When they were finished, they cleaned up and dressed. The elven woman donned her robe, shrouding her face and resuming her air of mystery. As they were leaving, Kurkmud wished Cleave and Tarka’s party well then told the elven woman that he hoped she died in a fire.
Tarka and Cleave rejoined their party. The knowing smiles he received from his fellow party members made him feel a little embarrassed. They gathered and quietly resumed their adventure.
Cleave
HP: 51% (+10 %)
Stamina: 40%
Mana: 100%
Character Status
Healthy
FOURTEEN
The robed elf led the party away from Kurkmud’s hut, and they headed east, back toward a part of the forest the party had been to before. The party walked silently, but they shot amused glances toward Cleave. Even Lurupine, who was supposed to be grieving for the devastation of the forest, couldn’t conceal her mirth from the elf.
The embarrassment of the encounter finally became too much for Cleave to handle, and he turned on his friends. “And what the hell is so funny?” Cleave’s chest pumped up.
The rest of the party grinned and looked at each other before Krug finally spoke up. “Heard you in there, man; you and that evil elf girl were really going at it.”
“I haven’t heard moaning like that since I watched a really bad porno,” Berryl chuckled. “You must’ve had it bad for our enemy.”
Cleave looked away from the group and tried to hide his embarrassment. “I couldn’t help it. She’s really hot, and it’s been forever since I’ve had any.”
“What the hell do you mean it’s been forever?” Tarka asked astonished. “We were screwing like rabbits in our hotel room.”
“I mean it’s been forever since game me has had any. You know, this elf does have needs.”
“Apparently those needs include wicked necromancers that ravish our homes,” Lurupine said.
Cleave felt a huge surge of guilt. However, when he looked up, he saw the dryad smiling.
“What can I say; I have a thing for bad girls. Isn’t that right Tarka?”
Tarka blew a raspberry. “Me? Bad? Please, you’re the one that’s into having weird, kinky orgies.”
“I never heard you complaining about it.”
“It’s kind of hard to when she has something in her mouth,” Berryl poked Tarka.
It was Cleave’s turn to laugh at Tarka’s embarrassment. The party stopped and enjoyed the moment of mirth. A window popped up in front of the group.
Our audience is enjoying your banter but remember the forest is decaying around you.
Phil
The party looked to all of the black and purple trees then saw the robed elven woman standing a few feet ahead of them, waiting for them to continue. The party grew serious and pressed onward.
The female elf led the group east for about a mile before they took a turn into an unfamiliar part of the forest. The trees in this area grew closer together and seemed a bit more twisted. The grass was black and had a leathery feel to it.
Despite the healing effect of the sex, Cleave was still feeling exhausted. His vision became blurry, peppered with small flecks of black, the effects of in game exhaustion. He looked to his other party members and saw they were as tired as he was. Krug lumbered along, fighting to stay awake while Lurupine urged him on. Tarka grew so tired she could barely stand, so Berryl picked the kobold up and carried her on her back.
Cleave was in and out of consciousness. He allowed his mind to slip into the land of nod while his feet moved forward of their own accord. He experienced a pleasant reenactment of his sexual encounter less than an hour before, when he heard the sound of battle.
He awoke to find the purple robed woman holding up her hand toward the party. She peered into the distance and quickly rushed toward the sounds of the fighting. The party looked at each other, trying to decide what to do. Since they needed the woman to find their friends, they silently agreed that they’d better help. They drew their weapons and followed their guide.
The forest opened up into an area thinly populated by trees. The party entered to find several armored players in hand-to-hand combat while a few mages in robes on either side lobbed spells at their opposition. The party’s elven guide lowered her hood and raised her hand at one of the mages. She screamed a command word, and a lightning bolt ripped from her fingertips, slamming the other mage in the chest. He stumbled back and fell to the ground.
The darkness was so thick that even Cleave’s eyes couldn’t tell who was who. The party held their weapons at the ready but didn’t know whom to attack. The side their guide wanted to win seemed to be losing. As the battle waged on she grew more frustrated, launching lightning bolts at the battlefield, trying to shore up holes in her side’s defenses.
