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Haven
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Tirlanolir/D'nemy's Tales of Turgos: The Heroes of Goldfire Glen (UPDATE 7/26)
- Thread starter Canaan
- Start date
Chapter 20: A River's Might
I felt the unblinking stares of the pixies breathlessly boring into me as I focused in on the weighty words scrawled magnificently on the parchment I held tightly in my hands. I recognized all the words and could discern their meaning, but the might of the divine power trapped within them and infused into the scroll threatened to overwhelm me with every syllable I meticulously articulated.
I attempted to drown out all other stimuli save for the page before me and the sound of my own voice. I felt heavenly flames seep into my fingers from where they grasped the two ends of the unraveled scroll. With each passing word the heat intensified until it felt as if my flesh was being licked from my bones. I attempted to ignore the escalating pain knowing it was the only way to save Gabriel’s leg as well as my immortal soul. If I misread only one word, the regenerate spell would not only fail, but the power held in the scroll could consume me in celestial punishment for my arrogance.
I, at last, finished the prayer. The scroll burned away in my hands. The pixies let out a whoosh and then there was silence. I looked at my hands, believing to see my flesh hanging like melted candle wax from the wick of my bones, but to my amazement and relief, my fingers appeared unscathed.
The pixies began flitting about excitedly. The night air burst into a cacophony of color. Silhouetted under the glow, Lilian, Gabriel and Talon all lay, still sound asleep from the paralyzing toxins that laced the pixies’ arrows. I focused in on the mangled lump that protruded from under Gabriel’s waist. His leg had been torn from its moorings by dire wolves and although I had the means to keep the wound from turning rancid, neither I, nor Shale’s master, the druid Baern, had the power to regenerate a whole leg. The best Baern could do was to woodshape a fallen branch into a temporary stump by which Gabriel could steady himself and, with some effort, manage to keep pace with the rest of us. The pixie’s spokesman, named Peas-blossom, had given me the divine scroll in an effort to restore Gabriel’s leg. In exchange, I promised the pixie we would rescue his love, Daisy, who had been ensnared in a monstrous spider’s web.
I watched intently as a gray bone slowly, painfully by the look of it, stretched out from Gabriel’s wound. Fresh blood wormed around it. All the pixies began cheering. My heart, too, went up in thanks and joy, but just as I let out a cry of joy, the bone abruptly stopped its growth and shuddered. Gabriel awoke with a sickening groan.
The bone crumbled to dust.
I had failed.
There was a moment of silence as the pixies deflated from their celebration. It was soon drowned out by a growing chant.
“Again! Again! Again!” The pixies sang. I turned to Peas-blossom who’s gossamer wings fluttered by my ear. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders impishly.
“Had I another scroll...” He began, a hint of playfulness flavoring his voice . “What say you? Would you give it a roll?”
I nodded without hesitation, though my head was splitting in twain from the strain and my limbs were suddenly heavy as anvils. Peas-blossom smiled sadly, shook his head and flew straight up. He let out a shrill whistle that rose above the chanting. The little mushroom village fell silent.
“Wake up his friends.” He said. “Before Daisy’s life ends.”
An hour later, myself, Lilian, Talon and Gabriel, awake and well briefed on our quest, we headed southward through a chokingly thick clump of trees. Despite the difficulty in traversing it, the sheer verdancy of this area of forest gave me great comfort. It was overflowing with caroling birds, scampering hares and scouring squirrels. Most of Wiltangle had been all but blighted by the power of a traitorous druid named Gothgul who had been corrupted by the Witch Tree, an ancient evil that had haunted the woods for centuries. Other than Master Baern’s paltry sanctum, this glimpse of beauty gave me insight as to what had been lost in Wiltangle and what would soon crumble if we did not find and vanquish Gothgul’s influence.
But I had vowed to Peas-blossom that in exchange for awakening the others, we would rescue Daisy from a group of hungry spiders. We had no choice but to follow through with this quest before we dealt with Gothgul. Peas-blossom also promised us he would show us the way to the Witch Tree’s abode if Daisy was returned to him.
We slowly traipsed southward through the denseness, until Talon, who had been leading us in his usual silence, stopped and held up a hand. He pointed forward.
“There.” He said. “Just beyond those oaks.” I squinted in the direction he pointed, but could see nothing. Gabriel suddenly pointed.
“That?” He asked Talon.
“Yes.” The monk replied. Lilian and I shared befuddled glances.
“I see nothing.” Lilian said. “Talon, what is it?”
“A gray, cottony wall.” He said so quietly he almost breathed the words.
“Like a web?” Lilian inquired.
Both he and Gabriel nodded.
“This way.” Talon ordered, and then bounded away. We kept up as best we could. Talon’s training had bestowed upon him the ability to pass over terrain at alarming speeds. Gabriel heaved as he skipped along on his wooden leg. I slowed my pace just enough to keep stride with Gabriel. Not out of pity, but out of practicality. He was a Priest of Canaan and an exceptionally gifted healer. If he was allowed to lag behind and become lost, I feared our chances at surviving the quest before us would be horribly reduced.
I looked ahead and spotted Talon. He had stopped. Then I saw it. A dusty gray wall hung between two dead trunks. Intermittently, a soft yellow and white light flickered deep within the wall, like the face of a daisy smothered by fog.
Forgetting Gabriel altogether I hurried forward, pointing at the flickers.
“That must be her!” I said to Talon. He raised a finger and tapped it on his lips.
“Yes.” He whispered. “And we must assume she is not alone.”
Lilian slowly drew her blade to muffle any sound it might produce scraping along her sheath.
“It doesn’t matter.” She said. “We do this quickly and hurry her back to the pixies.”
Without warning she slashed violently at the wall, cutting several inches of webbing away, but by doing so, cocooned her sword in a dulling silky blob.
“I do not think that will work.” Talon said. Lilian scowled and proceeded to rub the blade on an adjacent trunk.
I heard a sharp spark behind me. Talon and I turned to see Gabriel leaning over an old twisted branch. He held a ball of flint and was scraping it over a band of steel. Sparks showered over the branch. When they hit a fire ignited on the end of the wood. Gabriel reached out, took up the branch and hobbled toward us.
“Won’t that also burn Daisy?” I asked.
“We’ll have to be careful. And quick.” He said as he hit the web with the fire. The strands curled out of our way as the flames took hold. Gabriel stepped forward, swinging the makeshift torch back and forth, cutting a path.
Bloated silhouettes gathered above and around us. Long, spindly legs, taut and erect, warned us not to take another step, but the fires were already spreading outward, pushing the monsters back. Dust clogged black smoke billowed around me. I could make out a chorus of hisses that chillingly, if harmlessly, spat out from the cowed spiders.
Then I heard a scream, like that of a terrified little girl. The yellow and white lights no longer flickered, but pulsated like the remnants of an explosion. I leapt forward. Forgetting the stickiness of the webs and ignoring the searing, icy stabs of the fires that threatened to consume me, I reached out toward the colors. I tore through the burning wall, knowing a part of me was on fire, but wishing for nothing else but to save this innocent from an awful fate.
At last I could make out a slender, diminutive figure, bound within a sock of webbing a few more paces ahead of me. I lashed out. It was only then that I saw one of my hands wreathed in orange flames. I tucked it under my arm and slammed it into my pit. The fire immediately extinguished in a puff of smoke. I ignored the pain as I reached out with my other hand. It had been luckily spared from the fire.
My hand closed in around the screaming pixie. I pulled back, tearing her little cocoon from the web just as the flames closed in around me.
