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Nametag:rook
THE MIRROR OF THE GODS
"My pussy feels like the only churn in a one hundred man
butter churning contest."
The man recoiled slightly and blinked at the red headed
woman, "ah, yes. Well other than that how do you feel? You
understand that the men who captured you and brought you here
were mercenaries and NOT any of my own men?" The man nodded
and somewhat reluctantly his militia guards undid the
bindings on the red headed woman and quickly stepped back as
she slowly shifted from a prone to a sitting position.
The man bent forward and offered the woman a hand to help her
to her feet. She looked at the hand then smirked and took it
and stood up before him.
She towered over him and the half dozen guards in the small
room. She stood over six feet and they all stood around five
foot in height.
The man who helped her to her feet was dressed in simple but
clean robes and was well groomed in the northern style of
full beard but close cropped hair. He wore a signet ring on a
chain about his neck but no other jewelry and was old enough
to be her fathers older brother if she had a father or he had
an older brother which she did not.
The man motioned and one of the militia turned snatching a
large bundle off a table behind him and stepping carefully
forward and placing it on the seat of a chair which another
militia guardsman produced out of the corner of the shadowy
room setting it next to the woman before both men moved away.
The red headed woman looked down at the bundle. It was her
weapons and clothes. The naked woman began to dress while the
man in the robes poured two flagons of wine and held them
waiting for her to finish putting on her clothes.
She stood over six foot in her bare feet and added a couple
more inches when she slipped on her deer hide black dyed
supple thigh high tight boots which she laced into place.
Her limbs were long and well formed and moved with an
effortless grace bespeaking power and speed. Her skin was
flawless and pale as full moon winter snow.
She tied the thong of a scale mail bottom around her narrow
waist. The two upside down triangle pieces of metal scales
scarcely covered her otherwise exposed patch of crimson corn
silk pubic hair or much of her proud full round jutting
backside.
A scale mail bikini top was tied over her enormous full round
breasts. The large breasts looked particularly excessive in
size and ponderous upon her otherwise thin body. The
triangles of scale mail did little to conceal her large palm
sized puffy areolas or hide her thumb thick ever hard
nipples.
Upon her shoulders she strapped two palladium etched shoulder
guards; obviously once part of an elaborate suit of
ceremonial armor.
Upon her hands she pulled on a pair of soft cuff turned down
thin gauntlet gloves of black dyed buckskin. The kind often
attributed with pickpockets and rouges.
The eyes of the guards half hid in the inky shadows of the
small room went from lustful brazen hunger to a cold glint as
she reached for her weapons.
She buckled on her sword and harness. The sword was a
broadsword but unusually thin. And the harness came with two
slim throwing daggers equipped to it as well.
She slipped a shorter stouter sheathed knife into her tight
laced boot top.
This left her simple backpack and an unlit lantern upon the
chair seat.
She snatched the flagon of wine out of the robed man's hand
with the speed of an angry snake and downed it even faster.
She then handed it back to him and snatched the second flagon
and downed it only slightly slower.
For the first time the robed man's face showed only a trace
of emotion. Something akin to amusement and astonishment as
he reached for the large pitcher on the table behind him and
poured them both another large measure of wine.
He made sure to keep hold of his flagon this time and took a
long steady pull from it as he watched her drain her own in
yet another single pull.
She gasped after finishing the flagon, "my horse?"
"I am afraid the mercenaries kept everything else," he turned
and snapped his fingers and a man grabbed up the empty
pitcher and left the room through its only door and quickly
returned with the pitcher re-filled along with a wooden plate
with a small loaf of bread and broken meats.
The man sat the plate down upon the empty seat of the chair,
the backpack and lantern having been moved to hang off the
back of the chair by another guard, and started to make the
arm motion to pour wine into the woman's empty flagon but
stopped at the stern look the man in robes shot him and
instead just handed her the pitcher which she took in
exchange of her flagon and gulped down several greedy
mouthfuls before savagely attacking the food on the plate
with her fingers.
"Again, I deeply apologize for your, eh, treatment by those
mercenaries that abducted you. But they work for the Empire
and not our city. As soon as I had heard that they had
dropped off a 'highway man' who was a tall red headed woman;
I of course knew that a terrible mistake had been made by
them and that our humble town had become the unexpected host
to the legendary heroine Red Sonja."
Red Sonja shrugged and spoke through a mouth full of food and
wine, "I have been gang raped many times. If they had simply
asked we could have really enjoyed ourselves. As is I will
hunt those pigs down and slay them." She tossed back the
pitcher and finished it and then looked rather disappointedly
at the empty vessel.
"Ah, yes." The robed man snapped his fingers again and gave
the militia man who had brought the wine and food an angry
look to hurry him on his way to re-fill the pitcher. He re
entered the room armed with two full pitchers and Red Sonja
took both of them from him with a belch and a large warm
smile.
The wine was making her pale, full red lipped, large gray
eyed, face glow with a blush that took some of the young
beauties pallid panther predator aura off and replaced it
with a playful kitten-ish glee.
The militia men's hands moved away from the hilts of their
swords which they had been fingering every since she buckled
on her own sword. Only the robed man seemed to show
increasing signs of wariness. He after all was no fool and
knew any wild creature was most dangerous when it seemed most
tame.
"Of course you are entirely free to leave our fair city of
Krag at any time and I completely understand your need to
revenge yourself upon those curs for hire which our city has
nothing to do with. But..." the robbed man shrugged and set
his own still nearly full flagon down upon the small table
behind him. "I could not help but notice that your purse was,
er, well a little light. In fact, you have no money and as
you noted already, no horse or tackle. It will be quiet
difficult to catch up to those roving thieves in the
Emperor's pay on foot and with just a belly full of... food."
The robed man made his way to the door of the small room and
pushed the rough hewn plank door open with a loud creek of
its tared rope hinges. He half turned back towards her, "let
me show you something." He crooked his finger and beckoned
her to join him.
*************************************************************
"It's quiet the view," Red Sonja pushed her long crimson
locks of hair out of her young, wide gray eyed, beautiful
face. Her thick curly red hair usually fell in cascades down
to her backside. But the wind whipping around the tower top
had her fiery locks dancing in a medusa penumbra corona of
agitation about her entire upper body.
"Yes, it is quiet a view. The city of Krag. A transitional
phase from rags to riches." The robed man stood a little in
front of her where a crossbow man had moved out of the way.
The six militia guardsmen armed with their hodgepodge of
spears and swords and occasional piece of armor had followed
them as well and stood in a semi-circle behind her. Their
only unifying uniform being a short sleeveless jack or poncho
tied at the open sides baring the city's symbol. Their badge
of office flapped in the steady erratic wind along with a
large flag set upon a short staff that snapped to and fro and
was identical to the militia jackets in design and color.
It was a lone tower. Short. But freshly made of mortar and
stone. It gave a good view of the city sprawled out below
them. More a town than a city. It was busy. People not only
went about their daily work but stone masons were hammering
away in loud throngs amongst them. It was a town being
converted into a city. Wood into stone.
