'That was a fine shot,' the hunk said, placing a hand on Dawn's shoulder. I could have sworn I heard her sigh again. It made me want to stab him in the jap's eye. Over the time I'd spent with them approaching the Refuge, I'd built up a resistance to his charms. Dawn, on the other hand, had well and truly fallen under his spell. It didn't appear that he even wanted that to happen, merely that it was in his nature to do such things. I'd sniggered more than once as he'd been forced to gently brush Dawn off. If she wasn't careful, she was going to injure herself on his armour.
It was, indeed, a good shot, one that if I was honest with myself, I wouldn't have been able to succeed at first time.
'I'm bored, can't we kill them now?' said a voice with an audible sneer. Swords schinged and people swore as we spun to face the direction from which it had come. My heart felt as though it literally stopped as I stared in horror at the five Red Caps mounted on what I immediately tagged as 'Spiders from hell'. Covered in spiky bristles, the spiders stood stock still. Nothing I could see moved. They were the perfect apex predator, and their multi-faceted eyes were firmly fixed on their prey. Us.
'Bollocks,' I swore loudly now that we had well and truly lost the element of surprise. 'Fuck 'em up, Dawn.'
If you've ever seen the film Platoon, you'll know exactly what our band of commandos looked like as it was pursed through the shadows of the forest by hordes or Red Caps both on foot and mounted on spiders. We darted around behind and between trees as they fired their strange-looking clockwork rifles at us. Spells raced between our groups and shouts of pain, rage and fear filled the air.
The hunk skidded to a stop, forcing me to roll to the side as he spun and raised his bow in a way that Legolas could only dream of. He nocked, drew, and shot three arrows in the time it took me to hit the ground, more twangs signalling shots I didn't see as I continued the dive into a smooth roll. I was still struggling to my feet as his hand gently but firmly lifted me up and deposited me on my feet.
'Do you have a plan, Jane Doe?' his voice rumbled. It was like a recording of the noise elephants make to communicate through the earth. I could feel his voice in my organs.
'No,' I panted, wiping sweat from my brow before Casting a Jinx at a Red Cap's gun. The weapon exploded with one large explosion followed by a series of smaller ones as rounds cooked off. The Red Cap's nearly headless body tumbled from its saddle. 'Retreat wasn't something I factored in.'
'Ha! I like your spirit! You are a true warrior!' His hand rested briefly on my shoulder before he spun me around, slapped my arse, and sent me running off after the others who had formed a line twenty of or so yards beyond us. We were pepper potting. One group moving whilst the other provided covering fire. It was what the armed forces of practically every country like to call a tactical withdrawal. It sounded much better than a fight retreat. Retreat apparently had negative connotations. Even when you were fighting.
Sprinting through the line, I carried on for another ten steps then stopped and turned, 'Move!' I screamed, my throat aching as I did so. There had been far too much shouting in the last hour or so.
I started Casting as quickly as I could. There was a time to harbour energy, and a time to just say 'fuck it' and let rip. Now was the latter. A spider screamed, something I hadn't know they could do, before exploding in a shower of goop after it was caught in an arc of Lighting. I burned two others with a stream of the smallest, but hottest, Fireballs I could manage. As their burned their way through the air, they left a faint after trail that danced behind my eyes.
'It looks like you've got freekin' laysers coming from your fingers! Just need some angry sea bass!' yelled Dawn as she ran past me. Cool as that was to hear, I was more worried about not tripping up. We were in a particularly dark part of the forest, and I'd practically blinded myself with that last set of pyrotechnics.
'Move!' My thighs and knees screamed in protest as I forced myself back up and started running. We'd been doing this for far too long, and it was taking a toll on my body. Lebowski and her friends seemed barely affected, although some were limping, their armour tattered and battered in places. For some reason, the Red Caps had directed more of their ire at them rather than me and Dawn. I wasn't complaining as it had allowed us to take shots we wouldn't have been able to otherwise. But I did want to know what the story was. Arrows, bullets, and Spells arced over our heads as we sprinted towards the slight incline that the others were on the crest of, whilst bullets cracked past us from the enemy. If I didn't trust my party with my life, I'd have been screaming in fear at the closeness of some of those shots.
