by Cero Tsaonni
The sounds of snapping twigs and bristling trees crackled in the wind. Through the dense thick fog of the forest they strove-maddening red eyes, searing fangs yearning for a taste of sweet blood. Their ears, set just above and behind their grisly deformed cheekbones, perked to the cries of their would-be prey. Their savage hunger, insurmountable by measure of man, fueled a fierce charge covered under shrouds of darkness overshadowing the light of the luminous moon, making the glade ahead all but indistinguishable.
No matter to these primeval monstrosities of evolutionary depredation. For their enhanced senses relied primarily on sounds and scents-sounds and scents further magnified by that perverse hunger transcending the very notion of evil itself.
Their build lay somewhere between that of saber-cat and grisly bear. Their hind legs powerful stumps supporting their massively built upper torsos. Rather than rely on speed, they were conditioned to camouflage themselves within that smokescreens of mist, where the hellhounds had roamed undetected since the origins of species'. Their method was to creep under its shrouded veil, then overwhelm their prey with a paralyzing blitz of power.
Their faces were mangled twists of hyena and lion: spitting muzzles baring primeval razor sharp fangs-ferocious, salivating for flesh and blood. And their fur: it was of a charcoal coat, providing for additional camouflage further encouraging their nocturnal nature.
As the pack crashed through the thick of the forest, their prey came into site. A girl-not more than 10-years-old-wearing a simple beige tunic under a shawl lined in her own coat of fur. She shrieked and fled in horror, but all in vain. Even in her youth she must have known; escape was out of the question. Her tiny legs could not possibly compete with those of the tempestuous fiends. Their ferocious appetites would soon overcome her natural survival instincts.
The rugged terrain made the likelihood of her escape none the more plausible. She was in an unknown land not meant for human inhabitation. This was their territory-a place only the beasts were meant to traverse.
~~~~
To the south of Riverstein Forest, the ruins of the Elm City arise. Condemned by God from the beginning of its settlement, the civilization somehow managed to endure for centuries until "The Great Catastrophe" struck Gaia. The landmass that once formed a single supercontinent - that which split from one into seven so many hundreds of millions of years ago - further split to equal eleven.
Global war erupted from all corners of the globe. Clans battled in territorial disputes to reestablish their former lines; and the land was scorched and ravaged. It would be the birth of a second Dark Age, and hither came legions of evil personified.
The Earth would come to be collectively known as?
THE SCOURGED LAND OF GAIA
By
Cero Tsaonii
At the center of the Elm City's ruins lies a burnt green measuring a total number of 16-acres, the upper center of which bears the remains of an ancient church. It is said that the green had originally been molded by self-righteous puritans to form a perfect square around, the green having been calculated to house a total estimate of one hundred thousand true believers in the coming rapture (the rapture being second coming of Christ, when only the righteous were to be purged from Earth, as the wicked were condemned to suffer). But the rapture never occurred; for in the time of Christ's second coming there had been no living remaining believers'.
This document pertains to a previously unwritten era, beginning with a small band of refugees who had made their way to the scorched green of the Elm City. They meant to escape King's War, which had consumed their homeland whereupon the South Kingdom once flourished, after an onslaught of continuous invasions. What remained of their civilization was now reduced to their occupancy here, where they encamped around this center church.
So begins their tragic tale.
Sing, heavenly muse, sing to me of their tragic tale, so that I may make known their plight, and hope to some day be free of Cantos's torment. Begin with the chief of the refugees-his name lost in history-standing upon the wooden dais within the weathered hall of the central church. Holding his golden scepter he prepares to recite a speech concerning the disappearance of Cara and Jason's daughter, Zoe, who vanished without a trace the night before. Next, standing firm just behind, to his right: Zachary--warrior bodyguard--hailing from the Tribal Nyphlice of the United Front. And seated at the front of this warped congregation: Jason and Cara--two among fifty refugees--those few who had yet to succumb to black death.
