Part 4 - Shrouded Lair

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The woods were eerily quiet as if the fog had snuffed out and suffocated all life within. Thick and overpowering, the swirling fog obscured the sellsword's vision to less than a couple of feet at best. The gnarled, twisted trees felt corrupted, like they were reaching out to serve their new master of the fog. The four of them kept close to each other as they stalked through the woods, keeping an eye out and ear open in case something attacked them from the cover of the fog. Niklas held up a lantern lent to them by Paulette to give them some kind of rally beacon. The orange light faintly glowed within the ravenous fog that had enveloped everything around them. Niklas knew it wouldn't help if they were actually separated, but it was better than nothing.

Only the sounds of cracking branches and shuffling leave permeated the woods. The four sellswords silently marched through the woods with a feeling of all-powerful uncertainty running through their minds. Amira kept to the front, with Niklas standing just behind her and the errants side by side behind him. Even with the fog obscuring their faces, Niklas could see Gauthier's wide-eyed expression and paranoid scanning of the swirling fog. Marc did not share his partner's fear, instead allowing his irritation to shift his focus away from the woods and toward Amira in front of him. Amira had paid little mind to the three of them, only occasionally giving speedy glances behind her to ensure they were still there.

After wordlessly wandering in the woods for up an untold amount of time, Niklas had become attuned to the rhythm of their steps. The cacophony of cracking twigs and scattering dead leaves had become nothing more than background noise while he listened for anything, any sound that could reveal where something was hiding. As he listened, he almost bumped into Amira, who had stopped and held her hand up vertically.

"Quiet." She whispered to the rest of them. 

Crack, crack

Two large, slow steps could be heard to their right. Whatever it was, the fog was too thick for them to see. The four of them kept absolutely silent, listening for more footsteps. Niklas felt a slight tapping on his arm from his left as Amira motioned him to dim the lantern. While he snuffed out the candlelight and set the lantern to his waist, more rustling could be heard in the distance. 

'Damn thing toying with us.' Niklas thought to himself as its gaze pierced through his skull and chilled him to the bone.

After that, silence. Marc and Gauthier slowly unsheathed their swords in anticipation, with Amira doing the same moments later. The sellswords and the unknown thing held firm waiting for the other to act. Niklas began to draw his sword and turned to the two errants who were scanning the horizon for it. Marc kept himself calm, though Gauthier's entire body was shaking, barely able to hold his sword straight. 

It was within that moment, a large silhouette appear right from the fog in front of Gauthier. Before they could even react, the black mass shot out an arm and grabbed Gauthier by the head. The creature effortlessly lifted the errant up and slammed him into a tree, impaling the errant's neck through a sharp branch. Drops of blood and the sounds of gurgling were the only sounds they could hear from him.

"Gauthier!!!" Marc shouted as he watched his partner being impaled by the throat upon the crooked.

He charged at the hulking beast standing almost twice the height as him. It simply smacked him with its thick black arms, launching him onto the ground toward Niklas. With quick second thinking, Niklas stepped to the side and thrust himself forward. Before his sword could even connect, the creature instantly faded away in the same way it had arrived, leaving only dry mist in its wake.

"Hungh, ahh." Gauthier could only manage wordless gurgling and coughing while he flailed his arms around, attempting to pull himself from the tree. 

"No no no don't die on me! Don't die on me!" Marc exclaimed as he pulled Gauthier off of the blood-soaked branch. He turned to Niklas and Amira in a panic. "Don't just stand there, help me! I've got to stop the bleeding!"

Gauthier lifelessly stared up into the sky while Marc attempted to tend to his wound. With the last of his strength, he tried to tell his long-time friend to stop, that there was nothing he could do to save him, though no words came out. 

"Hungh, ack, ahh." Gauthier closed his eyes with one last choking gasp, finally free from the pain.

The trees around them began to creak and crack as the creature circled them, dragging its massive claws across the tree trunks.

"Stay together and watch each other's backs. It's looking for an opening." Amira shouted. She and Niklas stood back to back, swords drawn and eyes focused on the fog. Marc, hands soaked in the blood of his long-time friend, stood up and joined the two of them.

"What the fuck is that thing?!" Marc yelled out.

Marc's voice was merely background noise to Niklas as the faint, black silhouette came into his view. Its predatory gaze assaulted his composure, pressuring him to drop his guard and flee. 

How long are you going to keep me waiting? Niklas thought. 

Refusing to answer his question, the creature faded into the fog, leaving the forest to be quiet once again. The three of them held firm, refusing to move a muscle lest it would strike again.

Snap

The creature burst through the fog in an instant, ramming through all three of them, tossing Marc and Amira to the side, and flinging Niklas into the air. He flipped through the air, landing on his back, still gripping his sword. Just as quickly as it attacked, the black figure appeared above him and swing its claw at the downed sellsword. Niklas reacted by thrusting his weapon upwards, hitting it directly in the palm.

It paused for a moment as its hand sunk further into the blade, allowing Niklas to see it clearly for the first time. Its skin was black like the night sky, covered in strange white hairs that released small clouds of fog. Its body was covered in tattered and torn cloth, hanging past its waist like a coat. Its head was nothing more than the lifeless skull of a bull decorated with symbols Niklas had never seen before.

It didn't make any sound, but it clearly was in pain. The monster ripped its hand from his blade and faded away, becoming one with its fog yet again. 

Niklas stood back up, his head swinging around for another ambush.

"Marc, Amira!" He shouted, running back to where they were.

"We're here." Marc answered. 

Niklas followed the sound of his voice until he could faintly see him and Amira.

"Are you both alright?" Niklas asked.

"Bruised, but I'll be fine. What about you?" Amira answered.

"It almost killed me, luckily I managed to stab it in the hand. Whatever it is, it can be hurt by our weapons." Niklas said.

"So we can kill it." Marc said.

"That we can. I managed to get a good look at it before it ran. Its skull had some markings on it that looked magical. I think that's  where we'll need to hit it." Niklas replied.

"Wait, was it just a skull? No flesh or eyes?" Amira asked.

"From what I could see, just the skull of a bull." Niklas answered.

"Shit, I think I know what we're up against." Amira said. "It's a Wraith. I read about them a while ago. They're summoned creatures that are violent, sadistic, and completely uncontrollable. Someone probably summoned this one, but it eventually got loose." 

"Did it mention anything about fog like this? What about a way to kill it?" Marc asked.

"From what I remember the text said it can turn into fog, but I didn't mention anything like this. As for how to kill it, didn't say anything specific." Amira said.

"So we know what it is. So, what's our plan now?" Niklas asked, turning his back to them and facing out into the fog.

"Where far too deep to turn back now. The best we can do is keep moving, and kill it before it kills us." Amira answered.

Marc stepped toward the lifeless body of Gauthier and knelt down, placing his sword next to him.

"Trouver la paix Gauthier, your death will be avenged." Marc uttered quietly. He turned to Amira and Niklas, his face a mix of grief and rage. "Let's get moving,"

 

 

 

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