It had been night when she had been lugged into the city and
she had been hooded as well as tied. She had seen little but
her cell when the hood had been yanked off her only a few
hours ago. She had been dragged out of the cell and into the
small room shortly thereafter. And now she was obviously in
the company of the leader of the community and apparently an
honored guest. She wondered what they wanted from her that
they could not have simply taken by force?
The mud streets were being turned into paving stones. Already
much of the roadway outside of the freshly constructed stone
wall was newly graveled.
There was a strange mix of frontier wooden shacks and new
stone buildings going up all around her. The tower stood
scarcely more then thirty feet off the ground so she could
not only see the work being done but hear it and smell it.
The pitch and tar and fresh sawed wood and smell of stone
dust and sweat and blood.
The stone wall skirted only parts of the small city or large
town leaving open gaps. A wooden palling wall covered in gray
rot and moss encircled the city at a much larger girth beyond
the stone wall going up.
The stone wall was unusually thick and high for such a remote
place. The labor and cost of all this stone work and so many
men being employed at such a fast paced did not seem to match
the size or location of the village.
"It's the mines. The mines pay for this," the robbed man
gestured at some low lying hills and smoky snow capped crags
just beyond them. Primarily we make our trade in sliver work
and salt mining but the Empire found gold and a very large
deposit of silver and brought in slaves to mine that for
coinage. There is a garrison of soldiers at the mines
themselves but they still come here for their supplies and
'entertainment'." He nodded down at a group of laughing
whores who were walking past the tower and chatting with the
stone masons.
"The Empire is not an easy partner to work with. They usually
just take what they want. I am surprised you and all your
people aren't down there in those salt and silver mines in
chains and the soldiers aren't living in your village." Red
Sonja was getting tired of the panoramic tour. She had drank
a good deal of wine but was far from drunk. But she did need
to pee.
The robed man gave her a grim smile. "Well, we are far
removed from their formal boundaries. And other than the
mines their interests here are sparse indeed. The current
civil war I believe has them taking a more hospitable view of
working and trading with us than warring against us... for
the moment at least."
"So you are hurriedly building a wall with their money
against such future view?" Red Sonja was squeezing her thighs
together and starting to shift from one foot to another as
the need to release the pressure on her blader was growing
into a dull tooth ache of agitation.
"No, a mere wall would have little effect against the Empire
and its war machine if it should chose to unleash it against
us. We are building the stone wall against that." The robed
man pointed in the opposite direction of the rising hills and
low mountains. He pointed out into a huge forest of ancient
trees. Their twinged black limbs awash in thick plumes of
white fog.
Unable to take it anymore, Red Sonja walked to the parapet of
the short tower as she talked, "You are building a stone wall
to keep out a forest?" She put one foot up on a stone raised
cornice and lifted the front flap of her bottom garment and
with a slight squat unleashed an anthracite yellow stream of
urine out over the busy city below to several shouts of
anger.
"Hmmm, right on that old miser Valine's cortege. Never liked
that old goat." The robed man leaned over to see the source
of the shouts with a raised eyebrow and then straightened
back up again. "No, of course not. It's what is IN that
accursed wood that we are building our stone walls and
buildings."
"Well, of course." Red Sonja gave a shiver as the steady
stream fell to dribbles and then drops. She walked over to
the nearest man and grabbed the hem of his tunic and whipped
her pussy lips with it before dropping the front of her scale
mail bikini back in place and taking up a position next to
the robed man.
"Perhaps I should start at the beginning," the robed man
forced a smile before his face fell into a brooding pondering
of his tale.
*************************************************************
"It starts with the lake. A few miles into that heavy ancient
wood lies a lake. There is no river leading into it or out of
it. It was formed long ago by a great glacier that even now
still sits at the far end of the lake."
"The lake is naturally bowl shaped and its waters are so pure
and undisturbed that it mirrors everything around it. As such
it was called, 'The Mirror of the Gods,' for the way it
reflected so perfectly the heavens."
"The lake is ice cold and with out a single fish in it. It is
rimmed all the way around by the huge trees of the forest.
Some of those trees are so wide around that a circle of
thirty men all joined in hands could not encircle its trunk."
"The forest is so old that the towering giants have blotted
out the sun for so long that nothing grows under them. Their
roots entwine bare of earth taller than houses. And there is
a matting of decaying leaves so thick you can dig for hours
before hitting the loam of the earth."
"Still nature finds a way and there are great herds of small
miniature deer that are hornless and prance and pronk about
the maze of roots. And there are the occasional great glades
where the aboral giants and their walls of vines and creepers
do not invade.
Here one can find vast oceans and rivers of flowers and
meadow. That feed the huge hives of honey bees that swarm the
surrounding trees."
"It was natural that man would settle there. And one lone
village did arise set up a little way from the lake Mirror of
the Gods."
"The village simply took its name from the lake. So it is or
was called, Mirror of the Gods village."
"They built it in a glade as so many of the trees are simply
impossible to cut down. An army of men could not do it and
when they fell they would be caught by their brethren and
never touch the ground. Still the glades had smaller saplings
and there is a constant dropping of those giants decayed old
limbs to provide what man needs for lumber or fire."
"Still as strange as it sounds much lumber was imported into
this village from out here beyond the edge of the giant
wood."
"This wood was necessary, for the wood is full of wolves.
Packs in the hundreds. Thousands of them. And the winters are
very harsh near the great lake. The snow fall there is very
heavy. And the wolves become exceptionally bold as winter
shrinks their loins and lengthens their throats."
"A strong thick wooden wall was needed to keep the wolves at
bay. A wall with enough small archer posts so the wolves
could be killed as ravishing hunger drove them to the pens of
forest goat and pig that the village kept inside their
walls."
"Strange the omnivorous industry of man. Truly he is the
tailor of the Earth. For the village found it's prime means
of bringing in trade by these very wolves."
"You see, the Empire uses wolf skins with the heads still
attached for its soldiers. They tack the head to a copper
helmet and let the hide fall behind their backs. It's a
standard uniform for the army. The wolf being their banner
and symbol. And the empire needs many soldiers to keep its
expanse well guarded. Thousands a year need to be re-kitted
out. Thousands of wolf hides a year need to be purchased."
"Every spring the people of the village of the Gods Mirror
would wind their creaking wagons laden with wolf pelts and
wild honey and through the twisting road from their village
to ours make the journey. A distance of only a few miles and
yet because of the great trees a forced march of almost an
entire day."
"So it was for many years. From when I was a boy born and
raised here, to my becoming the Master of the city of Krag.
The carts would trundle in and we would trade them wares and
services and they would leave back to their village; their
carts almost as newly laden with goods and necessities as
they were in wolf pelts and pots of honey when they had
emerged from the great forest."
"We in turn of course would add the pelts to our silver works
and other goods and load them into our river barrages and
transport them down to the cataracts where the nomads would
take them across the Endless Desert to the Empire city of
Shem."
