by Andrew Day
“Someone fell here,” Caellix noted, pausing at one spot. “They got back up and ran...”
“That way,” said Dogbreath, pointing.
“But the other four went... that way,” Caellix pointed in the opposite direction.
“And the elves?” asked Serrel.
“They split up. One followed the straggler, three more went after the larger group. This way. Quickly.” She followed the trail of the larger group.
The group ran, stealth forgotten. But they needn’t have bothered. They found the bodies not long after. For a moment, they all just stood and stared.
“Shit!” Caellix snarled.
“Looks like someone cut around them,” said Dogbreath impassively. “Took them by surprise here. The others ran them down.”
Serrel didn’t want to see it, but he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away. There were the remains of four bodies, dumped in a rough heap on the forest floor. They had been ripped apart, and barely even resembled anything human anymore. What remained of their bloodstained clothing was coloured Imperial green.
There were two large crows standing on the bodies, picking at the flesh. They had strange iridescent feathers that shimmered different colours. As the group approached, the birds looked at them haughtily with eerie green eyes that glowed in the dim forest.
Dogbreath kicked the first bird savagely. It squawked angrily and took off, followed by its partner. He and Caellix examined the bodies as the others formed a rough perimeter and stood guard. Caellix found a bronze coin still on a metal chain around the neck of one, and the remains of some sergeants strips on another.
“Beaumont,” she said.
“You can still smell the oil in his hair,” noted Dogbreath. He didn’t laugh, or even smile.
“They were killed, then they were eaten,” Caellix added, matter of factly. “Looks like the Ferine took their weapons and supplies.” She stood and wiped her bloody hands on her pants. “Come on. Let’s find that other soldier.”
They backtracked to where the group of fleeing soldiers had been divided. They took the second path, and followed the lone straggler. As they progressed, the trees in this section of the forest grew closer together. The canopy was dense and blocked out a lot of the light. Then Serrel noticed odd patches of white among the tree branches. Like thick white cloth and...
“Boy’s fast,” Dogbreath said as he examined the footprints.
“He gave this Ferine a merry chase,” agreed Caellix.
“Maybe he got away,” said Holly.
He didn’t. They found his body hanging between two trees, wrapped up in the strange white cloth like that Serrel had seen in the tree tops. Except it wasn’t cloth. It was a giant spider’s web, spun between the two trees. The soldier had run straight into it in his frantic haste, and the web’s owner had wasted no time wrapping him up tight for a future meal. Serrel could just see the spider now, lurking high in the tree branches, its mottled orange and black body just visible in its vast web. It was almost as big as he was.
“Is... Is he alive?” Holly asked, her face pale. “We stood cut him down.”
“No point,” said Caellix. “The spider’s bite is poisonous. He’s slowly melting from the inside out.”
“That’s... There has to be something we can do.”
Caellix nodded. “Brant.”
Brant sighed, and lifted his bow. He fired a single arrow at the man’s chest, and killed him. The impact sent tremors up the web. The spider stirred up above, and unfurled long spindly legs. Holly lifted her own bow to shoot it.
“Don’t,” said Caellix. “That won’t solve anything. It’ll just make a mess.”
“It killed one of the Legion!”
“It’s just doing what it needs to to survive. Killing it will just draw attention to ourselves.”
Holly held her bow raised for a moment, her arms shaking slightly. She looked ready to shoot, like she was desperate to shoot. Or scream, or hit something repeatedly until she wouldn’t have to feel anything anymore.
Slowly she lowered the bow, and released the tension on the string. She took a deep breath.
“What now?” she asked. “Are we going to take the others back to camp?”
“Too many bodies,” said Caellix. “Besides, the Legion won’t be there by the time we get back. We need to move forwards.” She joined Dogbreath where he was searching the tree line. “Well?”
“Pointy eared git’s not bad,” replied Dogbreath. “He’s like oil. Straight into the trees with barely a mark. Nearly as good as you.”
“But he isn’t me,” said Caellix with feeling.
