"Elrod, P N - I, Strahd 2 - War Against Azalin e-txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

as a slaughtering area for the sheep. The idea was to throw a rope over the
crosspiece and lift the sheep carcass up, making it easier to clean and carve.
These interlopers had tied a rope around the shepherd's ankles, and he was
presently hanging upside down from the framework like one of his sheep.
Occasionally someone would give him a kick and set him to swinging, which was a
source of great hilarity to them. As his hands were lashed tight to his sides,
he could not prevent himself from bumping into the support posts.
A raiding party, but from no land I recognized. Brigands, thieves, and probably
worse who had somehow crossed through the misty boundary of my prison and
entered Barovia. I never welcomed such ilk troubling my land and its people, but
in this case I would make an exception.
As there was no reason why I should not get some pleasure out of this hunt, I
stepped several yards farther back into the darkness and summoned the unique
power within me that would alter my very form. The shape I chose was that of a
wolf, albeit an unnaturally large one, with a smoke black coat of thick fur
magically replacing my clothing. Though magic was certainly involved it was of a
different sort than the arcane Art I practiced, for this was an ability innate
with me and my changed condition, requiring no study, only a concentration of
desire.
The dark transformation complete, I took a moment to give my mind a chance to
adjust to the alteration of my senses. Hearing and smell were the most
dramatically effected, the latter improving more than a hundredfold over what I
knew in human form. I became aware of the contrast between old winter turf and
the fresh spring growth between my paws, and that there was a burrow of rabbits
nearby. One of them had just been along here in the last few minutes, closely
followed by a grass weasel.
My hearing was very focused depending where I swiveled my ears. I could
concentrate on any two directions at once, before and behind, if I chose. I
heard the men very clearly, picking out each of their voices as that of an
individual rather than as a muddle of low sound, from the grumbling rasp of the
group's apparent leader to the querulous snivel of the youngest ranking youth.
Elsewhere I picked up on the muttering of their horses, hobbled for the night
and grazing in peace, and the rustle of that grass weasel who was now sniffing
at the rabbits' hole.
I padded cautiously around toward the sheepfold, knowing my scent would send
them mad. They set up a panicked row, and a few jumped the low stone barrier and
fled, leaving the others to restlessly mill about bleating with terror. It was
enough to draw the attention of the men. Their leader sent someone to take a
look.
Slung across their backs many of them had very strangely shaped bows, exotic
curved things, short, and with arrows that looked too long to use. I harbored no
doubt that they were quite deadly, though. The man who stepped clear of the
others to investigate was thus armed. He brought his bow around and nocked an
arrow into place almost faster than I could follow. In this form my eyesight was
somewhat distorted and rather washed out of all color, but otherwise excellent.
The archer worked his way around the sheepfold, peering impotently into the
darkness. It would take some time before his eyes adjusted and even then would
be nowhere nearly as good as mine.
I made a yipping sound and whined a bit, hoping to be taken for a herding dog.
The man visibly relaxed, calling back the news to his friends, and if I