Post by alistair on Feb 9, 2012 18:54:50 GMT -8
sunday, november 20th, 2011 – some time in the afternoon
There were countless phrases that could be used to demonstrate the situation. Perhaps keeping your head in the game suited it for some. He preferred the term, “Keep your eye on the prize,” though it was not his wording of choice this time. Not losing focus would be crucial to those in similar situations. If one neglected to pay attention to their surroundings, to be aware of everything, then it could end up very poorly indeed. Death could certainly be the price, but the young man in charge of the mission could have easily come up with a number of reasons why getting distracted or making a mistake could be dangerous. A wrong step could result in burns so terrible the receiver would wish they were dead. Underestimating the sheer power of the creature could result in an unwanted amputation and all the pain that would accompany the sudden loss of a limb.
No, he had a much simpler way to look at this particular mission: don’t be stupid.
It was a phrase that was often muttered at the beginning of every particular mission. The goal was to be laid out, before he would wrap things up with that one phrase. It was something that should have been basic knowledge, though Alistair Lawless knew that common sense was actually not all that common, especially to those young and foolish enough to join him. That wasn’t to say that all who accompanied him were young and foolish, but there always seemed to be one or two rookies who didn’t quite grasp what was a good or bad idea. The scars upon his forehead had resulted from something similar, the lines faint now, but he could still remember the pain from the injury. He had been the stupid one that time, and had things gone just a little differently, it was very possible that he wouldn’t be alive.
Now he was the one calling the shots, making sure that every last member had their ass covered when things got tricky. However, as the leader of the small group of hunters, he also knew that sometimes it was required that someone got left behind. He may have been able to talk like he truly cared about the well-being of his team, but there was very little of the compassion that was genuine. In fact, he would have rather not heard their personal stories. Alistair knew that a team that survived through several missions would be able to get along better, be more in sync. He also knew that experience could be crucial in a time of need. If he had to leave people behind, he would need to find replacements as soon as he returned to town. It was a tough responsibility, but he figured it suited him. After all, he was the one who had wanted the adventurous lifestyle, the one that came with fortune and the possibility for fame.
“Lawless, how long?”
He didn’t even look up from his perch, seated upon the back of a Hippogriff. It was an odd choice to ride, but the creature hardly looked like a normal one. Riddled with scars and discoloration, the Hippogriff only had one eye. Still, it was a reliable thing. The rider smacked his lips, mulling over the question. He had been in these mountains before. His eyes scanned the greenery below, trying to detect some sort of trace of what they were searching for. Perhaps an indicator would come in the form of a patch of bald trees, where the leaves had been singed away. “Not too long before we land, McKnight,” he finally shouted over the rushing air. He was true to his word, slowly coaxing the once-majestic creature to begin to descend. As soon as the first signs began to show, they would travel by foot. It was too much of a risk for the fliers to remain in the air once they got into the territory of the beast.
When the hunters had dismounted, there were seven of them. He disliked large numbers, but they all brought different skills to the table. Alistair likely could have found the nest on his own, but he doubted he would have been able to return the goods without the help of a couple more wizards. They ranged in ages from nineteen to thirty-nine, from all walks of life. He didn’t care. All that he cared about was how good they were with their wands and, of course, that they weren’t stupid. One younger wizard dropped from a tree, relaying knowledge of the direction they should be going. He served as a tracker, though he did not lead beyond that. Instead, a larger man walked ahead of the group, always several feet forward so as to give warning if the need arose. He continued to lead as they climbed up short cliffs to the next natural terrace. They were a motley crew, a mixture of clothing styles and physical attributes, though one thing was constant. They all were dressed to blend in. With the proper disillusionment spells, they were nearly invisible among the tree bark and leaf-littered ground.
The first visible sign was two miles away.
There were claw marks upon the ground and across the trees, breaking up the wood into jagged, uneven edges. To some muggles, it was likely that nobody would suspect the real culprit, but his team knew too well. They were getting closer. A small smirk found his face as Alistair muttered something, urging his men on. Out in the field was one of the times that he found his abilities came in most handy, his hair a muddy and mottled shade to camouflage him, his skin almost a chocolate brown. He waved a hand to signal for them to get into a better formation, lest they stumble upon what they were looking for. The closer they got to where the nest was, the more evident the signs became. There were scorched stumps, entire areas where the trees had been decimated. A few piles of bones littered the ground in various states of decay. Birds no longer called. Muggle adventurers likely assumed it was due to elevation, that no animals roamed so high in the cliffs.
