The nearsighted Huntsman
The story of Sonjar
Sonjar had it good
Pack prime, huntsman, chief’s daughter, and the works. Life was good, the woods where good, and the wind was kind to his fur. He loved the attention he got from the pack but even more he loved the hunt. The sport of game was as much an award as was bringing home the meat. He preferred the use of bow instead of tooth; yes he was full of the old blood but taking prey wile on all fours just seemed too savage.
Besides he was just too good with his hands, at 6 summers he was able to take a squirrel in mid jump from a tree. His first buck came at 9 years and his once placed 4 shots into a charging bear before it even got near him. Yes his skills in the woods were well advanced and perhaps one day might even make him alpha lead.
Even when the goblins showed up in the forest he didn’t mind. They where easy prey and fell to his bow commonly enough and to be honest he loved the thrill of combat.
Yea it was all good
Till one day he was at the river fishing, yet something else he was good at (he seemed to be good at everything) when the screams came thru the woods. There was a horror to the yells that put speed to his rush to get there. No time to grab his bow or spear. Bursting through the underbrush he leaped upon the large black shape just as its claw was about to come down on the woman whom beauty was notable even in the blur of combat.
Notable enough to have him loose concentration and he was thrown from the the beast and smacked into a tree. Being fleet of foot he was standing and ready fast enough the thing gained no advantage. Barring his teeth he readied for his attack but not completely ready for what turned to face him.
This was no bear
The glowing red eyes and rotted deformed snout marked it as a creature with the dire disease. The white fluff of hair on its head formed to sharp spikes and the creature stood easily over 6 feet and 400 stones. Dark drool dripped from vicious fangs and a deep hiss came from it’s blackened lips.
He chanced another glance at the woman lying prone and wounded. No she wasn’t going to run away from it and he would have to fight this thing…and without bow or blade he had only one option left.
He let the old blood rush, the strange taste dripped in his throat and he let a battle howl burst forth as he changed form in mid leap to become beast himself his jaws snapping for meat.
But the creature was ready with an attack of its own. The dark spray soaked him as he changed form and coating both his bodies and becoming part of him.
It didn’t stop his momentum, it didn’t even register as the blood lust took him, his teeth clamping on the things neck and tearing flesh as he scrambled with his paws onto the things back.
The creature roared in pain and dropped to roll squashing Sonjar in the ground. He rolled away and back to his haunches and readied another leap with a growl in his throat.
The beast scuttled away twisting its head against the wound in its neck.
Heart pounding with the thrill of yet another victory he turns to the woman and returns back to a 2 footed form. He gets closer to her “It’s safe now, but you should come with me before the beast gets back” in the back of his head he was already reaping the reward from the beautiful woman he just saved
Her eyes widened as he approached her “you saved me…Gah!” and that’s when it hit them both. The smell from the creatures spray was putrid, and unavoidable stench worse then the sewer of a Mexican village where the Chinese buffet dumpster sits. You both retch and its enough to make her get up and run away screaming about freaks in the forest. He took two steps to give chase then the world got fuzzy. He was blinded and then life got really worse.
The smell would not wash, the pack would not even let him near, his eyes continued to burn and at times he could hardly even see his own fingertips.
He could no longer hunt game, couldn’t get close enough to get a shot he turned to a local shaman for help. After telling his story she told him the beast was a dire skunk that’s spray was poison and the blindness is probably permanent.
To fix the smell was no easy matter either, he had to be completely shaved of his thick luxurious fur that may never grow back. Then scrubbed daily with soucberrys, which in time turned his skin a pinkish hue.
To make matter worse his looks stayed with him when he changed as did failing eyes. And to his horror since he was sprayed when he was changed the blood surge and transformation brought the smell back only for a second but it’s enough to make everyone think of sun dried tampons wrapped in spoiled cabbage and stored in a dead orcs ass.
Just staying alive was a choir, having to live off fish and berries hardly able to walk fast let alone run unless he plows headfirst into a tree
He stopped living and started existing, trying to drown reality with berry wine, if got enough fish or fur from traps he would trade them for coin spent in the town’s inn for stronger drink from the elves.
The dam elf’s…once his friends and they taught him much about speaking and tracking, they tolerate his presence with their dammed loving and peaceful ways. And oh how he hated them for it.
He would call them names and insult them. Anything to get them angry…anything besides their accursed pity.
He would be done with them forever but they had the good drink.
It didn’t matter, nothing mattered, fuck the elves, fuck all of them, fuck the entire world for that matter
There was no reason to keep living, no purpose to life
It was time to die and be done with this shit.
He was ready for it.