Gaf was free at last. Free from the close confines of the barracks where they stayed. Free from the constant noise and gossiping of the other young adults in the Progress Quarter. Two years after the city of Progress fell meant Gaf was about twenty years old, and that meant they were past due to have selected a trade or craft to go into.
All of the other youth in the barracks had already started apprenticing in workshops, studying medicine, or volunteering for the Quarter guard by now. Gaf’s one saving grace was a package from the Landsman, who had noticed the young Iron’s tendency to wander the forests near the Quarter and sketch pictures of what they saw.
“Dear Gaf, This is an old Foresters guide I had lying around. The written descriptions are quite detailed, but I’d love some of your drawings as visual aids for a re-publishing. Feel free to add anything else you find out there.” was all the note on the package said.
Said package also contained the journal itself and a small request form granting Gaf some gear from the Quarter’s supply depot.
Now armed with a solid staff, some new boots, and an almost waterproof backpack to hold their pages and implements, Gaf set out on their new purpose and finally took a moment to breathe in the sense of freedom it gave them—right before something smashed into them from the side.
“GRBRAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!” bellowed the dark-furred blur of movement that now scrambled to stand up after they both had tumbled off the path into a ditch. Gaf’s training kicked in they had their feet under them and new staff in hand quickly. The… thing however was still flailing on the ground, in fact it was bleeding, badly.
Taking a moment to assess the creature, Gaf took in the sight of the thing. It was a decent size critter, black furred, tightly curled horns on its head and… spikes sticking out of it? Did something shoot this animal with a bow? It was then that Gaf saw the wounds, its back left leg was seriously mangled, and several lacerations and punctures marked its back side. Making a split-second decision, Gaf put down the staff and started to approach, hands open, while reaching for the first aid supplies they kept in their pack. The creature ceased its thrashing and baying, eyes locked onto Gaf for the whole duration of the approach.
“Easy, easy, let me help,” whispered Gaf.
“Brrraaaaaaahhhhh,” responded the furry thing, warily.
Irritated bleating aside, the thing let Gaf take care of its wounds, and once cleaned and bandaged it even stood.
“There you go little guy, all better, now what do we think happe-” Gaf was cut as a zed tackled them to the ground. Training did not save Gaf this time, and shortly they were pinned, snapping jaws and ripping claws shredded their body while pressing them into the frozen ground. Gaf screamed and yelled for help, knowing it was unlikely to come… until it did.
It’s a strange site to see a monstrous zombie go from strangling you to death to flying about 10 feet through the air.
A deep resonating “BAAAAAAAAH” sounded from behind where Gaf lay. As they pulled themself up and began assessing their own condition, they stopped. Where Gaf had expected to see the small critter they instead saw a much larger version standing between Gaf and what they now understood was a young one of these.
This older one had larger curled horns and, yeah, these were actual stone-like spikes sticking from the fur, like some sort of armor. But they didn’t seem to cause the animal any distress. Gaf had heard of livestock animals that were kept in the Oldest Port, but nothing came even close to these critters.
“Who ar- thank you, I would ha-” Interrupting themself they quickly spun to look for the zed that had attacked, fumbling for their staff they turned and found… two more of the dark-furred critters had appeared and were now taking turns bashing the Bursters head into the ground with their hooves. Turning back to the larger one, Gaf saw it investigate the wounded youngling, then it approached Gaf, who tensed and stood stock still. It lowered its head and gently pressed against Gaf, shoving them a few feet before it turned once more and started to walk away down the trail. At this point, almost a dozen had appeared and were falling in behind the now clear leader. As Gaf watched them go, expecting them to leave them behind, the leader stopped, and turned, giving a way too intelligent look before huffing and …. Indicating for Gaf to keep up, which they did.
Gaf spent hours with the small herd, and once they had stopped to bed down under the setting sun, Gaf immediately started writing out a letter. “To the Lansdman. I think I found something new you will be interested in! Also I think I just got a job as a shepherd? Or a vet, I am not sure yet, but I’ve made some new friends in the woods!”
COME AND MEET THIS MYSTERIOUS NEW CRITTER ROAMING THE WOODS OF THE OLDEST PORT IN FEBRUARY!!