In Search of Nibelungen part V

Excerpt from the memoirs of Eduarde d'Villiers, Nonus 1668

"....and indeed she truly had never seen anything quite so large in her life!

But I digress, the account of my exploits in Eisen during the Winter of 1668 would not be complete without a more full recounting of how I slew the dreaded She-Wolf of Heilgrund with the aid of my loyal friends.

So it was that my friends Franz, Dandelion, Giancarlo, Don Carlos d'unpronounceable, Pyorgi (who I must remember not to call Piggy), Pistol and I found ourselves snowbound for a second night in a porridge infested inn in the South of Heilgrund. Franz of course seemed happy with this development but I found my palate particularly badly affected, all the more so since Dandelion's usual supplement of delicacies had appeared to dry up.

Apart from the Inn Keeper and his wife, after the death of Wilhelm the Ostler, the only other regular residents of the Inn were the Cook and two scullery maids. But we were not the only travellers caught by the snows. A Vendel nobleman, a particularly belicose [and flatulent] Lord Galen was honeymooning with his lovely young bride, the Lady Irkuta. Lord Galen was accompanied by a very large walnut obsessed Vesten bodyguard, Eric Starkravingmad, two Eisen mercenaries [though why these fellows insist upon wearing red skivies never ceases to amaze me] and a weird, literally so, bard called Evingolis. Evingolis is an albino of indeterminate age and consumate musical ability but his patron, Lord Galen, onthe whole seemed rather unimpressed with Evingolis' considerable and evident skill.

After the events of the first night of the full moon, we decided to arrange things differently. Giancarlo and Pistol took Don Carlos down into the stable so as to minimise the risk of his detection should he change into wolf form again. Pyorgi announced that he would again assume the form of an owl [these Ussurans are truly crazy] and circle the inn should something amiss occur. Franz, Dandelion and I were to take up sentry positions in our various rooms. I thought for a moment that dividing our forces so seemed a truly foolish thing to do, but Dandelion, with his superior officer school taught tactics, assured me, as a mere NCO, that the enemy never expected one to divide one's own forces in the face of certain death and that this was why the ploy was so clever and unexpected. Ah, L'Empreur's reign will surely last forever with such strategic wisdom of the nobles of Montaigne to aid his deliberations...

Ambrose awoke me just after moon rise. I had been having a rather consuming dream about a petite and lovely ... ah but I digress again. Donning my best uniform and readying my weapons cleared my mind somewhat only to bring to my memory the horror of the time I shot the lupine Fritz the Tinker with my pistol at point blank range only to see the bullet ricochet through my best hat. Merde, I thought, I must look into whether or not we have a bullet mould so as to cast some silver bullets from these foolish little coins called Marks that they use here [what a truly stupid name for anything?].

But no time for that now, sadly!

As the minutes ticked by into hours, I began to think that nothing would happen. Then suddenly the sound of muffled pistol fire echoed distantly through the inn. Pyorgi immediately began a loud and largely meaningless owlish hooting, which if memory serves sounded something like, "Sonny's fallen down a cliff, quick get Dad," but I could not have been right in hearing that. When I left my room I saw Pyorgi flying out through the south facing window of the inn. Meanwhile out in the courtyard I could hear confused activity of running and scuffling with the odd throaty growl. For a moment I feared for my horse, but I knew that my friends Giancarlo, Don Carlos and Pistol would ensure that nothing untoward happened there.

As I waited for Dandelion and Franz to ready themselves, Pyorgi flew in
through the window again as if Legion himself was on his tail. Pyorgi flew up to the last door on the right of the corridor, where the two red skivy wearing fellows were sleeping, and began to hoot owlishly once more. Again I cannot be sure, but I could have sworn it sounded something like, "Two strange men are lurking near the hello copper, get Dad quick." But what a hello copper is, other than an Avalon with a distinct interest in Pistol's activities might be, I have no idea....

By the time Dandelion and Franz were ready, I could hear Pistol and Giancarlo coming into the common room downstairs. And so without further delay Dandelion, Franz and I stormed the door to the mercenaries' room. There we saw a sight of carnage and mayhem that will long haunt my dreams. The poor dead fellows, for dead they surely were, had put up a hopeless but doomed fight against whatever had slain them. Their throats were horribly torn but beside each of them lay a smoking pistol. From their mangled bodies, a trail of bloody paw prints led to the shattered window, the dangling shutters to which were mournfully banging in the rising gale of the wind as the blizzard outside picked up once more.

We spent some minutes examining the scene before the snow blowing in through the window obscured everything what little intelligence could we draw from the wreck of the room. As I looked out the window I saw a wolf with a white paw slinking back into the stables, which wolf gave me a most Don Carlos like toss of his head as he disappeared into the falling snow. I could not swear to it, but the wolf seemed to be undergoing a transformation as I caught my last glimpse of him.

Then behind me I heard the sound of a door shattering. Ah action at last I thought. And so I rushed back into the corridor only to see Pistol and Giancarlo breaking into Evingolis' room. After several bruises to Pistol and Giancarlo due to failed attempts, finally Evingolis' door gave way. I did not fully hear the exchange that followed, but a chastened Pistol and Giancarlo soon after emerged from the Bard's room. Apparently they had found Evingolis in bed, armed with a crossbow, and not best pleased to be so disturbed. Eric stormed out of his door and told us all to be quiet as his Lord and Lady were sleeping next door. When we told Eric of the mercenaries' death, however, he seemed strangely unmoved and simply closed their door.