"Because of the Empire opening up its own slave mines our
barrages now get an Empire escort of soldiers and there is a
steady caravan route now that portage past the cataracts and
uses a newly built port and fort that continues down the
river to the city of Garn, which the Empire newly took after
its last war against the Kesh. We still continue to trade
with the nomads and the city of Shem as well as we get a
better profit that way."
"And then one spring the wagons from the village of Gods
Mirror did not come."
"It was very strange. We of course sent messengers to see if
a plague had broken out or fire or famine?"
"Maybe all their oxen had sicken or the wolves had finally
breached their walls. The snowdrifts can get quiet high near
the lake."
"Our men came back with a villager they had found wandering
in the forest near the paths and road. And hearing his tale
and the fog and wolves being so thick they made no further
effort to reach the village."
"He was half mad with fear and hunger and thirst."
"Come. You can hear the rest of the tale from him."
*************************************************************
The robed man and escort took her back down the tower and
into the small rooms which made up their holding cells and
prison. The robbed man sent for tapers and oil bowls for
light. Explaining to her that they kept the man in darkness
for in his madness he had gouged out his eyes and thus had no
need for illumination.
There they opened up a door of iron which revealed a man in
heavy chains who ranted and raved in a constant monologue of
horse whispers.
It took a while to get a clarity through his spinning mind
and question him of his tale. Which once he begun it fell out
of him like a stabbed wine sack.
"It started with the fog." The man spat through stubs of
broken teeth and brown spotted gums. "There is always forest
fog in the spring and fall. But it came in the winter. Heavy
blind. You could see nothing. And it remained. Never waning.
Never leaving. It made things... difficult. The men could not
use their walkways and perches of plank and rope to hunt the
forest deer. So we did not have the venison to smoke and salt
pack for the worse of the storms."
"So there was fear of hunger. And it was dangerous for the
women to go to the lake for water every day. We had to send
men. Armed in large groups."
"For you see there was things moving in the fog. Not just
wolves either. Other things."
"The hunters started disappearing. Even in groups. No sign.
Just swallowed up by the fog. Then people started
disappearing in the town. No sign of struggle. Just gone.
None of the wall patrols seeing anything. The only gate
always barred and never opened."
"At first it was only at night. But then it was anytime. Even
during the day amongst a group of people. One would just
vanish. Their voice, their gray muddy shape, just gone in the
blinding fog. Just no longer there."
"It was the fog. And when it came for us inside the walls. It
always came for the children first. It was the children that
vanished. But then it came for anyone and everyone. No rest.
No stop. One at a time. Or a dozen or more. Just gone. Doors
locked. Gate locked. Guards posted everywhere. Gone."
"And the wolves. They grew silent. You could tell when the
wolves took one or twelve at a rush because there would be
blood everywhere."
"When there were only a few dozen of us left we went as a
group. Armed to the teeth. Down to the lake. We needed water.
The way to the lake was a very short distance. We never
believed we could make it through the forest to Krag and its
people. The wolves were everywhere and silent killers now.
And of course the fog. It was everywhere."
But when we got to the lake it was covered in trees. Huge
black towering trees were growing up out of the water! And it
was from these trees that the fog was emulating. thier
canopies, their bark, their shaking shuddering limbs. This
constant milky blinding fog. And you could hear splashing in
the water. There were never any fish there.
But there was a splashing now. The sound of heavy large
objects moving about in the water. Wadding along its
invisible shores. The water its self had turned black so we
took only some of it back. Took back some for the livestock
to drink while we decided we would melt snow and ice and
drink that. But the black water made the animals mad and
sick."
"I don't remember exactly what happened. But the fewer of us
that remained the bolder the things in the fog became. And
the wolves. The wolves had gotten smarter. They were opening
doors now. Moving about no longer like animals but like men.
With purpose. With design. And with glowing red daemon eyes."
"I left the village. Everyone no longer trusted each other.
They barricaded themselves in the stronger houses. There was
fires. The storage sheds all burned down. All the food gone.
The gate was always open. You would bar it. And a few minutes
latter it would be open again. You could see nothing in the
fog. And all sounds came from everywhere and nowhere."
"I have hunted those woods since I was a boy. I could sneak
up on a feral pig and slap it on its ass before it even knew
I was about. I knew every leaf, every twig, I set out for the
city of Krag. Hit the winding road. But I got lost. Ended up
at the black lake with its forest of fog bleeding trees.
Again and again I set out for Krag and again and again I
found myself back at that swampy black mire that used to be
the Mirror of the Gods."
"There is nothing but death there now. Things in the fog. The
worse is not the wolves."
*************************************************************
"I take it you want me to go to this village and see if
anyone is still alive there?" Red Sonja pointed a chicken leg
at the man in the robes as wine and grease dribbled down her
chin.
There were in a much nicer larger room and sitting down this
time at a proper table with both roasted pig and chicken and
quail set before them.
"There is no one left alive in that town. If it still stands.
That man I took you to see was a boy when he was found. The
village of the Mirror of the Gods went silent over ten years
ago."
Red Sonja raised and eyebrow as she chewed on the chicken
leg.
"Besides others have already ventured into the woods. What
the few that managed to find their way out had to say matches
what that poor wretch had to say; woods full of fog and
wolves and things that go bump in the night."
"I don't understand? What DO you want of me?" Red Sonja
reached for another pitcher of wine and quaffed it in one
pull.
"Over the years the fog has slowly but steadily ebbed out
from the Mirror of the Gods lake. It has now reached the edge
of the woods as you saw from the tower. Tendrils of it reach
out from it sometimes but for the most part it has stopped at
the ancient forests edge."
"So, it has stopped. You are safe then." The young buxom girl
used a table knife to stab a fresh red apple and take a bite
out of it with her perfect small white teeth. She paused in
her crunching. "Hmmm, but the wall?"
The robed man gave her an even emotionless stare as he spoke,
"A few weeks ago our children have started to go missing."
*************************************************************
"Everyone is blaming it on bandits that have started to fill
the hills and woodlands since the Empire expanded the mines.
Or escaped slaves. Or bears or wolves. So forth. Everyday
anxious parents expect ransom demands to show up. Or bodies
to be found."
The robed man looked away from the view of the oxbow bend of
the river and the rolling hills and woodlands laying there to
the east and back over at the large fog forest to the west of
Krag. "But of course that will never happen because as we all
know but refuse to talk about is that the ancient forest is
where those children were taken and by something in that
towering expanse."
They were up again on the tower top. It was a cloudy night
and the wind had taken on a chill more attune to autumn than
late summer. As such Red Sonja had accepted a bear skin cloak
and the bristling of its hair and her own red coiffeur mixed
and mingled in the spitting torch light of the crossbow man's
watch perch.
"It is more than the four children that everyone knows about.
There were a passing merchant's two children and a couple of
street waifs before that. We post more guards. Everyone locks
their doors at night. The fog seeps in; thin yet. Only ankle
high really. See, you can see it. The pale spindrift of it.
