Hokujin Goes to a Forest

The people of Holst Shire were a simple kind. Farmers and traveling salesmen mostly populated its modest boarders, fueling an economy that relied largely on the trading of crops to the much bigger surrounding towns. But they considered themselves the lucky ones, the folks of Holst Shire. Every season was beautiful, the soil was always rich, and the community was tight-knit. And as long as these three factors remained steady, no one saw anything fit to complain about. That was until two years ago.

A woodsman, by the name of Darian Deacon, had gone into the boarding Nilsson Forest for his usual day of lumber gathering. That night, the full moon beaming down upon the village, the woodsman didn't return. Next morning, the town awoke to a terribly violent murder. A farmer, his wife, and his eldest son, had died in the attempt to save the life of the farmer's younger children. And while this would be enough to rock the foundation of simple Holst Shire, what was truly stunning was the perpetrator. Eye witness accounts of the bloody attack, including the children's, had revealed that not only was the executor not from Holst Shire, but it hadn't even been human.

Since that time, the once peaceful farm land had grown to fear the lunar cycle. At that time of the month, the people would move their crops away from the village in the daylight, and come night, they men would stand sentinal; Each prepared to fight the beast to the death. And many did. The body count rose to 13, a substantial number for such a small community. Panic gripped the citizens of Holst Shire, and soon families began to move away - far away from the curse of the werewolf.

"Ruddy cowards." Old man Sten Miller growled. His rifle laid over his lap, one gnarled hand upon it, and the other grasping his pipe. He took a drag off of the hand-carved smoke, exhaling with a snort like an angry bull.

His sandy-haired adult son, Fredric Miller, sighed and shook his head. "Is it cowardly to want to protect their family, father?"

"'Swhat're you think we're doin'? Think I like sittin' out here, freezin' my bloody hair off my chest?" Sten grimaced indignatly.

"A couple old rifles and two weary farmers might help you sleep at night, but you can't fault folks for wanting a less fearful life for their families." Fredric argued with little conviction in his voice. It was evident that this disagreement was common-place between these two.

Before Sten could open his mouth to make the retort about having owned land here for seven generations of Miller's, a galloping noise in the distance caught the pair's attention. Eyeing his father fertively, Fredric stood from his chair, clutching his rifle. Sten rose, and the father and son slowly crept toward the sound. They made certain to watch the other's blindspots.

But if they were expecting to meet a muscular man-sized wolf, with greasy, matted fur, they were most mistaken. Instead, the galloping appeared to be coming from a horse. A large, dirty white stallion, draped in basic battle equipment, and a rather slow-looking expression. Indeed, had the steed been without a rider, it would have still been cause for alarm - it was quite huge - but holding the reigns was a man.

Hokujin Doujin, the Master Bombardier of Alexander, was not just any man. He was a Paladin. A sworn protector of righteousness, a symbol of hope, caster of judgments, and an expert of all-things 'Bomb Smithery'. He was quite a short man, though by the way he held himself it was hard to tell. His slightly wrinkled, mild-aged face beamed with the sort of confidence few individuals experience for more than five minutes of their life-time. He wore poorly cared for platemail, that looked like it hadn't seen a blacksmith in years, and had been shined by a child. Over his eyes, he wore a pair of smudged goggles. Slung around him, a heavy war hammer, and a pack full of explosives. His lengthy brown hair was usually kept pulled back, untidily, out of his face. Tonight, however, it was set in two elaborate braided buns, complimented by an assortment of colorful flowers. This unique hair-style was the handywork of the other person on the oversized horse.