As I turned, all I could see was devilish dancing red and orange heads. I threw my cloak over Daisy, tucked my chin into my chest and barreled forward through the fire. Something grabbed my hand and I was pulled violently forward.
When I opened my eyes I could see Talon staring placidly at me. His hands were still grasping my arm. He was dragging me clear of the conflagration. Lilian was on my right and Gabriel on my left. We were all running.
Under my cloak, Daisy coughed.
“I got her.” I said before a wave of coughing, spurred by the clouds of smoke I had swallowed, drowned my further attempts at talking.
“Good.” I heard Lilian breathlessly say as she ran. “Now let’s get out of this cursed place.”
Webs quickly burn and the fires they produce quickly extinguish. The remainder of Wiltangle was left untouched by Gabriel’s tactic. The giant spiders who called the sheets of webbing their home, however, were utterly obliterated.
We ran back to the pixies’ mushroom village. When we arrived, covered in soot and ash, we were greeted with silence. I had nearly forgotten about our quarry under my cloak until I felt a stir. Tossing the cloak aside, little Daisy, still bound in webs, looked up at me, clearly annoyed.
“Forgive me, little one.” I said. “Let me help you out of that cocoon.”
“No!” She howled and began screaming.
The village suddenly roared into an avalanche of flutters and blinking, colorful lights. Peas-blossom’s blue orb flew up at me.
“Daisy!” He gasped. “You’re back! You’re saved!”
“Please, Peas-blossom!” She cried. “Free me from this one.” She pointed at me. “He is most depraved!”
I looked back at Lilian, Talon and Gabriel who were all stifling laughs. I was at a loss as to what was so funny about Daisy’s baseless accusation as to the nature of my character.
“You did say you wanted her out of that cocoon.” Talon glibly said.
My burned hand healed by Gabriel’s prayer to Canaan, we gathered at a mound just outside the pixie’s village. With much thanks and after a heaping of delicious and filling sweetcakes, Peas-blossom, with a freed Daisy bobbing at his side, thanked us profusely and promptly paid the debt he had promised.
Talon took hold of the six copper nails and tucked them into a pocket sewn into his robe. In addition to the nails, Peas-blossom presented us with a dozen good berries that, when eaten, would heal small wounds, and a potion he claimed would render the imbiber invisible for a time. He told us the Witch Tree’s abode lies to the south and to follow Tangle river “First to the west, then to the south, then to the west again.” The directions were committed immediately to my memory, not that I am unusually gifted with such things, but more so from the fact that it was only time I remembered him speaking out of the bounds of a rhyming couplet.
With the happy waves and dancing globes of the pixies far behind us, we headed south until we finally came to a wide and deep rushing Tangle River. The roar of the churning waters was so loud it nearly drowned out our ability to converse with each other. We found we were forced to shout if we were to be heard at all.
“Baern spoke of a fallen log that straddles the river!” Gabriel shouted. “We should try to find that first!”
Talon again led the way. We headed west, the rough waters to our left and the wall of trees to our right. In a matter of just a few steps, the fertile copses that surrounded the pixie’s mushroom village gave way to the desiccated, graying husks of dead trees that made up the vast majority of Wiltangle Forest.
“There!” Talon shouted, pointing ahead. Just on the foot of the horizon I spotted the butt of a colossal fallen tree. It spanned the entire width of the river. The violent current flowed harmlessly underneath it by a good fifteen feet. Even so, I worried how steady the bridge was given that neither side was anchored. All it had keeping it in place was its massive weight. If that weight were to change, I wondered, by our passing, would the log teeter or roll, sending us into the racing river in the process?
I soon learned that Talon shared my concerns for as we reached the edge of the bridge, he stopped us.
“I should go first.” He said without provocation. “To test its resilience. Stay here.”
Without another word, he jumped on the log and slowly began walking across. Each step was deliberate and controlled. His gaze remained fixed forward. His arms dangled loosely at his side. I realized I was holding my breath watching him. I forced myself to relax. I looked over at Lilian and Gabriel who were also holding their breath. I smiled inwardly, realizing I wasn’t the only one feeling so tense, and looked back over toward Talon.
He had made it to the other side. He leapt off the log and waved to us.
“It’s narrow!” He yelled, his voice muffled by the waves. “But it’s sturdy enough! Take it slow and you should be fine. Go one at a time, just to be safe!”
Gabriel volunteered to go next. With Lilian’s help, he climbed up onto the log and stood there for a moment, getting his balance. He finally took his first, cautionary step, then stopped again to regain his balance. This went on for several grueling moments. Each step was labored, halting and excruciatingly slow.
A solitary, boney broken branch protruded upwards from the fallen log at its center. Gabriel inched to it, his hands outstretched like a toddler reaching for his mother’s soothing embrace. It was the only handhold for the entire stretch of the bridge and it was clear by Gabriel’s increasingly fatigued gait that he wished to make good use of it. Lilian was quick to lend support to her brother’s plan.
“Rest at the branch!” She yelled out. “Get your strength back before continuing! Be patient! You are doing very well!”
Gabriel turned back to us. His face was splotched with effort. His teeth were clinched and barred. Spittle danced down his chin in thick globs. He curtly nodded and turned back, again reaching out for the branch.
He was merely a step away. He swung his wooden leg outward in a motion he had been successfully utilizing up until this point, but on the inward swing, his good leg faltered and his knee inexplicably lurched forward, dissolving the necessary space for the wooden stump to clear the top of the log safely.
The stump hit the side of the bridge. Gabriel gave a shout, his arms flailing. Talon leapt back up onto the bridge and bounded for the priest, but he was too late.
Lilian and I both cried out to Canaan for help. She followed Talon’s lead and jumped fearlessly onto the bridge, all fear for her own safety transferred to her brother.
They were both, tragically, too slow. Gabriel fell into the rushing river with a splash and the waves took him. Lilian clumsily reached out for her brother at the point where he fell. Talon hurried up beside her, lunging forward to grab her waist and prevent her from succumbing to her brother’s fate. But even the amazing speed and skill of the monk proved futile, for Lilian slipped on a slab of bark loosened by Gabriel’s fall, and she tumbled into the water.
The violent current pulled them westward. Talon cupped his hands over his eyes, watching their bobbing heads and thrashing hands vanish in the horizon. Ignoring me, the ascetic tore off to the far side of the bridge and ran westward along the bank.
I watched impotently as Talon disappeared from my view. I was at a loss for what to do. Laden with armor and a heavy mace, as well as a backpack distended with a useless assortment of supplies, I thought of stripping my burden from me and diving into the river after them.
Then wisdom reminded me I could not swim.
I looked at the far side of the bridge, took a deep breath and climbed up onto the log. I prayed to Canaan to steady my stride and ran across, trying to forget the narrowness, the rushing waters, my own lack of grace and agility, focusing only on getting across and saving my friends.
Before I knew it, I was falling off the far side of the bridge, prepared in that fractured, frightened moment to be torn away by the current, but to my surprise and relief, I hit rock hard ground and dusty, dead grass.
Spitting the dirt from my mouth, I stood up. Blood leaked through some scrapes in my palms. I ignored the ensuing stings and ran westward along the bank, following the path of the vanished Talon, images of Gabriel and Lilian, washing up onto the banks, their lungs bloated with river water, their eyes staring lifeless to an ambivalent sky, haunted my every hurried step.
I soon came to a fork in the river. One tributary continued west, while the other turned south. I spotted Talon on the bank by the diverging streams. He must have seen me coming, for his hands were waving urgently.
I waved back, continuing to run. He balled both his hands into fists, and then pointed southward, thrusting his arms in that direction. I nodded and waved in response. He dropped his arms and tore off to the south. In a blur of gray, he again vanished from my view.
