Closed In The Forests Of The Night

[Postmaster]

To whom it may concern,
•───────── [Date Goes Here] ────────•

"And so it is." Postmaster noted, a hint of surprise in his voice, "You've got eyes almost as keen as Sphinx, Æhti."


The two incorporeal travelers descended, though not, at first, to the monster's lair. Instead, Postmaster brought them down to the level of the dead moose, circling around it. Æhti found himself once more in possession of a body- of sorts. Though it seemed he had arms to move and mouth to speak, he was nevertheless incorporeal. This was the legendary trick of the Rakshasa, which was the envy of many an apparator- the power to speak and move and be seen and heard, but to remain invincible to nearly all the dangers of the world.


Truly, it wasn't hard to see why the strange cambions tended to possess such absolute self-assurance.


"Now look at this." Exclaimed the feline spirit, genuine delight obvious in his voice. The moose--itself a great and imposing creature in life--was ravaged, torn apart so grievously that its bones and noble antlers had splintered from the impact of the killing blow. It had been absolutely dashed against the trees and upon the rocks.


"Savagery... almost. Perhaps it is more accurate to say that the Felinog's brute strength is so incomparable that it shatters the world it interacts with. Imagine if one of its paws struck you or I; we should be so much paste upon the forest floor, our superior intellects and magic made meaningless."


Postmaster gave Æhti a sidelong glance. "Here is my plan- I will approach the beast and seek to speak with it. If it has been sated well enough from its meal, it may listen. If not, it will attack, though its strength is useless against me as I am now. I shall leave you the choice of whether to risk yourself upon a spell or simply to remain hidden. If you do die, I expect Velho will be most cross with me; but again, I do not presume to direct you."


Æhti felt himself dragged to a copse of trees near the Felinog's lair before substance returned to him. He remained well-hidden from the cat, and upwind, such that it was unlikely to spot him unless he left his cover. In the clearing ahead, he saw the shadows converge, and the great monster reared its head, peering with alarm and curiosity at the tiny cat forming in front of it.


"◉ ◎ ✿ ❀ ʚĭɞ ?"


Saol rang out across the glade, and the monstrous beast hissed. It slunk forward and swatted at Postmaster, paw smashing into the little black cat with enough force to leave a shallow crater and send bits of uprooted brush flying. When its paw withdrew, of course, the insubstantial Rakshasa remained entirely unharmed. He spoke again:


"❀ ✿ ❁ ꕤ ◉ ?"


This time, the beast snarled, its displeasure shaking the trees, and it pounced on the glade, smashing uselessly at the air. Postmaster sighed. It seemed this would not go as easily as he had hoped.

•══════════⊹⊱❖⊰⊹══════════•​

Yr. Obdt. Svt.
Postmaster

 

[Velho]

<notes>

Æhti was originally a bit worried when Postmaster began to make them manifest again; they hadn't yet quite located the cat and so he was concerned about potentially being vulnerable to it. This worry was soon assuaged, though, as he realized he was something of a shade. Somewhere between fully corporeal and not, he felt almost normal and yet still not quite there. He quickly deduced that like this, it was unlikely that he could be harmed, at least, by mundane means– and lucky for them, that was all a felinog had to work with.

And with this pseudo corporeality, Æhti moved to approach the body of the moose. It was an exquisitely grotesque sight– all bone and torn viscera. However, the young mage was not the right sort of person to really appreciate the beauty of such a thing. Indeed, the felinog was a beast of catastrophic strength.

When Postmaster next spoke, his commentary on the sight before them transitioned into stating his intended plan, and to it, Æhti would nod. From what the cat said, too, it sounded like if he wove a spell, this shade-like state he was in would break, making him vulnerable.

"I'll think about it– don't want to take any risks that are too unnecessary or the like," he'd reply.

Æhti felt the pull of Postmaster's magic again, beginning to move shortly after saying that, and then he found himself placed just out of the felinog's sight. The Rakshasa attempted to speak with the much meatier cat, but to no avail. It smashed with its mighty paws against the small specter, though to no avail– it appeared neither feline was getting what they wanted for the moment.

However, the big beast was amply distracted with Postmaster. Sacrificing the Aether efficiency from canting, Æhti would silently cast Inermanteia on the felinog, specifically targeting its limbs and core. The spellcast took a second or so, but soon the felinog would change from aggression to confusion and panic as its limbs became leaden and then wholly static. No longer could it aggress upon Postmaster; it'd be forced to listen, now, the only question was, would it?

