by Shawn Bailey

Created on: September 14, 2010

Though invited by the town, the elders only smiled a knowing smile, and some laughed outright, when we asked of the offer.  The offer was to destroy the invincible Lakyree.  The reward was half the town’s gold.  This was a considerable amount, as the city had grown in the last decade despite the tales of horror.  In fact, the stories only brought more and more people who wished to see a glimpse of the beast.  The only problem was once you caught a glimpse of the beast, you were caught yourself.

Many a squadron of soldier and mercenary set off gallantly into the Black Forest and never emerged.  But we were different, my uncle and I.  We had talked to many adventurers before they entered the Forest and knew their plans of attack.  We knew where they entered, and from reports of their screams, where they died.  We talked to villagers on the perimeter of the Forest and knew many of the myths and legends of the locals.

We took the offer.  We executed the first part of my uncle’s plan flawlessly, sprinting three miles through the very corner of the Forest, only enough for the Lakyree to catch our scent.  The villagers said the beast would not follow us out of the forest to the place where we camped on the first night.  My uncle snored, but I couldn’t sleep.  He hadn’t told me the rest of our plan.

The next morning, my uncle ran into the forest with a long rope and a knife and sliced his hand, spraying blood everywhere, and then came flying out and telling me to run.  We ran for an hour and my uncle slowed from weakness and loss of blood.  I told him to stop for a minute, but he would not listen.  I noticed we were beginning to run through marshes and that the daylight, although the sun was still overhead, seemed to be dimming.  It was as if the murky waters were swallowing the light.

That’s when I heard the Lakyree.  It was far, far away, but its wail made my skin crawl.  We ran for another five minutes and my uncle grabbed me right before I was about to run through a small, indigo stream of viscous swamp.  He handed me the rope and took a vial from his pocket, squirting the liquids from the vial onto my legs and feet.  I know now it had masked my scent, but then I had been confused and frightened. 

He pointed to a mossy tree nearby and told me to climb halfway up and use the rope before it was done.  I didn’t

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