I ran after him coming upon the southward bank in a matter of moments. Winded from the run, I bit down my growing fatigue, took another deep breath to placate my griping sides and chest, and continued the blind chase. A few seconds later I spotted Talon. He was bounding for a second fallen log that straddled the river. He was looking northward, upstream. I followed his gaze, never slowing my gait, and saw with much relief both Lilian and Gabriel, their heads still above the surface, their arms still thrashing about.
They were still in great danger, but at least they were alive. Talon leapt up onto the fallen log and positioned himself to intercept them both.
I doubled my effort to catch up with him, wishing to assist in any way I could.
Talon lay down on the bridge. He stretched out his arms and flexed his fingers in an attempt to make them as long as humanly possible. Gabriel and Lilian, spotting Talon’s efforts, attempted to shunt themselves over to his waiting grasp. The current was still very strong, but they both managed to swim well enough to position themselves directly in line with the monk’s hands.
Then with horror I watched helplessly as the log upon which Talon lay suddenly burst into flames. The fire was laced and edged with curdling black lines. A firetrap. And a tainted one at that. This was clearly the work of Gothgul’s madness.
Talon let out no scream, no cry of pain or terror. I feared the explosion had completely incinerated him, but as the fire cleared I saw Talon still laying on the log, his face and exposed arms swathed with blackened, oozing burns. He had not moved, not even flinched. This was truly a man of extraordinary resolve and strength.
I will never forget the selflessness and heroism he demonstrated in that moment. If only his effort would have reaped the desired fruit.
Despite the best efforts from all three, Lilian and Gabriel failed to connect with Talon’s reach. They passed under the bridge, the current pulling them further south.
Talon stood, fingers of smoke twisting upward and outward from his smoldering frame. He twisted around marking Gabriel and Lilian’s plight. He tore his burnt robes off him and threw them into the water, then bounded off the bridge, landing on the west side of the river.
I hurried up to the bridge, finally catching up with him. Without thinking, I leapt up onto the fallen log and rushed across. A blackened line traced around the silhouette of where Talon laid a moment prior. I jumped over it, closed my eyes, prepared for the explosion, but none came. Then I remembered from my studies that once a firetrap is triggered, its powers are gone until recast.
Talon rushed southward. I called out to him as I leapt off the bridge. He ignored me, continuing his run. I called out again, this time summoning up a more commanding voice. Nearly the whole of his flesh was covered in burns and he was in no condition to fly off without treating his burns.
“Talon!” I commanded, my voice cracking with fatigue. “Please! Wait for me! You are horribly wounded! Let me help you!” Then I corrected myself. “Let Canaan help you!”
“They will drown if I do not reach them in time!” He hollered back as he bound forward, widening the gap between us. As I ran I prayed to Canaan to give me strength.
Almost in answer, I felt a sudden rush of energy. Sweat streamed from my forehead and slid down from my armor clad shoulders and arms, but all the strain of effort that dogged my pace vanished in a rush of bliss that wrapped around my temples and cleared away any and all doubt.
I felt power coursing through me. Canaan’s grace had entered me and granted me deeper wisdom, a more profound understanding of His strength and will, and I felt I had taken a singularly potent step closer to Him.
Up ahead, another stream broke from the southern river. It stretched to the west. Shallow, white plumes of the river broke over a line of sharp stones that were embedded in the southern tributary just to the south of the westward river.
Talon, naked but for a loincloth, dove into the westward stream and swam across to the far side. He pulled himself up to the bank and headed for the sharp stones. Lilian and Gabriel, still jailed by the rough current, slammed into the stones, and were raked across the jagged surface.
But the current finally freed them. Gabriel was not moving, but Lilian was pulling herself to her feet as Talon closed in to help.
Both of their efforts were interrupted by a piercing howl that wafted from a thick copse of dead trees behind them. It was soon joined by others.
“More dire wolves.” I thought, but my swift assessment was instantly dashed. Dread seeped in under my blissful state as several men emerged from the copse.
They were covered entirely in mangy, brown fur. Their feet and hands were horribly elongated and bedecked with wide yellow claws caked with browning blood. Their faces were void of all humanity, mutated as they were into the cruel mien of rabid wolves.
The madness of Gothgul and the twisted curses of the Witch Tree. I beheld the fate of Baern’s druidic friends with a mixture of pity and fury.
Gabriel began to stir on the rocks that held him. Talon hurriedly assisted Lilian to her feet as she gathered her strength enough to draw her blade as the first werewolf pounced.
I raced up to the edge of the westward flowing river, sliding down the steep bank until my feet were submerged in the churning waters. Inches ahead, the river’s shelf plunged into bottomless shadow. I was cut off from the others.
More werewolves emerged from the woods. They closed in around Talon and Lilian, tongues hungrily massaging their bared fangs.
I prayed to Canaan, reaching deep, trawling for aid in the coming conflict.
I felt the unblinking stares of the pixies breathlessly boring into me as I focused in on the weighty words scrawled magnificently on the parchment I held tightly in my hands. I recognized all the words and could discern their meaning, but the might of the divine power trapped within them and infused into the scroll threatened to overwhelm me with every syllable I meticulously articulated.
I attempted to drown out all other stimuli save for the page before me and the sound of my own voice. I felt heavenly flames seep into my fingers from where they grasped the two ends of the unraveled scroll. With each passing word the heat intensified until it felt as if my flesh was being licked from my bones. I attempted to ignore the escalating pain knowing it was the only way to save Gabriel’s leg as well as my immortal soul. If I misread only one word, the regenerate spell would not only fail, but the power held in the scroll could consume me in celestial punishment for my arrogance.
I, at last, finished the prayer. The scroll burned away in my hands. The pixies let out a whoosh and then there was silence. I looked at my hands, believing to see my flesh hanging like melted candle wax from the wick of my bones, but to my amazement and relief, my fingers appeared unscathed.
The pixies began flitting about excitedly. The night air burst into a cacophony of color. Silhouetted under the glow, Lilian, Gabriel and Talon all lay, still sound asleep from the paralyzing toxins that laced the pixies’ arrows. I focused in on the mangled lump that protruded from under Gabriel’s waist. His leg had been torn from its moorings by dire wolves and although I had the means to keep the wound from turning rancid, neither I, nor Shale’s master, the druid Baern, had the power to regenerate a whole leg. The best Baern could do was to woodshape a fallen branch into a temporary stump by which Gabriel could steady himself and, with some effort, manage to keep pace with the rest of us. The pixie’s spokesman, named Peas-blossom, had given me the divine scroll in an effort to restore Gabriel’s leg. In exchange, I promised the pixie we would rescue his love, Daisy, who had been ensnared in a monstrous spider’s web.
I watched intently as a gray bone slowly, painfully by the look of it, stretched out from Gabriel’s wound. Fresh blood wormed around it. All the pixies began cheering. My heart, too, went up in thanks and joy, but just as I let out a cry of joy, the bone abruptly stopped its growth and shuddered. Gabriel awoke with a sickening groan.
The bone crumbled to dust.
I had failed.
There was a moment of silence as the pixies deflated from their celebration. It was soon drowned out by a growing chant.
“Again! Again! Again!” The pixies sang. I turned to Peas-blossom who’s gossamer wings fluttered by my ear. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders impishly.
“Had I another scroll...” He began, a hint of playfulness flavoring his voice . “What say you? Would you give it a roll?”
I nodded without hesitation, though my head was splitting in twain from the strain and my limbs were suddenly heavy as anvils. Peas-blossom smiled sadly, shook his head and flew straight up. He let out a shrill whistle that rose above the chanting. The little mushroom village fell silent.
