"Us 27 year olds are like fine wine. Er wait..I'm not really that good, so never mind..."
-SnowSquall
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| Chapter 3 | | | Author: | | | IP: | ip68-99-XXXX | | Date: | 08/18/03 10:08 | | Game Type: | Other | | Labels: | none | | Report Rating: , # of Ratings: 2, Max: 9, Min: 8
Lifetime Rating for Keanu_Reaver: 7.9200 |   | Unfamiliar Territory
A great mist had descended upon the forest, coupled with the fire; it caused the forest to glow a dark red. The air was stagnant and smelled of both decaying flesh and ash; Zacharim wondered if this is what Byrtum meant by a great shadow. Zacharim was left with no time to ponder, though, as Jarius, already accustomed to the changes of the forest, was urging him on.
The path Jarius chose was one both he and his brother had taken many times. It took them on a wide crescent, traveling north and slightly west so as to avoid the thick, nearly impassable brush of the deeper parts of the Windy Wood. It was well beaten by a great many horses and Night Elves in its time, and still wreaked of the Goblins who had obviously used this path to siege Padorim, which means somewhere along this very path lies the spot where the Goblins were flanked by the living dead.
Could the same fate befall us? Zacharim wondered. No, he assured himself, knowing that his brother is an excellent scout, and soon enough they would be at Brackenbelt Hills, the Human town that marked the end of the long path.
Though the path was large, the two Night Elf brothers were so well adept at stealthy travel that they were as easily perceived as a shadow in the dark. They stealthily traveled through the forest, parting the acrid odor and sharp crackle of the fire behind them. The trees were now totally devoid of life, their leaves had begun to wilt with light shades of yellow now forming at their tips. Though they appeared dead, they seemed to twist and turn, as if trying to look at the boys. Zacharim nervously looked from tree to tree with only the shadows hiding an expression of terror, but soon excruciatingly nervous seconds turned into minutes, and those minutes turned into hours, and Zacharim had finally managed to put the horrors of the forest out of his mind, so much so that it allowed his mind to wander as he drifted along only a couple feet behind from his brother.
They were making excellent time; the odor seemed less pervasive now and the glow around them less bright. It seemed that perhaps, if they were indeed lucky, they would need to nap but once before finally reaching their destination. This thought sent a warm shiver up Zacharim’s spine.
Suddenly Jarius halted dead in his tracks, and Zacharim, not noticing, crashed into his brother’s back, sending both brothers tumbling forward slightly. Zacharim looked on surprised as his brother turned around, terror printed across his face.
"I...I have no memory of this place..." Jarius said, the dark red glow on his face making him look all the more terrified.
"What?" Zacharim replied.
"This place...it's as if I have never been here before."
"What do you mean?"
"Zach! Listen to me! The trees...they...aren't where they are supposed to be!"
Jarius tilted his head down in thought while Zacharim keenly eyed the forest, realizing that the path had narrowed and no clear destination could be perceived. But they soon shared a common focus and felt a cold flash of fear arch through their bodies as they heard the sound of dried leaves crunch in the distance. They crouched down as low as possible and remained silent, allowing the shadows to envelope them, while they intently listened to the hypnotic crunching sound now approaching them.
The crunching drew closer and closer, so close that both boys easily distinguished an offbeat rhythm, as if a painful limp had stricken the creature approaching them. Their bodies tensed up as what appeared to be a Goblin warrior appeared from behind a tree...missing the upper left half of his body. Zacharim panicked, and in trying to draw his bow, he stumbled to the ground. The crunch alerted the maimed Goblin to the boy’s presence and, with his only arm wielding a sword, he slowly marched over.
Jarius soberly stood up and unsheathed his sword, while Zacharim rushed to his feet and drew his bow, standing a few precious feet behind his brother. A single arrow shot out from Zacharim's fingertips and cut through the red glow, piercing the mangled chest of the Goblin still many feet away. Though the arrow protruded through the back of his armor, he continued his rhythmic dance over to the boys undaunted. Jarius' hands tightened around his sword as two more arrows whizzed by his head and once again struck the Goblin, this time in its only good arm.
The Goblins arm flinched slightly as his sword plummeted to the ground, but, once again, his slow yet relentless march towards the boys was not deterred. Jarius knew this was his chance, and in a ferocious leap, he attacked the Goblin, burying the edge his sword deep into the right side of the creature’s neck down to its chest. But, despite the wounds inflicted upon him, the Goblin reached his right arm up and locked his spidery fingers around Jarius' neck. Jarius struggled against the Goblins hand, unable to free himself, while digging his sword deeper into the creature’s chest.
Another arrow cut through the red glow before piercing the right eye of the mangled warrior as Zacharim tried desperately to assist his now weakening brother. But it was for naught, as the Goblins powerful vice grip on Jarius' neck would not be broken. Jarius soon let go of his sword and both hands began pulling on the Goblins arm as he tried in vain to free himself.
