Bordan fell to the ground, breathing heavily. Edwin joined him a moment later, even his empowered body protesting at the exertion he’d put it through. The monster’s hide had been thick, fighting him on each stab. When it had realized it couldn’t hit him on its back, it had used its last remaining strength to try and shake him off. It had been all Edwin could do to hold on. They had fought the beast for what felt like an eternity until it finally fell to the ground and didn’t get back up. Bordan had rammed his sword through its eye, making sure that it would stay down. For a few seconds, they both just sat there and caught their breath.

A shadow fell on Edwin and he looked up. Leodin and Salissa had approached, studying the fallen monster from up close. Even lying down it was massive.

“You alright?” Bordan asked the mage.

“Just a few bruises.” She answered with a grimace, holding her arm.

“What happened?” Edwin asked. “When I got up you were gone.”

“I got flung, just like you.” The girl answered. “I saw you get hit first, though, so I had a moment to brace. I rolled into a trench, and because I’m almost out of mana I stayed back.”

“Everyone else okay?” Bordan asked. “Edwin, you’re bleeding.”

Edwin got to his feet, inspecting himself. His left arm was peppered with splinters from his shield, but the sleeve of his gambeson had prevented them from penetrating his skin. He felt bruises forming all over his body but knew that they would disappear within the hour. The gambeson at his chest had a few tears, but whatever had caused them hadn’t penetrated all the way to his skin. His right hand was bloody, but a quick check showed him that it was the beaver’s blood, not his.

“Where?” He asked, and Bordan answered by tapping his forehead. Edwin felt his head, finding a thin gash just over his left eyebrow.

“It’s not bad, just the tree that was nice enough to catch me.” Edwin reassured Bordan. “You brought some of that green stuff they had in Henkerton, right?”

Bordan went through his backpack while Edwin used a waterskin to rinse blood and sweat from his face. A short while later, his forehead was slathered in the foul-smelling unguent and wrapped in clean cloth. Salissa had also received a few shallow cuts on her landing, and Bordan had gotten swiped by the beaver’s claws twice, which meant bandages all around. Only Leodin remained untouched, the marksman safe at range.

Once first aid was taken care of and they had all quenched their thirst from their waterskins, they gathered around the felled giant. In death, the creature looked almost harmless. The patches of burnt skin and fur as well as the many bleeding wounds reminded Edwin of its last moments, fighting for its life against superior numbers.

“Am I the only one who feels bad about this?” Edwin asked. Nobody answered.

“It was a dangerous monster.” Bordan said finally, although his voice didn’t sound as sure as his words. “It tried to kill us.”

“We attacked it in its home. We basically ambushed it.” Edwin countered.

“Direbeasts kill humans on sight.” Bordan replied. “We know that. It’s always been that way. We can’t coexist.”

This time Edwin didn’t answer. Bordan was correct. Whatever made direbeasts what they were, it made it so they attacked and ate any living creature except for their own kind. People had tried to domesticate and train them, even raise them as pets. Nobody had ever succeeded.

“You’re right.” He finally said. “But I don’t have to like it.”

“You don’t.” Bordan sighed. “I don’t love it either, if I’m honest. But there is no other way. If we hadn’t killed it now, it might have wandered into the village, or surprised a hunter.”

Edwin knew that. It was just that in death the direbeaver looked too much like its harmless relative, despite the horn and bone armor. Edwin’s eyes fell on the creature’s tail, and he noticed something he hadn’t at first. The shield that covered the direbeast’s back ran all the way to its paddle-like tail, covering the appendage in a thin, segmented mail of bony ridges. Around the side of the paddle were small spikes, making the tail look like a large, flat sawblade.

“I think I know what cut up my gambeson.” Edwin said, pointing his findings out to his companions.

Salissa ran her hand along the spines, paling slightly. “I’m glad it only hit me with the flat side.”

Edwin nodded. “It didn’t get a good swing at me either, or it would’ve done a lot more than just give me a cut.”

Meanwhile, Bordan was kneeling at the other side of the carcass. “Mind giving me a hand, Edwin? I can’t get my spear out.”

The weapon was buried so deeply, only half of the long wooden shaft still protruded. It seemed to have gotten stuck between bones, as even with Edwin’s enhanced strength freeing it was no easy task. After they had finally pulled it free, and Bordan had washed it thoroughly in the nearby stream, the adventurers were putting away their gear and preparing to leave. Edwin had just found his discarded mace close to where he had been hit, when Bordan called for his attention from the riverside. Edwin stuck his weapon into its belt sling, glad to have its reassuring weight at his side, and walked over to Bordan.

“We ready to leave? It’ll be dark soon.”

“Not quite yet.” The former soldier replied, his eyes on the dam. “We need to search its lair.”

“What for?” Edwin asked, surprised. “Surely if there was a second one it would have come out as well.”

“Yes, but there may be young. We couldn’t risk them growing up and becoming a danger.”

For a few seconds, there was silence, as both men let the idea of killing cute little beaver pups sink in.

“Really?” Edwin asked finally.

“Afraid so.” Bordan answered with a sigh. “This is actually part of the job. We at least have to check. If it makes you feel better, I don’t think there will be any. There was only one, and I’m pretty sure it was male.”

Edwin inspected the dam, scratching his head. “How are we supposed to get in there? I’m pretty sure the entrance is under water.”

“See, that’s what I wanted to ask you. How good are you at swimming?”

--- ----- ---

Edwin hadn’t been quite sure himself, but as it turned out, he was quite good at it. His swimming technique was mediocre at best, as Walter hadn’t spent too much time in the water, but he found that he could hold his breath for several minutes. Under the surface of the river, feeling the bottom of the dam for an opening, that skill was much more useful than speed. It took him a few minutes, but the arrival of the direbeaver at the shore had narrowed down the places where the entrance could be, so he found it soon enough. The inside of the dam was much more claustrophobic than Edwin had expected from such a large creature. A tunnel led Edwin to the nest, which was thankfully above water. He couldn’t see, sadly, and he dearly wished for a light spell. Walter had contemplated giving Edwin night vision but had decided that it would probably be too much of a change. Being better at something was fine, but if you started doing things that nobody else could, people got suspicious.

Feeling his way around the nest in the dark was unsettling, but it could have been a lot worse. From the moment Edwin surfaced in the nest area, he knew that it was empty. A living creature would have made noises that his sharp ears would have picked up at such short a distance, so he managed to relax a little. Once he didn’t have to worry about being attacked, the darkness and the cramped space didn’t really faze him. He had just spent several decades alone in a dark network of mostly narrow underground tunnels, after all.

The nest only held gnawed bones and whatever a direbeaver considered padding, which was mostly thin brushwood and entire leafy branches. After he had circled the whole cavern, Edwin lowered himself back into the water, took a deep breath and swam back. Although he wasn’t really tired, his wounds didn’t hurt anymore, and the water wasn’t particularly cold, he really looked forward to a warm bed and a good night’s sleep.

I suppose I can remove the physical tiredness, but the mental exhaustion still remains. I need to be careful not to overdo it and stay awake too long, who knows what that might do. In fact, I should probably test how far I can safely go. Not tonight, though. Tonight I sleep.