by AC Cobble
Corinne relaxed the tension on her bowstring and clapped him on the back. “Apparently you do know a thing or two.”
Ben rubbed his chest where the demon’s shoulder hammered him and murmured, “Like I said, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen one of these things.”
“You just got demon blood all over your tunic,” remarked Rhys.
Ben looked down, saw the bloody purple smear his hand left, and groaned. “How do I clean that off?” he wondered.
Grunt, sheathed his heavy sword, and responded, “That my friend, is a question for someone else.”
The rest of the party started moving again. Amelie paused to wait for Ben. “I’ve heard vinegar is good for bloodstains,” she offered.
Ben looked at her. “Do you have any vinegar?” he asked.
She shrugged.
“Let’s go.” He sighed. They followed the others deeper into the forest.
Several more individual demons attacked them during the next week, but all were quickly dispatched. It turned out Corinne had not exaggerated her skill with a bow. When given the opportunity, she peppered the creatures with arrows before they got close to any of the companions. When they did, the slow and weakened creatures were easily cut down by Rhys or Grunt.
Grunt seemed to relish hacking deeply into the beasts with his massive bastard sword. The huge blade cleaved big chunks out of them. On the third demon, Grunt nearly chopped the entire thing in two.
Ben and Rhys watched on as the hunter knelt to cut loose the horns.
“The stupid man is going to get himself killed,” complained Rhys.
“What do you mean?” asked Ben curiously. From what he saw, the hunter knew what he was doing. It wasn’t his first time in the Wilds, either.
“He’s cutting too deep,” explained Rhys. “These things are almost solid bone and muscle. While we’re making it look easy so far, they don’t go down easy. If he cuts one of them and doesn’t kill it, he’s going to have his blade stuck and a very angry demon at close proximity.”
“Should we say something?”
Rhys shook his head no. “When a man carries a big sword like that, well, he’s going to want to swing it in a certain way. No use talking to him. You’d probably just piss him off.”
“Why does it matter what size sword he has?” asked Ben. “He’s a professional hunter. I’m sure he’s always looking to improve. You give me feedback on swordsmanship all of the time.”
“You don’t think it matters what size sword he has?” asked Rhys with a raised eyebrow.
Ben frowned.
“The man’s traveling with a pretty girl half his age, he’s named after a sound he makes, and he carries a sword nearly as tall as you…” Rhys shrugged. “Talk to him if you like, but I’m not going to bring that kind of thing up with a guy.”
“Are we,” Ben hesitated, “still talking about his sword?”
Before dawn the next morning, while Ben was standing watch, snow began to fall. Light flakes barely visible in the low firelight drifted down around his face. He kept walking through the swirling crystals. By first light, a dusting of white covered the surrounding forest and his sleeping companions. A narrow circle of clear ground showed where Ben was walking around the campsite to stay awake and keep warm.
Grunt sat up and brushed the snow out of his hair. “I need some kaf,” he mumbled sleepily.
Rhys rose and stretched. He worked through a quick sequence of Ohms poses while Corrine stared at him strangely. Rhys smiled back at her. “It warms you up,” he said.
“Really?” yawned Amelie from across the fire.
“Try it,” suggested Rhys, and she did.
Corinne and Grunt both watched on, bemused. Ben silently noted that maybe he should be using the Ohms as well. The chill was stiffening his body and the Ohms would be a good way to loosen up.
Lady Towaal rose and shook out her bedroll, sending a cascade of half-melted snowflakes onto the ground. “Can you make two of those pots of kaf today?” she asked Grunt.
The man grunted and stuck two more branches into the fire. He blew gently at the embers. Ben watched as the flames flared up. Grunt settled his pot of water near the heat and then stacked a pile of wood they’d gathered last night just outside of the fire pit.
Ben moved to stand near him and held out his hands to the growing heat. “What is that for?” he asked, gesturing to the woodpile.
“I’m drying 'em out,” replied Grunt. He dug a finger into the slushy snow next to him. “From now on, we’ll have trouble finding dry wood. Best to set it by the fire the night before to cook out the moisture then pack it with you. It makes for a heavy load, but it’s better than sleeping in the snow with no fire.”
“We should also start setting up the tarps,” said Rhys, who was hovering near the kaf pot. “Any more than this dusting and we’ll wake up soaking wet and freezing.”
The hunter nodded and dug through his pack to pull out a sack of oats. “Oatmeal?” he asked.
Rhys shrugged. “Why not.”
Ben was eager to try out the snow shoes he had been carrying for the last week but he felt silly using them on the almost non-existent dusting of snow. After a bell, the sun had melted it all away anyway.
They found a trickle of water babbling through a wide and dry creek bed. They started following it north. It wound through the rocky hills and ridges they had been climbing. Even though it wasn’t straight, it made for quicker travel. Ben guessed the creek bed would fill up in the spring when the snowmelt began to run off. In autumn, it was dry except for a little stream half a pace wide.
“How are we doing on direction?” asked Corinne as they looped in a wide arc around a prominent rock-studded hill.
“Good,” answered Towaal. She looked like she would leave it at that but then continued, “At this rate of speed, we should have two more weeks of hiking to get there. Whether we can maintain our pace, we shall see.”
