Soon the foliage around them was completely dead. The trees had no leaves. Some of the branches were very gnarled and twisted and the bark was deep purple. The dirt had morphed into a strange purple sludge that got on their boots.
Berryl lifted her foot and made a face at the gooey substance sliding down her brown leather boot. “Ew, what is this stuff?”
Cleave shook some of the gunk from the toe of his foot and trudged on. “Search me. Probably some weird magic anomaly we’ll have to fix.”
“Maybe it has something to do with that stone you have,” Krug said.
Some of the shadows cast by the figures following them grew longer and thinner. Tarka stopped as four figures in dark green robes with hoods over their faces stepped in front of her. The party turned to find six more standing behind them.
Cleave drew his weapon and the rest of his friends stood back to back as they prepared for battle.
“These the folks you were telling us about earlier?” Tarka said to Berryl.
“Nope,” Berryl said, “wrong color robes. Unless they changed robes. I would’ve changed robes, the purple those other guys wore was ugly.”
One of the figures standing in front of the party lowered its hood. The face of a heavily scarred bald man with a pug nose and crooked mouth emerged. Cleave raised his sword, expecting another battle. However, the man only stood silently.
When it became clear there’d be no attack, Cleave lowered his weapon. “Can we help you?”
“Do you walk the path of life?” The man said in a deep yet airy voice.
“If you’re asking if we’re alive, then yes, we are, and we hope to stay that way,” Tarka said.
The man slowly shook his head. “No. Are you a wielder of life magics, the powers of the earth?”
“No, but we know some people who are,” Krug said, referencing their dryad friends.
“Then you cannot help us. We are in need of those who walk the path of life.”
“Who are you?” Krug said.
“My name is Halzam. I, and my comrades, follow the nature path.”
The figures all lowered their hoods and revealed their faces to the party. They all wore grim expressions and kept their eyes focused on the ground and trees around them. The party tried to get the attention of these people, but only Halzam would look at them.
“My apologies for the behavior of my comrades. They, like I, am despondent about the forest’s turning.”
“The forest’s turning?” Cleave said.
“Yes. Do you see the odd coloration of the bark and the dying grasses?”
Cleave nodded.
“These are all signs that the forest is turning from the path of life. A taint has taken hold of this part of the forest, as it has with others.”
“Sounds like we’ve found our quest,” Tarka mumbled. “So what’s causing it?”
“We don’t know,” Halzam said. “Because of the strange coloration we know that a tainted magic associated with the path of unlife is responsible, but we can’t pinpoint an exact cause.”
“Unlife, you mean necromancy?”
“It’s a possibility, but it might not be necromancy specifically. There are some foul magics that use the power of life and nature to fuel spells.”
Tarka sighed. “Okay, so what do you want us to do? I assume you stopped us so you can give us our quest.”
Halzam’s forehead wrinkled. “Your quest? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A screen appeared in front of Tarka.
Stop breaking immersion.
The kobold rolled her eyes and looked up to the wrinkled and dying forest canopy. “My apologies, oh Gods of Unexplored. I’ll make sure to follow protocol.”
Cleave gently kneed Tarka, and she elbowed his leg hard enough to make him double over.
“I’m sorry, are you trying to commune with your gods?” Halzam said.
Krug smiled and stepped forward. “No, Tarka is upset over um, the external forces of the world. So anyway, why are you confronting us now? We know you’ve been following us.”
“Other than a few birds or small creatures, and us, the four of you are the only living beings in this area. We’ve been tasked by our order to keep the living away from the tainted parts of the forest. We followed you to make sure you didn’t enter the heavily tainted areas, so that you wouldn’t be contaminated by the foul magics of this area.”
“We’re not the only living beings in this area,” Berryl said, “our guild is close by. We’re on our way there now to hopefully get info on the stone I sto- uh borrowed from goblins.”
“We know what you’re doing, and that’s why we stopped you. I’m acquainted with your guild masters, Fonwilsia and Estelar. The area around the guild has been badly affected by the taint, and we have relocated all members to a safer part of the forest.
Cleave’s eyebrows drew closer together. “Relocated? When? My friends and I haven’t been gone from the guild house for very long.”
“The taint appeared a couple of days ago and has spread rapidly since. My order believed your guild might’ve been the cause. However, no member of the Fey Wilder uses this kind of magic, according to Estelar.”
“Of course not, none of us want to turn the forest an icky shade of purple,” Berryl said. “So where are they?”
“They are two miles to the west of here, being watched over by other members of our order.”
“Can you take us to them?”
“Yes, but before we do we have a request. The stone I heard you say you took from the goblins. May I see it?”
Berryl handed the grey blue stone to the scarred man. He rolled it around in his palm and ran his fingertips over the surface. He moved his other palm in a circle over the stone, whispering a few words, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, he wiggled his fingers over it and whispered more words - still nothing.
“This is very strange. I can’t seem to discern this,” Halzam said.
“What is that thing?” Tarka said.
“This is a Scrying Eye. It allows the user to see some area predetermined by the stone’s creator. I can sense an aura of life magic around this stone, but I can’t unlock its power. It seems there is some kind of enchantment blocking anyone from seeing what it was designed to show.”