With the blizzard rising to a roar outside there seemed little more that we could do that night and so we all returned to our beds. As I wondered whether Giancarlo would in the morning tell us all more outrageous lies about his liaison with the Lady Irkuta, I thought that I could feintly hear a jaunty harping coming from Evingolis' room just before sleep claimed me.

With the dawn came more snow and it looked as though we were trapped for another day and night... The atmosphere in the inn was even more tense than the previous day. Only Franz seemed unruffled - the proffusion of porridge and the imminent presence of bad weather induced monsters as always bringing a gleam to his cold Eisen gaze. The tension between Evingolis and Lord Galen seemed to steadily increase as Evingolis continued to work on a new comic tune which seemed to intermingle Vodacci and Avalon themes. Giancarlo mainly slept in his room having told us over breakfast more tall tales about his alleged nightly activities with the Lady Irkuta [I must arrange for him to have some real experiences with ladies to break him out of this fantasy world in which he lives]. My own day was busy as Pistol and I managed to smelt a dozen or so silver bullets, using Don Carlos' bullet mould which we had found underneath the kitchen sink carried by his sixth mule [is there anything that fellow does not carry on his caravan of mounts and pack animals?].

That evening, as the moon began to rise, we once more disposed of our forces as we had the night before. Dandelion assured me that whatever it was would never expect us to divide our forces so insanely for a second time. Truly the endless cunning of our nobles is above me...

An hour or so after moon rise Pyorgi again gave the alarm. A shutter was banging in the wind and something was amiss. Although I could hear a distant howling in the stables, I knew that Giancarlo, Don Carlos and Pistol would ably defend our mounts. Then much to my horror I could hear Pistol screaming from the kitchen downstairs. Fanz and I rushed downstairs to see a large manlike she wolf tearing at Pistol as he tried to bring one of his pistols to bear. Calling out "L'Empreur and Montaigne" I leapt into the fray, as I did so, drawing one of my own silver bullet loaded pistols. Behind me I heard the sinister "slip slop slap" as Franz donned his Panzerhand and drew his Dracheisen blade.

This bitch of a creature [literally and metaphorically] tore strips from the three of us [literally and metaphorically]. I saw Pistol get one shot off before he fell under the fury of rending claws and snapping jaws. I drew a bead as carefully as I could and fired my first pistol. I hit the creature squarely in her breast only to see her turn and go for me. As I dogded and wove about the kitchen, I drew my other pistol and fired. Again I hit the beast, and whilst she staggered, she was definitely not out. I threw my last pistol to the ground and unslung my musket [also loaded with a silver bullet] and fired but missed. Truly this creature moved with lightning speed. Now Dandelion and Pyorgi had joined the fight. My left leg was badly mauled by the creature and I may well have fallen forever had not Franz then struck a mighty blow, drawing blood but also the frenzy of this creature onto himself. This bought me a sufficient respite so that I could take Pistol's last unfired pistol from his unmoving hand.

'Please Theus', I prayed, 'may Pistol have loaded this gun with silver and not his usual array of trickery'. Dandelion then struck home with his puzzle blade causing the beast to turn again. This enabled Pyorgi, by now in manshape [as I say, these Ussurans are crazy] to grapple the She-wolf. Slowly the creature twisted and turned in the powerful grasp of Pyorgi, only a few inches more and her claws would be able to disembowel our valiant [if more than slightly crazy] Ussuran friend. With the She-wolf's movements restricted for these critical seconds I was able to step forward, take careful aim at her, and fire Pistol's pistol.

For a moment I was blinded by the flash of the flint and the smoke of the discharge. Then Franz, Dandelion and Pyorgi grabbed me in a group hug [this is something which is not quite my usual scene, but when in Eisen...], all crying out that the monster was dead! We then checked our fallen friend and found that, fortunately, Pistol was merely unconscious [as usual]. Though Franz and I were badly wounded too, we all thanked Theus to be alive. Then the dead body of the beast began to convulse... We all grabbed whatever weapons were to hand only to witness one of the most sickening sights of our lives as the She-wolf turned into the hideously lovely but defiled and most definitely dead corpse of the Lady Irkuta... At this sight, Giancarlo, who had by now come into the kitchen, promptly fled out again and we could hear him losing his dinner in the courtyard outside. That will teach him to tell lies about ladies, I thought!

Noticing the absence of one friend, I went in search of Don Carlos to tell him of our good news only to find the stable door open and several horses, including my own, horribly slaughtered by some carniverous creature. Obviously the work of the she-wolf Irkuta! Merde. Not again.....

As I was trying to clear up the muck, a naked but unusually elated Don Carlos crept into the stables. I have heard of the Vesten polar bear swimming club but this was the first I had heard of a fellow from sunny Castille seeking membership therein... Grabbing a cloak I threw it over the shivering Castillan. He looked at me with vague unseeing eyes and muttered something about a white wolf and some bargain he had struck. But then again, I have always regarded these Castillans as crazy, and with Don Carlos' fixation with the nonexistent Wolf Clan....

And so our tired but triumphant troupe returned to bed to reap the rewards that morning would bring. Then it occurred to me, Ah those poor sweet scullery maids, how frightened and alone they must be... It was time for my own particular blend of morale raising magic to be applied. And so for the rest of that night, whilst I got not a wink, I slept very well indeed!"