In a panic, Zacharim ran up to the struggle and picked up the Goblins sword. Grasping it tightly and, summoning up all the courage he could find, he recklessly swung the sword and lopped off the Goblins head. The Goblins grip on Jarius' neck ceased, and the vile creature collapsed unceremoniously to the ground in a heap. Jarius knelt down, hands clutching his throat, and bowed his head with his eyes shut tight.
"No blood..." Jarius said in between violent coughs.
"Are you alright?" Zacharim replied as he began scouring his bag for a leaf sack of water to give to his ailing brother.
"I'm alright...save the water."
Jarius slowly stumbled to his feet and pulled his sword from the Goblins chest, to a very relieved Zacharim. Seeing his brother was all right, Zacharim looked down to the Goblin and witnessed just Jarius said, not a single drop of blood escaped the creature’s body! Zacharim knelt down and, with jittery fingers, took the sheath to the Goblins sword and affixed it to his own belt.
"Give me a second, there must be a way out," Jarius said as his eyes darted across the forest landscape, searching in vain for anything that looked remotely familiar.
There was not a single sign of a path now, only countless trees in every direction. The ground was the same, though, in fact the trees seemingly created a small barren circle around them. The scene was all too foreboding and Zacharim, terror now fully clouding his heart, ran over to his brother’s side.
Zacharim sheathed the stolen sword and stood by anxiously as his brother searched, but the sounds of more bustle in the distance soon caught both brothers attention. Although the bustle seemed fairly far off, it came from a great many feet, and they were moving fast.
"Brother?" Zacharim said nervously.
"Umm..." Jarius said, a fierce look of concentration printed on his face.
"T-They are coming brother..." the fear in Zacharim's voice came out as a whisper.
"Run..."
The two paused briefly, silently deciding on their path, then sprinted away in the opposite direction of the bustle. Leaping over high tree roots and rolling under low branches, the two darted blindly through the ever increasingly bright red glow. The sharp and rhythmic crunch of dead leaves beneath their feet and the trees passing them by in a haze fell on blind eyes and deaf ears as the two, driven by unrelenting fear, would not yield their charge for any excitement of the senses. In their haste, they failed to notice the trees around them, as they seemed to rotate and enclose around the brothers. Sweat now streamed off of their forehead and neck as the heat beat down on them. The trees grew thicker as they passed them, many times having to pause just to squeeze through.
Twigs snapped and limbs broke all around them, some by their own maniacal fear and others seemed to be only mere feet from them. They let the sounds guide them, often times making sharp turns one way or the other as the crunches seemed to come from directly in front of them.
They traveled this way for far too long, and Zacharim had fallen behind as his legs grew weary and began to fail, while Jarius continued blazing a path through the trees. Suddenly, a tree root snagged Jarius foot causing him to crash to the black, ash covered ground, at the edge of the tree line. Zacharim felt renewed strength in his legs, as he witnessed a black cloud rise all around Jarius, and darted over to his brother’s side. He quickly lifted his brother up from the ground and, to his astonishment, found himself in the now burnt down city of Padorim! Jarius had no time to re-orient himself as a tree branch lashed out and smacked both brothers in the back, causing them to lunge forward and into the ash covered ground of the destroyed city.
The two quickly got to their feet but the trees had already enclosed around the city so tightly that light itself could not find a way through. The fire, they noticed, had already leveled the village and moved on, though it seemed the possessed trees were not affected and had stretched mainly towards the south. A few fires still burned throughout the village, though, causing the heat to be close to unbearable. The two, side by side, took very nervous steps towards the center of the village, where the great tree still stood, now completely shrouded in fire.
As they approached, they noticed a great many bodies dangling from the branches of the great tree, attached only by steel chains wrapped tightly around their neck. As they got closer, they were also faintly able to notice what appeared to be small, human-like shadows darting back and forth from the lynched bodies, tearing a bit of flesh from the bone each trip. The smell was unbearable, rotted flesh and burnt flesh filled the air like a poisonous gas, rendering the brothers unable to move forward.
"Two little Night Elves, thought they could escape, little did they know, they are already in the belly of the beast!" A sinister voice called out to them.
The two whipped their heads around towards the voice, only to see the same caped man that took the chief's life. His arms were crossed and his eyes locked proudly on the two brothers only a tree's height away, and soon he began slowly walking towards them.
"You!" Jarius called out in anger as he drew his sword.
"So foolishly eager to fight, you will make a wonderful addition to my army...I believe we will scrap the other though," The man said, a now distinguishable grin painted across his face.
A cold shiver ran up and down the spine of Zacharim as he realized those that hung from the tree were being "scrapped". He drew his sword nervously and began slowly backing away.
"I believe you have something I want," the man said coldly, his grin now turning into a grimace as hard as steel.
