The Hallow Encounter
Posted: January 10th, 2019, 2:53:52 am
Yeah, I know it's out of season, but I've been bouncing this story around my mind since the first time I saw one of the Hallowjack sprites and read its description. So yeah, this is technically a Halloween themed story but oh well. Doesn't mean I can't share it. This is just part one for now. I hope y'all enjoy it. 
And please be gentle with the critiques. I have had some bad experiences with people tearing apart my fan-fics on another site in the past which makes me very hesitant to post them. I don't mind constructive criticism, just don't be "Negative Nancy's" please. Thank you.
The Hallow Encounter
It was a chilly, late autumn evening as Shamira was heading back to The Keep on the back of her Temeroso Pesadelo steed, Shooter. She whistled a cheerful tune as the stallion moved at a fast walk, just under a trot. She was coming back from a village just on the edge of Silva Forest. A new pack of Direwolves had moved into the area and the villagers were concerned about the boundaries between their homes and the pack. Thankfully, being a werewolf from the oldest and most well-established clan, Shamira had a very strong affinity with the lupine creatures which allowed her to settle the issue quickly.
The sun was setting fast but Shamira felt no need to be worried considering how fast Pesadelos can gallop. Besides that, their fiery manes were great light on dark nights. Shooter tossed his head a little with a flick of his ears, as if to say Shamira’s whistling was starting to annoy him.
“Oh, come now Shooter,” Shamira cooed with a couple pats on the steed’s neck. “I’m whistling in time with your hoof-beats so it can’t be that bad.” Shooter flared his nostrils with a huff, glancing back at his rider with a quiet nicker. “Oh, all right, all right. I’ll stop if it bugs you that much.” He turned his head back forward with another snort.
As darkness fell over the forest, Shooter’s violet mane turned a blinding white, lighting the area around him. It took a moment for Shamira’s eyes to adjust, but once they did she noticed a large patch of wild growing pumpkins in her periphery. She figured it must be the one the local villages used when celebrating the harvest festival. Unfortunately, this year’s festivities were about to be put in grave jeopardy.
Just as Shooter had passed the patch by, he came to a sudden halt, his ears twitching in all directions as he turned his head. “What is it, boy?” Shamira asked as she leaned her head down by his neck. She then turned her keen nose to sniff the air, but whatever had Shooter spooked must have been down-wind from them because even as sharp as her werewolf nose was, she couldn’t smell anything unusual. A stiff wind rustled her wavy, dark brown hair and she brushed it away from her face as her emerald green eyes scanned the area around them. She could feel the sensation that something was watching them, making her hair stand on end as Shooter shifted his weight from one side to the other.
“Easy, Shooter. Let’s move on for now,” Shamira said as she gently pressed her legs into Shooter’s sides. He walked forward cautiously, still keeping his ears turning like a radar as they went. They hadn’t moved far when Shooter, having heard a sound from behind them, pinned his ears back against his head.
Shamira turned her body around to look behind them, only to see glowing green lights stalking them just outside of the light from Shooter’s flames. She knew all too well the only thing that could mean; they were being hunted by a Hallowjack that must have moved into the wild pumpkin patch.
“Oh no,” Shamira said with a voice full of dread. “Shooter, where is the nearest stream from here?” Her mount pointed his nose in front of him and slightly to the right. “Okay, boy… on my signal I need you to kick it into high gear and head straight for the stream. We need to find a bridge to cross, pronto.”
Shooter tossed his head to indicate he understood. As the pair kept moving, the green lights followed after them, seeming to pace back and forth as it went, waiting for an opening to attack. Shamira kept an eye on the flames, not letting a single twitch in any direction escape her. She tightened her hold on the reins and tensed her core muscles, preparing for the neck breaking speed at which her steed was more than capable of going straight to even from a stationary position.
As soon as she saw the lights stop moving, as though the beast was preparing to pounce like a Temple Cat, Shamira dug her heels into Shooter’s sides and yelled, “Yah!” Shooter briefly reared up on his hind legs before leaping forward, kicking into full speed almost immediately. In that instant, they both heard the frightening shriek of the angered Hallowjack as it attempted to chase them down. The sound was something like a combination of a shrill whinny, a Gryphon’s screech and a Direwolf’s howl. Thankfully, though Hallowjacks were indeed fast, their speed paled in comparison to that of a Pesadelo, but that alone would not be enough to escape the creature’s pursuit. They needed to find a bridge to cross as soon as possible.