As Cleave was trying to figure out whom to attack, an arrow came at him. He ducked as it sailed over his head and embedded in a tree behind him. Five armored warriors charged toward the group with their weapons drawn.
“Looks like someone picked our side for us,” Cleave said as he readied his sword in front of him.
A human about his size charged him with an axe and swung it at him. Cleave sidestepped the ferocious blow and stabbed at his enemy. The elf grazed the man’s shoulder, and he stumbled back. His opponent responded with another blow that Cleave was easily able to duck.
The elf hopped forward and was inside his opponent’s guard. He thrust his sword forward and stabbed the man through the heart, quickly ending him.
Cleave was met by another opponent with a spear. This one was more cautious than his predecessor was and kept his distance. The spear wielder poked at Cleave, trying to work his spearhead past the elf’s guard.
Cleave kept his sword up and managed to bat each attack away. The fight initially was easy, as the spearman was stationary; however, his opponent began to move left and right, attacking at angles.
Cleave fought his opponent for over a minute, working his sword defensively. He attempted to approach the spearman, but the warrior created enough distance with his weapon to keep the elf at bay. Cleave’s opponent feinted low, and the elf lowered his sword to block, but was surprised by a sudden upward thrust at his throat.
The elf moved his body to the side in time to direct the intended strike toward his shoulder.
Cleave
HP: 39% (-12 %)
Stamina: 26%
Mana: 100%
Character Status
Unhealthy
Cleave grunted as the spear penetrated his armor and struck his skin. The elf backed away and raised his sword in time to parry a follow up attack.
Cleave
HP: 31% (-8 %)
Stamina: 22%
Mana: 100%
Character Status
Unhealthy
Cleave swung his sword wildly in front of him, creating an opening below. His opponent went for his legs, but Cleave just smiled. He jumped up and forward, evading the attack.
He swung his sword toward his opponent’s unprotected head. The spearman tried to move but the elf’s attack was too fast. Cleave’s sword bit into his enemy’s neck and split his windpipe in two. The spear wielder gurgled and fell to the ground, blood oozing from the fatal wound.
Cleave was approached by three more enemies. They formed a line and held up their shields. He was good with his sword, but he knew there was no way he was going to beat the well-defended, organized enemy. The elf backed away toward his allies as they fought.
The rest of the party was having similar difficulty fighting. Their earlier battle with zombies had taken a lot out of them, and they were barely holding it together.
Cleave backpedaled beside Tarka and slashed her already nearly dead assailant in the neck. He fell to the ground and the kobold huffed.
“Way to steal my kill, jerk face.”
“Don’t worry, there’s more where he came from,” Cleave motioned to the encroaching warriors with shields.
Tark
a formed up beside Cleave. Weapons came at them sooner than they expected. The elf took a battle stance and warded away blows that came at them while Tarka attempted to get around their opponents. Even in her weary state, Tarka was faster than her enemies were. However, their shields blocked all of her attacks.
The group looked for one of their other party members to help, but Krug and Lurupine were busy fighting a group of warriors who were effectively fighting off their attacks.
Cleave’s vision grew fuzzier. His stamina was dipping dangerously low. If help didn’t appear soon, he was done for. Tarka seemed to be in similar shape. She was breathing heavily, and she stopped trying to get around her opponent’s weapons, opting to defend herself instead.
The elf called out for Berryl, but the catgirl was nowhere to be found. She was probably sneaking through the battle, carving up people in the darkness. He called out for her twice more, but she didn’t come. He cursed his luck. He wished she would’ve stayed with the party and fought, but she was a flighty spirit and did things her own way.
A couple of the warriors threw quick glances behind them to make sure no opponent was there. Cleave tried to take advantage of this by saying, “Hey, Berryl!” The attentions of their opponents was thrown off enough for the elf to sneak in a couple of small attacks, but it wasn’t enough to cause them much grief.