They were certainly going in the right direction.
Soon, they found what they were looking for – the nest.
He placed a finger to his lips as his eyes darted about. Alistair was hardly visible with the cautionary spells and other changes to appearance, but the motion itself was enough to get the point across. Once more, the thought of being intelligent allowed his team to pick up on what was happening. There was a hesitant hush that fell upon the group, all stopping in their actions to merely observe. Slowly, the man drew his wand. He closed his eyes, trying to listen to what was going on. The silence from the humans seemed to stretch on for an eternity as he attempted to detect where the creature would be. Would it be near its nest? Would it be off gathering food? His nose crinkled slightly as he leaned closer to the haphazard structure of sticks that served as a nest for the beast.
The answer came suddenly. There was a scream as the creature returned, the noise produced by a man who had wandered too close to the monster’s domain, too far from the foliage. Without any formal commands, the six remaining contenders leapt into action. The scout who had been sent ahead was flashing spells a mile a minute, attempting to get the beast to release his comrade. The tracker was doing the same from another angle. The animal was not easily deterred, some spells bouncing off the scales upon its back, blasting flames in the directions where those that landed came from. Two more men worked to distract the creature, producing what they could to fight fire with fire. One man was trying to place a barrier around the nest. Another man was off in a flash, sprinting in the direction of the next, flinging himself down beside it. Alistair trailed the last man, crouched low to the ground.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glint of what they were here for.
The other man had no sooner reached out to curl his hands around one of the dragon eggs when the mother noticed. The beast produced a feral noise, almost deafening, as she turned away from the wizards engaging her. Alistair saw the motion. “Move, you idiot!” he yelled, quickly tumbling to hide behind a rock. It was from there that he cast a protective spell at the younger man, eyes narrowed in annoyance. How could he have been so stupid? The monster had produced the eggs, surely she would notice when someone tried to take them. They had to outwit the creature. The foolish man had released the egg and bolted, ducking to hide behind another rock, in the meantime. The leader was still unimpressed. They needed more strategy if they were going to go home with their pockets full.
He could hear the thunderous noise the dragon’s steps produced as it released another defensive shriek. This time, they were closer. The beast must have noticed the direction both men had dove to. His cover would produce little help once she got close enough. He poked his head out just a smidge from behind the rock, just enough to see the tendrils that spiraled from the wands of his team. However, the creature also spotted him. Alistair retracted as she reared her head, ready to throw fire at one of the men who threatened to cause harm to her eggs. A rocket of fire came across the stone, the heat turning his arm red, the burn instantaneous as he accidentally rested his hand against the superheated material. She stopped to prepare another blast. The second wave of flames never came, as one of the whip-like bursts of magic wrapped around her neck, distracting her momentarily. He was lucky she had averted her eyes as he sprinted for another place to spot an opportunity to snatch her future young.
Don’t be stupid.
He could do this.
His eyes narrowed as he formulated a plan. Suddenly, it hit him. He quickly sent a dash of green-colored sparks into the sky, a signal for those who were able to catch it. As if by some sort of code, the others who were still standing all turned their attention to the dragon. The sign had been designed for one purpose: distract. Alistair dove across the grass and dirt, sliding in the mud as he landed beside the comrade who had been snatched by the dragon. A frown fixed itself in place as he quickly surveyed the situation. The man was bleeding profusely. He could tell from just a quick glance that the man had several bones broken, even exposed to the air. A quick healing spell could do very little; he would have needed attention immediately. Still, the leader had to check before launching his next bit of strategy into action.
The skinny man remained as close to the ground as he could as he dashed forward, jumping nimbly over the edge and into the nest. One hand stashed his wand up his sleeve as the other found his bag, whipping it around his shoulders. The disheveled piece of dragon-hide leather was padded on the inside, magically extended for ease. Alistair quickly ducked down to scramble what he could into it, four of the seven eggs. He was still kneeling in the twigs and leaves when the dragon noticed him. He didn’t have to look up to know the roar she produced was aimed in his direction, that she was likely warming her throat to spit fire at him. He haphazardly swung the bag back around, wand sliding out of his sleeve. He was prepared. In fact, Alistair Lawless had been expecting her to come charging in his direction. He was ready.