Snake like as it creeps up from the forest. Slinks up the
hills to our walls. And then slowly crawls to our door steps.
By midnight it will be inside the walls.
I come here and watch it every night now. It will be gone by
morning and some household will wake up with screams and
another child will be gone."
"Each night the fog gets a little heavier. Last night it was
knee deep in the center courtyard at one a.m. In another
month it will be at our gutter roof tops. Soon it will not
bother to leave. And Krag will suffer the same fate as the
village of the Mirror of the Gods. Unless, we can some how
prevent that from happening." The robed man looked over his
shoulder at her; his eyes black and red in the torch light.
"And that is where I come in," Red Sonja smirked. "You want
me to go into a haunted child snatching forest and make it
stop."
"You will of course be well paid," the robbed man gestured
and the escort of militia stepped forward with a small chest
and flipped it open displaying silver and gold coins.
"And a fresh horse and tackle?" Red Sonja licked her lips at
the small chest of treasure.
"Of course." The robbed man shrugged. "Anything you want."
"There will be two men accompanying you. Alistair, a widower,
he is the captain of our Militia guard. Do not let that he is
the captain of a militia guard on the outskirts of nowhere
fool you. He used to be a member of the Empire's Army and his
skill with shield and spear is almost as legendary as your's
with the sword."
"I prefer to work alone," Red Sonja cut off the robbed man.
"Alistair's daughter was taken three days ago. I have done
all I can to keep him out of that accursed wood. With your
arrival and your agrement to enter the wood. Well, I am
afraid he will be going in there with our without you or your
permission."
Red Sonja grimaced and then sighed. "And the second man?"
"His name is Olden. He is a wolf hunter. When the village of
the Mirror of the Gods stopped sending out pelts dozens of
wolf hunters and trappers showed up and started hunting and
trapping the wolves of the fog forest. Of the hundreds that
showed up, only Olden has survived. He doesn't have to go
with you but he's the only man alive who has entered that fog
forest and returned alive to do it over and over again."
Red Sonja sighed again and looked down at the wooden slats of
the roof of the stone tower and then over at the chest of
gold and sliver that now set near her booted feet.
"His skill with the bow is not to be underestimated, either."
The robbed man offered with a shrug.
"If I am going into a fog forest full of wolves I could use a
bow myself." Red Sonja mused out loud.
"Of course. You will be taken to our armory and may take
anything you need. Our smiths are not only known for their
skill in fine metal work but in weapons as well. And the
short composite bow that the villagers of the Mirror of the
Gods favored in the forest tangles have become very popular
with many horsemen over the years." The robbed man gestures
at the trap door leading back down into the tower but made no
move of his own towards it nor did anyone else move as they
carefully watched the still brooding young woman.
Red Sonja straightened up her back and shoulders and stuck
out her small chin with purpose, "I prefer a long bow myself.
Using it Amazon style. Holding it sideways to fire, so the
bow string doesn't slap my tit." She walked quickly to the
trap door shooting out a pointing finger at the chest as she
strode boldly by it, "and bring my money. I want it kept safe
until I return for it!"
*************************************************************
The young girl had wisely insisted they visit the stables and
choose her horse and saddle and tackle and placing all of
these under watch of some traveling merchants and their
guards along with a handful of her future earnings of coins
from her chest kept in the tower to ensure their presence
when she did return. Before she headed outside the city's
half finished stone walls to meet the two men who would
accompany her into the fog forest.
Alistair waited impatiently. He was handsome and strong and
well muscled she could feel a tingle and stir in her pussy
just looking at him.
Olden was not old but young and wirily but unkept and dirty
and lanky to a point of being rendered as undesirable in her
large gray flashing eyes. He seemed bored and slothful and
rose slowly as she approached both men.
Even in the moonlight Alistair looked like some idealized
statue of a young god who had just stepped off his pedestal.
All strong square jawed and high cheekbone and broad
shoulders and deep chest and arms that were as big as her
thighs. While Olden looked well, ugly in comparison. His face
seemed doughy despite his thinness and squashed and smeared a
little. He had an odd pallor about him. Like old ivory. a
sort of whiteness that had been made smoky gray by some fire
or by an extended period of being underground.
His limbs were thin and long but somehow misshapen as if they
were made out of the heavy thick vines that ensnared much of
the trees before them. Knotty as if the muscles were bunched
up somehow in an odd unnatural way.
Red Sonja smiled at Alistair who stood as if he had born to
stand and never sit or lean or slouch. He sneered and
muttered an 'about time' under his breath as he turned
abruptly away from her and barked a command for the gate
guards to open the wooden walls gate.
Red Sonja frowned. She had already made up her mind that
very, very shortly from now she and Alistair would be naked
and having some incredibly mind melting sex. She knew he had
lost his daughter and was upset about that and even that made
him more attractive but if he was going to ruin her orgasm by
being a dick about things; then she would gut him like a pig
and leave him for the wolves of fog forest.
The city of Krag had two gates. One which lead to east and
the oxbow and river with its barges and wharfs. And this one
leading to the west and that now clanged and banged loudly
open before them; which lead to a somewhat overgrown muddy
track that was quickly swallowed up by the towering giants of
forest trees.
She had never seen trees so big before. It was truly an awe
inspiring sight to see such ancient giants creaking back and
forth upon the breath of the fog.
The winding path that connected Krag to the village of the
Mirror of the Gods had become overgrown with brush and small
saplings over ten years of nonuse. As such they would have to
venture forth on foot without horses. Olden sometimes would
take a donkey cart pulled by a small pony with him when he
went into the fog woods to hunt and trap wolves. He offered
to do this now.
Olden seemed to think this was Red Sonja's party and Alistair
obviously seemed to think he was in charge. Olden was being
paid by the city of Krag of course and Alistair just wanted
to find his daughter and bring her back home or to the burial
grounds.
Alistair had no desire to have a clunky loud donkey cart
rattling around slowing them down. He was in a hurry damn it.
Red Sonja liked the idea of having some extra gear for the
camps they would have to make.
A pointless compromise was angrily struck between the two
mule headed 'leaders' and Olden unhitched his pony and lead
it behind him into the woods.
The pony wore a loose skirt of chain mail to help protect it
from sudden wolf attacks. This meant while it could still
'pull' a cart of some weight it could not be further burden
with carrying too much in gear upon its own back. As such the
pony was packed up with only a few more items than what they
were already carrying and far less than the cart was hauling.
Olden said nothing about this pointlessness and simply lead
his pony and the two fuming and foul faced pair of leaders
into the night forest.
Red Sonja wore her backpack slung high up on her back. The
straps digging in deep on her huge tits. Her freshly filled
lantern hung off her shapely hip and her new bow and quiver
sat upon her other hip. Her sword was out and she was using
it chop at the bramble and brush before her as she cursed her
ill luck to be so horny with such a stud a few feet away from
her and not a decent place to 'lay' down anywhere!
Alistair quickly showed that despite his three days of
impatient waiting that he had not supplied himself at all!