"We have nothing..." Zacharim said fearfully.
"Ha! Now is not the time for games worm, that tome the wizard gave you, I demand you give it to me and your death will not be painful," he said, his pace now quickening.
"He already told you, we ha-" Jarius began to say, but was soon interrupted by the sinister man, now only ten feet away.
"I can bring you to the absolute apex of pain until you die, then bring you back to life only to have you experience it again an infinite number of times with a simple snap of my fingers if you make me mad! Now give me the tome!" The tone was as harsh and violent as the fire that swallowed half the Windy Wood.
The two brothers started slowly backing away from the man as he approached, now with a terribly sinister look on his face. While Zacharim stumbled over burnt wood as his pace quickened, Jarius began to inch in front of his brother, perhaps as if to act as his brothers guardian, or perhaps to give himself a better angle of attack. And attack he did, in a sudden burst of acceleration he dashed at the man and, in a powerful whipping motion, slashed at his face, only to have the blade of his sword halted between the mans vice-like hands.
"Pitiful," the sinister look faded away, replaced by an equally evil grin.
Again, what seemed like a bone chilling wind came upon Zacharim, but this time, instead of his senses abandoning him, they grew stronger. His eyes grew increasingly powerful and were zooming in over and over again on the mans face until it seemed he was inside his mind! Zacharim blinked feverishly, then held his eyes shut as he felt thousands of prickly tingles run up and down his body. Though his eyes were shut, he seemed to bathe in the mans mind, whimsically taking in what the man knew.
Jarius, on the other hand, was now at the mercy of the man, who had his arms clenched tightly around his throat in a powerful headlock. Jarius kicked and struggled against his bone-crunching lock but it was all in vain, he could not free himself.
Jarius finally caught sight of his once again trance-like brother and weakly yelled out, "Oh no, not again!"
Suddenly Zacharim’s eyes shot open, and a swell of confidence had risen and taken shape in his body. He quickly reached down and picked up a single log, still wreathed in flame, and, pulling out the aged tome, held the fiery log near the corner of the tome.
"What are you doing?" Jarius screamed, his voice now very weak and sounding not much unlike that of a small child.
"Let him go and show us a path!" Zacharim cried, ignoring his brother’s faint call.
The man, now with a livid look on his face, ignored the demand and stubbornly stepped forward.
"Let him go, and show us a path!" Zacharim cried, even more emphatically than last time.
Still undaunted, the man ignored the demand and began approaching Zacharim with his arm still locked tightly around Jarius' neck. Not to be deterred, Zacharim pulled the flaming log closer towards the tome, causing the man to stop dead in his tracks.
"Let him go!"
Seeing no other recourse, he began to loosen the deadly headlock on the nearly unconscious Night Elf. With his face now a light shade of blue, Jarius struggled out of the mans grip and quickly stumbled to his brothers side, gasping heavily.
"Now, show us a path out of this place," Zacharim said, now much calmer as his brother was freed.
"You will never leave this forest alive, you know this little one."
"Show us a path!"
"As you wish."
The man raised his right arm towards the brothers with all four fingers pressed together, pointing at them. Then, stiffening his arm, what can only be described as a fierce red wind began swirling around his arm from his shoulder until finally taking shape at the tips of his fingers as a small ball of fire. The man grunted slightly, and the fireball shot from his hand and blazed right at the brothers.
Jarius gasped and crouched low but Zacharim stood confidently tall as the fireball stormed by only inches from his head. The fireball exploded into the tree bulwark and effortlessly blew a gaping hole in its ranks, leaving a clear path into the forest. Though the blast was deafening, Zacharim's eyes never strayed, and even after he was satisfied what he asked for had been achieved he kept his eyes locked on the mans and slowly backed away, with the flame leaping off of the log dangerously close to the tome, towards the blistering heat of the explosion.
"You shall die...You shall die," the man continued repeating himself over and over again, even as the boys crossed the threshold of the blasted barricade and into the forest.
The boys were nowhere to be seen, but the man remained standing where he was. A small, skinny, imp-like creature with barbed hooks for hands ran up to the man and crouched low.
"Massster Daaman they gone...what to do?" He spoke in a slimy snake-like tone at his entranced master.
"They will not get far, though the small one intrigues me, have you gathered enough flesh?" Daaman said, turning his head towards the three-foot tall imp.
"Yessss! Yes master! We do now?" A rather gleeful tone could be deciphered beneath the hisses.
Daaman turned his head back towards the hole before replying with a cold, "Yes."
The imp seemed to meld with the shadows as he darted off towards the giant flesh pile, occasionally letting out a crow-like screech as he ran. Daaman glared at a group of the now zombified villagers before slowly walking towards the hole. The villagers, as if compelled by a supernatural force, stealthily scattered about throughout the forest with their master only a few feet behind. |
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