart in two. I\'ve never seen anything like it. There\'s no way you made that shot with you\'re eyes closed” Beck challenged.

Toran and Beck had been friends since they were very young. They had grown up together and spent almost every free moment together. The both loved to shoot and were excellent marksmen. Toran had the “touch” as Beck had once put it. The previous fall, Toran had won the shooting tournament at the harvest festival. To everyones surprise, Toran had out scored the other two finalist, one the captain of the archers from Benden Hold, and the other, a reclusive mountain man known only as Koff. The former was furious at his loss and all but accused Toran of cheating. The latter, Koff, simply tipped his cap to Toran as he walked away.

Toran began, “I don\'t know what happened, it was so strange. I couldn\'t see or hear anything. I could just feel something was out there. When I closed my eyes I could feel it in the darkness. Does that make any sense?” “Not really!” Beck responded. “But I think you\'re losing your mind. I\'ve always said that you\'re half gone anyway..” Beck\'s favorite past-time was prodding Toran to get a rise out of him, and apparently this injury was not going to get him any slack. Toran responded in kind: “Well, at least I have one to lose!”

After breakfast, they agreed that they should head back. With Toran\'s shoulder injured like it was, they decided it wise to end the trip and get their bounty back home. It had been a successful trip so neither was too disappointed at the prospect of getting home to a warm meal and soft beds. Toran helped Beck load the horses as best he could and they began the trip home. They knew these mountains well and had been in this area many times before. Even so, it would still take them at least a day or so to get home. As they both mounted their horses, they double checked their bows and knives. Normally Toran traveled with his bow unstrung, but after the encounter of the previous night, they both felt more at ease keeping their bows strung. For a while, the going was easy, but as the day wore on, the constant plodding of the horse began to take it\'s toll on Toran\'s shoulder. He was grateful when Beck suggested they take a break at noon. His shoulder was throbbing and he needed a rest. “You need to drink more water. You\'ve lost quite a bit of blood from that”, said Beck, pointing at his shoulder. “Here, eat some of these too, they\'ll keep you\'re energy up”. “I\'m not a cripple” responded Toran, “You don\'t need to keep pandering me!”. “Someones got to! It\'s not like you\'ve got enough sense to get out of the way of a charging wolf.” Chuckling, Toran suggested they get moving. He wanted to ask Toran about the wolf, but he thought better of it sensing Toran wasn\'t in the mood for talk.

About an hour later, as they rounded a bend, Toran though he saw some movement along a ridge above them. He paused and watched it for a few minutes, then dismissed it as fatigue. However, as the day drew on, he began to get an uneasy feeling. It was however, a much different feeling from the night before. There wasn\'t the previous feeling of foreboding danger as before, but more simply the feeling of being watched. Several times he tried to shake it off but it kept returning. For Toran, the trip home was taking twice as long as it had before. He was still tired from the night before and the throbbing in his shoulder was making him miserable. Despite this, they made good time that day and as darkness loomed, they entered the valley of Devinshire. They were nearly home.

It was dark when they finally arrived at Faranel\'s cabin. Faranel was just finishing his dinner. “Well well, the great hunters have returned” he said as they entered the cabin. Noticing Toran\'s wound, he rose and asked what happened. While Faranel set out plates and some food, Toran an Beck took turns giving their accounts of the trip. When they told of the wolf, not wishing to try to explain something he didn\'t understand himself, he left out much of how he sensed and shot the wolf. When they had finished, the two hunters unloaded their animals and climbed to the loft and promptly fell off to sleep.