Dogbreath looked over at her, and grinned. “No, he isn’t. Heheh.” He stayed low to the ground, looking for a sign of the elf’s passage. He came to the base of a tree, and sniffed it. Then licked the bark of the thick roots. “Hmm. He took a piss. Then he went... That way.”
Caellix stared into the forest thoughtfully. “That’s the direction they were dragging the first body.”
“Maybe they got themselves a camp. With a big pot to cook their leftovers in. Shall we invite ourselves to dinner?”
“Um...” said Brant. “Shouldn’t we continue on our way? They haven’t noticed us-”
“Yet,” said Holly.
“We could sneak by them. I mean, don’t we need to tell the others about this?”
“Tell them what?” said Caellix. “We don’t know how many Ferine there are? It’s our job to find out, then report back.”
“But... that’s rather the point,” Serrel reluctantly spoke up. “We don’t know how many of them there are. There are only five of us.”
Caellix’s dogs started growling.
“Five and three quarters,” Brant corrected.
“I didn’t take you for a coward, Fresh Meat,” said Caellix.
Serrel frowned. “I’m not a coward,” he snapped. “But true, that was before I found out elves really do eat people.”
“All elves eat people,” said Dogbreath helpfully.
“Ferine just have lower standards,” Caellix finished. “All right, Fresh Meat. You can decide. They killed at least five of our people. The sixth was dragged away, and maybe they’re dead, or maybe they’re just badly wounded and need our help. What do you want to do?”
Serrel could feel six sets of eyes, two of them canine, boring into him. Judging him. His first thought was about how badly he did not want to be in this gods damned forest, with creepy insects, giant spiders and man-eating elves. He wanted to be anywhere else. He would’ve thought, I want to go home, except even with the terror that was slowly gnawing at his mind, he knew he didn’t have a home to go back to. This, in a perverse way, stuck in a twisted forest of evil with people who mildly detested him, was his home now. He took the bronze. He was in the Legion.
His second thought was, what if it had been someone he knew that had been killed out here? What if it had been one of Pond Scum? What if one of them had been dragged away to be eaten alive by insane elves? Would he have left them to their fate, then?
Hell, what if it had been him captured by the Ferine? Wouldn’t he have expected someone to come to his rescue? Wouldn’t he have liked, in the very least, to think that someone would have considered avenging him, sad, self-centered git that he was?
There was a voice in his head, small and malevolent, perhaps echoing up through the Hollow, that said, You are not a soldier. You’re just a carpenter’s son who likes to pretend he’s a mage. You are so far in over your head, and you don’t even realise you’re drowning. You’re going to die here, and worse, you’re going to get someone killed.
Serrel sighed.
“Well, Fresh Meat?” Caellix asked expectantly.
“You’re right, Sergeant. I don’t want to be here. But like I told you before, I don’t run away, not if there is someone else out there who needs help. I’m with you.”
Caellix smiled. It was rather predatory, with a lot of teeth. “I thought you would be.”
Bra
nt slapped him hard on the back. “That’s the spirit. I mean what’s the worse that can happen to you?”
“We all end up as an elf’s bowel movement,” said Holly.
“I mean besides that?”
“You want the entire list?” said Serrel. “That could take a while. Well, come on then,” he said with forced enthusiasm. “Let’s get going. Honour and glory and all that.”
With Dogbreath in the lead, they set off in the direction they believed the Ferine had travelled, disappearing silently into the forest. Behind them, the giant spider slowly descended from its nest, and began to feed on its freshly caught meal.
They moved as quietly as they could through the increasingly dark forest, heading in the rough direction Caellix figured the Ferine had gone. They found few signs of its passage, but according to Dogbreath, and Caellix’s dogs, the elf ahead of them had stopped to urinate on several trees as it went, as if it were marking its territory like an animal. Vost and Ripper made sure to reclaim the land as they went past.