“Wake up his friends.” He said. “Before Daisy’s life ends.”
An hour later, myself, Lilian, Talon and Gabriel, awake and well briefed on our quest, we headed southward through a chokingly thick clump of trees. Despite the difficulty in traversing it, the sheer verdancy of this area of forest gave me great comfort. It was overflowing with caroling birds, scampering hares and scouring squirrels. Most of Wiltangle had been all but blighted by the power of a traitorous druid named Gothgul who had been corrupted by the Witch Tree, an ancient evil that had haunted the woods for centuries. Other than Master Baern’s paltry sanctum, this glimpse of beauty gave me insight as to what had been lost in Wiltangle and what would soon crumble if we did not find and vanquish Gothgul’s influence.
But I had vowed to Peas-blossom that in exchange for awakening the others, we would rescue Daisy from a group of hungry spiders. We had no choice but to follow through with this quest before we dealt with Gothgul. Peas-blossom also promised us he would show us the way to the Witch Tree’s abode if Daisy was returned to him.
We slowly traipsed southward through the denseness, until Talon, who had been leading us in his usual silence, stopped and held up a hand. He pointed forward.
“There.” He said. “Just beyond those oaks.” I squinted in the direction he pointed, but could see nothing. Gabriel suddenly pointed.
“That?” He asked Talon.
“Yes.” The monk replied. Lilian and I shared befuddled glances.
“I see nothing.” Lilian said. “Talon, what is it?”
“A gray, cottony wall.” He said so quietly he almost breathed the words.
“Like a web?” Lilian inquired.
Both he and Gabriel nodded.
“This way.” Talon ordered, and then bounded away. We kept up as best we could. Talon’s training had bestowed upon him the ability to pass over terrain at alarming speeds. Gabriel heaved as he skipped along on his wooden leg. I slowed my pace just enough to keep stride with Gabriel. Not out of pity, but out of practicality. He was a Priest of Canaan and an exceptionally gifted healer. If he was allowed to lag behind and become lost, I feared our chances at surviving the quest before us would be horribly reduced.
I looked ahead and spotted Talon. He had stopped. Then I saw it. A dusty gray wall hung between two dead trunks. Intermittently, a soft yellow and white light flickered deep within the wall, like the face of a daisy smothered by fog.
Forgetting Gabriel altogether I hurried forward, pointing at the flickers.
“That must be her!” I said to Talon. He raised a finger and tapped it on his lips.
“Yes.” He whispered. “And we must assume she is not alone.”
Lilian slowly drew her blade to muffle any sound it might produce scraping along her sheath.
“It doesn’t matter.” She said. “We do this quickly and hurry her back to the pixies.”
Without warning she slashed violently at the wall, cutting several inches of webbing away, but by doing so, cocooned her sword in a dulling silky blob.
“I do not think that will work.” Talon said. Lilian scowled and proceeded to rub the blade on an adjacent trunk.
I heard a sharp spark behind me. Talon and I turned to see Gabriel leaning over an old twisted branch. He held a ball of flint and was scraping it over a band of steel. Sparks showered over the branch. When they hit a fire ignited on the end of the wood. Gabriel reached out, took up the branch and hobbled toward us.
“Won’t that also burn Daisy?” I asked.
“We’ll have to be careful. And quick.” He said as he hit the web with the fire. The strands curled out of our way as the flames took hold. Gabriel stepped forward, swinging the makeshift torch back and forth, cutting a path.
Bloated silhouettes gathered above and around us. Long, spindly legs, taut and erect, warned us not to take another step, but the fires were already spreading outward, pushing the monsters back. Dust clogged black smoke billowed around me. I could make out a chorus of hisses that chillingly, if harmlessly, spat out from the cowed spiders.
Then I heard a scream, like that of a terrified little girl. The yellow and white lights no longer flickered, but pulsated like the remnants of an explosion. I leapt forward. Forgetting the stickiness of the webs and ignoring the searing, icy stabs of the fires that threatened to consume me, I reached out toward the colors. I tore through the burning wall, knowing a part of me was on fire, but wishing for nothing else but to save this innocent from an awful fate.
At last I could make out a slender, diminutive figure, bound within a sock of webbing a few more paces ahead of me. I lashed out. It was only then that I saw one of my hands wreathed in orange flames. I tucked it under my arm and slammed it into my pit. The fire immediately extinguished in a puff of smoke. I ignored the pain as I reached out with my other hand. It had been luckily spared from the fire.
My hand closed in around the screaming pixie. I pulled back, tearing her little cocoon from the web just as the flames closed in around me.
As I turned, all I could see was devilish dancing red and orange heads. I threw my cloak over Daisy, tucked my chin into my chest and barreled forward through the fire. Something grabbed my hand and I was pulled violently forward.
When I opened my eyes I could see Talon staring placidly at me. His hands were still grasping my arm. He was dragging me clear of the conflagration. Lilian was on my right and Gabriel on my left. We were all running.
Under my cloak, Daisy coughed.
“I got her.” I said before a wave of coughing, spurred by the clouds of smoke I had swallowed, drowned my further attempts at talking.
“Good.” I heard Lilian breathlessly say as she ran. “Now let’s get out of this cursed place.”
Webs quickly burn and the fires they produce quickly extinguish. The remainder of Wiltangle was left untouched by Gabriel’s tactic. The giant spiders who called the sheets of webbing their home, however, were utterly obliterated.
We ran back to the pixies’ mushroom village. When we arrived, covered in soot and ash, we were greeted with silence. I had nearly forgotten about our quarry under my cloak until I felt a stir. Tossing the cloak aside, little Daisy, still bound in webs, looked up at me, clearly annoyed.
“Forgive me, little one.” I said. “Let me help you out of that cocoon.”
“No!” She howled and began screaming.
The village suddenly roared into an avalanche of flutters and blinking, colorful lights. Peas-blossom’s blue orb flew up at me.
“Daisy!” He gasped. “You’re back! You’re saved!”
“Please, Peas-blossom!” She cried. “Free me from this one.” She pointed at me. “He is most depraved!”
I looked back at Lilian, Talon and Gabriel who were all stifling laughs. I was at a loss as to what was so funny about Daisy’s baseless accusation as to the nature of my character.
“You did say you wanted her out of that cocoon.” Talon glibly said.
My burned hand healed by Gabriel’s prayer to Canaan, we gathered at a mound just outside the pixie’s village. With much thanks and after a heaping of delicious and filling sweetcakes, Peas-blossom, with a freed Daisy bobbing at his side, thanked us profusely and promptly paid the debt he had promised.
“Heroes true and happily thee,
of many thanks I offer free.
Many dangers here are true
And more to face before you’re through
Gothgul festers to the South
The Witch Tree’s lies stuffed in his mouth
Power it takes to set him free
From the dark deceit of the Witch’s Tree
Much I’ve learned and much I know.
To you this wisdom I now bestow,
To poison her roots and choke her heart
May these nails six give you a start.
Forged from pennies of purest copper
Aim for her roots and that will stop her
Drive them deep by fist or hammer
The blessed powers are sure to damn her.
Heed the warning but not the doom
Make this forest not a tomb
Where there is death, let life regain
And beauty prevail and goodness reign.”
of many thanks I offer free.
Many dangers here are true
And more to face before you’re through
Gothgul festers to the South
The Witch Tree’s lies stuffed in his mouth
Power it takes to set him free
From the dark deceit of the Witch’s Tree
Much I’ve learned and much I know.
To you this wisdom I now bestow,
To poison her roots and choke her heart
May these nails six give you a start.