Æhti didn't move, however, still hiding out of sight. He knew the strength of his own magic, but he didn't quite know the limits of a felinog. It was better to be safer in the ensuing moments than not. He intended to wait for a few more seconds to see how resistant it'd be.

 

[Postmaster]

To whom it may concern,
•───────── [Date Goes Here] ────────•

Postmaster became increasingly irritable as the huge cat rained blows down upon him. The huge paws smashed down upon the ground, hard enough to send turf flying and leave beclawed craters behind, and the huge beast of coiled muscle leapt about, bringing its weight around and striking from different angles. All totally meaningless, of course.


"Would you-"


THWUMP!


"-pointless, so if you could just-"


THWUMP! THWUMP!


"-just one moment-"


THWUMP! THWUMP! THWUMP!


The rakshasa hissed, his customary composure slipping into a rarely-aroused anger by the monstrous beast's insistence on batting at him. Though the creature's paws passed through his image harmlessly, it temporarily disrupted speech and vision both as the mass passed over his eyes and filled his mouth. The spirit's tail straightened as his annoyance peaked, and he considered simply dissolving into mist and leaving the temperamental titan in the dark alone.


But then the monster slowed. Postmaster blinked as assault grew more and more lethargic, then his mouth curled into a feline smile as he recognized the telltale signs of a beast afflicted with galdr. It seemed that Velho's young apprentice was as good as his word. He liked the lad more and more.


"◉ ◎ ✿ ❀ ʚĭɞ ❀ ✿ ❁ ꕤ ◉ "


As the felinog began to flag, the Rakshasa opened his mouth anew and began to Cant in the tongue of beasts and life, and the sluggish beast's movements eventually ceased to interrupt him. In the language of that primal song, Postmaster spoke of a wheel returning, of the time before the sun first rose and the darkness which would follow, of the endless cycles of birth and death which drove the dance of life throughout Ælheim and the whole of the world beyond that.


The felinog responded with growls, then grunts, then whimpers. The two cats seemed to emote at each other for several long minutes, then Postmaster spoke again in the language of men and elves, raising his voice so that the hidden Æhti could hear.


"This one has killed before, and many times, but he pays them little mind. Where the leopard's life is spent in the shadows of fear, and the glawackus' every thought and movement revolves around the hunt, the felinog's dominion is... casual."


Postmaster rose and walked around one of the beast's legs, which were scrawny for its frame.


"It is strong enough to splinter trees and shatter the skull of a moose. It knows little fear, for it strides the treeline like a titan, and the rest of the world must move for it. When it saw me, it hardly paused before it tried to kill me. Why not? A creature does not need to be curious when nothing else around it can compare in size and strength. But..."


The cat advanced up to the monster's face, which gave him a half-hearted snarl.


"...it's not sufficient to resist even a single spell. Yes, I can sense the flickering embers of that raw strength, but it is a wholly illusory invincibility. Felinog, you are so much less than you could be."


The felinog, of course, did not reply, for Postmaster was not speaking in the tongue of beasts. The Rakshasa climbed around and about the monster, sniffing and letting out little "Hms" and "Ah" noises.


"Well, there's something there, but only just. I shall never make progress with specimens like this. Æhti, anything you'd like to ask?"

•══════════⊹⊱❖⊰⊹══════════•​

Yr. Obdt. Svt.
Postmaster

 

[Velho]

<notes>

Æhti remained hidden for a few additional moments, obfuscated behind the rocky outcrop. He waited until he heard Postmaster's canting to peek out again, and when he did, he saw that the beast hadn't been able to resist his spellcast at all. This shouldn't have been surprising to him, master that he was, but a felinog was an imposing thing and rationality was easily lost in a panic.

And when the much smaller cat shifted from speaking beastsong to something he could actually understand, Æhti emerged from his hiding place to approach the now placid behemoth. Velho's captured felinog had lost much of its innate aggression, influenced by the garden of carefully chosen flora that'd been woven 'round its enclosure and calmed further by the elder ælf's own Animism– it was almost surreal to see a truly wild one again.

When the Rakshasa turned to him, "...I felt a flicker of resistance against my magic, but its willpower was nowhere near enough to quash my Aether."

