R. Salvatore - Night of the Hunter

Entreri caught his descending sword and rolled aside, far from the tumble as the beast thrashed crazily in its death throes, the jeweled dagger’s hilt still sticking like a unicorn’s horn from the top of its head.

Entreri took a deep breath and tried to reorient himself, turning back to view the battle. A quick glance to the side showed him his nightmare and the other yeti locked in a death grip, smoke and blood and torn hair all around them. The nightmare had been pulled down to its front knees, but bit hard at the yeti’s arm as the beast clamped around the steed’s head, trying to twist its neck apart. Entreri rushed to retrieve his dagger from the now-dead beast, thinking to go to the nightmare while the yeti was so vulnerable, but a horrid cry sounded from behind, demanding his attention.

He whirled around to see another of the yetis, the one on the same side of the trail as he, frantically thrashing around, tearing its own skin with its claws as spiders climbed out of a gaping wound in its belly. Entreri had witnessed Effron’s handiwork before, and he held faith that this yeti, too, was out of the fight for the time being.

He scanned out toward the center of the trail to see Afafrenfere in full retreat, a yeti in close pursuit.

Entreri yanked his dagger free and started out to help his companion, but before Entreri had gone two steps, the monk cut before one large boulder and as the yeti crossed it in pursuit, a form materialized from out of the rock.

Ambergris, her melding spell ended, came out swinging. She had both hands on Skullcrusher, her huge mace, and it was obvious that she had seen the yeti coming from within her meld with the rock, for the level and angle of her sidelong swipe was perfect, sweeping across to crunch the yeti’s knee and sending it sprawling to the ground.

Clearly anticipating the move, Afafrenfere was already turning, and was fast back to the spot, leaping with a double knee drop onto the back of the prostrate yeti’s head. The monk sprang up and stomped again, then leaped out before the yeti as it started to rise, demanding its attention.

And so the beast never saw Amber coming as the dwarf landed on its back and executed a tremendous overhead chop with Skullcrusher, the weapon once more living up to its name.

One on one, Dahlia figured she might have a chance against a tundra yeti, even though her weapon was not particularly effective against their tough hides and thick bones. When the second beast climbed back to its feet and came forward, though, the elf woman knew that she was in trouble.

She banged her staff against the stone before her nearest opponent several times in rapid succession, building a charge, then thrust it out against the returning yeti and released the energy, driving the monster back a couple of steps.

Dahlia thought to turn and flee. Indeed, she started to do just that, but then another form materialized before her-and behind the yetis-as her half-tiefling son slipped out of a crack in the mountain wall and became again three-dimensional. He was already into spellcasting as he reformed, Dahlia noted, so she redoubled her efforts at holding the yetis in place with a series of jabs and sweeps of Kozah’s Needle.

A cloud appeared, sickly green and steaming with putrid aromas, its stench forcing Dahlia back, though it was not aimed at her. It sat in place up above and in front of her, engulfing the heads of the tall beasts. Their arms flailed more at the gases than forward at Dahlia. She heard them choking, half a roar and half a cough, though she could no longer see much of their heads within the steamy, opaque veil of the spell.

Dahlia fell back another step, broke her staff into a tri-staff and sent it into a spin. Clutching the middle pole, she launched into a twirling dance, exaggerating her movements to enhance the spinning flow of the outer poles. Her hands lifted and thrust alternately on the center pole, angling the spinning side bars to crack against the stones and occasionally against each other, throwing sparks that were immediately gobbled up by the enchantment of Kozah’s Needle.

Within the stinking cloud, the yetis flailed. One finally found the good sense to duck low out of the gases, but when it came clear, it began to jolt and roar and twist all around-behind it, the warlock sent forth black bolts of stinging magic. The whole of the beast burst into flame then, magical darkfire eating at its flesh and hair.

Down that yeti went, streams of smoke rising. The second came forth, though, from the cloud, tumbling over the rock, its chin and chest covered in vomit, but with claws stubbornly raking at Dahlia.

She got in a hard blow, and let forth her lightning burst to doubly sting the beast. She dropped her hands to the outermost pole and twirled the other two around, whip-like, gathering momentum and speed, then snapping it like a biting snake, again and again as the beast stubbornly rose up on its hind legs once more.

She felt as if she were beating the dust from a hanging tapestry, and so doing no real damage to the tapestry itself!

Dahlia cursed and wished for a broadsword.

She cursed some more when the second yeti stood once again, still burning and smoking, but no longer bothered, it seemed, by the roiling putrid cloud. When it, too, came forward, moving between the rocks, the elf woman began her retreat, her nearest opponent pacing her, the second closing in.

But not closing in on her, she only realized when that trailing yeti scraped a clawed paw across the back of her opponent’s head, and when the leading beast spun around to react, the second leaped upon it, bearing it to the ground.

Dahlia fell back, unable to decipher the riddle-until she spotted Effron once more, moving around the putrid cloud and the stones, his bone staff extended, the eyes of the staff’s skull glowing red with inner fire. She figured out then that this second yeti was quite dead, and in death, it served Effron!

Her son had done this.

She watched, mesmerized, overwhelmed, half-proud but more than half-horrified.

The otherworldly shriek of Entreri’s nightmare broke that trance and had Dahlia spinning around to see Amber and Afafrenfere standing around another dead yeti. Another beast, still alive, retreated back to the north and tore at its stomach as it went, a trail of spiders crawling behind it in pursuit. And finally, to see Entreri bashing in the skull of the yeti in the middle of the trail, the first of the beasts to appear, as it continued to twist and tear at the throat of the nightmare. The hellsteed now lay on its side, beginning to dissipate into black nothingness.

Amber and Afafrenfere rushed up to join Dahlia, and all three turned to regard the nearby struggle. Effron’s zombie seemed no match for the living yeti, but it served to keep the beast engaged as Effron once more began to throw his blackfire magic. The living yeti finally managed to extract itself, the zombie falling still, quite destroyed, but the wounded beast had no more heart for the fight, obviously, and it ran off to the north, one last bolt of energy reaching forth from the warlock’s bone staff to bite at it as it fled.

“Formidable,” Afafrenfere remarked as Entreri finished off the last of the enemies.

“Thank you,” replied the warlock.

“All of us, I mean,” said the monk. “A capable band of five.” Effron just chuckled as he walked past the trio.

“Let us not tarry,” Entreri called out to them. “Let us be far from this place before those two return, and likely with more friends.” He ended by leaping to the side, in seeming alarm, and his motion and gaze had Dahlia, the monk, and the dwarf beside her turning fast.

The yeti Amber had killed stood up once more, brains dripping from the back of its exploded skull. It lumbered after Effron as he went on his way to the far side of the trail. A moment later, the eyes of the tiefling’s bone staff flared yet again and the yeti Entreri had killed by the wall shifted and stiffly rose to its feet.