Lydea Enine Antipatos Marisella Arquel'malas, sometimes called 'Arke', Junior Bombadette and Paladin Apprentice, stood on the back of the horse, humming happily as she adjusted and arranged the plants in the Paladin's hair. She was a runty little common elf, with jet black hair that was pulled into buns like her Master's - though, admittedly, not quite as elaborate or as many flowers. Her long, pointy ears swayed pleasantly as she weaved her head back and forth, apparently taken with the tune in her head. As far as dress was concerned, she looked like Hokujin in miniature. Considerably lighter, and cleaner, platemail was called for, as she was so small. Her goggles bore pink lenses, which matched the pink shirt just discernable beneath her chest piece. She also possessed a rucksack filled with engineering supplies, and a smaller war hammer hung over her back.

"Brian - Oh, Sir Brian
Bravest Knight of Alexander
Brian - Oh, Sir Brian
Paladin of the purest forge"

Hokujin sang along with Arke's humming. She joined in to sing the second verse.

"Brian - Oh, Sir Brian!
Defeater of the Undead Scourge
Brian - Oh, Sir Brian!
Greatest will, and strongest courage"

They met each others be-spectecled gaze, and finished together with broad smiles.

"And he fought the trolls
Be-friended the orcs
Found a dozen men
Beat the Ogre-kin
Saved all the Dwarves
Hunted Dragons for sport
Formed ties with the Light
And never lost a fight!"

"The hero of heroes! Sir Brian Brou!" They ended in fantastically off-key harmony.

Sten and Fredric exchanged perplexed looks.

"Greetings!" Bellowed Hokujin jovially as he spotted the father and son.

"Who might you be?" Sten growled, eyeing his eccentric hair style.

"Ah yes!" The Paladin hopped off the horse, his little sidekick clung to his back as he did so. "I am Hokujin Doujin, Master Bombardier of Alexander, and Holy Lightsmith!"

Arke clamboured off his back, facing the men too, echoing Hokujin's confident beam. "And I'm Lydea Enine Antipatos Marisella Arquel'malas! Junior Bombadette and Apprentice of Lightsmithery!"

"Nice name. . ." Fredric said, uncertainly.

"Thanks!! My daddy came up with it all by himself!" She said brightly, and as if in doing so, her father had done a great deed for all of humanity.

"In common-speech, please." Sten grunted.

"We're Paladins!" Hokujin exclaimed with excited vigor. "We were passing through the neighboring village with some companions of ours, when we heard about your 'furry little problem'." He grinned.

The old man seemed to take this quite patronizingly. "Did you now?" He sneered. "I suppose that's what we been doin' wrong, Fredric. Not enough flower-haired idiots with little girls in our village. Might have scared the werewolf away ages ago if we had."

"Silly!" Arke giggled. "Our flowers won't help us stop the werewolf, though I'm happy you like them!" She beamed.

"If it were that simple, we wouldn't need the hammers!" Hokujin chuckled heartily, smacking Fredric on the back in revelry - with perhaps a bit too much force. "Now, come Billiam! We have a wolf to catch!"

The dim-looking horse snorted, and followed the man and the girl was they made their way toward the forest.

Fredric rubbed at his shoulder. "Wait!" He shouted after them. "You can't be serious! Fighting it by yourself, that'd be suicide!!"

The Paladins paused, turning the face the men.

"Miss Lydea, tell these fine gentleman what I taught you about Paladins and suicide." Hokujin smiled at his precious student.

"Yes sir!" She looked seriously at the men. "Paladins can't commit suicide, because we can't go to hell."

Hokujin beamed with pride and affection.

The Paladins turned back toward the Nilsson Forest, and tread on at a brisk pace.

"Should we help them?" Fredric asked his father.

"Would serve right, to get 'emselves killed." Sten said in his grizzley voice, though he was smiling.

The Nilsson Forest was certainly a sight to behold - and behold it they did, the Paladin's maces each glowing with a bright, illuminating golden light. The plant life was rich and green, the result of the great soil of these lands. As they walked on, the plants began to get stranger and stranger. They were still quite common types, but many were uprooted and ripped to pieces. Certainly, it was fresh, and the culprit was nearby.

"You see that, Miss Lydea?" Hokujin pointed a gloved finger at the surrounding bushes, near a cave. They were ravaged, and the cave looked like it had seen much brighter days.

