The Hunt Begins

“I knew I should have put that away…”

It was midday when Johan returned to what was left of his tent. The cloth top crumpled within itself as the wood and leather siding was strewn about the ground. Miraculously the stool avoided significant damage by being thrown into a bush just past the tree line. Dislodging it from its bramble prison, Johan sat down amid the remains to assess his situation.

Johan dropped his knapsack in front of him and pulled out strips of dried venison, a knife, a bag of dried juniper berries, and the gryphon feather. This was a technique he’d learned from his mentor as a young child to track wild game, mastered over his decades-long career. Whether it was a lone wolf or juvenile wurm, nothing is safe from Johan when he begins his hunt.

Peeling a strip of meat from the main bundle, Johan began humming a short tune as he crushed the juniper berries and rubbed the powder into the surface of the venison before flipping it over. Using his knife, he pricked the tip of his ring finger to draw blood into the quill of the feather. The makeshift pen now restored, Johan began scratching the word GRYPUS into the unseasoned side of the venison repeatedly, until meat looked more tenderized than writ upon.

Johan had received a boar spear from Captain Lac as part of the town guard’s support and took the opportunity to pull out a fishing hook from his pack and hang the meat off the pommel before stabbing the point into the frozen earth. Johan bandaged his finger with balm and gauze and gathered pieces of his former tent along with the bramble and stool together into a small bonfire. After lighting a fire using a couple furs as kindling Johan angled the cured meat right over the flames, letting it roast and burn.

Thick clouds of smoke started billowing from the pit, as the venison sizzled and sputtered while the wood cracked and cindered. The aroma of iron and pine filled Johan’s lungs as he held his arms over the fire on either side of the spear, pointing his body toward the forest.

“Jagd!”

The smoke stopped rising out of the fire and meat. Instead, it fell to the ground and began to carpet the snowy turf. As the smoke continued to pour out, shapes began to form out of the haze. Humanoid bodies rose as the smoke condensed into 3 separate entities. Johan first encountered Shadow People far to the north, deep within Gohlg. Despite their fickle nature Johan was able to indirectly study the magical nature of their incorporeal form. While these Smoke Scouts - as Johan has come to call them - are a mere imitation of the real creatures from his research, they have become invaluable when the quarry wouldn’t easily reveal itself.

The three scouts absorbed the remaining smoke as the fire petered out. Johan pulled the venison off the spear, now charred and flaking, and tossed it into the smoldering ashes. With a short whistle and gesture, he stepped into the forest in search of the beast. Two scouts flanked him from behind while the third ran ahead, its movement unaffected by the uneven terrain as it left a thin smoke trail. Expecting the scout to venture directly forward, Johan was surprised by the sharp turn left the trail made not even a hundred steps within the forest.

‘That’s heading back to Valdheim…’ He thought to himself, the realization slowly dawning onto him. He picked up the pace to a jog as he pulled out an ornamental eyepiece. Placing it over his left eye gave him mental sight through the vanguard scout as it raced across the undergrowth. Johan stayed close to the tree line for better footing as he kept the smoke trail in site.

The vanguard progressed deeper into the forest, prompting Johan to get closer to the trail when suddenly he lost vision from the scout. Without missing a beat, the smoke scout on the right broke rank and chased after the hunt.

SCRRRRRREEEEEEUUUUUUGHHHHHHH

The cry in the distance told Johan everything he needed to know. Giving a short, two-toned whistle, the final smoke scout chased after the trail. Johan, picking up his pace to a sprint, reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small ceramic jar, a gift from Mayor Bauer. He threw the jar directly at the ground as he ran, shattering it behind him. A loud chime ringed in his ear signaled the arcane alarm was triggered.

Immediately after the jar broke the second scout disappeared. The last mental image was a massive, feathered paw swiping from the right. The final scout briefly secured vision of the entire creature, as it plunged straight into the body with a flash of light. Johan’s mental sight cleared up, his eyepiece now showing him a faint glow in the distance.

Gods, I hope Lac makes it in time…

Johan followed the marked beast deeper into the woods. It wasn’t moving around nearly as much as when he began the chase, but it was steadily continuing toward Valdheim. He knew if he couldn’t stop it here, Lac and the town’s guard would end up searching the wrong area outside the town, endangering the rest of the citizens.

Johan found himself gaining on the marked prey as he found himself reaching a different clearing from where he set up his tent. Stepping into the open grass, he locked eyes with the beast. Despite the lack of wings, the gryphon before him otherwise matched all known descriptions across every historical account he had laid eyes on.

“Rrraaaaaaagh!” Johan roared at the beast, holding the spear over his head. The gryphon responded by standing on its hind legs, towering over him.

“That’s right, you throw rug, right here!” Johan yelled as he planted the boar spear and braced for impact.

SCRRRRRREEEEEEUUUUUUGHHHHHHH