Three weeks walk from the nearest civilization, thought Ben. That was a long way from home.
“And when we get there,” asked the bow woman, “how long will it take to destroy this Rift?”
“That should be rather quick if we can get close enough,” replied Towaal. She looked to Amelie. “We should be able to place the device and activate it in a few minutes.”
“How do you, ah, activate it?” asked Corinne. “I’m not very familiar with magical devices. Have you used one of these before?”
“I do have some familiarity with magical devices,” answered Towaal dryly.
Corinne glanced at her and frowned suspiciously.
Amelie caught up to the other women and asked Towaal, “Once the disc is activated, how far away do we need to be?”
Corinne’s frown deepened.
Towaal’s lips pursed. Then she replied, “Three or four hundred paces. Anything closer will carry a significant risk.”
“Hold on,” said Corinne. “What exactly does this thing do? I thought it would just shatter the stone. I’ve heard they use those in the mines.”
“It will be a little bit more than that,” responded Towaal.
“More?” asked Corinne.
“A bigger boom,” explained Rhys.
They kept trudging up the creek bed. Corinne wore a pensive look. Over the last week, she had come to terms with the idea that the skills in the group might run deeper than they appeared on the surface. Ben suspected she finally accepted there was more to it than she understood.
Ahead in the creek bed, Ben noticed something sticking out of the dirt. He walked ahead to investigate.
Corinne joined him and they both peered down at a short stick with feather fletching sticking up at an angle. The feathers still looked fresh. Ben guessed it had been left outside for less than a day.
The rest of the party stopped with them. They all thought the same thing. Someone had recently fired this arrow.
Rhys pointed behind them at the rock-studded hill the creek looped around. “There.”
“We don’t have time to investigate every odd thing we come across,” stated Towaal.
Rhys shook his head and argued, “We haven’t come across much. This is recent. It’s worth seeing if there is anything we can learn.”
Towaal sighed. “Go ahead. Quickly. I will wait down here.”
Rhys shook his head again. “I don’t think we should split up.”
Towaal grumbled and slung her pack down. “Well, I’m not climbing that thing with this pack on.”
They all followed her lead and laid down their supplies. They headed toward the hill with only their weapons and a few water skins.
When they drew closer, Ben realized this was not just a simple hill. The rocks sticking out had a square shape, and the entire formation was a suspiciously perfect cylinder.
“Must be an old keep,” remarked Grunt. “You find things like this from time to time in the Wilds. Ancient fortifications and signs of past civilization. Occasionally, you can even find old artifacts that are worth some coin.”
“How old?” asked Amelie, trailing her hand across a waist-high block at the base of the structure. The stone was worn smooth around the edges and dirt and sediment had formed around it to incorporate it back into the landscape.
“This could be two or three thousand years old?” guessed Rhys. “There’s no telling.”
“So, possibly before the Rift was created,” murmured Towaal. She was suddenly interested. She led the way, climbing up the steep, nearly vertical side.
From a distance, the climb looked intimidating, but once they started on it, Ben found plentiful handholds. The tumbled blocks provided high but easy steps to ascend to the top.
When they reached the top, they discovered where the arrow came from. Three men were lying sprawled in a grisly heap. Pale, they had been drained. The demons that killed them had consumed all of the life-blood in their bodies.
Crimson and purple splatters painted a space the width of a medium-sized house in Farview. A fierce battle had taken place. The men’s weapons were stained from use, but there weren’t any demon corpses to show their work.
A broken bow lay in the hand of one of the corpses. He must have tried to hit a demon with it, thought Ben. The man’s sword was still in his scabbard, untouched.
Grunt knelt by the bodies and rolled them all to be facing up.
“Nong,” he said to Corinne, pointing to a short man whose chest had been torn open.
Corinne gasped and moved over to see. Confirming Grunt’s assessment, she turned to the group. “Nong was one of the most experienced hunters in Northport. The man used his scimitar on demons like a butcher on a pig. He’s fought and killed scores of demons. There was rumor he could be a blademaster if he chose to make a challenge.
Rhys knelt down and scooted the man’s scimitar away from the body. It was free of the blademaster’s glyph, but the wide blade was smeared in purple demon blood. Rhys looked around. “Well, it doesn’t look like he killed one this time.”
Grunt stood and started scouting the edge of the old keep. “Nong wouldn’t have been brought down by a single demon. A swarm did this.”
They quickly examined the rest of the space. There wasn’t anything to see. Towaal acted like she wanted to explore the structure in more detail but Rhys confronted her. “We don’t have time to investigate everything, remember?”
She set her hands on her hips, preparing to argue. Rhys held up a hand and overruled her. “If a swarm did this, then we really can’t afford to stay here. If they are nearby, they’ll sense us soon and we’ll have no choice but to fight.”
Towaal looked ready to continue the argument then deflated. She motioned for them to go. Rhys began the descent down the tower, followed by Corinne and Amelie. Ben stood at the top, waiting his turn. He looked out over the landscape around them. It was a higher view than they’d seen of the immediate area so far. He could see that for days they would be moving through the same terrain. Thick woods flowed like a river around rocky ridges and outcroppings. In the distance, he could see where the mountains started to rise.
