"Damn it all, I wonder what could have gutted it like thi-"
"We need to leave. Now." interrupted the veteran hunter. The forest had turned dead quiet, neither chirp nor buzz to be heard.
"What do you mean? We have to find and kill what did this!" the younger of the duo said in a sharp whisper; angry, but not enough to yell while on a hunt.
"I've encountered this beast once before," the veteran said as he started back they way they came very cautiously; "and in the blink of an eye it did this." He pointed to the scarred remains of the left half of his face. "And that was just a cub. I don't even want to think about what-"
The grizzled man's voice was silenced by an orange blur, followed by a red mist. All that was left where he stood was two boots, the stumps of two legs sticking out from the the tops of the cracked leather. A scream and a moistened pair of breeches later, and the other joined his friend in the afterlife.
Equal parts teeth, horns, fur, and rage, the
chort'ralla are ferocious beasts that have an indefinite place at the top of the food chain wherever they happen to be located. Given the deadliness of the creatures, one would assume that they would be a much worse threat to society than they are, but the
chort'ralla tend to stick to their remote lairs, venturing out only to feed once every few weeks, spending the rest of their time lazing about and sleeping.
Chort'ralla are never "small"; newborns stand about 5 feet tall, and are able to walk minutes after birth, and get the hang of their trademark jumping ability within a few hours. Everything about these creatures screams
predator. From their evergrowing canines to the overgrown talons of the primary digits of their forelimbs. No one is really certain what the maximum height of a
chort'ralla is, but the tallest one on record stands nearly 20 feet tall when upright on its hind legs.
Comments