“Levicorpus!”
He was ripped from the ground and throw into the air, flinging in a direction to send him upside down. It was high enough that the enraged creature slammed past, not expecting his sudden lift off. She continued to plow on, fire in front of her. Had he not used the spell, he would have likely been a human shish kebab. His momentum was still hurling him higher, still flipping, as he muttered the counter-curse. “Liberacorpus,” had no sooner left his lips as he continued to twirl. His eyes darted in the direction of the rest of the team – those he could immediately see – as he raised his voice to shout a few words at them. “Go! Head west!” He spun in a sort of fashion that rivaled a motion similar to a skier’s kangaroo flip. He tucked his arms in closer to his body, arms folded across his chest, wand clutched firmly in his hand.
The others wasted no time before fleeing the scene, sprinting as fast as humanly possible in the direction they had come. They were scrambling and jumping over short cliffs, sliding and skidding where applicable. Such was the drill. If Alistair believed it would end better for them to leave, none of them would question him. As easy as it was to believe he was an opportunist, the men he tended to bring with him for missions were none the better. They were also intelligent enough to know their directions. There was no doubt in his mind that they would make it back to safety, little to show for the danger they engaged besides bruises and burns, possibly a fracture or two in their bones.
No, what he was truly worried about was his own life. He sent up a shower of blue sparks, another symbol, one that was not intended for the human members of his team. He landed rather hard, crouching to stabilize himself. He straightened slowly, his eyes hard. It was just him. It was simply Alistair against the dragon for now. He turned to face the beast, a mischievous glint in his eye. It was the sort of look that would have his human counterparts curious as to what his next move was. The creature was not nearly as interested in such a display of emotion. A roar ripped through the air as she lunged once more in his direction, jaws opened to reveal her teeth as she rose off the ground to fly at him. The young man bolted, arms pumping as the trees became a blur. The shortest distance between two points may have been a straight line, but he knew she would be faster than him.
A sharp click was barely audible amongst the snarling of the dragon and the rushing of the air past his ears, but the effect was obvious. He had Apparated while moving, popping up just twenty feet to the right. It wasn’t a huge jump, just enough to confuse the beast, who swung about to spot him. He was suddenly thankful of the trees, limiting her ability to make quick turns without injury. When she began to near him again, he pulled a similar maneuver, his feet still pounding full-force at the ground. The cliff was coming up; he could see the point where the trees suddenly halted. He could only pray that his signal had been sent with enough time to spare, otherwise this could end very badly. Something scorched past his head, the edges not far from his ear, the heat buffeting him. He wanted to turn to see how close she was, but he knew better. Turning around would give her an opportunity to latch on to a slowing of pace. “Expulso!” He jerked his wand behind him. He could hear one of the trees bursting, the shriek of the surprised beast as the tree in front of her undoubtedly exploded.
He reached the edge of the cliff and jumped.
There was a sickening lurch in his stomach as gravity took hold and he began to plummet in the direction of solid ground, several feet below. His arms cartwheeled and his eyes slammed shut as he felt himself free fall. How muggles could do things like bungee jump or skydive was beyond him. His eyes opened just as something gray swooped in. His arms wrapped around the neck of the Hippogriff, relief breaking across his face. His body stopped falling as they climbed into the air, leveling off just as the dragon burst from the trees to face east. Alistair’s fingers fumbled slightly with his wand as he turned slightly to look back. The flames had formed and were about to leave her mouth. “Aguamenti!” The pair turned sharply for the direction of the ground below as he cast another spell, deep gouges appearing across the dragon. They were losing her. They had to be, at this point.
By the time they had gotten back to the underground, the team was waiting for them. They returned through the fireplaces, the guard giving them a mildly critical look. “Looks like you lost someone,” she replied, her voice monotonous. She had been there when they had set out the days before, before they had tracked down the beast and found its nest. “What happened?” Alistair’s eyebrows rose as he glanced back at his fellow adventurers. There was barely any time that passed, but it was enough for one man to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. Three of them looked down or away, unable to look at the female guard. None of them wanted to answer her question; their discomfort was obvious, even if it had merely been a formality on the woman’s part. The man who served as their leader shrugged his shoulders, his lips a tight line before they parted and he spoke. His reasoning was the logic that he worked to pound into the minds of those he worked with.
“He was stupid.”