Lucky for them, thanks to Shooter’s speed, finding a bridge along one of the streams that snaked between the Alarse Mountains and the grasslands on the edge of the forest didn’t take very long. No sooner were they safely across it than Shamira pulled Shooter to a halt and turned him around. Hallowjacks weren’t supposed to be able to cross bridges, but if that wasn’t actually true continuing to flee wouldn’t do them any good. They would surely have to fight it off or at least trap it.
They didn’t have to wait long for the glowing green eyes of the Hallowjack to be visible in the inky black night. As soon as it approached the bridge, it skidded to a halt, pawing at the ground in frustration at having lost its prey. It paced back and forth, grunting and snorting in anger before looking at them and loosing another one of its bone-chilling shrieks. Shooter reared up on his hind legs with a loud neigh. He wasn’t afraid of this beast; no, he was challenging it, daring it to try and come at them. He kicked up dust as he mock charged at the other side of the bridge, to which the Hallowjack responded by rearing up as well with another cry.
“Enough, Shooter!” Shamira said as she pulled back on the reins to get Shooter to back away. “Stop being such a man and let’s go back to The Keep. We need to let Master Belmos and the other senior mages know about this thing before it kills someone.” Shooter shook his head as if to disagree, but Shamira was having none of that. She pulled the reigns tight to her left, making Shooter turn around whether he wanted to or not. He relented with another displeased snort, but he knew better than to argue with his exceptionally stubborn partner. “Good boy. Now come on, yah!”
She kicked Shooter into a smooth gallop at about half his full speed. As they approached the path into the mountains, they heard their pursuer let loose one last shriek. The dark clouds that had been blocking the waning crescent moon moved away as they crested the highest point of the first mountain of the pass. It didn’t provide much more light, but between Shooter’s mane and Shamira’s improved night vision, navigating the tricky mountain pass wouldn’t be much of a challenge. Nevertheless, Shamira suspected it would be close to midnight before they got back to The Keep, even if she let Shooter run full speed once they got out of the mountains.
Shamira glanced back over her shoulder toward Silva Forest one last time as she and Shooter reached the foot of the east side of the Alarse Mountains. The local villages would hold their harvest festivals near that pumpkin patch in just a few days and she dreaded what would need to be done with that Hallowjack prowling around it. She shook her head to get her mind off of it. "Never mind that now," she thought as she urged Shooter to gallop faster. "I can discuss that with the other mages at The Keep later… Hopefully we can figure something out before it’s too late."
This was only the beginning of her encounter with one of the most dangerous creatures known to the region. Rest assured, my fellows, this tale is not yet done…
And please be gentle with the critiques. I have had some bad experiences with people tearing apart my fan-fics on another site in the past which makes me very hesitant to post them. I don't mind constructive criticism, just don't be "Negative Nancy's" please. Thank you.The Hallow Encounter
It was a chilly, late autumn evening as Shamira was heading back to The Keep on the back of her Temeroso Pesadelo steed, Shooter. She whistled a cheerful tune as the stallion moved at a fast walk, just under a trot. She was coming back from a village just on the edge of Silva Forest. A new pack of Direwolves had moved into the area and the villagers were concerned about the boundaries between their homes and the pack. Thankfully, being a werewolf from the oldest and most well-established clan, Shamira had a very strong affinity with the lupine creatures which allowed her to settle the issue quickly.
The sun was setting fast but Shamira felt no need to be worried considering how fast Pesadelos can gallop. Besides that, their fiery manes were great light on dark nights. Shooter tossed his head a little with a flick of his ears, as if to say Shamira’s whistling was starting to annoy him.
“Oh, come now Shooter,” Shamira cooed with a couple pats on the steed’s neck. “I’m whistling in time with your hoof-beats so it can’t be that bad.” Shooter flared his nostrils with a huff, glancing back at his rider with a quiet nicker. “Oh, all right, all right. I’ll stop if it bugs you that much.” He turned his head back forward with another snort.
As darkness fell over the forest, Shooter’s violet mane turned a blinding white, lighting the area around him. It took a moment for Shamira’s eyes to adjust, but once they did she noticed a large patch of wild growing pumpkins in her periphery. She figured it must be the one the local villages used when celebrating the harvest festival. Unfortunately, this year’s festivities were about to be put in grave jeopardy.
Just as Shooter had passed the patch by, he came to a sudden halt, his ears twitching in all directions as he turned his head. “What is it, boy?” Shamira asked as she leaned her head down by his neck. She then turned her keen nose to sniff the air, but whatever had Shooter spooked must have been down-wind from them because even as sharp as her werewolf nose was, she couldn’t smell anything unusual. A stiff wind rustled her wavy, dark brown hair and she brushed it away from her face as her emerald green eyes scanned the area around them. She could feel the sensation that something was watching them, making her hair stand on end as Shooter shifted his weight from one side to the other.