One of the warriors blocked a sword swipe from Cleave and bashed him in the arm with his mace while a swordsman stabbed him in the side simultaneously.
Cleave:
HP: 13% (-18 %)
Stamina: 12%
Mana: 100%
Character Status:
Unhealthy
The attack took most of Cleave’s health. The elf sighed internally. It wouldn’t matter much longer anyway. In a few seconds, the last of his stamina would be depleted, and he’d be screwed. Tarka’s stamina dropped below the ten percent threshold. She dropped her weapon and fell to a knee.
Cleave stepped in front of the kobold, preparing for his death, when he saw a pair of shimmering green eyes behind the warriors. “Hey, Berryl,” he said.
“Don’t even try to pull that on us,” one of the warriors said as he went for the kill. The man raised his mace, and then he stopped, clutching at deep scratches behind his neck.
“Pull what on you? Hey, Cleave,” Berryl said as she hopped up on one of the warrior’s backs and jammed her claws into his neck. The last warrior swung his sword at the catgirl, and she spun to the side to take the blow on her arm. She bore her fangs and jumped at him.
He brought his shield up to defend himself and stopped her. However, the force of the impact knocked him over. Cleave didn’t see what happened to him, but from the screams, he imagined Berryl brutally ended his life.
Berryl joined Krug and Lurupine and was able to distract the warriors they fought enough for the half giant and dryad to get their attacks in. Together they took out three warriors and caused the remaining two to run.
Cleave looked to the elven woman who led them there, and she seemed to be happier than she was a few moments before. The soldiers on her side formed a shield wall in front of the mages who supported them. At their backs was someone in plate mail armor. He directed the attack for a few moments before storming in and taking down two soldiers trying to break through the battle line.
It didn’t take long before the other side started to lose a large number of soldiers. They quickly realized that they were beaten and ran, leaving the battlefield to the victors.
Cleave collapsed onto the ground, took a deep breath, and wiped his brow. He leaned over Tarka who was lying on her back, helpless from her stamina loss. The elf kissed her, hoping that would heal enough stamina for her to move, but her lack of response told him her stamina wasn’t going to be replaced by simple affection.
A mage in red robes walked over to Cleave and handed him two small bottles with yellow fluid. “Drink,” he said, before leaving.
The bottles had the word “small recover all” written on the side. Cleave took one and helped Tarka drink the other.
Cleave:
HP: 23% (+10 %)
Stamina: 22% (+10 %)
Mana: 100% (Already at Max)
Character Status:
Unhealthy
Tarka sat up and dusted herself off. “Well, that was terrible. Let’s not do that again.”
Krug and the others sat beside them, looking a little better after drinking the “recover all” potion given to them.
The purple-robed elven woman joined them and lowered her hood. “My apologies for the detour. My allies were in trouble, and I had to jump in. I hope you don’t mind if we wait here for a few minutes while I regain my bearings.”
Cleave said he didn’t mind, and the mage reached into a pouch and drank a few potions labelled “mana.” When she was done, Tarka spoke to her.
“So who was it we just helped? People from your guild?”
“Not quite.”
Cleave studied the other soldiers walking around, looting the corpses of the slain. He squinted, and in the pale light of the moon, he could make out reddish armor.
The man in plate mail who organized his forces walked up to the woman in purple robes and raised the visor on his helmet. Cleave’s jaw dropped when he saw the man’s square jaw, thick nose, and dark brown eyes resting beneath bushy eyebrows.
When Cleave saw the warriors in red armor, he had an inkling he knew who the man in plate mail was. He hoped against hope it was someone else, but with the way his luck normally ran, it couldn’t be anyone else.
“Padwin,” Cleave said, struggling to rise to a knee.
Padwin smiled and saluted the elf. “Cleave, imagine meeting you here. Hello all.” He grinned at the rest of the party.
“Stuff it, prick. What are you doing here?” Tarka asked.