And after a short pause, "...though to be fair, almost nothing is without the aid of a strong Abrogation in one form or another." And though his words might've sounded braggadocious on their own, his tone was sheepish, almost as if he were hesitant to talk up his prowess despite the fact that he would be very valid in doing so. Especially among the Fælnir, mastering any Arcana was no small feat.

"Still, shame there's naught but a spark of whatever it is you're looking for." Part of the boy really did feel bad he couldn't be more help towards whatever Postmaster's ultimate scheme here was.

And after another short pause, "...ask after the most formidable creature it's faught in the past, whether it ultimately felled it or not. I'm curious to know if it's come across anything it'd deem as stronger than itself."

 

[Postmaster]

To whom it may concern,
•───────── [Date Goes Here] ────────•

"Oh my, now that is a good query." Postmaster sounded genuinely delighted with Æhti's suggestion; and although the spirit was prone to unpredictable mood swings, he was normally reserved enough that you wouldn't call him 'delighted'. The cat returned to staring down the much larger beast, singing soft Saol into his face until the great creature was forced to reluctantly growl out a response. The monster's muscles continued to twitch as it fought instinctively against the bonds of Æhti's spell- but as Postmaster had lamented, size and bestial strength gave one no particular ability to fend off the chains of entropy.

"He's fought others of his kind, but only by posturing." Unsurprising, perhaps. For creatures with this kind of superlative regenerative ability, actually fighting was nothing but a waste of energy- even if two of these monsters sliced each other into bits, they would have accomplished nothing but becoming miserable.

These were apex predators, but that didn't mean they were unchallenged in their ecological niche. "Dragons, he's fought. Or dragon, perhaps- the nuances of the language aren't... well, they aren't. Probably a relatively juvenile wyrm. He says they mostly fly away when he notices them..." The cat was certainly large enough to take on even an adult, but Postmaster couldn't imagine it would have much luck against a mature wyrm at the height of its powers.

"And..." the cambion's eyes narrowed, blinking rapidly, "...well, that's curious. He claims to have been attacked by an eagle of some sort, larger even than himself. He says it tore him apart and left him for dead, but he did not die." The cat cocked his head, as though unsure he'd heard aright, "I've never heard of any such bird- and I am an expert, you'll recall. How can it be that there have been no reports? Enormous birds are not known for their stealth."

Postmaster began pacing, licking his lips as he mused, apparently distracted by this new information. He mewled more Saol at the huge creature, forgetting to translate for Æhti as he tried to get more information out of the creature. Sadly, it was not gifted mentally.

"Hmph. That's all it has. Well, now I've rather got my dander up. Perhaps the aelves have seen it...?"

•══════════⊹⊱❖⊰⊹══════════•​

Yr. Obdt. Svt.
Postmaster

 

[Velho]

<notes>

Æhti noticed the shift of expression in the cat, though he wasn't sure if such apparent delight was unusual or not– he'd not spent enough time with the other to have established that thorough of a baseline quite yet. Nevertheless, it was nice to note that his presence wasn't that much of a drag to the eccentric little Rakshasa.

The young Galdr was quiet as the two cats spoke in Saol-touched sounds back and forth, merely absorbing what information he could out of what Postmaster translated for him. And though the large cat's apparent fight with a dragon did intrigue him, what caught his attention more was the mention of a bird that would've killed the large feline had it not been for the felinog's abundant regenerative properties.

Now, Æhti was no taxonomist, nor was he a biologist of any sort. Whatever bird the cat was speaking of surely wasn't native to Hespæria, he thought, else he'd likely have heard of it– and he really couldn't think of any avian mighty enough to have nearly felled a felinog. Perhaps Velho might know? And if not, surely he'd have a colleague or two that would.

"I've never heard of such a bird, but my frame of reference is…quite narrow," he said with a nervous laugh.

"But you're right; surely the Æld'Norai would know– they've called the forests home for an untold number of years," the exact number escaping him.

"Velho by trade isn't any sort of veterinarian, but I've seen in his library numerous books cataloging the flora and fauna of Ælheim– perhaps he knows?" Æhti suggested, sounding hopeful enough.

 

[Vicissitude]

꧁══════════• ༺༉ { Reviewed/Canon } ༉༻•══════════꧂​

Postmaster

+30 XP (3k+ words)

Velho [Æhti]

+30 XP (3k+ words)

It can be assumed that they made it back to Själasalr safely. This was fun to write, though! Postmaster is such a charming character :3c

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