Midnight Erebus's Bestiary, Page 4

Memories of home have been flooding my mind as I write this journal. For the most part I have spoken of my most difficult or challenging of hunts. However I am reminded of a hunt that while less challenging than most, came at a time when I was still learning and holds a special importance to me. My black fur cloak was made from this creature. A cloak that has provided warmth in the coldest of nights and served as a reminder of how far I have come throughout the years.
 
Bram
The Horned Beast of the Forest
 
Brams are not typically the most aggressive of monsters despite their fierce appearance. In fact they share the characteristics of the ancient creatures they were created from. The story goes that animal life became sparse on our world after a great disaster. A group of beings known as Golems claim to be the reason that animal life and even sentient life returned to the planet. These Golems are apparently some of the most technologically advanced beings on Meterra and had records of all life that once existed here. This archive is of great interest to many wizards and from time to time, they succeed in stealing from this archive. In this particular case, one wizard experimented with creating animal fusions, using the information they acquired from the Golems. One such result was the Bram. A beast with the body of a bear and the head of a ram. Mostly. The head tends to be a bit wider and its teeth are certainly not of a herbivore.
 
The combination of traits makes for a powerful creature that is an expert climber, and a very dangerous charger that can knock over trees with a single charge. Their horns also protect their necks and head, making it very difficult to get a clean strike in. One is more liable to break their blade trying, as I in fact did. They are generally fairly docile like your average bear however, leaving any creature it doesn't see as food alone unless they take aggressive action first. They are however very valuable game animals. Their horns are light, yet durable enough that they can be used for a variety of purposes, from ceremonial drinking horns that can last centuries or as part of fierce hammer. Their hide and fur is thick, making them the most ideal blankets and cloaks for the cold of the Banshee Mountains. Their meat is very lean, making for the perfect jerky. What fat they build up makes for a great tallow for a wide variety of purposes. Finally their bones have slightly magical properties and are often used in a wide variety of crafts to help channel mana.
 
My first successful hunt against one of these creatures started off roughly. This was before I learned how to control my own magical abilities so I was stuck fighting it with just weapons. My father Yomrim had told me the best way to kill it was to strike hard and fast from above, stabbing it in the back of the neck with a sharpened blade. I got the part about striking from above right, hiding myself in a tree and leaping down as it passed. However where I should have stabbed, I slashed, shattering my blade against the tough horns. The end result was sheer panic on my part as the Bram turned and roared at me, slashing it's claws at me. I fell to the ground and managed to avoid the claws but quickly backed against the tree. The bram stood on both legs as it approached me until a firebolt struck it in the eye, causing it to turn and roar at my father. Instinctually I thrusted a hand forward, causing a single tendril of shadow to lash out from my arm and impale it in the neck. Soon after my strike it fell, breathing quickly as it rapidly bled to death. My father ended it's suffering quickly as he stabbed a spear into it's heart.
 
I distinctly remember the look on my father's face. A strange mixture of pride and disappointment that eventually settled on a smile as he helped me up. We had one of our rare talks on the way home, him admonishing me for using my sword instead of spear in the first place and the way I panicked but how he was proud that I managed to take advantage of his distraction and that I had managed to discover my magical talent. When we got home we went through the process of cleaning our kill, a process that took all of a day to complete. The day after that I had been send out with the wagon to distribute the parts to the various crafters of the village. All but the furs. The reason for which I found when I returned home to him presenting me with the finest black fur cloak I had ever seen. It was far too large on me but he knew I'd grow into it. This along with my scimitar and my silver earrings are the only pieces of home I have left.