He wore leather breaches and boots and jerkin and carried a
spear and shield of the High Imperial style; which were heavy
and long. But he hand not brought any food or light or
anything else. He lumbered through the thicket and was
already being scratched and bug bitten something fierce.
Olden meanwhile had hung a somewhat odorous small clump of
weeds around his neck that was designed rather successfully
to keep the mosquitos away. He had a lantern lit at his hip
for light and held the bridle of his pony, Gwen, as he lead
her through the tangle. His other hand held his bow with a
arrow already notched and held in place by his index finger
with a rather large quiver of more arrows strung across his
back.
As soon as they had entered the fog woods Olden had pulled up
his hood which showed he was wearing the wolf mantle style of
wolf head for cap and wolf body falling back down the back as
the Empire used for its armies. Save his did not have a
copper helmet to which the wolf head was attached.
Within a hundred yards the overhead canopy and the fog
succeeded in rendering everything a blind white soup of
swirls and cloudy shapes. The lanterns only succeeded in
making one particularly aware of how little one could
actually see.
Both Red Sonja and Alistair were rendered mute and helpless
both clinging on either side of Gwen to her saddle bags and
walking with shoulder forward and arm raised as if they were
breasting a sleet storm to avoid the constant slap of
branches to the face.
How Olden could make out the twisting path in anyway in the
swirling blind fog was anyone's guess.
But the fact that he could and seemed to be doing so
effortlessly left Red Sonja uneasy and anxious.
*************************************************************
"If your children are being taken by supernatural means then
I am not sure why you think I can be of any help?" Red Sonja
brushed a hand over the mare she had just chosen and watched
as the stable lad lead it out to the merchants who were
encamped in the court yard of the town.
"You are Red Sonja, you are renowned for taking on
sorceresses and witches and black magicians and spectral
beings from the lands of the dead." The man in the robes
shrugged as she spoke simply. "Besides I have a gut feeling
that there is something flesh and bone behind all of this."
"If you think I am going to wander around a fog forest until
I get eaten by wolves. You are in for a surprise." The young
teen flashed her small perfect white teeth at the robbed man.
"Make your way to the village of the Mirror of the Gods. See
if there are any bandits or black priests or such there
about's. If you find nothing but ruins then proceed to the
lake its self. See what there is to be seen there. If there
be nothing but wolves and fog then come back here. Maybe we
can pick up some kind of trail or set a trap of some kind for
these child thieves." The man in the robes finished paying
the stable man for the horse and tackle. "In either case, try
and make it back to Krag. If you simply go into the forest
and die it won't do anything for easing the fears of the
people. If you investigate the village and the lake then at
least that has been done. So far all we have is the ranting's
of one lone mad man. Someone has to verify or deny his
accounts."
Red Sonja played the conversation over and over again in her
head. It explained why Alistair was along for the ride. There
was no way he would simply go into the fog forest a few
hundred yards and make camp for a day or two and come back to
Krag with some yarns to tell.
It also explained the guide Olden as he was the only one who
had any kind of familiarity with the forest since the fog had
taken it over and the village within it had fallen silent.
"How long does it usually take in this fog to reach the
village of the Mirror of the Gods, Olden?" Red Sonja lowered
her arm and turned her head in the direction of where the
front of the pony should be and where Olden's back should be.
It was hard to gauge how loud one was speaking when blind.
For a moment there was only the constant crash and snap of
underbrush and Red Sonja was about to repeat her question a
bit louder when Olden's voice came surprisingly clear and
near out of the fog.
"I am not sure. I have never been that far into the wood. I
make my living hunting and trapping wolves and animals. Not
exploring haunted ruins."
"What?! You have never been there?!" Alistair erupted from
some where on the other side of the pony. Before he could add
any more there was the unmistakable slapping crash of a
whipping limb slapping him harshly in the exposed face. Red
Sonja tried not to laugh too loudly.
"No. In another few hours we will be at the farthest point I
have ever ventured along the path. My understanding is that
it is about half way to the village its self. There is a rest
stop built into the road way there." Olden's voice sounded
non-pulsed. Red Sonja thought she might even had detected a
slight yawn. Considering her own heighten anxiety over being
unable to see and her drawn weapon sticky with sap that kept
catching at her hair as she raised it again and again before
her half turned face; she found this lack of nervousness both
infuriating and somewhat reassuring. Of course it might be
the man's character to not crack a sneer even while being
eaten alive. As such the reassuring aspect disappeared into
the milky white fog all around her.
*************************************************************
Daybreak came. You could tell because the milky white gray
fog became a milky white white fog.
They reached the 'rest stop' in the road way exhausted. Even
the pony laid down just as soon as the mail mantle was
unstrapped from her.
The rest stop was a campsite built into the middle of the
roadway. Since the road way was a rutted dirt track now
overgrown with saplings and brush it wasn't too surprising
that the campsite was little more than the ruins of what had
once been an elaborate wooden stockade.
Designed more to protect resting animals from sudden predator
attacks rather than accommodating people. The large circular
wooden palisade housed nothing more than a sturdy wooden wall
with a gate and several fire pits with stacks of fire wood
kept under leather tarp's.
Still it was as welcome as the most luxurious public house
ever was and the weary travelers made themselves at home.
Building several large fires and setting up their bed rolls
under the still standing lean-to's.
Well, Red Sonja and Olden set up their bed rolls. The ill
prepared Alistair made do with the saddle bags as a pillow
and the horses attires for a blanket.
So far in their journey they had not been harassed by
anything more violent than hordes of mosquitoes and bitting
flies, but Olden said that wolves had been following them.
Matching their progress on both sides as well as behind them.
As soon as Olden was asleep. Red Sonja slipped out of her bed
roll and made her way over to Alistair and his makeshift
sleeping arrangements. She had to hold a knife to his throat
during her first two orgasms but by the third he was more
than quiet willing and they were both enjoying themselves
quiet well into her fourth and fifth.
She left him panting and moaning and made her way back to her
own bed as his smelled like wet horse and seamen.
At least he had not disappointed her in penis size and
endurance. If she felt the itch on the way back she might let
him join her in her own bed roll when they camped her again.
*************************************************************
Olden said the wolves seemed surprised when they continued
west toward the village and the lake instead of retracing
their steps as Olden always did. This gave them several hours
of unmolested confusion on the part of the ever growing packs
of wolves slinking all around them.
But it didn't last. The attack came suddenly and explosively.
It started with a single wolf that simply lopped out in front
of them and then stopped and waited for them.
The fog was sometimes thin enough so one could see several
yards ahead of them and sometimes so thick you could not see
your hand in front of your face. Day or night the fog seemed
to billow and wane but never entirely vanish.
The wolf blocking their way never did attack them. The
attacks came from the sides and behind. Becoming increasingly
more organized as it progressed.
It quickly became a running battle as everyone followed the
pony's lead who bolted off and in less than forty minutes
lead them straight to the open gates of the village of the
Mirror of the Gods.
They followed the pony through the gate and managed to get it
closed and barred just as the wolves seemed to realize that
their quarry had managed to escape them.