'Hold the line!' screamed Lebowski. We'd been running in the hope we'd find a place to make a stand. Sufficiently far enough away from the refuge, we were facing only the truly dedicated of our hunters, the others having fallen further back long before. Whilst we were still being pursued, the main body was distant enough for us to make a stand before resuming our flight.
'About bloody time,' I gasped, throwing myself onto my belly. I needed to give my legs a rest, and I could also claim that it gave the enemy a reduced target.
'Grenade!' yelled Dawn as the spoon tinged off. She grunted as she lobbed it through the air. I couldn't tell where it landed until there was a loud crack-boom. Shrieks filled the air as the lead spiders lost a whole slew of legs and bits of their body. Their riders were thrown wind milling into the air. Some were lucky enough to land on the loam whilst others crashed into unyielding tree trunks.
'Hit the riders!' This was in no way a fair fight. No quarter was going to be given, and certainly none asked. We needed to kill every single bastard we could now and, hopefully, make the main body give up.
I target a cap-less rider who was staggering around holding his head. A Fireball punched through his neck, and he toppled to the ground, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tried to scream in agony, his vocal chords cooked.
My next target had already gathered his wits and was charging towards us, a light lance of the Lancer type, not knightly type, gripped in both hands. Curses of the foul-mouthed type filled the air until I stitched Fireballs across his chest, the projectiles easily defeating the chain mail he wore.
Beside me, Dawn was carefully picking her targets, sending no more than one or two bullets into them. Out of all of us she was the one who truly had to conserve her ammunition.
'Cease fire!' The riders were all dead, the compatriots retreating. Injured spiders kicked their legs in the air, thrashing as they screamed in agony from their wounds. Unlike with normal animals, I saw absolutely no reason I should put an end to their misery. From the way the others just got to their feet and moved off, nor did they.
We'd gone less than a few yards when my foot sank into the ground with a less-than-welcome squelch. I lifted it and cursed as the ground tried to suck my book from my foot. Luckily it was a tactical boot, laced high, and not a normal shoe or I'd have lost it. The others were having similar difficulties, and I was about to suggest we turn back when horns farted from roughly half a mile away.
'Any idea where we are?' I asked as leapt towards a firm-looking tussock, metaphorically crossing my fingers that I wasn't going to face plant in front of everyone. It held, and I blew out my cheeks in relief.
'A bog,' said a previously silent member of Lebowski's cadre. At no point had any of them introduced themselves and, up until now, only Lebowski and Dawn's crush had spoken.
'No shit, Sherlock!' spat Dawn as she launched herself towards a dry patch of ground. 'Does it have a name as poetic as Moonlit Refuge? Something like Wanky and Danky Bog of Despair?’
I laughed, despite myself, at both her tone and the look of raised nose disgust on Lebowski's friend.
She sniffed in apparent disapproval before replying, 'I believe they call this the Bog of Everlasting Torment,' she even intoned the name as she spoke.
'Shit, really?' asked Dawn.
'No, it's just a fucking bog,' replied Lebowski’s friend.
I mimed clapping my hands as Dawn
placed a hand on her heart and cried out, 'A hit, a palpable hit!'
'Okay, so we've been driven into the bog of no name. Any dangers beyond that of drowning?'
'Grindleys, roughly thumb-sized creatures of darkness. Winged, but nowhere near as pretty as fairies,' Lebowski's friend held up a finger, then added another as she continued. 'Marsh Fairies. Also creatures of darkness. Foul beings we should kill upon sight. Also of a very small nature.'
She paused, and I was about to say something glib before she raised another finger. 'Gremlins. They're about knee height, mouths full of teeth, limited intelligence, highly cunning, and full of aggression. Then we have goblins, like Red Caps, but only slightly less psychotic and less well-organised. And finally, Bog Trolls. Which I'm sure you've encountered before.'
Somehow, she had enough fingers to count all those dangers on one hand, but when I squinted to take a better look, it seemed that she only had five. I put it down to a trick of the moonlit rather than dwell on it.
