CHAPTER 1.10 - THE END OF THE SEARCH
Hugo looks muzzily around Rian’s thick thigh, into which he had collided when the man had stopped without warning. It was like walking into a tree trunk. Past Rian, he can see they are on the edge of a large clearing dominated by the largest single tree he has ever seen. So huge that the canopy seems unbroken, but elevated by the mighty oak’s foliage. As his eyes refocus, he sees the strangest scene and is panicked by the conflicting urges to protect, flee or fight for his life.
Close to, about 20 feet ahead of Rian, a pair of wolves have been alerted by the group’s arrival. Their yellow eyes reflect the tiny fragment of light filtering through the dense tree cover. Another, more complex, sense of unease bites down as his senses alert him to a woman leaning against the trunk of the giant tree. She seems distressed, close to collapse; and yet something about her silhouette feels indefinably wrong to Hugo. Finally, a trickle of fright rolls down his spine as he discerns a darker shadow beyond the woman. Make that terror, as the silhouette resolves into the shape a massive canine, heavier built than a wolf. This triggers another sense of wrongness, as even in this low light, the giant thing seems too dark. As though it is leeching illumination from its surroundings.
Then he’s pulled off his feet as Rian tries to race forwards. The big man has shifted his pike into his left hand, pulled a handaxe from his belt and raised this to throw towards the ink-dog. The attempt is wasted as Rian’s momentum is arrested by the chain of people roped to his waist. Hugo can hear impacts and sounds of consternation from behind him as the others collide and lose footing. The big man has dragged them several paces forward, a feat that would be impressive if it didn’t so comprehensively disable the already exhausted group.
Cursing, Hugo grabs his dagger, sawing through the rope, letting Rian free. Behind him, he hears the firecracker detonation of one of Anuk’s terrible projectiles over an unmanly squeak of fright from Wiln. He hopes she’s attacked the rope rather than murdering the bandit but is much more concerned with finding the vanished shadow beast. The woman’s now staring in their direction, the nightmare dog nowhere to be seen. Worse still, he registers that the wolves are growling, circling apart from one another in preparation for attack. Rian is silent, no concern for his axe buried into the floor of the clearing ahead. His pike is back in both hands in preparation for the wolves’ inevitable pounce. Hugo rolls over, notes the living Wiln gulping with terror, busies himself with cutting the rope still binding the bandit to him. Anuk has also turned, radiating fury, and detonated the rope between herself and Thae. His friend’s on one knee but already pulling up to standing with the aid of the warhammer. For an instant, Hugo believes they might survive this after all.
As if in response to the thought, worse turns to worst as the undergrowth to either side of them erupts. Hugo rolls in panic as, with a high-pitched shriek, a huge boar charges through the space in which he had stood. His right arm burns, freezes as one of the wicked tusks rakes him, but the shock is dulled by his realisation that the impact bounced him into the backs of Anuk’s knees, tripping her. Thae is turning in shock, looking past the falling, furious woman. Hugo can’t help but follow the cleric’s gaze, sees that Rian has been flung aside by another beast charging out of the forest, the unmistakeable form of a huge brown bear. The woodsman managed to retain his pike but is struggling to bring it to bear – literally – from his supine position as the animal unleashes a furious roar. It’s standing on its hind legs, powerful forelegs spread, ready to crash down upon or hug Rian.
Hugo still prioritises gasping an apology to Anuk as he tries to extricate himself from her legs and Wiln’s sobbing, foetal mass. Her only response saves Rian’s life, as a purple bead illuminates a strobing path into the thick fur of the bear’s flank. Its roar modulates to include pain in its rage, the distraction providing Rian enough time to roll out from under the animal’s claws. Any relief Hugo could feel is snuffed as a pair of furry forms arc over his head. He hears Thae grunting under the attack of both wolves. “Fuck”, he thinks. “We’re in trouble.”
In a moment of frigid, fatalistic calm, Hugo looks back towards the massive tree. The woman has pulled herself erect from her slumped position and is gazing in their direction. He realises that she is heavily, seemingly impossibly pregnant. But still, her silhouette seems…wrong. Something in the cut of her clothes, the texture of the mass of hair falling past her shoulders, seems…uncanny, somehow. He wrestles his focus back to the chaos around him. Thae’s still alive, at least, but is struggling to fend off the pair of wolves now circling, snapping at his friend’s legs and chest. Rian’s back on his feet, but the bear continues to harry him despite the pair of scorched wounds now smouldering on its flank.
Hugo glances to the dagger in his hand, realises again how futile the weapon would be, tucks it away and tries to untangle his lute from its strap. Then he screams something wordless at Anuk, granting her just enough warning to throw herself out of the way of the returning boar’s charge. The thing is terrifying, and he finds himself impressed that Rian had managed to kill one of similar size when they were lost in a blip. Adds to his incredulity that the man was already asleep on his feet.
He knows he’s too panicked, that they are too put upon, to form a lucid thought of what tricks, what musical magic might assist them. He would try the song of sleep, but his fingers feel like lead, his brain fogged by fear. Besides, he’s noted in the past that the effect sends weaker friends to sleep without touching larger, healthier enemies. He’d be more likely, her reckons, to render his exhausted companions unconscious and even more prey to the beasts attacking them. Think!