The attacks prior to this had almost been playful compared to
the unleashed furry that now followed. Wolves chewed upon the
upright logs of the wall. The leapt and threw themselves at
the gate making it shudder and thump like a large drum.
From the archer steps inside the wall. Red Sonja and Olden
unleashed a fearful loss upon the wolves. They died by the
dozens before the pack simply vanished back into the fog to
regroup.
Alistair had managed to take care of the ones who had made it
inside the wooden wall. There were at least a half dozen
places where the wolves had dug away at the wall and formed
crawl pits under its pilings.
These were quickly located and filled with the mountains of
debris that were strewn about the enclosure.
Broken ox carts and barrels and crates lay about in scattered
heaps. From the dung and pug markings it was obvious that the
wolves had been using the village for a den for some time.
Remembering the story of the gate opening by its self in the
fog. Red Sonja quickly barricaded it with carts and sacks of
rotted beans and flour so the doors could not be forced open
even it the great bar was drawn from within somehow.
Instead of trying to secure the entire village and its
lengthy wall. They decided to pick one large well fortified
building that sat near the wall and barricaded its lower
openings and then ran a rope to the top of an archer perch on
the wall its self before destroying the ladder and steps that
lead up to the perch. Now they could sleep secure in the
fortified building and come and go via ropes from that
building or even climb across to the wall and descend down it
via ropes.
This only left Gwen unprotected. But having lead them to the
city and raced inside of it. Gwen was no where to be found.
They had no time to look for her as they needed to get their
fortified building and rope walkways set up before the next
wolf attack. But they kept an eye out and looked for her
tracks but could find no sign of her.
This meant they had lost a significant portion of their
supplies and rations as well as extra weapons and arrows.
There was no time to worry about this as the second wolf
attack came even as they were finishing the fortifying of
their building. Obviously there were several more areas the
wolves had dug their entrances and exits under the wooden
wall for in minutes a pack of hundreds of wolves surrounded
the three story building and raced around it.
They shot arrows and threw leather aprons full of fire coals
and torches at the wolves to little effect until night fell
again and the fog made it impossible to see the wolves except
as intermittent ghostly shapes.
The building had been part smithy part stable and had
obviously been the fortified store room for the armory and
guard post for the village. It was three stories tall in that
a small one story lookout post had been built upon the top
corner roof of the second floor. It was set directly inside
the wall next to the gate.
The smithy with simple small furnace and anvil and smelter
and grinding stone sat outside the building connected by open
sided sheds. The stables sat upon the other side so the
building had a winged profile.
The only building taller was the windmill where grain had
been ground. That a lot of grain had been ground in the
village was obvious by the fact that there was an ox driven
mill as well within eyesight of the windmill its self.
It was during this night, hold up in their building, that
they first saw the large wolves. They were white and moved
silently and made no sound. They moved amongst the normal
sized wolves but where three to four times their size. They
came out only at night and they did not seem to belong to any
pact but roamed freely amongst the other wolves who bowed and
scrapped as they passed.
Olden had never seen wolves like these before and he could
only shake his head and marvel at them.
Once night fell and the fog thickened they stopped wasting
their arrows and coal and torches and simply stood watch on
the top floor of the building having already blockaded the
stairs between the first floor and the second abandoning the
first floor despite its full wares of half rotted food and a
small cistern half full with scummy water set conveniently
inside the downstairs structure.
The sudden appearance of the large wolves had simply eroded
their confidence in the makeshift barricades they had built
down there on the first floor.
As night wore on the wolves simply vanished. Both large and
small stopped their slow silent dances about the buildings
perimeter and other stranger shapes appeared and disappeared
until the sun rose and the fog faded back into a mist where
one could once again see now and then as it swelled and
swirled and recoiled back.
Though they knew they had killed several wolves in both
attacks not a single wolf body remained behind.
*************************************************************
They lowered themselves down the outside of the building on
ropes rather than remove any of their barricades. And very
cautiously began a tentative search of the village.
Most of the doors stood open and the whole place had a look
of being ransacked. But nothing seemed to have been taken.
Rather the items of the households and storage sheds had been
emptied out into the streets and destroyed. Or pulled off the
shelves or out of chests and barrels and tossed upon the
floors. Beds were overturned as was every cart.
There was still no sign of Gwen and their supplies so they
began to scavenge even as they searched.
There was no sign of bandits nor would bandits have broken
everything and taken nothing.
Still no wolves no matter what the size could have so
systemically opened chests and barrels and pulled items off
shelves and then sat about breaking the items for no other
purpose but to destroy them.
There was signs of wolves habitation everywhere. They had
turned fireplaces into birthing dens, had chewed upon many of
the broken bric-a-brac, but they had not been the ones to
have opened locked doors and entered barricaded homes that
still remained barricaded when the party now searched them
and found everything within tossed about and broken as well.
Even cellars with doors still covered and chain locked had
their contents raffled through and scattered when the party
snapped those locks and searched them now.
They used found axes to cut there way through doors and
windows nailed shut from the inside to find long sealed rooms
over turned and all items scattered but nothing taken. Items
of value to any thief or brigand lay half trampled under
foot.
Red Sonja concluded that no one had been in the ruins of the
village in years and that no wolf or thief had been the cause
of so much wanton destruction.
They gave up further searching of the village and
concentrated on scavenging for supplies and weapons and
returned to their stronghold well before nightfall. It had
been a day of thin mist and fog but with the setting of the
sun the fog thickened deeply and with it came a fresh horde
of wolves. They wasted not an arrow but sat upon the second
story roof and watched the black shapes swim about the
building.
They listened to their savage attacks against the sealed up
doors and windows of the first floor and could hear the snap
and crack of timber as their barricades began to crumble and
fall.
Still they had spent a good part of the late afternoon
wedging anything they could find into the stairwell between
the first and second floor and they were confident it would
survive at least one night of attacks. The large wolves who
showed up as the night wore on seemed to have no interest in
attacking the barricades or entering the downstairs building.
But they had lost the first floor. And as the new born day
began to thin the fog a little they realized that the wolves
were not leaving as they had on the first day. The large
wolves left but the pact of hundreds remained camped all
around them and under them in the downstairs of their strong
hold.
The stranger shapes had not showed up this time. Maybe that
is why the wolves had stayed. Red Sonja pondered that as she
chewed on hard tack which she soaked with the last of her
wine.
They had expected to repeat their scavenging again today but
the company of wolves camped on their doorstep discouraged
any notion of that. If the wolves did not leave then they had
enough stale ale and food for four more days at best. That
would be four rather hungry days and thirsty days and
sleepless nights.
No one had slept more than a few hours since they had left
the halfway palisade encampment on the roadway.
With their rope causeway to the archer perch and wall and
plenty of scavenged oil and clay pots they were rather
confident they could launch a serious fire attack on the
wolves while setting their own building on fire and escape in
the confusion. That would give them a fighting head start to
reach the halfway encampment enclosure.