“Any idea how we can unlock what it’s hiding?” Cleave said.
“Yes, and it ties into our request. A troll lives in these woods. He is the keeper of histories. Do you know him?”
“Uh, yeah we’re acquainted with him,” Cleave smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. Memories of his last visit to the troll and the uncomfortable questions it raised about his sexual preferences flooded into his mind.
“We would like you to visit him and see if he knows anything about what’s going on in the forest. We’d ask him ourselves, but we are busy guarding this part of the forest. He is not a user of magics, but maybe he can discern what is blocking this eye from showing what it’s meant to show.”
“Sure, we can do that.”
“Excellent, if you can find some information come back to us and we…”
Dead foliage crunched a few meters ahead of them. All turned to the noise and saw a figure in purple robes with its hood covering its face. Berryl pointed at the figure. “Those are the same kinds of robes those jerks who messed with me earlier wore.”
Cleave and the rest of his friends didn’t know who this person was, but Halzam and his coterie seemed to be familiar with them. They turned toward the person and raised their arms. A few reached into their robes and drew weapons.
“What are you doing here you foul bringer of death?” Halzam said.
The purple robed figure chuckled. “Bringer of death? Strange talk coming from a necromancer.”
“Necromancer? How dare you associate me and other fellows of my order with those foul magics.”
“Foul? You seem to be rather fond of them. Just this morning I saw you crafting a few of your ‘little friends’ to hel
p you watch over the forest.”
Cleave’s friends looked at each other then back at Halzam. “What is this guy talking about?”
“He talks about nothing but foolishness. Neither I nor any of my colleagues mess with such hideous magic.”
“Is that so? Then what do you call those?”
The robed figure pointed to an area a few feet away. Cleave turned and saw what he thought was three wolves standing among a copse of trees. However, these wolves were missing a few things, mainly their muscles and flesh. The skeletal wolves stepped onto the path and calmly trotted up to one of Halzam’s comrades.
Halzam gasped. “Abominations. Kill them before they attack.”
Halzam’s friends raised their hands and prepared to cast spells, but were hesitant. One of the wolves reached a woman in green robes. It sat at her feet and wagged its skeletal tail. Another wolf trotted up to another person in green, rose up on its hind legs and rested its forepaws against the man’s chest while wagging its tail.
“You fools, what are you doing? Destroy those creatures,” Halzam said.
“Don’t play that. Do you think these four are stupid,” the purple robed figure pointed to Cleave and his friends. “They can see through your mechanizations. Now, hand that stone you hold over to me and we can stop this foolishness.”
“We will do nothing of the sort. Leave this place immediately.”
“Hand it over or face the consequences.”
Three more purple robed figures stepped onto the path. They raised their right hands and pointed them toward Halzam. Halzam took a defensive stance, as did his fellows.
“You leave me no choice then, attack them friends,” Halzam said.
The three men standing with Halzam raised their hands and launched black bolts of crackling energy at the purple robed figures. The other figures responded by shooting red lightning bolts. Other purple robed figures emerged from the woods and launched a volley of spells. Cleave and his friends dropped to the ground in order to avoid the sizzling bolts flying over their heads.
The party covered their heads as magic flew overhead. One lightning bolt smashed into a tree a few inches away from where Cleave lay. It left a massive burn mark that sent a chill down his spine.
Cleave motioned away from the battle and his party members nodded. Cleave, Tarka, and Krug crawled away from the combat, through the tree line. Berryl stayed in place. Cleave jerked his thumb toward the trees but Berryl shook her head.
“What?” Cleave mouthed and motioned to the magic flying over their heads.
Berryl held up a finger and slowly crawled toward Halzam. The mage and his friends were so busy with the combat that they didn’t notice her sneak up behind their leader, reach up, and quickly snatch the stone from his hand.
Halzam turned, and Berryl quickly smiled at him before darting into the woods after her friends, dodging two bolts of magical energy along the way. Halzam turned to the three skeletal wolves watching the battle and commanded them to chase the catgirl.
When Berryl caught up to the party, they all hopped up from their lying positions and ran from the battle, with skeletal wolves hot on their tails.
SEVEN
The party sprinted until the sizzling of spells and shouting of mages was far behind them. The wolves kept pace with them the whole way. The group took a few turns to shake them off, but the undead creatures couldn’t be shaken. When they reached a clearing, they stopped running and drew their weapons.
The wolves stopped as well and bent their knees, preparing to charge. One of the wolves howled and both ran at the party. One came toward Krug while the second bolted toward Tarka.
Krug braced himself and readied his massive warhammer. When the wolf jumped up, he held up his shield. The creature bounced off it with a loud bang and fell to the ground. The half-giant unleashed his attack on the creature and brought his hammer down toward its skull.
The skeletal wolf recovered and hopped back, and Krug’s hammer half buried itself in the soft soil. The wolf leapt upon the half-giant’s shield and leaned forward to snap at the large man’s face. Krug lunged back and was able to save his dark whiskered chin from injury; however, the wolf’s teeth sank through his armor and into his arm.
