Bear of a Task
Doroch Chromh | Hoarfrost Cliffs
They hadn’t felt the cold in centuries, but Doroch would still swear there was some sort of ache settling into the shadowy mass that passed for their body.
Perhaps it was merely a flight of fancy, their yearning for troll form affecting their mind now that it was actually in reach.
However, they had to admit being flesh and blood would make their current goal a lot harder to achieve.
The dullahan crouched in the branches of a pine tree on the edge of a forest, surveying the frozen cliff below. If they’d had breath, it would have billowed out among the green needles to drip off them briefly before turning to ice.
The armband was here, and it was almost certainly being kept by one of those overgrown balls of fur lumbering around below in the miles of land that comprised the Hoarfrost Cliffs.
Aralin had warned them about the bears, and for once, they hadn’t scoffed; though cold couldn’t hurt them and they were undead, the magic in the creatures’ elemental abilities could still do some damage.
A gust of freezing air whistled through the green needles, tossing their branch around as they gritted their teeth in annoyance, false ears flicking. It wasn’t as if they had any true weight to hold it down; their cape and clothes were made from the same shadowy substance as their body.
They looked at the sky, gauging the time; it would probably be better to do this with some moonlight, and they figured they had a few hours left of it before the sun started to rise. They had fae senses to help them in blinding light, but it would limit their physical sight, being a thing of darkness.
Bright enough rays shone right through them, as if they simply weren’t there. As if they made no impact on the world at all; no footsteps, no breath.
The dullahan closed their white eyes for a moment. Soon enough, they could live again.
They looked down at the bears again, considering how best to get the creatures away from their stashes - they’d narrowed the location down to one large den - for a considerable period of time. They didn’t know exactly where the band was yet; only that it was in that network of tunnels, likely buried deep in the earth.
Food might work. But first they’d have to get ahold of some. Or perhaps more valuables to catch their greedy eyes, though…the creature would certainly want to take it back to its den. Scratch that.
They could just make two bears - the one the den belonged to and and another brute - fight each other.
Doroch preferred that plan, on the grounds that it did some of the work for them and it weakened at least two potential enemies at once. It also meant they didn’t have to waste time scurrying about after anything else and potentially attract attention. They didn’t know how good these things’ senses were for detecting magical beings, even concealed ones.
Hence sitting way up in this - a giant gust of wind blew, tossing them back and forth - tree.
All it would take was a little bit of trickery and some patience.
The dullahan descended, floating back down as their green cape - incorporeal as the rest of their body usually was - rippled up behind the fae. A crying shame no one was here to see it, the effect was quite good, if they said so themself.
Now, they had to make sure they crept up on the things…
Doroch melted into pure shadow, a dark stain slithering around the forest floor, clinging to the dark spaces under tree branches as it avoided the light.
The beams didn’t hurt, but in this state, if they were caught without anything nearby to cast shade…the consequences would be dire.
They slipped near a solitary bear, pawing around the burrow of some smaller animal hoping for food.
They covered the burrow entrance in darkness; the bear squinted and huffed, its ears twitching in irritation. It backed up a few steps.
Doroch tugged at the shadows at the corner of its vision, making it swing its head back and forth, hinting and teasing at the shape of prey. A pity they couldn’t add in the scent of something; that would really get these brutes’ attention.
They brought down a small but focused veil of darkness over this part of the forest as well, giving the creature another incentive to move on, as it grumbled and growled.
They baited it toward their second target, creating shadowy illusions to keep it on the right track, even hauling a half-decayed pika carcass they found to lead it on as one would with a carrot to a donkey; what a stroke of luck!
They so missed being able to reanimate corpses, but this was almost as good.
Now, time to get the other one to cooperate.
The other bear was decidedly less cooperative, not responding to Doroch’s attempts to get it away from the rough tree bark it was rubbing up against to scratch an itch on its side, but once the other beast got close enough it sniffed the air and became still, small dark eyes narrowing as hostility welled up in them.
It growled, detecting an intruder in its territory, and began lumbering in that direction.
Oh, speed up, will you? Thought the dullahan.
But there was nothing for it; they had to wait for the two to cross paths, ensure they did, and then skip off to the lair.
The dullahan spent a very boring ten minutes or so counting icicles on the pine and birch trees as they waited for the two animals to get within sight of each other.
There was a brief, tense pause as the two massive ursines stared each other down, about forty feet apart. Then they both reared up on their hind legs, but did not charge.
Doroch groaned. What would it take for these stupid creatures to get on with it?
Wait. The pika corpse!
They’d shoved it in their own shadows to conceal it, and now they took it out again and hurled it to land evenly on the snowy ground between the two bears.
Doroch didn’t stick around as the animals finally went at each other, grinning in satisfaction as they turned into shadow again and wove through the darkness to get to the lair they needed.
The dullahan stood at the entrance, false ears twitching. Yes, this was it. They could sense the bracer…as well as a few other magical signatures.
This might take some time.
They glided down, down into the deep burrow, the tunnels of the den extending longer and further underground than they had thought they might.
They passed treasures of metals and gems, but not the one they were looking for; if they had been alive they would have taken some, but what good were precious things to them now? They couldn’t buy anything they could keep, or use.
No, best keep going into this dark, dank place that reeked of bear. They could have chosen to shut the scent out, but one never knew when smell might come in handy, and it was less of a distraction than it would be if they were alive.
They wandered along, listening, sending out the darkness as best they could, growing closer to their -
Small snufflings and whines came from not far away. Little warm bodies licking and tumbling over each other, their breath damp and carrying the same scent clinging to the rest of the burrow.
Oh bugger.
They heard a distant roar.
Doroch ran - well, not really, but they picked up the pace, not that they’d been dragging their metaphorical feet. They did the shadowy equivalent of sprint onward, accidentally slid past their goal, and then went back, the magical signature finally pulsing so strongly it was like a beating drum in their false head.
Cubs! Of course there were cubs.
Hopefully it wouldn’t matter - aha!
The glint of the bracer caught their eye. Barely there, nearly indistinguishable from the other items it was nestled against in the rock in a physical sense…but it shone with power.
Doroch paused. It wouldn’t be trapped, would it? Surely Aralin would have told them…
Then again, she might not.
They heard another, closer roar, and decided to grab the thing, shove it in a shadow, and safely dissolve into one themself -
- snuffling. Scraping. Cold, freezing magic slowing them down…
Oh these stupid beasts.
Doroch knew there was nothing for it. The thing’s aura was too strong and it had just caught them at its edge, slowing them to a glacial - ha - pace.
They gritted their shadowy teeth and knew the only way out was through, and the only way through was past a shaggy irate lump and its magically icy abilities.
The dullahan, thankfully, had picked up a trick or two from the other supernatural creatures they’d associated with since being made a fae, and they prayed like hell that one of those tricks would work now.
Rising out of the shadows, the undead shrieked almost as loudly as a banshee might, hard enough to hurt even a throat made of darkness.
Bears don’t feel fear. Or if they do, it’s not like sapient beings do; for them fear is always accompanied by an overpowering rage. They know damn well that even if they can’t win, they can fight, and they’re not about to let anyone forget it.
Doroch might’ve respected that had they not just been a hair’s breadth from icy, ravaging claws as the bear lashed out, stunned and clumsy but still with oh so much reach as it nearly took their false head as they fled back up through the den.
Throat burning, body freezing, the dullahan was more than happy to see moonlight again and flew up a tree once more, pausing to gather their energy again.
“Aralin.” They muttered when they could finally speak again.
“You better appreciate this.”
The wind rustled the pines’ needles, giving the undead no reply.
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