'Fabulous. Thank fuck I updated my will recently.'
'Ooooh, who gets the house?' asked Dawn with a cheeky smile.
'You do. Try and stay alive eh?' I replied and took another leap. 'Bugger!' I yelled as my feet went from under me, and I plunged face first towards a stagnant pool of water.
'They're holding back,' I said as I lowered myself onto what passed for dry ground in the bog. If I'd thought I could have got them dry again, I'd have removed my boots and emptied them of the water that constantly sloshed about in them. As it was, I prayed we'd get a chance to dry out before trench foot set in.
'They're driving us deeper in to the bog, whilst ensuring they don't come too deep themselves. They outnumber us so know we can't attack and drive our way through them. I fear that their plan is to create enough noise that the inhabitants of this noisome place kill us for them,' said Lebowski as she lowered herself down next to me. Even she was starting to show signs of the strain and effort we had been under, and her friends all grumbled quietly as they tended to wounds too minor to bother Healing, but troublesome enough to cause discomfort and pain. They were also open to the millions, nay billions, of mosquitoes that happily feasted upon us.
I scratched idly at one of the many bits on my hand. They'd merged into huge welts and both burned painfully and itched at the same time. Every time my nails scraped over them, I had the blissful sensation of the itch cessation for a moment before the nettle-sting like burn started. Lebowski and her people were similarly affected, their faces looking like puffer fish in their strange armour.
'Some bastard has bitten me right in the crack!' Dawn said, her tone an octave higher and whinier than usual. One hand was thrust firmly down the back of her trousers whilst her arm moved rhythmically up and down.
'You are the epitome of lady-like', I laughed before spluttering to a stop as I choked on a mosquito that had taken a fancy to my mouth.
'Ha! You're one to talk,' she snipped back at me. The pursuit and the misery of the bog was starting to take its toll on our spirits. This whole fucking Mark has been a mess from start to finish. I swear, when I find the bastard Merlin responsible…
I didn't have time to finish that thought as there was a sudden roaring and a group of raggedly-dressed goblins charged out of a high bed of marsh reeds. Dressed as if they were still living in the Victorian era, they sported morning coats and a mixture of top hats and bowlers. In their society, such dress was a sign that their culture was far superior to that of any other race.
There was no time for Dawn or our archer to shoot, we were well and truly in a stand-up and fight scenario. Rolling across the ground I neatly dodged a hand axe as it tumbled through the air. Its owner was quickly upon me, catching me as I rose to my knees. A jagged dagger, almost long enough to be called a sword, descended towards my face. I needed to finish the fight as quickly as possible so moved into the blow, thrusting my crossed hands up and forwards, catching the goblin's arm and forcing it back over his own shoulder as I surged to my feet. Hooking a foot around his, I shoved and sent him tumbling to the floor. Still holding onto his knife, I dropped my knee straight onto his face, the impact forcing the whole of his head through the boggy moss at the edge of our dry patch. As his heels drummed on the ground, his whole body thrashing to free itself from my weight, I wrestled the dagger from his weakening grip and plunged it into his chest. With one last surge of resistance, his body went limp as I twisted the evil blade, gritting my teeth as I felt it grate on his ribs.
Leaving the blade in his body, I drew my punch daggers, wrapping my fingers tightly around the grips. Casting had taken its toll, and I didn't want to waste any more energy unless I absolutely had to. Stepping to the side, I dodged a spear aimed at my abdomen, parrying the shaft with my lead hand whilst punching its owner in the side of the neck with my other dagger. The goblin made a gobbling noise, blood gushing from its mouth and nose in a thick torrent. Pulling the blade out, I kicked the corpse away from me so as to not have it underfoot.
Casting my eyes about for the next threat, I watched as Dawn set to work with her sticks. She was facing two goblin swordsmen, horrible looking creatures that snarled and yipped at her as they probed her defences. In contrast, she was quiet and only responded to a thrust when she had to. Otherwise she stood, conserving her energy, and returning none of the anger or hatred directed at her. It was psychological warfare at its best, and I could see that the goblins were getting more and more angry by the second.