Krug howled and twisted his body, trying to throw the creature off him, but it tenaciously hung on. Blood freely flowed from the wound as the wolf worked its claws up and scratched divots into the half giant’s leather shoulder piece. Krug stopped moving and dropped to the ground. His enemy’s skeletal head crashed into the soft soil as 500 pounds of giant landed atop it.
The wolf pulled itself from beneath Krug’s shoulder and rushed at his face. Krug stared into the wolf’s empty eye sockets as it opened its mouth. The creature’s teeth were sharp and yellow.
Before the wolf could bite down, Berryl jumped on the creature’s spine and punched its head. Her attack did no damage, but her combined actions knocked the wolf off balance and caused it to stumble and fall. Krug clenched the handle of his hammer, twirled his massive body around and slammed the head of his hammer against wolf’s skull with all his might. A small crack formed in the creature’s cranium.
Berryl quickly leapt atop Krug’s chest and he let out a sharp groan. The catgirl slashed at the wolf with her sharp claws, dealing three blows before the creature could react. She then nudged the skeleton with her foot and backed away, taunting the creature with small strikes a few inches from its nose.
The skeleton leapt form Krug and swiped at the catgirl with its sharp claws. It left three jagged, bloody lines on her arm, and Berryl responded by slashing back twice, hitting the wolf’s muzzle both times.
The catgirl quickly glanced over the creature’s face to see how much damage she’d done. Her attacks left a few faint scratches on the beast’s face, but nothing serious.
“What? This is complete bullshit,” Berryl said as she dodged an attack from the wolf.
Krug composed himself and stalked after the bony wolf as it came after the catgirl. Berryl shot a glance at the half giant, and she winked, throwing slashes at the air, a few inches away from the creature. The creature attacked back, but she kept enough distance between her and it to keep from being hit.
While the creature was in the middle of an attack, Krug bellowed and struck the creature with all his might, bringing his hammer down on the spine. Several cracks appeared in a few of the vertebrae, but the wolf held together. The wolf turned to attack Krug but was again thwarted by the catgirl when she barreled into him with a shoulder tackle.
The wolf slid to the ground, and its skull bounced against Krug’s shield. The half giant held down the creature’s head with his shield and bore his full weight down on it. Berryl hopped onto the wolf’s pelvis and held it in place.
Krug turned the hammer around in his hand, holding it backward and slamming the head down on one of the wolf’s kicking forelegs. The mighty blow produced small cracks but not much else. He continued this action several times, missing more often than he hit as the creature squirmed and kicked; but through diligence, the half giant was able to break the wolf’s legs in half.
When he was done, Berryl and Krug got off the creature. It tried to stand, but its lack of legs made the task a bit difficult. Krug slammed his hammer down on the creature several times, and after the twentieth strike, the undead beast lay in several pieces on the ground.
Cleave and Tarka had an equally difficult time with their wolf. Their swords did little damage to its skeletal body, so the elf switched to his frying pan while Tarka harassed the creature with her sword to interrupt its attacks.
Cleave landed several hits on the beast’s skull, but they were less effective than Krug’s powerful blows. There were several hairline cracks on the skeletal body, but nothing else. The wolf took several swipes at Tarka, but the kobold was able to use her excellent speed and the power of her ring to evade most of its attacks.
The two worked in tandem like this for several minutes. Cleave slowly whittled away at the wo
lf while Tarka dodged their enemy’s attacks. The kobold wasn’t watching where she was going and eventually ended up against a large number of thorny purple bushes growing from the trunk of a dead tree. She ran into them, yelped, and jumped forward. She ran directly into the wolf and it bit her maw.
Tarka let out a muffled scream as the wolf shook its head, making the kobold’s wound worse. Cleave jumped on the creature’s skeletal back and slammed his beat up frying pan against the wolf’s skull. It had little effect, and the wolf continued its relentless assault.
Red-hot rage filled Cleave. This creature was just a skeleton, why in the hell was it so resilient? The elf brought his frying pan down on the beasts head again, and again, each connection making a dull ringing sound. His strikes picked up in tenacity and speed, each one more powerful than the last.
Blood flowed freely from Tarka’s maw as she desperately pushed and kicked the creature, but her struggling was to no avail. The beast continued grinding its teeth into her flesh, exacerbating her already severe wound.
The creature tried to pull itself from beneath the elf, but Cleave moved his body with the wolf’s, staying atop it. Seeing his girlfriend’s wound made him angrier, and his strikes continued to grow in tenacity. He saw red. All he knew was that if he didn’t kill this creature, eventually it would cause Tarka to bleed out and die. He couldn’t let her die, if they died once, that was it. He had to give it all he had. Cleave squeezed his eyes shut and continued to hammer on the beast.
Time passed without him knowing, and the loud ringing of his frying pan hammering against the creature’s skull faded from his mind. Fire built in his shoulders as they grew tired from him striking the creature, but he continued his attack. Nothing would stop him from saving his love, not even the stabbing heat burrowing in his arms.
Cleave continued to pound the wolf until he felt a force grab his arms. He fought against the intrusion, but it grew stronger. The rage within him grew, and he turned to face his new aggressor, only to find Krug holding his shoulders.
The Tainted Wood Page 5