Forged from pennies of purest copper
Aim for her roots and that will stop her
Drive them deep by fist or hammer
The blessed powers are sure to damn her.
Heed the warning but not the doom
Make this forest not a tomb
Where there is death, let life regain
And beauty prevail and goodness reign.”
Talon took hold of the six copper nails and tucked them into a pocket sewn into his robe. In addition to the nails, Peas-blossom presented us with a dozen good berries that, when eaten, would heal small wounds, and a potion he claimed would render the imbiber invisible for a time. He told us the Witch Tree’s abode lies to the south and to follow Tangle river “First to the west, then to the south, then to the west again.” The directions were committed immediately to my memory, not that I am unusually gifted with such things, but more so from the fact that it was only time I remembered him speaking out of the bounds of a rhyming couplet.
With the happy waves and dancing globes of the pixies far behind us, we headed south until we finally came to a wide and deep rushing Tangle River. The roar of the churning waters was so loud it nearly drowned out our ability to converse with each other. We found we were forced to shout if we were to be heard at all.
“Baern spoke of a fallen log that straddles the river!” Gabriel shouted. “We should try to find that first!”
Talon again led the way. We headed west, the rough waters to our left and the wall of trees to our right. In a matter of just a few steps, the fertile copses that surrounded the pixie’s mushroom village gave way to the desiccated, graying husks of dead trees that made up the vast majority of Wiltangle Forest.
“There!” Talon shouted, pointing ahead. Just on the foot of the horizon I spotted the butt of a colossal fallen tree. It spanned the entire width of the river. The violent current flowed harmlessly underneath it by a good fifteen feet. Even so, I worried how steady the bridge was given that neither side was anchored. All it had keeping it in place was its massive weight. If that weight were to change, I wondered, by our passing, would the log teeter or roll, sending us into the racing river in the process?
I soon learned that Talon shared my concerns for as we reached the edge of the bridge, he stopped us.
“I should go first.” He said without provocation. “To test its resilience. Stay here.”
Without another word, he jumped on the log and slowly began walking across. Each step was deliberate and controlled. His gaze remained fixed forward. His arms dangled loosely at his side. I realized I was holding my breath watching him. I forced myself to relax. I looked over at Lilian and Gabriel who were also holding their breath. I smiled inwardly, realizing I wasn’t the only one feeling so tense, and looked back over toward Talon.
He had made it to the other side. He leapt off the log and waved to us.
“It’s narrow!” He yelled, his voice muffled by the waves. “But it’s sturdy enough! Take it slow and you should be fine. Go one at a time, just to be safe!”
Gabriel volunteered to go next. With Lilian’s help, he climbed up onto the log and stood there for a moment, getting his balance. He finally took his first, cautionary step, then stopped again to regain his balance. This went on for several grueling moments. Each step was labored, halting and excruciatingly slow.
A solitary, boney broken branch protruded upwards from the fallen log at its center. Gabriel inched to it, his hands outstretched like a toddler reaching for his mother’s soothing embrace. It was the only handhold for the entire stretch of the bridge and it was clear by Gabriel’s increasingly fatigued gait that he wished to make good use of it. Lilian was quick to lend support to her brother’s plan.
“Rest at the branch!” She yelled out. “Get your strength back before continuing! Be patient! You are doing very well!”
Gabriel turned back to us. His face was splotched with effort. His teeth were clinched and barred. Spittle danced down his chin in thick globs. He curtly nodded and turned back, again reaching out for the branch.
He was merely a step away. He swung his wooden leg outward in a motion he had been successfully utilizing up until this point, but on the inward swing, his good leg faltered and his knee inexplicably lurched forward, dissolving the necessary space for the wooden stump to clear the top of the log safely.
The stump hit the side of the bridge. Gabriel gave a shout, his arms flailing. Talon leapt back up onto the bridge and bounded for the priest, but he was too late.
Lilian and I both cried out to Canaan for help. She followed Talon’s lead and jumped fearlessly onto the bridge, all fear for her own safety transferred to her brother.
They were both, tragically, too slow. Gabriel fell into the rushing river with a splash and the waves took him. Lilian clumsily reached out for her brother at the point where he fell. Talon hurried up beside her, lunging forward to grab her waist and prevent her from succumbing to her brother’s fate. But even the amazing speed and skill of the monk proved futile, for Lilian slipped on a slab of bark loosened by Gabriel’s fall, and she tumbled into the water.
The violent current pulled them westward. Talon cupped his hands over his eyes, watching their bobbing heads and thrashing hands vanish in the horizon. Ignoring me, the ascetic tore off to the far side of the bridge and ran westward along the bank.
I watched impotently as Talon disappeared from my view. I was at a loss for what to do. Laden with armor and a heavy mace, as well as a backpack distended with a useless assortment of supplies, I thought of stripping my burden from me and diving into the river after them.
Then wisdom reminded me I could not swim.
I looked at the far side of the bridge, took a deep breath and climbed up onto the log. I prayed to Canaan to steady my stride and ran across, trying to forget the narrowness, the rushing waters, my own lack of grace and agility, focusing only on getting across and saving my friends.
Before I knew it, I was falling off the far side of the bridge, prepared in that fractured, frightened moment to be torn away by the current, but to my surprise and relief, I hit rock hard ground and dusty, dead grass.
Spitting the dirt from my mouth, I stood up. Blood leaked through some scrapes in my palms. I ignored the ensuing stings and ran westward along the bank, following the path of the vanished Talon, images of Gabriel and Lilian, washing up onto the banks, their lungs bloated with river water, their eyes staring lifeless to an ambivalent sky, haunted my every hurried step.
I soon came to a fork in the river. One tributary continued west, while the other turned south. I spotted Talon on the bank by the diverging streams. He must have seen me coming, for his hands were waving urgently.
I waved back, continuing to run. He balled both his hands into fists, and then pointed southward, thrusting his arms in that direction. I nodded and waved in response. He dropped his arms and tore off to the south. In a blur of gray, he again vanished from my view.
I ran after him coming upon the southward bank in a matter of moments. Winded from the run, I bit down my growing fatigue, took another deep breath to placate my griping sides and chest, and continued the blind chase. A few seconds later I spotted Talon. He was bounding for a second fallen log that straddled the river. He was looking northward, upstream. I followed his gaze, never slowing my gait, and saw with much relief both Lilian and Gabriel, their heads still above the surface, their arms still thrashing about.
They were still in great danger, but at least they were alive. Talon leapt up onto the fallen log and positioned himself to intercept them both.
I doubled my effort to catch up with him, wishing to assist in any way I could.
Talon lay down on the bridge. He stretched out his arms and flexed his fingers in an attempt to make them as long as humanly possible. Gabriel and Lilian, spotting Talon’s efforts, attempted to shunt themselves over to his waiting grasp. The current was still very strong, but they both managed to swim well enough to position themselves directly in line with the monk’s hands.
Then with horror I watched helplessly as the log upon which Talon lay suddenly burst into flames. The fire was laced and edged with curdling black lines. A firetrap. And a tainted one at that. This was clearly the work of Gothgul’s madness.
Talon let out no scream, no cry of pain or terror. I feared the explosion had completely incinerated him, but as the fire cleared I saw Talon still laying on the log, his face and exposed arms swathed with blackened, oozing burns. He had not moved, not even flinched. This was truly a man of extraordinary resolve and strength.
I will never forget the selflessness and heroism he demonstrated in that moment. If only his effort would have reaped the desired fruit.
Despite the best efforts from all three, Lilian and Gabriel failed to connect with Talon’s reach. They passed under the bridge, the current pulling them further south.