Padwin did his best to look offended and placed an open hand on his chest. “Really? That’s how you greet me? I was just coming to thank you for helping us in battle.”
“The pleasure was certainly not ours,” Krug said.
Berryl was licking a wound on her furred arm. Padwin came over with a bottle containing red liquid. He handed it to her, and she slashed the air in front of him. “Keep your distance.”
Padwin shrugged and laid the potion at her feet. When he was a sufficient distance away, she uncorked the bottle and greedily drank it. Her wound healed instantly.
“I am appalled by your cold behavior,” Padwin said, continuing his faux air of sadness, “but I am thankful. I don’t forget a good turn.”
“What are you gonna do, not kill us?” Cleave said.
“It was never my intention to kill you. To be honest, you weren’t even on my radar.”
“Then what is on your radar?” Lurupine said, standing close to her blackened tree with her staff in front of her. “Why are you in the forest?”
“I am here on business for the Crimson Kingdom, in aid of the city of Clearwater.”
Cleave wrinkled his brow. “How are you helping Clearwater?”
“That’s none of your concern. But you can rest assured that my actions are in the best interests of the citizens of Clearwater.”
“Are the people who attacked our guild and are hurting the forest also doing what’s best for Clearwater?” Lurupine said sarcastically.
“Absolutely not. My master and I have heard about the fool offering money for natural reagents. Seems a number of necromancers have heeded the call and caused the forest a bit of trouble. A sad thing, truly; but my master and I have nothing to do with this stupidity.”
“Pardon us for not believing you,” Tarka said.
Padwin shrugged. “Believe as you wish. I have better things to do than to convince you of my good intentions.”
“If we find out you were the one who destroyed our guild, we’ll hunt you down,” Krug said.
“If you organized the attack on the arboretum and my brethren, I’ll beat every last inch of life out of you,” Lurupine said in a display
of aggression that shocked the rest of her party.
“I don’t have time to sustain your unwarranted verbal barbs. I have much greater things to take care of. Here.” Padwin tossed a small pouch to Cleave. “A thank you for helping my friends in our time of need.”
Cleave opened it to find a small, gleaming emerald and a few gold coins.
“Until next time. I’ll leave you in the capable hands of my friend.” Padwin leaned in and kissed the party’s elven guide. Cleave shuddered and felt dirty with the thought he just had sex with someone who’d been intimate with his mortal enemy.
“Make sure to take care of my friends, Posie. I don’t want someone killing them before I get the chance to,” he looked at Krug, “again.”
Krug clenched his fists as Padwin strode away from them.
Posie walked up to the party and gave them a winning smile. “Shall we continue our trek to where your friends are?”
White-hot fires raged in Cleave’s stomach.
FIFTEEN
Posie led Cleave’s party through the woods more cautiously than before, carefully scanning the area every few hundred feet before continuing. Whenever there were sounds of battle, she would stop and scan the area, making sure it was clear before moving on.
Even though she was going slowly through the woods, Cleave was so tired he could barely keep up. He wasn’t the only one. Tarka was so exhausted she could barely stand. The elf carried the kobold on his back while the seemingly always hyper and ever awake Berryl helped him through the woods. Krug stumbled from tree to tree to keep his balance, and Lurupine trudged along as she drug her tree.
After three hours of travelling like this, Posie came to a cluster of trees and jerked her thumb toward them. “This is where they are,” she hissed.
Cleave looked around and noticed a couple of robed figures hidden among the trees close to where the party was. No doubt, Posie’s guild was keeping a close eye on the Fey Wilder. Posie peeked through a small opening in the trees and there was a flash. The elven woman hit the ground as a rainbow-colored ray arced inches over her head.
A tired smile found its way on his face. He knew that spell anywhere. Cleave felt rejuvenated and secured a snoozing Tarka on his back as he walked up to the tree line. It was going to be so nice to see his friends again. As he stepped out from the trees, another flash of magic hit the elf square in the face.
The Tainted Wood Page 12