Thus, gathered, the chieftain began:
"This morning, I've come to accept that a terrible tragedy has befallen our camp. Cara, Jason?your beloved daughter, Zoe-child of our hopes and future-for whom my heart now aches, has quite possibly succumbed to a grim fate in this accursed terrain. This vile country that greets us with nothing but further trials and tribulation as we resist the hateful talons of death. A land in which we starve as our own suffers under the hand of wretched Solomon Baal and his chain mailed Army of Curs.
"Even Zachary-proudest warrior amongst the Nyphlice-whom forfeited his honor to travel amongst us here-stands beside me now in disgrace, failing to protect the life of your daughter so adored. And I, our primary chieftain, believe me I tear out my heart grieving in the face of your loss. For far too long I've heard whispers of the demonic shade who dwells below the layered depths of these ruins-rumors I had refused to believe until this very morning. But here and now I stand at present to inform you all that my guards have indeed borne witness to the fact. Oh yes my people, you bear the burden of many a trauma and fear. And I? I fear as well. Like you, I fear for Carla and Jason's ill-fated daughter whom was surely swept away in the midst of the night by this waking evil.
"This land, it is surely uninhabitable. To remain here would only guarantee an agonizing death to us all. We just cannot endure it any longer, but nevertheless, we will endure. For, the unbending will of our tribe, though withered, is unbreakable, is it not? We will because we must if we are to procure any hope of our survival-if we are to traverse through the Riverstein Forest that surrounds us, in search of a sustainable land-though Riverstein Forest is surely the source of the vile necromancy that torments us."
He paused for a brief moment, choking back bitter tears. But, conscious of Cara, whom in tears herself was being comforted in the warmth of her husband's arms, he concluded,
"A God-damned agent of evil impedes our progress, apparently going so far as to steal Cara's child away in the midst of the night. And from right under our noses at that! And though it appears all hope of her safe return is already lost, all hope is not lost. A glimmer remains! Through that shining light, here I vow, indeed-here and now-to organize a search party-though I cannot take part personally due to my old age. And for a full week we will carry out a combing through the Riverstein, in hopes of securing any sign of Zoe before we will ever allow ourselves to accept that she is gone for good. And for another full week our camp will endure despite our grievances in the Elm City, as we pray daily within this sacred church in hopes of sealing the child's safe return. This-I vow!" His eyes flamed, his nostrils flared, and his body trebled as he threw the scepter down onto the dais while a single teardrop trickled down his beard.
Stepping forth, Zachary: flowing white hair, grey eyes-a statuesque, androgynous appeal. He stood among the tribe as a god among men; around his neck was a 24-karat gold crucifix covered in glistening diamonds. Picking up the scepter, he brushed it off, and sighed.
"If I may, my grand chief, explore the possibility of another explanation concerning the child's disappearance? It is with deep regret that I make this report, I assure you. But I must advise-whatever search party we organize
is sure to be worthless, and will only serve to further place more lives at risk. For, besides whispers of this demonic shade, there is yet another legend sung of long ago. I'm sure you've heard of it yourself. I, personally, refused to believe it until now. It recounts tales of the horribly savage monstrosities' that lurk the Riverstein's north woods. It is said they guard the very gates of the elder world itself. They-a dreaded combination of wolf and man-travel in packs of threes. When threatened they spitfire, possessed with the savage ferocity of a saber-cat. No man can overcome them. Not I, nor any other amongst the greatest warriors born of Gaia. And whilst surely it pains you as well as I to admit, I am also positive that Zoe ran off on her own free will, oblivious of this terror, and just as surely she has already fallen prey to the insatiable hunger of those wretched fiends. And we shall as well if we dare probe the excrescent depths of Riverstein Forest."
He took in a deep breath.
"It is, in fact, a hopeless plight. You are, of course, aware yourself that the child had already been weak, enduring much suffering during our flight from