That anger broke. The larger of the two gave a loud bark, then stamped forward into a thrust. Sticks raised high, Dawn brought one down hard onto her opponent's blade, sweeping it down and to the side, unbalancing its wielder, causing him to lean forward even further. Dawn hit him so hard with her other stick that I heard it even over the sound of the melee raging around us. It was as if a pumpkin had been dropped from the second floor of a building, and just as messy. She didn't stop there, however. As the body continued with its forward momentum, she brought her initial stick up and struck the second goblin across its face with a forehand strike that sent teeth and blood arcing through the air. Her second stick followed a split second later, a backhanded blow that smashed into the goblin's temple, dropping him like a sack of potatoes.
No more than a handful of seconds had passed between me catching sight of the fight and the death of the goblins, and yet it seemed an age had passed.
Fire exploded across my back, and I screamed in agony as I paid for my inattention. Turning with the force of the blow, I spun round to face another goblin, sword dripping with my blood. Had it chosen to thrust instead of slash I would have surely been dead. I bared my teeth at it, thanking all the gods that I was clearly facing an inexperienced fighter.
'I'm going to feast on your flesh,' it snarled in the deep baritone common to all goblins.
I didn't reply, surprised that it was even taking the time to gloat rather than pressing home the attack. I bent forward and hooked my arms out to the side whilst roaring, 'Come on!' At it. Jackman would have been proud.
It took the bait, swinging wildly at me as it stepped forward. I blunted his attack by kicking the moving leg with the sole of my rear foot. Eyes widening in surprise, or realisation, it fell forward onto my blades, their length easily punching through its back. Twisting them, I ripped them back out, the body falling onto its knees at my feet. Silence reigned as I scanned around for further enemies.
Goblins lay all around our resting place every one dead. Yet again, the horns of the Red Caps sounded as if their owners were aware that the Goblins had failed in their task.
'Shit, we lost someone,' whispered Dawn as she came to stand beside me. I looked in the direction of her gaze to see that Lebowski was kneeling by one of her people. No words were spoken, but the air rippled, the hairs on my arm standing on end as she rocked back and forth over his body. From what I could see, he'd died hard, most of the goblin dead lying around him. And then Mrs. Lebowski was next to me, literally in the blink of an eye.
'We should move. Elgraith,' she gestured at the fallen man, 'will be Taken shortly. You are not permitted to see such a wonder.' Her tone brooked no argument, nor did the purple tears falling down her cheeks. I nodded, quickly cleaned off my blades, and stepped off deeper into the bog.
Even though she hadn't wanted us to witness the passing of Elgraith, a light had blossomed briefly into life behind us as we trudged deeper into the bog. Our shadows had leapt in front of us, stretching before us as if we were in true sunlight again. The hue was golden. Not a yellowy colour, but truly golden. A tear slipped down my cheek, an unbearable sadness filling me for as long as the light lasted. As quick as it came it was gone, leaving just a memory of the pain it caused.
Lebowski and her people gave shrieking whistles, each trilling out their own pattern. 'He will be missed,' said Lebowski quietly. The others repeated her three times, then silence fell, and we returned to our own thoughts as we battled our way through the mud.
Unfortunately, bright lights tend to draw moths. In the case of the bog we were in, this meant that barely five minutes after Elgraith was Taken, a Bloat of Bog Trolls came roaring through the mist, which had begun rising from the ground in a truly ominous manner.
'Form a circle!' cried Lebowski. Me, Dawn, and she raced to stand side-by-side, whilst the others, only four left now, formed the rest.
In the few seconds we had before they crashed into us, I was able to get a good look at the Trolls despite the strange moonlight. Covered in bark-like skin, with lumps of moss and lichen dotted all over them, they resembled rotten tree-men more than other branches of their own race. Their eyes had a red glow that spread to the bones of their faces.
'Ugly cunts. Bring it,' said Dawn in a deadpan voice as she tucked her KRIS into her shoulder and opened fire. I activated my Icons, the Shield sparking to life and flames running down my arms onto the blades of my punch daggers. If Trolls had one thing in common beyond psychopathic behaviour, it was their fear of fire and the wounds it dealt them.
Hell Hound Page 24