Talon stood, fingers of smoke twisting upward and outward from his smoldering frame. He twisted around marking Gabriel and Lilian’s plight. He tore his burnt robes off him and threw them into the water, then bounded off the bridge, landing on the west side of the river.
I hurried up to the bridge, finally catching up with him. Without thinking, I leapt up onto the fallen log and rushed across. A blackened line traced around the silhouette of where Talon laid a moment prior. I jumped over it, closed my eyes, prepared for the explosion, but none came. Then I remembered from my studies that once a firetrap is triggered, its powers are gone until recast.
Talon rushed southward. I called out to him as I leapt off the bridge. He ignored me, continuing his run. I called out again, this time summoning up a more commanding voice. Nearly the whole of his flesh was covered in burns and he was in no condition to fly off without treating his burns.
“Talon!” I commanded, my voice cracking with fatigue. “Please! Wait for me! You are horribly wounded! Let me help you!” Then I corrected myself. “Let Canaan help you!”
“They will drown if I do not reach them in time!” He hollered back as he bound forward, widening the gap between us. As I ran I prayed to Canaan to give me strength.
Almost in answer, I felt a sudden rush of energy. Sweat streamed from my forehead and slid down from my armor clad shoulders and arms, but all the strain of effort that dogged my pace vanished in a rush of bliss that wrapped around my temples and cleared away any and all doubt.
I felt power coursing through me. Canaan’s grace had entered me and granted me deeper wisdom, a more profound understanding of His strength and will, and I felt I had taken a singularly potent step closer to Him.
Up ahead, another stream broke from the southern river. It stretched to the west. Shallow, white plumes of the river broke over a line of sharp stones that were embedded in the southern tributary just to the south of the westward river.
Talon, naked but for a loincloth, dove into the westward stream and swam across to the far side. He pulled himself up to the bank and headed for the sharp stones. Lilian and Gabriel, still jailed by the rough current, slammed into the stones, and were raked across the jagged surface.
But the current finally freed them. Gabriel was not moving, but Lilian was pulling herself to her feet as Talon closed in to help.
Both of their efforts were interrupted by a piercing howl that wafted from a thick copse of dead trees behind them. It was soon joined by others.
“More dire wolves.” I thought, but my swift assessment was instantly dashed. Dread seeped in under my blissful state as several men emerged from the copse.
They were covered entirely in mangy, brown fur. Their feet and hands were horribly elongated and bedecked with wide yellow claws caked with browning blood. Their faces were void of all humanity, mutated as they were into the cruel mien of rabid wolves.
The madness of Gothgul and the twisted curses of the Witch Tree. I beheld the fate of Baern’s druidic friends with a mixture of pity and fury.
Gabriel began to stir on the rocks that held him. Talon hurriedly assisted Lilian to her feet as she gathered her strength enough to draw her blade as the first werewolf pounced.
I raced up to the edge of the westward flowing river, sliding down the steep bank until my feet were submerged in the churning waters. Inches ahead, the river’s shelf plunged into bottomless shadow. I was cut off from the others.
More werewolves emerged from the woods. They closed in around Talon and Lilian, tongues hungrily massaging their bared fangs.
I prayed to Canaan, reaching deep, trawling for aid in the coming conflict.
HalfOrc HalfBiscuit
Adventurer
Excellent update - very exciting and gripping stuff!
Shieldhaven
Explorer
Wow. These PCs just can't catch a break! If el-remmen hadn't already claimed the name, "Out of the Frying Pan" would apply to this SH rather nicely.
Yay, update!
Haven
Yay, update!
Haven
Shieldhaven said:Wow. These PCs just can't catch a break! If el-remmen hadn't already claimed the name, "Out of the Frying Pan" would apply to this SH rather nicely.
Yay, update!
Haven
Thanks for the support! Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse.....
Chapter 21: The Witch Tree
Feral growls mixed with the churning waters of Tangle River as the werewolves closed in around Lilian and Talon. I was standing on the far side of the wide river, deep waters cutting me off from the battle.
I looked down at my belt, suddenly remembering the rope I had looped there. Yes, it should just be enough to reach the far side of the river; the only problem was there was nothing to anchor it too. I knew the only way to get across was to attempt to swim. I had thrown off my backpack to lighten my load, but knew I would not survive a moment of battle without armor, even if I managed to make my way across the river.
I stood on the bank of the river, ready to wade into the rushing current when I was stopped by a sudden realization. Canaan was with me. Immediately I felt a rush of righteous strength emerging from my very soul. I uttered a prayer to Canaan calling on His wrath to smite my enemies.
A sword, wreathed in golden flames appeared above me. I pointed it toward the battle and it obeyed my commands. I called out. “Behold! The power of Canaan! Kneel before His Eternal Holy Might or be driven to oblivion!”
The spiritual weapon spun for one of the werewolves, slashing deep into the beast’s hide. Lilian let out a shout.
“Evora!” She cried. “Hurry! My blade is useless against them! The wounds it inflicts instantly heal!” One the werewolf's claws raked through Lilian’s armor, leaving deep gashes in its wake that instantly filled up with crimson rivulets. She screamed from the pain, but kept on fighting.
Talon had been pounding with his fists. As they struck the hide of the creatures, his fists let out a short, green burst of energy, causing the creatures to howl in agony and fall back. Somehow his natural weapons were overcoming their lycanthropic immunities as they hit home.
Gabriel had finally come to his feet. The werewolves had been, up to this point, ignoring him. Seeing the shimmering spiritual weapon dancing in the air around the fray, the brawler-turned-priest said a quick prayer to Canaan and hobbled closer to the melee, positioning himself behind his wounded sister. His hands were sheathed in orbs of light and he reached out to Lilian’s wounds, healing them instantly.
I looped one end of my rope to the broken trunk of a dead tree that drooped near the riverbank. I took hold of the other end of the rope and rushed to the edge of the river. Still feeling Canaan’s Justice forged into a spiritual weapon of pure energy, I waded out into the waters, feeling the current pushing me westward.
I stopped, my eyes on the water, my ears fixated on the awful sounds of the skirmish. I prayed to Canaan, asking Him to bless my allies. Then I stepped forward, off the narrow shelf and I, laden with my heavy chain armor, dropped like a stone in the deep, rushing waters. I sank, twisted end over end by the chaotic current. Icy water poured down my throat and filled my stomach, but Canaan was with me and by His grace, my lungs were spared the deluge.
My fist held tight around the end of my rope and I felt it pull at my fingers as it went taut and kept me from being dragged any further. I blindly grabbed the rope with my other arm pushed against the current, hand over hand, climbing the length of the rope until I broke the surface of the river.
Spitting out the water that filled my mouth, I followed it with an immediate, raspy gasp for life-giving air.
I heard the horrid cries of the wolves, mixed with the sounds of Lilian’s blade slicing the air and Talon’s fists pummeling bone, and felt the presence of Canaan's spiritual weapon. I commanded it to continue its onslaught against our enemies.
“Evora!” I heard Gabriel call out. “Are you alright?”
I replied with a grunt and a half hearted nod as all my strength and focus was on the task of pulling myself up out of the churning waters.
“Let me help you!” Gabriel added. “We need you over here!”
At last I felt the shelf under my feet and I scrambled out of the river and onto the muddy bank. I spun around to see Gabriel, just feet from the circling lycanthropes that assailed Talon and Lilian, hands outstretched by the far side of the river.
“Throw me the rope!” He hollered. “I’ll pull you across!”
Exhausted as I was from the struggle, I shook the tiredness from me, grabbed hold of the end of my rope and with all my strength threw it at Gabriel. To my relief and amazement, he caught it on the first try, despite my clumsy, effeminate pitch. He pulled the rope tight and in an instant, looped the end around his waist to anchor it.