The bear bats Rian’s weapon away, impacts the man with the end of its swipe. Thae lands a glancing blow on one of the wolves, tries unsuccessfully to spin away from its partner. That wolf is trying to lock jaws to the half-elf’s – thankfully chainmailed – thigh. His friend is struggling, harried. Anuk’s on one knee, her fury seeming to flood her, make her waver over which of the imminent threats to target. Indecision born from her wish to kill them all, he guesses. “We’re dead, we’re dead, and I’m pointless” he thinks.
As he watches, Rian is back menacing the berserk bear, each of them roaring at the other. Anuk makes her decision, fires a bead at the boar as it skids and turns itself for another charge. Hugo’s heart drops as the purple bead blasts some earth at the thing’s feet, then breaks as he sees Thae dragged to the ground by one wolf, the other snarling and about to pounce at the warrior’s throat. He curses himself again as the crossbow shifts on his back, immediately gets into another tangle as he tries to stow his lute and draw bow and bolt.
The futility washes over him. They’re fighting for their lives and have nothing to show for it bar one limping wolf and a bear which seems undeterred by the horrid wounds dotting its hide. And then…
…then…
…the treacle of adrenaline turning seconds into slow ages freezes him entirely. Or maybe, he realises, the freezing is from the hairs on the back of his neck as he struggles to mount a quarrel and pull back the taut crossbow string. He manages to turn only slightly, catches a pitch-black nightmare shape which was definitely not behind him a moment before. Of course, it’s currently looming into his peripheral vision.
Hugo gasps as he feels wicked fangs scrape over his forehead, shorter teeth pressing the base of his neck. Smells his world become the rank breath of a predator and knows that the shadow dog has his head entirely in its mouth. He screams in terror, hearing the sound muffle in the dank cavern of its jaws. Braces himself knowing how easily the thing can bite down. If it closes its mouth, it’ll shut his forever.
He hears his name in Thae’s strangled shout, the responding venomous curse from Anuk, and Rian’s roar cuts off. Thinks grimly “I could at least have had better eulogies” as he goes limp in the monstrous hound’s maw.
He knows that his time is over when he feels the beast’s head jerk. He’s shocked when he’s returned to the shadowy gloom of the clearing, head slicked with the massive inkblot’s slobber. Lying on his back, he hears an extremely canine yelp as the shadow hound’s huge head snaps towards the tree. No, towards the woman. Then there’s an instant of frozen silence, all combat stopped dead, as he feels the enormous pressure of another attack, another blip, growing in the base of his skull.
The…woorrrllllddddd beginnnnnns tttto stttuttterrrr, then the pall is torn and replaced by a high-pitched scream from the centre of the clearing. The unnatural slab of darkness-given-dog-shape is, without moving, suddenly gone from his sight as the more natural animals whimper and turn tail into the deeper woods. He pushes himself up on his elbows to see his comrades, baffled but alive, focused into the clearing. He stands shakily, stares towards the woman at the oak tree.
Several discrete layers of realisation crowd into his skull. The woman’s surrounded by a sickly, off-green glow. She’s screaming in pain and has slumped down onto her knees. The dissonance in his perceptions of her crystallise in this new glow, and he sees that that isn’t hair, those aren’t clothes. Instead, she has thin vines and leaves covering her head and portions of her body. Her skin, her naked, swollen breasts, are patterned with a grain similar to that of cut wood. It would be beautiful if not for his frozen horror. SHE would be beautiful, maybe more so than even Anuk. The word ‘dryad’ skitters into his mind, a jumble of facts or myths about the woodland creatures vying for his already overwhelmed attention. The huge black hound has reappeared impossibly nearby her, postured like a frightened lapdog. And finally, the growing puddle of viscous liquid pooling under her groin shoulders into his focus.
Hugo sees Anuk frozen in place, staring, feels glad he’s not the only one. Rian and Thae, however, move as one, the former discarding his pike, the latter still holding the hammer, but seemingly out of habit rather than intention to use the weapon. Hugo stammers out “Those…those blips – they were contractions!” as some of the threads of his thoughts bind together. He’s rewarded with the same, serious nod from each warrior as they approach the woman. The nightmare shadow hound turns on them, but its growl is uncertain. He watches Thae notice and discard the warhammer, hands spreading to show their emptiness. The pair carry on towards the hyperventilating…forest spirit…undeterred, seemingly careless of any attack from the monster. Sees that Rian is swinging the pack off his shoulders, flinging it back towards him and Anuk, pointing at it.
“There’s a pool here. Build us a fire…” The big man hesitates as the ailing dryad looks up, a snarl beginning to twist her pained expression. He rethinks. “…a firepit.” Rian’s focused on the woman’s face as Hugo and Anuk exchange a glance, both guiltily beginning to move. The wooden woman seems mollified or at least distracted by another contraction. Rian, ever terse, spits out “Pot in my pack; boil some water.” Hugo can see that Anuk’s undecided on whether to comply or to continue blasting those hellish beads, so he hurries to follow the woodsman’s instructions. Sees Anuk, still furious – ever furious, it seems – grudgingly moving towards him and the bag.
