R. Salvatore - Night of the Hunter

As surprised as he was, for the tundra yeti had blended perfectly into the muddy tail ahead, Entreri managed to hold his saddle, although only barely, tightly gripping the reins against his chest with all his strength.

The nightmare lashed out with its forelegs as the yeti brought its claws sweeping down, both monsters striking hard, both crying out in response-the yeti with a heavy grunt as the blow from the hoofs sent it skidding backward, the nightmare with an otherworldly shriek that sounded of pain, perhaps, but more so of anger.

The steed fell to all fours and tugged back against Entreri with such power that it almost flipped him forward over its head, and indeed, he smashed his face into the nightmare’s neck. He felt the warmth of blood trickling from his nose, and a wave of pain that again had him holding on desperately as his mount leaped forward to engage.

Entreri shook the dizziness away and, wanting no part of this monstrous tangle, threw himself off the side of the nightmare right before the powerful combatants collided. He hit the ground in a roll, sloshing through puddles and mud, and came around to one knee just as the area behind him uplifted in a spray of mud and stones, a second yeti lifting up from concealment, towering over the kneeling, seemingly helpless man.

At the back of the line, Effron spun around to see a yeti leap up from behind a boulder to stand high atop the rock. It beat its powerful chest and issued a great roar.

“Yell louder,” Effron quietly implored it as he lowered his bone staff and lashed out with a bolt of dark magic that shot from the eyes of the small skull that topped the powerfully enchanted weapon.

The ray hit the yeti in the belly, sizzling its brown coat, and indeed it roared all the louder, nearly falling off the back of the rock from the impact.

Effron, hardly about to wait around for the creature to regroup, cast a second spell, one he always kept ready, and his body flattened, becoming two-dimensional, more like a shadow than a living being; and the yeti roared all the louder, in protest then, when the twisted warlock slipped down into the ground.

“Where ye goin’? Amber cried out as he disappeared. Just before her, Afafrenfere joined Dahlia, the two sprinting off across the trail from the yeti Effron had hit, at yet another beast that had appeared between a pair of flat-topped rocks, each about waist-high to the monk.

“Wait, what?” the dwarf called, hopping all around, looking for Effron, who was gone, then turning to the yeti the twisted warlock had stung, which was clearly outraged, then turning to the pair running off the other way.

She chased Dahlia and Afafrenfere. Three against one, she thought, and liked the odds.

But then two more yetis appeared, one rising up behind each of the rocks flanking the trio’s intended target.

“Oh, by the gods,” the dwarf muttered, and she skidded up against a nearby boulder and cast a spell that made her sink right into it, melding with the stone.

“Find a strike behind my move!” Afafrenfere instructed, and he sprinted in front of Dahlia, fearlessly bearing down on the three hairy behemoths. He leaped atop the stone to the left, right before one startled yeti, and right beside the initial target.

The yeti behind the stone roared and swung hard, but Afafrenfere moved ahead of the blow, leaping above it into a back flip that also brought him above the reach of the yeti in the middle. That centering beast watched him rise, and so it didn’t take note of the heavy follow-through of its companion, and caught the swipe of the first yeti right in the face.

The monk landed lightly on the other stone, launching immediately into a circle-kick that smacked the third yeti right in the face. But even with that tremendous force behind it, the kick did little to drive the monster back, and it responded with a slash of its claws that had the monk diving back for the center of the trail.

The yeti half-leaped, half-rolled over the boulder, in close pursuit. So focused was it on the human that had kicked it in the face that it hardly noticed Dahlia rushing past it the other way.

She thought that a good thing.

In she charged at the tangled other two, leading the way with a straightforward stab of her powerful staff, Kozah’s Needle, driving its tip right into the torn flesh of the yeti standing between the stones. That strike alone would have brought forth a howl of agony, but Dahlia made it all the more devastating, releasing a blast of lightning through the staff.

With a crackle of energy and a puff of gray smoke, the yeti fell away.

“Hold them!” Afafrenfere cried from far behind her.

“Of course,” she replied dryly, as if in agreement that holding back two giant-sized hulking monsters would obviously be no problem at all!

The yeti, of course, thought it had the man helpless. Any onlooker would have believed the same.

Unless that onlooker understood the skill of the monster’s intended victim.

From his half-kneeling position, Entreri threw himself over wildly, spinning out to the side ahead of the descending yeti claw. The beast tried to keep up, stomping its foot in an attempt to pin him down or crush him.

But Entreri stayed ahead, and his sidelong spin turned into a forward roll that brought him back up to his feet. He broke aside immediately, dodging the lunging yeti, and whirled around, his momentum strengthening the stab of his sword, the blade tearing through flesh to nick off the thick rib of the beast.

With a frightening howl, the yeti spun around to face him.

But Entreri was already gone, out the other way, and he struck again with his sword, but did not plunge it in deeply this time. He stayed ahead of the turning beast, sticking it again, goading it around and around. And as soon as he seemed to become predictable, Entreri stopped abruptly and ducked low, the turning yeti sweeping its grasping arms up over him as he cut back the other way.

From the other side, he leaped up and drove his dagger hard into the yeti’s right armpit, the vampiric weapon slicing through tendon and muscle with ease. And Entreri let his magical dagger drink deeply, stealing the very life force of the huge creature.

How it howled!

It swung back violently, swinging arm clipping Entreri, who was already diving out and away, and the force of the blow helped him along as he put several strides between himself and his beastly enemy. He rolled back up in perfect balance and turned around, facing the beast.

In came the yeti in a running charge, but with one arm now hanging dead at its side. Entreri charged as well, and at the last second, the beast lunging wildly, he dived aside, managing a slash as the monster tumbled past. A quick turn had him in pursuit, behind the yeti, and he struck with sword and dagger now, chasing it and sticking it repeatedly, never giving it the chance to stop and turn back. His sword bashed against the beast’s remaining good arm, but Entreri stabbed with the dagger, poking little holes, inconsequential wounds except that with each bite, the vampiric dagger fed.

But then the yeti turned the tables back. It was gone so quickly it took Entreri a long heartbeat to even realize it had leaped straight up into the air. He ran past and the beast landed heavily behind him, and pursued him.

Entreri angled for the wall, knowing he could not stay ahead of this foe for long and in no position to try a blind and desperate dive to either side.

He could hear the breaths of the monster so close behind. In front of him, the mountain wall climbed high, barely five strides away.

But he didn’t slow.

Instead he leaped, throwing his shoulders back, running up the stone, one step, two steps, then leaping higher and inverting, back-flipping high in to the air. He threw his sword as he did, as high as he could, and he came over above the yeti, which had bent low to grab at him at the last moment. He crashed down atop the yeti’s back, legs straddling, both hands grasping his dagger hilt and all of his momentum driving that vicious blade straight down atop the yeti’s head. A boulder split asunder by a stroke of lightning would have sounded no louder than the crack of that skull, and the yeti’s legs simply gave out under it.