“Easy, Shooter. Let’s move on for now,” Shamira said as she gently pressed her legs into Shooter’s sides. He walked forward cautiously, still keeping his ears turning like a radar as they went. They hadn’t moved far when Shooter, having heard a sound from behind them, pinned his ears back against his head.
Shamira turned her body around to look behind them, only to see glowing green lights stalking them just outside of the light from Shooter’s flames. She knew all too well the only thing that could mean; they were being hunted by a Hallowjack that must have moved into the wild pumpkin patch.
“Oh no,” Shamira said with a voice full of dread. “Shooter, where is the nearest stream from here?” Her mount pointed his nose in front of him and slightly to the right. “Okay, boy… on my signal I need you to kick it into high gear and head straight for the stream. We need to find a bridge to cross, pronto.”
Shooter tossed his head to indicate he understood. As the pair kept moving, the green lights followed after them, seeming to pace back and forth as it went, waiting for an opening to attack. Shamira kept an eye on the flames, not letting a single twitch in any direction escape her. She tightened her hold on the reins and tensed her core muscles, preparing for the neck breaking speed at which her steed was more than capable of going straight to even from a stationary position.
As soon as she saw the lights stop moving, as though the beast was preparing to pounce like a Temple Cat, Shamira dug her heels into Shooter’s sides and yelled, “Yah!” Shooter briefly reared up on his hind legs before leaping forward, kicking into full speed almost immediately. In that instant, they both heard the frightening shriek of the angered Hallowjack as it attempted to chase them down. The sound was something like a combination of a shrill whinny, a Gryphon’s screech and a Direwolf’s howl. Thankfully, though Hallowjacks were indeed fast, their speed paled in comparison to that of a Pesadelo, but that alone would not be enough to escape the creature’s pursuit. They needed to find a bridge to cross as soon as possible.
Lucky for them, thanks to Shooter’s speed, finding a bridge along one of the streams that snaked between the Alarse Mountains and the grasslands on the edge of the forest didn’t take very long. No sooner were they safely across it than Shamira pulled Shooter to a halt and turned him around. Hallowjacks weren’t supposed to be able to cross bridges, but if that wasn’t actually true continuing to flee wouldn’t do them any good. They would surely have to fight it off or at least trap it.
They didn’t have to wait long for the glowing green eyes of the Hallowjack to be visible in the inky black night. As soon as it approached the bridge, it skidded to a halt, pawing at the ground in frustration at having lost its prey. It paced back and forth, grunting and snorting in anger before looking at them and loosing another one of its bone-chilling shrieks. Shooter reared up on his hind legs with a loud neigh. He wasn’t afraid of this beast; no, he was challenging it, daring it to try and come at them. He kicked up dust as he mock charged at the other side of the bridge, to which the Hallowjack responded by rearing up as well with another cry.
“Enough, Shooter!” Shamira said as she pulled back on the reins to get Shooter to back away. “Stop being such a man and let’s go back to The Keep. We need to let Master Belmos and the other senior mages know about this thing before it kills someone.” Shooter shook his head as if to disagree, but Shamira was having none of that. She pulled the reigns tight to her left, making Shooter turn around whether he wanted to or not. He relented with another displeased snort, but he knew better than to argue with his exceptionally stubborn partner. “Good boy. Now come on, yah!”
She kicked Shooter into a smooth gallop at about half his full speed. As they approached the path into the mountains, they heard their pursuer let loose one last shriek. The dark clouds that had been blocking the waning crescent moon moved away as they crested the highest point of the first mountain of the pass. It didn’t provide much more light, but between Shooter’s mane and Shamira’s improved night vision, navigating the tricky mountain pass wouldn’t be much of a challenge. Nevertheless, Shamira suspected it would be close to midnight before they got back to The Keep, even if she let Shooter run full speed once they got out of the mountains.
Shamira glanced back over her shoulder toward Silva Forest one last time as she and Shooter reached the foot of the east side of the Alarse Mountains. The local villages would hold their harvest festivals near that pumpkin patch in just a few days and she dreaded what would need to be done with that Hallowjack prowling around it. She shook her head to get her mind off of it. "Never mind that now," she thought as she urged Shooter to gallop faster. "I can discuss that with the other mages at The Keep later… Hopefully we can figure something out before it’s too late."
This was only the beginning of her encounter with one of the most dangerous creatures known to the region. Rest assured, my fellows, this tale is not yet done…