By the time they found the first marker, the sun was beginning to set, and the forest had grown very shadowy. Caellix considered this a good thing, as it would help hide their approach. Serrel didn’t bother to point out that it made other creatures sneaking up on them just as hard to spot. He just plunged after the sergeant and tried to make as little noise as possible. In this, he was beginning to feel like a complete liability.
Then Dogbreath led them to a strange white monolith, standing next to what appeared to be an overgrown trail. There was a strange elven design carved into its marble-like surface, but something had come along and vandalised it, carving four great gashes into its surface, like claw marks. Then they had pissed on it, just to get their point across.
Vost sniffed the bottom of the monolith, then relived himself on the giant stone to reclaim it as his.
“Home sweet home,” commented Dogbreath.
Serrel opened his mouth to ask the relevance of the monolith, but Caellix quickly gestured for him to remain silent. She pointed up the overgrown trail, and made a throat cutting gesture. He decided to shut up for the foreseeable future.
Caellix led them off the trail and back into the undergrowth. It didn’t take long for them to see the first signs of a camp. Up ahead there was the orange glow of a campfire, and faint voices. They crept forwards.
Suddenly Caellix stopped dead, and dropped to the forest floor, the others quickly copied her. Serrel lay almost flat, and didn’t even dare draw a breath. Up ahead, he could just make out a tall, dark figure as it detached itself from the shadows and started moving across the forest. Caellix gestured for them to stay put, then slowly began to creep forwards, stalking the new arrival. Her knife pulled its sheath with barely a whisper as she approached her prey.
Then a loud voice carried through the trees, and she dropped out of sight. The figure turned back to the campfire and called back. Serrel didn’t understand what they were saying. He thought that they might have been speaking elvish. The figure and the unseen shouter traded words for a moment, and from the way the figure’s voice grew louder and more terse, they were clearly having an argument. The conversation ended with the figure making a sound like a snarl, before he stomped back to the camp, no longer even bothering to try being stealthy.
Caellix’s head reappeared. She waved at them to stay put one more time, then crept after the fuming elf. She soon disappeared from sight.
The group waited anxiously amongst the trees for what felt to Serrel to be an age. In the dark, he could just make out the faces of his companions. Holly and Brant looked as nervous as he was, but Dogbreath was grinning broadly, battleaxe in hand. Ripper and Vost stared after their departed master, and yawned in boredom.
Suddenly Caellix reappeared in front of them, causing Serrel’s heart to start hammering even harder in his chest.
“I saw eight,” Caellix whispered to them, so quiet they could only just hear her. “One in the trees on the eastern edge, the others in some old ruins. I saw two prisoners, one in a Legion uniform. We take them by surprise. Dogbreath and Holly, come in from the south. I’ll circle around and come in from the west. Brant circle to the east with Fresh Meat. Count to one hundred, then take out the sentry in the trees. He isn’t very high up. When the others are distracted by the noise we attack. Clear?”
They nodded, and quickly unslung their packs and placed them at the foot of a tree to pick up later.
“You ready for this, Fresh Meat?”
Serrel nodded, even though he thought he was going to throw up.
“Move out. Quietly,” Caellix added. “Frae naleth.”
At that last command, her two dogs dropped low and followed her away. Dogbreath gave the others one last grin, then slunk off with Holly in tow. Brant tapped Serrel gently on the shoulder, and the two made their own way through the trees.
Brant moved slowly, but kept his eyes up, looking out for the sentry in the trees. Serrel tried to keep the man in sight as he scanned the dark for any other sentries on the ground. Meanwhile the light from the campfire grew nearer and nearer. There were raised voices yelling at one another nearby, followed by a lot of snarling and growling. At least the elves were occupied, and with the fire going their night vision would be ruined.
Brant stopped so suddenly, Serrel only just avoided walking into him. He kicked himself for being so clumsy. Brant pointed up at the trees, where Serrel could just make out the form of an elf crouched in the branches, a bow in hand. The elf was staring back at the camp, watching the argument.
Serrel waited, tense and on edge. He stared back and forth, trying to keep an eye on the sentry, the camp and the surrounding forest all at the same time. He noticed Brant’s lips moving silently as he counted to himself.