So leaving was not a real worry. Staying alive once they left
was on the other hand something they all debated as being
'iffy' at best.
Olden was confident they could reach the encampment if they
left during the day. But the large wolves could easily leap
its walls. They had never ventured that far east before but
he was sure they would follow them all the way out of the
woods and right up to the stone walls of Krag it's self.
Now that they had their scent they would track them like
hellhounds.
So the wooden walled half way point encampment was no longer
the oasis of safety it had been on the way here.
And it was impossible to make it out of the woods before
nightfall.
To all of this was added the angry morose mopping of Alistair
who had found no answers to his daughters disappearance and
was agitating that they needed to investigate the lake its
self and see about this forest of black trees that was
producing this fog.
That seemed suicidally stupid to Red Sonja and even Olden
seemed a bit peevish about the idea of heading even a short
distance in the opposite direction of the edge of the woods
and the way out.
In the end it would Red Sonja's decision for she was amused
to see that just one night of a few hours in her arms had the
aloof authoritative Alistair pussy whipped!
*************************************************************
Red Sonja's decision was to leave just before dawn. Erupting
hell its self down upon the wolves and in the confusion and
masking of their scent by the oil and fire; to make for the
wall and the archer perch and then using ropes already placed
their to descend the outer wall and make for Krag as fast as
possible.
To help confuse the wolves and mask their scent further they
had soaked found hooded robes with a mixture of herbs from
the local apothecary's stores that Olden said were particular
distasteful to the nose of a wolf and common enough to blend
them in somewhat with the woods themselves.
To further this cause Red Sonja soaked her own scale mail
bikini in the foul mixture and ordered the men to strip down
naked and wear nothing but the soaked hooded capes when they
left.
She enjoyed the idea of having her men naked and was
pleasantly surprised to see that the much less handsome Olden
had an even more impressive set of tackle then Alistair had.
She made sure with smiles and eyebrow raising and winks that
Alistair also realized this.
At the appointed time, guessed at due to the slight thinning
of the fog and the disappearance of the large wolves, Red
Sonja put back on her bikini armor and the men smeared even
more of the foul concoction upon their naked bodies under
their skunk smelling hooded capes.
Within moments the fortified base was ablaze. They had poured
oil down the still stuffed with broken furniture staircase
between the first and second floor and had set several fire
pots filled with oils and other flammables on the second
floor.
It was a 'killing of the horses' moment in setting their
stronghold ablaze. No turning back. The second floor reached
the roof by means of a ladder which no wolf could climb. So
by burning the building they were destroying the only refuge
in the village that the wolves could not reach.
Still they needed a large fire to help mask their movements
and their scents in the fog from the sharp senses of the
wolves.
The wolves were clever and smart and nothing clever and smart
would destroy its own den.
To the wolves it would seems as if in an attempt to destroy
them their own prey had destroyed its self. Of course they
would immediately start searching for them once the building
was smoldering ruins. By sure number some would be searching
even at the start of the fire.
Things don't always go as planed.
The watch tower built upon the top of the second floor caught
fire almost before the rest of the building and it toppled
and clattered against the nearby wooden wall and barricaded
gate.
Even as Red Sonja and her party used the rope bridge to reach
the wooden wall the ten year old desiccated unkept heavily
tarred timber was ablaze.
Pieces of the burning building fell about the panicked wolf
pack setting some wolves ablaze even as those tossed fire
pots they sent hurling before escaping did the same. Long
sleek flaming wolves raced in pain and fear and soon other
buildings were burning as well.
Sparks and cinders set the still slowly turning windmill on
fire.
By the time they had clambered down from the wall and raced
into the fog wood the wall its self was a ring of fire and it
was obvious that within hours every building in the village
would be burning.
The smell of char and burnt wolf hair penetrated even the
skunk aroma of their disguise.
The heat in the cold fog was intense. One could actually see
the warping and wimpling of the fog as the furnace of fire
seethed its fish belly skin.
They disappeared into the fog attacking and killing dozens of
wolves who they stumbled across one by one. Taking them in
the sudden sight of the dawn's few feet of visual eddies the
sun now gave them in the fog.
Bow, spear, shield, sword, twanged and cut and pierced fury
hide and broke tooth and nail.
The fog was not working entirely on their side. For it was
not thinning as it had with sunrise as it had the day before
but was stubbornly remaining in thick clumps and swirls
almost as if they were giant shapes of oceanic beings
floating through the thinner white meld.
They found the path. With the wall of roots of the true
forest its self it was not difficult. If you wanted to move
forward you either had to climb a maze of roots or move
through areas where those roots had been chopped clear
decades ago by the villagers.
The path of least resistance guided them blindly on.
After what seemed hours of weary constant battle the presence
of wolves gave way. Arms sore from constant use, lungs
burning from constant fighting and rushing about, chests
strained from back breaking attacks and avoidance, legs
bleeding from the choking brambles and brush. They found
themselves in calm eerie silence.
The scent of char was distant now. The roar of fire crackling
hate a background hush.
They stood as if in unspoken mutual agrement in stock still
in half crouched silence. All senses pealed and raw as the
milky fog seethed and bellowed around them.
Then carefuly Red Sonja took a foot step forward. There was a
splash as her foot came down. They all looked at her foot.
Water. Black foul looking water.
The fog parted.
They gazed upon a swamp of towering black trees.
Unnatural trees to be sure.
Threes that breathed forth a white hissing fog where their
leaves should have been. Clouds of churning white instead of
rustling leaves.
The fog poured forth into the heavens forming a wall of white
all above them even as the lower fog about them gave way to a
thinning mist letting them see further and further as more
and more was revealed.
Sonja's foot fall splash was echoed and answered by another
distant splash and then another and then another and then
soon dozens of splashed echoed around them.
They had spun around in the fog battle with the wolves and
had proceeded in the wrong direction. They were at the Mirror
of the Gods lake.
The splashes were movement. One set came louder and louder
towards them. Soon they saw a tall lank black shape.
Humanoid. Come splashing through the shallow swampy black
water. It must have seen them far before they saw it for it
came at them out of the thin fog at fifty yards at a rush.
Towering at twelve feet, black skinned, wearing a pale
elongated mask, it came at them in silent rage.
At twenty yards, instinct, freed up their exhausted limbs and
as oil to rust they began to fire arrows at the thing. They
riddled it with a dozen by the time it closed in a predator
leap. It's claws rented Alistair's shield rendering it
useless. Spear and sword and more arrows now thrust and fired
at three feet impact finally brought the thing down.
It was Alistair who bent down and removed its wooden mask. It
was Alistair who screamed. For it was the twisted mutated
face of his young daughter.
*************************************************************
There had been no bodies of the villagers in the village. No
remains. No bones. No corpses half rotting in cellars after
ten years of decay. Red Sonja had kept wondering where they
had all gone. Four hundred souls. The twisted shapes in the
fog. The ones the wolves and larger wolves avoided like a bow
wave. Fleeing before their arrival. She had suspicions and
had almost out of instinct stilled Alistair's questioning
hand.
