#ber-wyf

Unafraid of petty concerns like ‘vision,’ Rexx strode confidently through the empty network of caves, Ber-Wyf trailing in his heavy steps. Through twists-and-turns in the pitch black Rexx knew with the assuredness unique to those who had spent their lives in the dark and twisted caves that the chanting was emanating deep from within the tribe’s hive; pausing for an affirming breath, Rexx grimaced when he at-last recognized the voice of the chanter belonged to his tribe’s Shaman/witch-doctor, Blyt. The twisted half-man-half-bird stooped over a bloody altar, a sonorous chant flowing effortlessly from her stained mouth.

She did not stop chanting until Rexx and Ber-Wyf roared in unison, a warning wall of sound that rebounded like thunder through the cramped caves; facing away from the pair she shuddered at the sudden noise before slowly turning a stunned face on the bear-pair. A slow, eerie smile crept over her face as she recognized Rexx, and the bow on his back. A gold crown, set with glowing-red rubies was looped through a thong attached to a simple rope belt around Blyt’s waist. She hungrily gazed at the bow, delighted to see such a sap as Rexx bringing her more power even now close the apex of her domination of the shifter-tribe.

“WHY…YOU…HERE?!” Rexx demanded, indicating the stone vault door behind Blyt meant to contain the wicked weapons of the Tribe’s darker past. She took a short, irritated breath before starting to speak, but Rexx cut her off; “WHY…THIS,” and here, Rexx removed the Bloodclaw Bow from his back to brandish it at Blyt, “NOT…IN…CAVE?” Her smile broadened, an expression that would have unnerved a wiser warrior. As it was, Rexx failed to intuit the dangerous aura that had enveloped Blyt since Rexx had last left his home in pursuit of the king’s favor his clan’s leader tasked him with earning.

“Ah, the Crimsonmaw, and the Bloodclaw bow as well, my my, this is a fortuitous day,” mused Blyt. Rexx, still trying to work through ‘fortuitous,’ was silent. “Yes, this can work better than I had hoped. You there, bear-fellow,” Blyt chirped, pointing a bony finger towards Rexx. “You were sent to win the favor of the crown, yes?” Blyt nodded, encouraging the quick-to-follow Rexx to nod along as though he was keeping up with the situation. “She did say to make sure it was kept out of the coming war, and where better than in the hands of a simpleton?” This, Blyt said to herself, having long-ago trained the shifters to not perceive her as speaking if she wasn’t speaking directly at them. She seemed to reach a conclusion; “Rexx, you were sent away to earn the crown, but returned with a bow. How?”

Rex grunted before speaking, obviously struggling to condense a wealth of info into words that would fit in his brain; “……slay…evil…find…bow…in…dark-den.” The shifters of the tribe used the term dark-den when referring to a place they felt was distinctly, intrinsicly evil. Rexx glared hatefully at the bow, as he had been taught it belonged in the evil-vault where the ancestral weapons of the exiled clans were kept. “How…bow…out?” he managed.

“A crucial query, to be sure,” Blyt tittered, joy barely contained behind the words. “I’ll tell you what, Rexx, why don’t you give the bow to me and I’ll give you the crown. It’ll be our secret; the tribe doesn’t have to know you failed.” Rexx considered this, but not for long. Blyt had raised countless generations of the tribe and knew they would not be able to resist her commands. Her small, black eyes tracked over the bow, keen to wield such dark power in place of the lunatic ramblings akin to the cursed crown on her thong.

Rexx hesitated for only a moment before slowly stalking forward towards Blyt, the bow held in front of him as though he thought it might explode, or worse, speak long words. His eyes focused on the crown, obviously eager to complete the quest that drove him from his home. Blyt’s beak clicked with excitement as she slipped the cord out from around the crown to hold out to Rexx. He surged forward, clasping the crown between his electrified claws, dropping the bow at Blyt’s talons. Rexx stared blearily at the crown for a moment as frantic whispers called a warning to him just in time; Rexx donned the crown just as Blyt let out a maniacal chortle and dived for the Bloodclaw Greatbow, drawing the string back as a bloody-arrow coalesced into existence in her hands.

Blyt loosed a volley of arrows at the bear-pair, but was stunned to find a wall of ice preventing them from burying in their marks; Rexx stood, arms outstretched, as power flowed from his form giving shape to the wall of thickening ice. Blyt let out a shriek of fury as she slashed her hand at the barrier, dismantling the energies as they poured from the crown. A voice shouted for Rexx to run, and he and Ber-Wyf turned to bolt for the enterance to their cave with Blyt in enraged pursuit.

Rexx leered down at his hands as he and his wife ran for their lives. Something was desperately wrong with ice shooting from Rexx, but the harder he tried to think about the less he could conceptualize where the problem with snow came from; Rexx liked snow, and ice, and the more he thought about it the more he felt that his actions had been far from the evils Blyt preached regarding magic. And it was Magic, Rexx knew somehow. The crown carried great magic and he could feel it even now, pumping energy through his limbs, allowing him an expeditious retreat. Rexx felt as though his brain was burning, new words and thoughts and concepts surfacing like eldritch gods from the briny depths of his cavernous mind.

Rexx and Ber-Wyf reached the end of their cave, left looking down the jagged spires of their range they had so recently scaled. Rexx turned to face his foe, unclear on why Blyt had turned on them so suddenly, or why he had tried to run; Rexx had never known fear, or to run from a fight. He feared now that he was not alone in his usually-vacant head, and could still hear the maddened whispers just out of aural range. As Blyt exited the cavern’s shadows ghastly images swam before Rexx’ vision of generations of tortured spirits, the warped souls of Rexx’ tribe bound in unrest by the actions of Blyt.

Fury shook throughout Rexx. Blyt has betrayed your people, the crown whispered. Turned them over to the giants as slaves in exchange for her personal safety, it told Rexx. She is more powerful than any of you ever knew, it said. Rex crouched to charge her, disembowel her, slay her as all the tortured souls of his tribe called out for, but was immobilized; ice flowed up his legs, rooting him to the spot as even more encased his arms. I’m sorry, the crown whispered, you cannot win against her…yet. With his body almost entirely encased in ice, Rexx could scarcely espy Blyt as she notched more tainted-blood arrows into the cursed bow and loosed the missiles directly at the hearts of Rexx and Ber-Wyf.