“Hurry!” He cried. Two of the werewolves heard him and broke from the fray to close in. I called the gleaming, fiery blade of Canaan over to them. It danced over, cleaving clean through one of them. The onslaught was so sudden and vicious, it managed to cower the other one. I had my window and I took it.
Grasping the taut rope that now straddled over the surface of the water, I boldly pulled myself across the racing river. The current was just as harsh, but anchored by the ad-hoc bridge, I was making it across, one agonizing pull at a time. Gabriel kept urging me on.
I risked a look up to him and spotted the cowered werewolf behind him suddenly shake off his fear and growl.
“Gabriel!” I cried. “Behind you!”
He turned just at the beast pounced on him. The rope slackened and I almost lost my grasp, but managed to hold on as the rushing current battered me about.
I called forth the gleaming blade to attack, and it obeyed, but the creature must have been ready for it, for at the last second, it twisted clear. In the next instant, it slammed into Gabriel and the two rolled onto the ground.
I managed to wrap part of the rope around my arms to improve its hold on me. Some of Gabriel’s old brawler talents must have surged back to him, for a second later, he was standing up out of the roll, one of the beast’s arms held in his grasp and with a great grunt, he threw it over his shoulder and into the rushing river.
It shrieked like a dog whose leg had been shattered as it slammed into the water and was lost under the harsh current. In the next instant the rope grew taut again under Gabriel’s grasp and I hastened over to him, mindful of the possibility the drowned creature may emerge any moment, or worse, claw at my legs in an attempt to pull me down with it.
Neither happened, and with Gabriel’s help, I managed to pull myself out of the river and scramble up the bank on the far side.
“Lilian is in trouble.” Gabriel hissed, his old anger threatening to boil over.
“Only for the moment.” I said between labored breaths. “The tide will now turn.”
I rushed over to the battle. Lilian and Talon were both in the thick of it. Talon’s hands were consumed with a mystical green energy that erupted into great flashes of light as each struck the lycanthropes. His flesh had been rended badly by the werewolves relentlessness, but he was holding his own.
Lilian, on the other hand, looked close to death. Blood poured over her armor and down her arms, covering her gauntlets in secondary, dripping crimson gloves. I prayed to Canaan to shower my allies with a mass lesser vigor, to slowly, but continuously heal their wounds for the remainder of the battle.
Gabriel limped up behind me as three of the werewolves broke from fighting Talon and Lilian to face me.
“Turn back, oh ye foes of righteousness!” I hissed. “Turn back to the pits from whence you came or face eternal perdition!”
They answered with howls and sickening chomps. I took the moment to count the ranks of the enemy. Six remained. Three lay dead on the grass. One was lost in the Tangle River’s depths. There were four of us. The odds were shifting to our favor.
There was a horrid snap of splintering bone and muscles torn asunder. Talon had wrenched the neck of a werewolf. He dropped its corpse and leapt on the back of one of three threatening Gabriel and me. The other two lunged at us, with claws and rabid jaws.
Searing pain poured into my chest as two sets of claws ripped through my chain shirt and slashed into my flesh, but I managed to feint to the left just before the creature’s cursed, disease ridden fangs closed on my throat.
I gave Gabriel a quick glance to see he had suffered identical wounds.
Talon rolled clear of us, taking the werewolf he had just grappled with him.
Lilian dodged, weaved and parried the enraged attacks of the two beasts still threatening her. Her own blood draped over her entire upper torso like a shawl. I knew she would not last long without immediate aid.
I called upon Canaan to bless my mace with his divinely magical power, transforming it, for a time, into a magic weapon. Silver light erupted from the center of the mace and sheathed the head in a mystic glow.
I luckily dodged another flurry of claws and teeth, diving out of the way just before disaster, then jabbed my mace upward, striking the lower jaw of the werewolf with so much force, it dislodged from the skull and sent the fiend spinning on the grass, whimpering in agony.
Gabriel successfully grappled his foe and pinned it to the ground.
“Help Lilian!” He called to me. I spotted Talon lifting the werewolf he bettered and throwing it, squirming and howling, into the river.
The path was clear to Lilian. I rushed up to where the same two werewolves still threatened her. I struck one of them square in the back with my empowered mace and it howled with rage and spun around at me. I took a step back and readied for it. One of its claws tore deep scratches into my side. I bit down the pain and countered its blow.
I slammed downward with all my strength on its crown. I could feel its skull splitting under the strike. Without a sound it fell forward. I stepped out of its way, letting it timber to the ground.
I cried out to Lilian, my free arm outstretched, palm up.
“Champion of Canaan! Show me your blade! Let it be an extension of His Righteousness!”
She whirled around and the flat of her blade met my palm and I gripped it, calling out to Canaan to bless it in the same way he empowered my mace. A celestial silver light transformed the blade into a magic weapon and exploded from the core of the blade’s steel. I let go.
The werewolf behind her pounced, tearing into her back with its claws. She twisted around, letting out a cry of wrath.
“By the power of Canaan!” She evoked. “I smite thee!”
Her blade, doubly strengthened by the immortal, holy power of Canaan, bit deep across the werewolf’s throat. Waves of crimson splattered forth. The creature gurgled and clutched what remained of its neck as it soundlessly fell backward.
There was a splash behind us. We turned to see both Gabriel and Talon by the riverbank, looking westward at the flailing claws of the last of the werewolves as the current washed it away.
Lilian stumbled, clearly weakened from the fight. I took hold of her shoulder to support her. Talon and Gabriel rushed to our side. Talon looked us all over, then turned his eyes to the copse from whence the werewolves emerged.
“We need to rest.” He said, winded. “That copse will have to do.”
We rested in the gloomy, dead surroundings. The ground was rough and dusty, boney branches dangled over us, long dead and leafless. Tangle River’s soft lapping provided a soothing foil to the murkiness. Sleep soon took me and I did not stir until the sun’s first golden rays broke over the horizon and filtered through the twisted naked branches.
I rolled to a stand, still aching from the wounds I took from the werewolves. I found a patch of new day sun and knelt in its warm rays, praying to Canaan. After my meditations left me renewed and restored, I found Lilian, Talon and Gabriel by the river’s edge. They had been waiting for me, having already agreed to a course of action.
Talon had awoken earlier and scouted ahead. He said the westward river twisted to the south, ending in a pool. He believed we should quickly search the pool for any clues that may lead us to the Witch Tree. If it was clear the pool would yield no immediate help, in which case we agreed we would abandon the search and look elsewhere.
As we approached the wide, serene pool, Talon suddenly stopped. At that very moment, music floated down around us. The song was supple and fragile as cottony dandelion seeds on the wind. It was then my eyes beheld the image of a beautiful woman bathing naked in the center of the pool. She turned toward us and I averted my eyes.
“Hello, my friends. Come closer.” The song beckoned. “I am Corday. I am ever so lonely. Come closer. I know what you seek and can point the way.”
Her music caressed and tickled the outer rim of my ears, the nape of my neck, massaging me down to the small of my back. I felt a hand grip my arm and push me back. I opened my eyes, half expecting to see I was in the talons of a harpy who had beguiled me into submission and was preparing to take me to its nest for second breakfast. Instead I saw Talon’s stoic face. He was pushing me away from the pool, out of view of the serenity, out of earshot of that intoxicating song.
Beside us, Lilian had taken hold of Gabriel and was doing the same thing to him. As we drew further away from the pool, the hold the music had on me lessoned and soon crumbled. I shook away the remainder of my drunkenness.
“What was that?” I heard Gabriel ask.