Serrel didn’t want him to finish counting. He didn’t like sitting there in the dark forest listening to elves snarling at each other like animals, but he dreaded what was about to happen. To make matters worse, a pained scream suddenly rent the air, emanating from the camp. Serrel heard the words, “Oh, Gods-,” then there was a wet ripping noise, and silence fell.
Then the elves started laughing.
“Oh, close enough,” said Brant. He stood up, bow string pulled back, and fired at the sentry. The arrow hit the elf right in the side, going up and under the ribcage. The elf let out a surprised grunt, and lost balance. He fell from the tree, bouncing off several branches before hitting the ground with a loud crash.
The laughing stopped. One elf started shouting, just as Caellix and her dogs burst into camp, and the elf went down with a thrown axe stuck in its head.
Brant turned and charged at the camp. Without thinking, Serrel rose and ran after him. Brant quickly pulled ahead, his arm reaching back to pull out another arrow. As he reached the edge of the camp, Serrel saw something move in the shadows. He saw the elf appear, a small curved knife in its hand. The elf pulled back its arm and threw the knife towards Brant, who spotted it too late.
Serrel lifted his staff, and dropped a shield over the top of Brant. It covered him like a dome, and just in time. The knife bounced off and went flying, just as Brant slammed face first into the invisible barrier and went sprawling on the ground.
The elf spun to face Serrel, yanking an axe from its belt. Serrel let the shield dissipate, and pointed his staff at the elf. It managed one step towards him, as he weaved the ether into a bolt of pure energy and fired it from his staff.
The trees were lit up green as the blast of energy shot from the end of his staff and struck the elf in its midsection. There was a loud crack as it impacted, then the elf was flung backwards, its raggard clothes on fire, and its flesh a smoking ruin.
Serrel didn’t pause, he turned back to the camp as Brant scrambled to his feet. Inside the camp the fighting was furious. Two elves lay dead on the ground as the others fought for their lives. Brant leapt into the fray, throwing his bow aside and pulled a sword from his back.
Caellix and Dogbreath were wading into their o
pponents with swinging axes. The two dogs were circling one elf together, dashing back and forth, biting and snapping at it as the elf slashed its claws and snarled at them.
Claws, Serrel realised. Some of the elves had weapons, crude looking and improvised, with handles made of bone, but they all had claws and fangs. Several of the elves fought unarmed, swiping at their opponents with their claws, ducking and weaving to avoid being struck before dashing in to strike.
He saw the dogs take down their target, Vost biting into the elf’s leg and taking it to the ground, as Ripper lunged at its throat. He noticed Holly fighting an elf on the opposite site of the camp to him, knife in one hand and a short sword in the other. Her opponent was faster than her, and dodged her attacks easily, and with a flurry of swipes had her backed against a tree.
Serrel lifted his staff and sighted at the elf, when he heard the twig snap behind him. He spun, weaving a shield over himself, just as another elf pounced at him. It was the sentry Brant had shot. Serrel saw the arrow sticking out of its side as it smashed into his shield. Its claws slid across the barrier, drawing green streaks of light in the air. It came at him again and again, roaring like an animal as it tore and hammered at his shield in a frenzy, every impact sending a shudder through Serrel’s staff.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Holly and the other elf still fighting. He saw the elf duck under a wild swing, and kick Holly in the back of her legs, sweeping her off her feet and dumping her on the ground. It rose ready to deliver a killing blow.
As his own elf threw itself once more at his shield, Serrel let the barrier fade away. The elf’s claws passed harmlessly through the air. It had been expecting resistance, and the strength of its intended blow sent it twisting to its left, unbalanced. Serrel ducked under its arm, and lashed out with his staff. He felt the wooden shaft impact into flesh, and the elf growl in pain. Then he turned, and fired a blast of energy at the elf attacking Holly.
He hadn’t had time to aim, but the bolt of energy hit it in the arm and spun it around. Holly took advantage of the moment and hacked at its legs with her sword.