Arke peered at it breathlessly, then looked back up at her master. "Do you think that's where the monster is, Sir?"

Hokujin nodded. "I'm positive."

"What do we do?" She said slightly fearful, but mostly in high expectation.

"We smoke it out, of course!"

"Smoke it out? Oh! A smoke bomb!"

Hokujin chuckled. "Smoke bombs are for lesser Bombardiers, my dearest student. But every Master Bombardier knows that, where there's smoke - " The Paladin dove his hand into his explosive pack, tossing a freshly lit stick of dynamite at the cave. "There's an explosion!!!"

The forest shook. Not with the booming eruption that was the Master Bombardier's explosive, but from the yowling, blood-curdling rage bellowed by the striken werewolf.

Hokujin removed his glowing mace from his back swiftly, holding it in front of himself in preparation for the on-coming beast.

"Stand back, Miss Lydea!" He said, and she obeyed, preparing her own hammer for battle.

The werewolf came tearing from the cave on all four limbs. It snarled and growled, blood and saliva dripping from its open jowls. Its heavy, muscular fur-covered body moving through the night with alarming speed. And it pounced.

SLAM! Hokujin brought his heavy war hammer down hard onto the wolf's overlarge head. It howled in confused fury, shaking it's head as if to bat away the ringing in its ears. It swiped at Hokujin in blind retaliation, and the Paladin parried with his mace's hilt. He grinned, throwing a small, plastic explosive onto the forest floor behind the werewolf. Pulling his mace away from the beast, Hokujin kicked out his left leg into the wolf's chest, sending it roaring onto the floor below. The Paladin jumped back, shielding Arke as the werewolf landed on the mine. The mixed sounds of howling and fiery retribution rent the air apart.

"Easy enough!" Hokujin beamed down at his student.

Arke looked back up at him, her face etched with reverence. "That was amazing, Sir!!"

He smiled broadly, and Arke gasped. Burning yellow eyes charged through the night, and a filthy claw whipped through the golden light of the hammer's, busting the beaming Paladin in the side of the head. The force of the blow lifted him off the forest floor, sending him toppling over several feet away.

"Goggleface!!" Arke panicked. She hadn't called him this particular pet name since he had taken her on as his apprentice, but in her horror she had forgotten to be formal. Grimacing, a tear dripping out from under her pink spectecles, the runty elf lifted her own glowing hammer and landed a hard blow into the wolf's stomach.

The werewolf stumbled back, howling. But before it could regain its footing, Arke drove another hammering swing into the wolf's chest, successfully knocking the wind out of it. Momentarily stunned by her own effort, Arke paused to take in what she had done. And that was all the time needed for the werewolf to shake off her attacks, and lunge forward for another assault.

Hokujin's gloved hands shot through the air, clasping onto each of the wolf's wrists. Standing between the girl and the werewolf, goggles lop-sided, the Paladin grinned.

"Miss Lydea!"

"Y-yes, sir?"

"When a Paladin cannot use his hands or his feet, what does he use?"

She thought for a moment, then exclaimed. "He uses his head, Master!"

"Percisely!!!!" Hokujin shouted as he headbutt the werewolf in the jaw with all of his considerable might.

Sten and Fredric were running now - frightened by the sounds of battle, which had finally ceased, the feared the worst for the Paladins. But they needn't. The glowing golden light pierce through the forest, and Arke, Hokujin, and Billiam the horse came toward the pair with the air of victory. And there was one other - the woodsman, Darian Deacon, wrapped in Hokujin's cloak and laying on the back of the massive horse, while Arke tended to his wounds. Hokujin walked beside Billiam, waving at the men.

"Greetings again! You'll be pleased to know that this man will never become a wolf again." He grinned.

Fredric looked astounished. "But how did you. . ?"

"Miss Lydea?" Hokujin looked up at his prized student.

"It was easy!" She beamed at the men. "There is not Holy resistance!"