Behind them the scream caused the woods to reverberate with
sudden rush of thick pawed movement. A flood of wolves was
about to descend upon them.
Before them the splashing stopped and then began again in
rapid patters like a driving rain racing forward toward them.
"Better the black swamp where one could see." Red Sonja
muttered and raced forward not bothering to see if the others
would follow her or remain where they were.
She expected Alistair to remain frozen my his mutated
daughter's side. She expected Olden to choose the wolves over
the black skinned humanoids. She expected to be killed in
less than thirty seconds when she raced face first into the
rushing path of another towering black skinned masked
monster.
She was wrong in all accounts.
Alistair and Olden where at her back and together they
wounded this one who kneeled down and went under a wave of
teeth flashing wolves.
All around them they could see wolves and towering tall black
slim long limbed figures fighting in the black forest mists.
The figures were easily killing the wolves but amongst the
wolves where the white ghostly larger wolves and these where
balancing out the battles scales.
Both wolf and humanoid went down in bloody rented severed
limb eviscerated death.
The white mist seemed to grow red as if it was feeding on the
spilled blood.
Red Sonja used the tumult of confusion to weave and bob
through the onslaught. At full sprint they all raced through
the battle as fast as they could. It became obvious that the
huge towering black barked trees had almost drank dry the
waters of Mirror of the Gods and that the water depth ranged
from ankle deep to knee high.
They pushed on. Through the very heart of the accursed forest
of nightmare trees. The farther in they went the less fog
there was at their level though the fog above them grew
darker and darker until it was almost black as pitch.
Soon it was a lack of light not fog that was impairing their
vision.
They had no choice but to stop and light Red Sonja's hip
lantern and move more cautiously through the swampy roots of
the trees.
The men had lost their hooded cloaks and thankfully much of
their skunk smell. They splashed as quietly as possible
behind Red Sonja like faithful hounds who were following a
master into unfamiliar grounds.
They came upon a clearing amongst the towering trees where
the water was all but gone and in the raised up center sat a
huge massive twisted black tree. Massive in girth but stunted
in height.
For it was wide enough that its trunk and roots covered an
area almost the size of the now ashen village ruins but its
trunk rose no more than twenty feet off the dry mound floor.
Red Sonja approached cautiously. The sound of battle distant
behind them.
All silent and calm.
There were pathways in the earth and it was easy to see where
the feet of many had trod up to the squat tree and then up
along its roots to the top of its trunk.
For the limbs of the top of the trunk were stunted as well
and spread out as if the entire structure where a giant
throne.
Up they went.
Winding their way up the roots to the bowl shaped top of the
massive tree. Where no bird sang. No creature stirred.
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It was as if it were made entirely of wood. Its skin was
veined and in places barked. It's long head was crowned in a
wreath of spiraling wood horns. It's long limbs were covered
in short mossy sprouts that acted as fingers. It's eyes were
small and black and covered its entire body. It had no mouth
but some of the fingers had sharp tooth suckers on their
tips.
It elongated as it stood up to meet them. Under its barked
skin it showed a soft snail like white and red patchy
membrane.
Next to it was a strange craft. A sailing ship from the look
of it but hulled in some kind of metal. Obviously twisted
from a wreck. How a sailing ship had reached a landlocked
lake was beyond her; but Red Sonja knew this was the source
of the foul black magic and the stealer of children in the
night.
She charged it before it had even finished rising from where
it had been bent over its craft.
It raised up an arm and hundreds of green and red and white
tentacles sprang forth and engulfed her body. The small
sucker mouths had a numbing effect where they bite at her
body drawing blood slowly up their stretched length. Only her
iron will kept her sword in her hand and her arm failing.
Alistair and Olden leapt to her defense. Alistair hacking at
the tentacles with his broad bladed heavy spear and Olden
slamming splintering arrow after arrow into the creature who
was thus kept distracted as it tried to engulf him as well.
The thing seemed immune to attack.
It was Red Sonja, who defying all her warrior's instinct,
dropped her sword and grabbed her lantern off her hip and
threw it into the face of the beast.
It burst into flame with shocking speed.
Soon both Alistair and Olden were cutting wrenching yanking
at the flaming tentacles which struggled to keep their hold
upon the young woman.
With blistered fingers they managed to free her and all three
staggered back gasping as the thrashing body of the thing
burned in silent effigy.
The out of breath but otherwise unharmed woman brushed at the
small leech like bite wounds upon her body and staggered to
her feet. "Thanks boys. That's the first time anything with
tentacles tried to eat me instead of mating with me. Thing
must have been as gay as a blind fruit bat."
She plucked up Alistair's spear. The haft was broken. She
walked steadily up to the sailing craft where inside a large
fleshy heart like thing beat and pulsed and there she sank
the blade in deep. It convulsed and shimmied and the glowing
light emulating from it faded and died as black foul blood
flowed from its stilled form.
Instantly the towering black trees ceased their spewing of
fog. And the black roots growing out of the craft and into
the large tree they stood upon grew ashen and gray. The gray
quickly spread to the black trees. Which seemed to almost
instantly to wither and decay.
*************************************************************
The party left the now graying hulk of the throne tree and
made there way back in the direction of the village. The
black churning fog above now given way to rain clouds that
thundered and poured down a deluge upon them.
Soon they found themselves walking through a great throng of
wolves. Who parted and made a corridor to let them pass
through them.
The wolves both large and normal sized stood silently and
watched them pass.
Many had died or been wounded but those that remained stood
silent sentinel and eyed them with a strange mix of fearless
calm and rapt caution.
None of the black skinned elongated masked humanoids remained
alive. And when they reached Alistair's daughters remains it
was already rapidly rotting into something like a mulch pile
of old leaves.
The air was filled with rain and cinders from the ruins of
the village. The combination rendered the great towering old
ancient forest immune to fire's wraith but oddly the now gray
withered tress of the lake's black forest caught the dull
embers and quickly burst into flames despite the downpour of
rain. They burned with an evil foul green smoldering smoke
and toppled into fragments or those few that remained
standing did so as great towers of rain gouged ash.
At the halfway stockade encampment they found Gwen patiently
waiting for them as if they had somehow agreed she should so
sensibly do so. Here they consumed their much needed and
wanted final rations from the saddle bags and rested.
With morning they walked through a clear un-foggy but damp
and dripping forest. Resplendent and green and bright blues
and murky browns. The earth rich as black freshly ground
coffee beans and the air crisp as morning diamond dew.
The rain soak and a good scrubbing at the halfway encampment
had rendered Sonja fresh and sweet upon the bright air and
had the youth eager and bolstering as she chided the worn and
tired battle scared naked men to keep up with her and Gwen.
"Hurry up lads! I have a chest of gold and a fine steed
waiting for me. And I am quick to use my chest to get some
good wine down my gullet and some powerful stallion between
my legs!" She turned her head looking at them over her
shoulder and laughed and winked at them with brass unbridled
glee.
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