“A River Nymph.” Talon said. “One of the Fae. She beguiles mortal men to remain at her side with her beauty and her song. Once ensnared, the men become slaves to her, never wishing to leave.”
“She said she knew what we sought.” I said. “If she knows the way to Gothgul, then we should risk her enchantments.”
I could not believe what I was saying. Had this creature’s charms so clouded my judgment and will that I would so easily rush back to her? Luckily, Lilian’s wisdom saved us.
“Does her power affect only men?” She asked. Talon raised an eyebrow.
“I believe so.” He said with a mordant grin.
Moments later, lead by Lilian, we were again at the pool, only this time Gabriel, Talon and myself had stuffed wax in our ears we had scavenged from some candles in my backpack. All sound was completed muted. I could hear nothing but the sound of my own breathing.
I watched as Corday, this beautiful, if ethereal, spirit of Wiltangle first looked upon us as we returned with a smile, but when only Lilian responded, her smile drifted away like a leaf on the surface of a babbling stream.
The river nymph pointed northwards, behind us, and then her finger slid to the right, to the east. Lilian bowed, turned and bid us follow. Once we were clear of the pond, she turned back around, listened to the air a moment and nodded to us.
The wax dug out of our ears, Lilian told us the river nymph had shown her the way.
“Follow me.” She said and without another word, spun back around, drew her sword and marched north.
We traveled back along the shore of the river until it turned eastward, taking us back to the shallows and the broken crossing of jagged stones. We crossed it with great care. Talon went first and took an end of my rope with him. He secured it to the far side while I secured it to a tree on our end. Lilian helped her brother across, as the rocks were both sharp and narrow and dangerously slick from a thin sheet of algae that clung to their surface.
Given Gabriel’s missing leg, it made a difficult conveyance nearly impossible and after more than a few heart stopping slips, brother and sister managed to make it across. I immediately followed, taking my time with each step to rebalance myself before continuing.
At last I made it across and we continued on, following Lilian’s silent, determined lead. We broke through a thicket of dried, thorny brambles that gave way to an opened path. The air here was drenched in gloom. Nothing moved. Nothing lived but an oppressive weight that grew with every step I took.
The sky darkened. Clouds began to gather above us, seemingly trailing us. What little sun shown through the overgrowth was soon completely blocked by a gathering storm. A dreary, whispering voice rode on the wind.
“So, you come for us, slaves of Baern’s lies. Too weak and cowardly to face us himself, he calls upon you! Ha! Fools! Slaves! Thieves! Vagabonds! Come for us! We await thee!”
The voice continued to torment us as we drew closer to a clearing in the center of a circle of trees just ahead. Wind and rain battered down. We stopped just shy of the clearing’s border. A solitary shadow, vaguely human, paced before a massive tree in the center of the clearing. Even at this distance, even with the growing shadows, I could make out a cruel, feminine face weaved into the bark of the tree’s trunk.
Over the wind and rain we formulated a plan.
Talon would ingest the potion of invisibility given to us by the pixies and sneak in behind the tree with the copper nails. Knowing what I knew of invisibility, I warned him he would have to avoid any aggression until he was in place, if he fails in this, the enchantment cloaking him will evaporate and he will instantly become visible. While he positioned himself, the rest of us would distract Gothgul and the Witch Tree with a direct assault.
“You must be quick.” Lilian warned Talon. “We do not fully understand the extent of the Witch Tree’s power. I fear any delay would spell our doom.”
Talon nodded. “I understand.”
He drank the potion in one gulp. The magics took hold and he vanished.
Lilian led us into the clearing. I bestowed upon her Canaan’s guidance to aid her in fighting off any influence either from the Witch Tree or Gothgul. I did the same for myself and Gabriel.
The three of us moved into the clearing. Lightning flashed overhead. Thunderbolts rolled over the deepening darkness. Rain plummeted down in stinging sheets.
Gothgul, more beast than man, faced us, placing himself between us and his twisted botanical mistress. He wore a hood over his face. Yellow eyes flickered out from under the hood.
“So, at last you come to wrest the guardianship of the grove from me?” He unsheathed a curved blade that seemed to radiate despair from its cold steel. “Very well. But I warn you. Her power is great indeed.”
With that, a mighty wind engulfed him. The hood flew back revealing his bestial face covered in black fur. He howled. Lilian answered with a battle cry and rushed him, sword up, ready to strike.
A lightning bolt rained down on Gabriel and I, called from the bloated clouds that churned above us. Gabriel and I scattered at the last moment as the bolt slammed into the earth. I felt its numbing, burning strength, but was left only singed. I gave Gabriel a quick look. By all accounts he, too, had successfully evaded a deadlier blow.
A vile cackling split the air, breaking through Gothgul’s howls and the winds cries. Lilian, just inches away from striking Gothgul suddenly stopped. Whispers danced around us.
“My enemies.” The voice said. “My enemies. They seek to wrest from me what is mine. This I cannot allow.”
It was the Witch Tree, boring into my consciousness, trying to supplant my will and cloud my judgment. Such power, I thought. Such ancient, primal power. How can I resist it? How can I deny its very right to exist? It is older than time. Who am I to pass sentence on such a god?
The final thought broke the enchantment.
“You shall not have me, witch!” I cried out, my voice drowned in the wind and thunder. “There is no god but Canaan! Your blasphemy will not go unanswered!”
Lilian turned around slowly. Her eyes were distant, lost, drawn within. They focused on Gabriel, who had secured himself under a tree that bordered the clearing. He was quietly muttering to himself, watching his sister’s every move.
“Fight it!” I called out to Lilian. “Fight her! Trust in Canaan alone! Do not despair, Lilian Evenshire, Champion of Canaan! Do not listen to her lies!”
Thunder rolled, overwhelming my speech. Lilian raised her sword and closed in on her brother.
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HalfOrc HalfBiscuit
Adventurer
Ow! That is seriously not good ... Which is great fun for us of course!! 
Things have been a little harsh for the PCs lately. Gabriel should have died in the battle with the dire wolves, but I felt it helped the story better if his leg was amputated instead. The PCs were only in Wiltangle to bring Shale back. It wouldn't be a good story if Gabriel died again and they had to travel all the way back to Soliel on the hope that the Voice and Will would be able to resurrect him again.
With his leg amputated, Gabriel's player could still play Gabriel. But it would take a 9th level cleric spell to regrow the leg. If they wanted, the PCs could quest for this spell.
As it was, I gave them a little break by including a scroll of regeneration in Peas-Blossom's belongings. Because Evora was only 5th level at this point, there was a significant chancge that he would botch the spell or at least miscast it. But it gave them some hope. Turns out, he miscast it. Ah well. Gabriel will be one-legged for a little bit longer.....
With his leg amputated, Gabriel's player could still play Gabriel. But it would take a 9th level cleric spell to regrow the leg. If they wanted, the PCs could quest for this spell.
As it was, I gave them a little break by including a scroll of regeneration in Peas-Blossom's belongings. Because Evora was only 5th level at this point, there was a significant chancge that he would botch the spell or at least miscast it. But it gave them some hope. Turns out, he miscast it. Ah well. Gabriel will be one-legged for a little bit longer.....
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Shieldhaven
Explorer
These poor, poor PCs. It's a whole lot of kicking them while they're down at this point. I hope things eventually get better for them, but that's only because it seems like they don't have a lot left to lose.
Haven
Haven
Shieldhaven said:
Heheh, it might seem like that, but many of them remember this session as one of the most fun sessions they had. They went from 4th level to 6th level during this Wiltangle Forest experience. That's why it seems so harsh. They were way underpowered for what they were facing.
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