As soon as Ben arrived in Stoneburrow, he and Mudhead galloped at full pace across the frozen ground at the breakneck speed Mudhead could now attain. Themis had told him to scout the road and investigate anything that looked suspicious. So far, the only thing suspicious was a serious lack of anything. The fields were harvested but the little villages of three or four houses he saw were empty. He rode to a dozen farmhouses, checking inside and while they were empty of people, they weren't looted. Chickens had been turned loose to forage for themselves and he saw a few lonely pigs.
The area where the storm had raged was plain to see. Five miles from Stoneburrow, the ground went from frosted and frozen, to covered with a dusting of snow, and then increasing drifts until Mudhead was moving through snow up to his knees. This would be a very bad spot to be attacked. Wolves would be able to run over the hard crust that Mudhead was breaking through. Ben retreated back to the more open ground and found the road. Themis was not going to be happy with this. The heavy snow could be cleared, but would take time, something they didn't have. Winter would have a distinct advantage in this terrain. As if to prove him correct, he heard a long howl echoing over the snow, and a huge creature sprinted towards him, running across the snow.
It was bigger than a hippo and shaped like one, except for a long, fanged, snout, the envy of any Dread Wolf. Over twelve feet long and six feet at the shoulder, it nevertheless was covering the intervening distance very fast. Course brown fur and a heavy black mane protected it from the cold. Whatever it was, it looked hungry and wanted to make a quick lunch of Ben and his mount. "Time for evasive maneuvers, Mudhead." The pair turned and ran for a hundred yards, getting away from the snow and onto the hard frozen ground. The creature snarled loudly and kept charging at them. There was no question who was faster. Mudhead could outdistance the creature. Ben didn't intend on running and intended to find out more about the thing. Telling Themis, "It was big and snarly, and I ran," was not the report he wanted to give.
Rather than fight the creature, Ben would have enjoyed an afternoon spent with a northern sage specializing in creatures from ancient times when winter covered most of the globe. He would have explained to Ben a time of massive animals, giant bears, wooly rhinoceros, and tigers with pronounced fangs. Andrewsarchus was the apex predator of that time, filling its belly with all of the other oversized creatures. They were expensive to breed and keep, but Winter loved them and kept a few thousand frozen in a glacier, bringing some out to play when they ventured to the warm lands where there was plenty to eat. The name used by the northern sages was too long, and the Beastmasters called them Snarlfangs.
Ben and Mudhead began to flee away from the thing, running at an angle and maneuvering it in a circle. Luckily for Ben, Snarlfangs didn't turn on a dime, they were a ton of muscles and teeth, ill-suited for quick dodges or turns. It cornered by digging its hooved front feet into the turf and pivoting. Ben moved around it, forcing it to constantly turn, and when confident it couldn't catch them, began to shoot his crossbow into it. The small darts angered the creature but weren't penetrating far into its tough hide.
Switching to his whip meant getting closer but Mudhead could turn on a dime and had no trouble staying behind the creature as it circled in vain trying to catch up. His whip strikes did enough damage to break through the Snarlfang's hide, but it was the damage from Flaming Brand that did the most damage. The spell set the beast on fire, burning up 300 points of health every few heartbeats, and continuing for a minute. Ben struck three times, leaving three burning wounds that rapidly spread to the Snarlfang's course fur. It roared, sounding like a lion crossed with a pig and its eyes burned a bright red.
Oh, now you've done it! Didn't your friend, the Butcher tell you about killing something first before roasting it!!!
Snarlfang, Elite Level 19, has gone Berserk! (Increased speed x100%, Increased damage x 100%.)
Mudhead took the decision out of Ben's hands, galloping away at full speed. The enranged creature followed, trailing smoke and flame. Mudhead slowly built a lead and Ben drew his sword. The enchanted estoc was made for punching through armor, and this creature certainly had that. He charged at the Snarlfang, Mudhead dodging sideways at the last moment and Ben struck the creature, his sword hitting with the power of a lance, nearly being ripped from his grasp.
They didn't get away unscathed. Its attack had been too slow to score a bite but its teeth had grazed Mudhead's flank, leaving bleeding gouges. Ben immediately cast Triage, taking care of the minor wound before his mount lost more blood. The Snarlfang roared, pivoted, and raced after them. Ben tried to circle again, but the creature was too fast now. Only the wound from Glitterspark was still burning. He hoped it was stupid enough to fall for the same trick again.
Ben had to admit he'd be upset as well. "Yeah, that would spoil this little vacation." He didn't let go of Harmony for the next few minutes, mostly because he wasn't sure he could stay up.
She had a question for him. "I know you have a high-damage spell. Why weren't you using it?"
Ben had considered it. "It's also a high mana and high stamina cost AOE that heals my allies. It seemed like a waste to use it on this critter. We're walking into a fight, maybe a bad one, if this is the type of thing Winter has roaming around."
Alan pulled out a knife. "I can skin it for you quickly, and leave the head and claws attached. I think we should show this to Harmonia and the General. Make a damned fine winter cloak as well."
Ben looked at Harmony. "Need something for casual bar-hopping with a barbarian tribe?"
"I'd love it, thank you, Benjamin. You know the way to my heart.
Alan expertly skinned the beast and rolled it up. Ben touched his hand to it and stored it in his signet ring. Alan caught a glimpse of the ring and gave him a very curious look. "Where on earth did you acquire Damien's Signet and why hasn't it burned off your hand?"
"Ah, well, that's a long story for another time involving a dashing Courier, (not me, Harmony had that part), a bumbling fool, a gaggle of paladins, and an undead horde of wolves."
She rolled her eyes at him, "You forgot the Inquisitor and the Goddess."
"Shhhhhh, no spoilers."
Alan looked from one to the other, wondering if they were serious. You could never tell with Franklin stories. "I look forward to hearing it."