Grasp of the Pale

Destrus turned to face a beast three times his size. It was something almost humanoid, with dark, greasy fur and four thick limbs. It’s yellow eyes glowed in the lantern-light, and its fanged mouth was open wide in a roar.

Destrus recognized the beast as a grenwole from Mulo’s description, and knew that its blood was sought-after. He quickly dropped the lantern and grabbed his axe as the grenwole leapt forward with claws outstretched. Destrus ducked out of the way just in time as the monster crashed into the wall behind him. Turning and steeling himself, he prepared for the grenwole to pounce again.

With a bellow, the grimy creature sprang from the wall, clawing at Destrus. This time, Destrus was more prepared and gave the grenwole an underhand slash of his axe as it struck. Though he was scraped by its claw, the monster suffered a worse fate: its arm was cleanly cleaved from its body. It whimpered for a second as it clutched the gaping wound, but a thirst for vengeance drove the grenwole to swiftly tackle Destrus to the ground.

Destrus struggled against the weight of the beast, repulsed by the hot and pungent breath that came from its mouth. Though it only had one arm left, Destrus was pinned such that he had little leverage and no grip on his axe. Suddenly he caught sight of the lantern he had left on the cave floor, mere meters away from his reach. With a bold idea, Destrus found a burst of strength and squirmed from under his attacker just enough to grab the lantern. He smashed the thing against the grenwole’s hide and the oily fur caught alight instantly. It screamed, and Destrus used the opportunity to escape from under the foul creature and scramble upright. He brought down his axe over the grenwole’s head and severed it from the flaming body. Like that, the battle was won.

The grenwole’s fur didn’t stay alight for all too long, and the cave grew dark without the light of either it or the lantern. Destrus blindly fumbled through his pack to find a spare torch. Once he had restored illumination, he additionally pulled out several large vials and drained the grenwole of all the blood he could extract. This, he thought, will buy plenty of that sweet greymeat. Bringing his son back was something of an afterthought, as Destrus understood that it would take more than one bounty to afford such a miracle.

~

Destrus’ arrangement with Mulo proved over the next few days to be profitable for the both of them, and Destrus was content to continue his expeditions to the cave below. At first, he put most of his earnings away for the day he’d have enough to see his son again. The rest went to greymeat, which kept him feeling strong and ready for each day’s challenge. Mulo was happy to let Destrus stay in his abode so long as it meant steady revenue, and just as willing to visit the market on Destrus’s behalf.

Over the course of weeks, though he scarcely noticed, changes began to overtake Destrus. His complexion lightened with the passage of time, and although he felt stronger than ever, a certain gauntness began to cross his features.

More and more of his pay went to greymeat.

He had a hard time remembering how long he had been in the city.

His skin became bone-white.

His frame became emaciated.

He had a hard time remembering where he came from.

All of his pay went to greymeat.

What else would he spend his money on?

He couldn’t recollect a life before the Pale City.

A day came when Mulo chuckled in passing. “Mortals. All the same.”

...

Somewhere far away, Estelia weeps in mourning. Nobody has ever returned from The Pale.