He thought he could pick out two high, knife sharp spines of rock reaching out like grasping hands. Those hands were encircling the valley they believed contained the Rift. From a distance, it looked peaceful and calm. There were no telltale black masses of demons covering the hills, or any other sign of the danger he knew they would face.
Towaal started climbing down in front of him. He looked to see where the others were placing their hands and feet. He wasn’t a natural climber and didn’t enjoy heights, so seeing Rhys two thirds of the way down and progressing quickly made him feel a bit better…until behind him he heard Grunt utter a sharp curse. “Bloody hell,” grumbled the man.
“What?” asked Ben, spinning around.
Grunt was staring out on the other side of the tower.
“Where are the others?” demanded the hunter.
“Still climbing,” replied Ben, moving to join Grunt and looking in the same direction as the man. He held up one hand to shade his eyes then growled his own curse.
In the distance, maybe half a league away, there was a black mass moving down one of the bare rocky ridges. While Ben watched, it disappeared into the forest below.
“How many?” asked Ben.
Grunt grunted. “Enough. Call the others back up. We’re better off with the elevation.”
The party climbed back up to the top of the ancient tower and spread out, looking down into the forest and hills below.
“I don’t see anything,” complained Amelie to Ben.
“I saw it, just for a heartbeat, but they’re out there,” he responded.
Corinne had her bow in hand and Grunt was carrying his crossbow. None of the rest of them had ranged weapons.
Rhys briefly gave Ben and Amelie a tutorial about utilizing the upper ground to their advantage.
“Let me summarize,” said Ben after Rhys walked them through some tactics. “When their heads come up, chop them off?”
Rhys grinned and nodded. “You’ve got it.”
Amelie had both of her blades out and was swishing them restlessly back and forth.
“Those won’t be much use against a large demon,” mentioned Corinne.
Amelie looked to her questioningly.
“Stick to the skinny ones,” advised the huntress. “A demon is a big pile of meat. It will be difficult to get in a killing blow with a light weapon like yours. And when fighting a demon, if you get close enough to hit them, you want it to be a kill.”
Amelie breathed deep and replied, “Thanks for the advice.”
Corinne nodded briefly. “When we get back to civilization,” she said, tapping one of the hand axes that hung from her belt, “we should get you some of these. Less reach, but more penetration. Swing it hard enough and you can crack even the thickest demon skull.”
Ben stalked the edge of his side of the tower. As the minutes passed, nothing happened. None of the companions questioned what he and Grunt saw, but he could feel them getting impatient.
Grunt, muttering under his breath, kept asking himself where they were.
After a bell, Amelie suggested, “Maybe they didn’t see us.”
“This close,” replied the hunter, “they should have sensed us.”
“Let’s wait a bit longer,” interjected Towaal. “They either sensed us or they didn’t. If they did, we shouldn’t have long to wait. If they didn’t, and they’ve moved on, then it’s worth waiting another bell to be safe.”
Pacified, they all settled down. Ben sat on a flat block that could have been part of a wall circling the top of the tower long ago. His longsword was drawn and resting across his knees. Idly, he ran his fingers along the blade and looked down at the trees below. It was a windless day. Nothing moved.
Silently, they all looked out like spokes on a wheel.
After another bell, they started getting restless aga
in.
“We could be up here all day waiting on nothing,” complained Corinne.
“I know what I saw,” barked Grunt in response.
Corinne stalked back to the edge of the tower and looked down. “Whatever you saw, it doesn’t seem interested in climbing up here after us.”
“We spent too much time up here,” declared Towaal. “We shouldn’t have taken the diversion and we’ve lost half a day of travel.”
Rhys raised an eyebrow at her.
“I know,” she grumbled. “It’s my fault too.”
Sulking, Grunt slung his crossbow back over his shoulder and stated, “Fine. We’ve waited long enough. I know what I saw, and it was a demon swarm, but you’re right—they’ve had plenty of time to get here. If they aren’t here, they must have not sensed us. Let’s go.”
The stocky hunter started down the tower and they followed behind him. On the ground, they quickly moved back into the creek bed and recovered their packs. Ben felt a slight breeze and a chill wind picked up.
Within half a bell, swirling flakes of snow danced around them as they marched onward.
That evening, Ben and Rhys strung up several tarps between three bare tree trunks to create an open shelter. They angled one of the tarps to prevent most of the wind and snow from blowing in on them. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than nothing.
After a simple dinner, Rhys produced one of his silver flasks and passed it around the group. Everyone took a sip, even Lady Towaal. They all knew that a large demon swarm could be too much for them to defend against. Seeing one in the distance was an unpleasant reminder that while the Wilds seemed peaceful on the surface, the deadly risk was real.
Towaal was the first to roll up tight in her bedroll. Everyone else followed quickly behind.
Amelie had the first watch. Ben met her gaze before he tried to get some rest. He was confident she was alert and would spot anything coming near them, but he still could not sleep for bells. By the time he finally did lose consciousness, it seemed like he was immediately shaken awake by Towaal.
“Your watch,” she whispered.