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“I’ve always got a plan, Lochie—you know that. But you’re not going to like it.”
The warrior sighs. “Just tell me what it is.”
“Simple, really. You lure Growly McGrowlface into the middle of the standing stones, and I’ll handle the rest.”
“Right, so I risk life and limb while you stand back and wave your magic stick around? Why does that feel so familiar? Oh aye, because it’s your strategy every bloody time.”
There’s no opportunity to quibble further because the shimmering wall of golden light flickers one last time and then vanishes completely, leaving nothing but empty air—oh, and a gigantic monstrous wolf not of this world. The creature’s lips curl back into a snarl that reveals far too many teeth, spectral saliva dripping from its slavering jaws.
The Cù Sìth pounces and the warrior drops into a roll, diving beneath its colossal paws just before they crash into the earth with enough force to shake the standing stones themselves. Scrambling upright, the warrior delivers a quick slash across the beast’s flank—not that it does much more than piss it off.
“Here, boy!” he calls. “This way, you ugly mongrel!”
The warrior bolts toward the centre of the stones, sword in a white-knuckled grip. The beast gives chase with terrifying speed, each thunderous paw step shaking the ground.
“All right, that’s him between the stones!” the mage calls. “Now keep him there. I only need a minute.”
“A minute?” The warrior ducks as the Cù Sìth swipes at him, its claws slicing through the air where his head was but a moment before. “Sass, do you have any idea how long sixty seconds is when you’re being chased by a homicidal ghost mutt?”
“Quit whining and keep it busy!” The mage’s staff glows brighter as she chants in Gaelic.
The warrior dodges another swipe then, with a grunt, takes a swing at the beast. “Oh aye, sure. I’ll make small talk with ol’ Fluffy here while you recite a wee poem. Fantastic idea.”
He reaches for his flintlock pistol, levels it at the fiend, and fires. The shot echoes through the stone circle, but the Cù Sìth merely shakes off the impact like a bothersome fly. Undeterred, the wolf circles the warrior with slow, deliberate steps, ghostly fangs bared, silvery drool dripping to the ground and sizzling on contact.
“That’s it,” the warrior growls under his breath. “Keep your eyes on me.”
The mage’s chant intensifies, her voice ringing out. Runes carved into the ancient standing stones pulse with light and grow brighter with each syllable. Suddenly beams of energy shoot from the stones, converging on the Cù Sìth. The demon hound roars in agony as the magical net constricts around it, holding it in place.
“Now, Lochie!” the mage shouts. “Finish it!”
“Gladly!” The warrior charges forwards, ducking under the beast’s snapping fangs and then, with herculean strength, driving his broadsword upwards, piercing the beast’s jaw and plunging deep into its skull.
For a heartbeat, everything is still. Then, in a blinding explosion of light, the monster shatters into nothingness. As the mist on the hill clears, the warrior and mage stand gasping for breath, the ground around them littered with the fading corpses of redcaps.
A golden text box appears: The Cù Sìth has dropped the Claymore of the Clan Chiefs!
The Claymore of the Clan Chiefs? Finally! I’ve been hunting for this legendary sword for weeks. My fingers dance over the laptop keys.
LochNLoad
Yas! Hope you’re not too jealous, Sass.
I click the need button next to the claymore, indicating I want it. But to my surprise—and annoyance—SassyLassie’s character portrait also appears beside it, signalling she’s done the same.
LochNLoad
What the hell, Sass? It’s a massive two-handed sword. There’s no way a mage could wield it—not with your puny wee twig arms.
SassyLassie
So? I could sell it. Or maybe I just like big swords.
I snort, the sound echoing through the snug. That’s what we call the Bannock Hotel’s small drinking area, where I’m currently “working” behind the bar. It’s quiet tonight, as it often is. The only patrons here are two local men nursing pints at the far table. They cast curious glances my way.
“Sorry, don’t mind me.” I gesture to my laptop. “Just a funny moment in the game I’m playing.”
They nod, clearly not interested, and return to their conversation. However, Bruce, the resident black Lab, rises from his dog bed, stretches, then pads over to see me, tail swishing lazily.
