Myth: Flight from the Forest

[The Scribe of Ages]

Chapter One: The Beginning

Chapter Two: Flight from the Forest

Our story began in Bai-Ulgan, the proudest city of Men. Though the hands of the greatest Earth shaman's who ever lived carved its mighty walls, even they could not defend against the darkness swift-approaching the people of Dalriada. What once had been a distant threat, far beyond their understanding, was soon to reach their doorsteps – its coming heralded by the arrival of a swarthy stranger from the south. With him, he brought grim tidings, of a catastrophe that – unattended – would turn all Asga to ruin. But alas, his warning was too late...

Strange shadows flooded the streets of Bai-Ulgan, leaving even the most sturdy of Dalriadan guardsman bloodless and breathless in their wake. The manes could be destroyed by nothing other than the righteous flame the stranger commanded, but he alone was no match for the dark legion. To end this foe, he and the seer were forced to flee the city – abandoning it to fates uncertain – in search of the true source of corruption, acquiring along the way an unexpected travelling companion in the form of a young Fian carpenter.

Following the banks of the river Megingjord, they rode south to the ancient Steelwood, where they would find not only a place of great magical – and worldly – importance, but also new allies and enemies. Already one of their number – the Glaucan pirate, Calder Aquasis – has been claimed.

Now, only four remain:

Blind Molly, sightless seer to the Lords of Bai-Ulgan.

Calleh Ben-Sudr Al-Fard, scholar and sorcerer of Ankaarizad.

Parsideon Denix, stalwart soldier of the Necian League.

Cailean Macgabhann, carpenter and kinsman to the ancient Fian.

And it is thus that we find our heroes – in the Sacred Circle of Steelwood, surrounded and outnumbered by the newly risen dead...

[Parsideon Denix]

Still somewhat in a daze from the cacophony of the dying seed, Denix could only watch as his Gorrath, and Calder, fled the field in terror as the armored columns of dead began to rise. It seemed that what little hope he had at redemption was now finally lost.

Now, what did it matter if he lived or died?

"Is this my fate here, then?"

He looked at the motley assortment of strangers before him. Who were they? What was their business, happening upon the Steelwood at the instance he did?

Inwardly, he thought of falling on his sword, here and now. The Gods had found cruel pleasure in his undoing, so what would be done by following along some sad whim from above?

He watched the field of undead grow and swell, and in spite of everything around him, he began to laugh.

[Calleh]

Calleh was stunned - by Moreth's disappearance, by the waking of the dead, by the strange providence that had put him and his companions here in this defiled place. He murmured a feverish prayer in his native tongue as he looked around them for any possible escape.

And then he heard Denix laugh. And he turned toward him with a look of incredulity.

"Are you mad, Necian? The Lady Molly and Master Macgabhann are not accustomed to battle! Come, we must defend them!"

He drew his swords and held them ready.

"Molly, we must carve a path and run. Which is the shortest way out of the Circle?"

He hoped his sense of direction had not failed him. The uniformness of the Circle was disorienting.

[Blind Molly]

She laughed without mirth. "The shortest way out of the Circle?" The soaking wet seer pointed behind her, the opposite way than what they had used to enter the Steelwood. "That way. Further south. We traveled through the thickest part of the forest already."

Molly pulled her dagger from her belt, the six inch blade woefully inadequate to the task ahead of them. "I may be able to clear a path..." Her torn dress clung wetly to her body as the wind whipped up around her.

[Cailean MacGabhann]

Not accustomed to battle? Cailean was not accustomed to any of this! Torn from his simple life and tossed upon the merciless tides of fate, the cold hand of fear now had a firm hold on his heart. Whilst his allies armed themselves, the young Fian tried to take account of what he could offer to the party to aide in their escape – but it was hopeless!

His affinity with the earth and wood magics was limited at best, and he had no weapon to speak of. Molly was blind, but she was no les formidable for it, whilst the two soldiers seemed prepared to face whatever was thrown at them. In his limited talent, the best Cailean felt he could hope for was to sacrifice himself, so that the others might live – if he did not die now, then he felt he surely would soon. Each step took them further from Bai-Ulgan and further from safety.

“South? To where?!”

[Parsideon Denix]

"To Hell."

The Necian looked at the Fian with a glib expression.

"All roads from this desolation lead there."

Sheathing his sword, Denix walked purposefully over to the spot where his scytus was affixed into the ground. He gave a tug, prying it out, and snapped the spear back into its compact form with his metal affinity skill. The shortened missile was returned to his belt, and he drew his blade again, stepping forward against the mass of dead, which seemed repulsed somehow by the perimeter of the circle. Denix walked toward the circle's periphery with an eerie sense of calm, watching the undead gnash and hurl themselves at an invisible barrier. With a sudden burst of light, he spat an intense jet of flame from his lips at one, which burst into a corona of bright yellow. The undead warrior writhed, its bones became brittle, and then crumbled under the fiery onslaught, tumbling to the ground in a messy rain of embers, bone dust, and armor. That was easy enough, but there were thousands of enemies to contend with.

The Captain drew his sword, the steel singing as the teardrop edge cleared the brass lip of his scabbard.

[Calleh]

Calleh stood ready to hurl himself at the mass of the dead, but then he felt the wind stirring through the circle at Molly's command.

"We cannot defeat them one at a time," he murmured, "and this place is throbbing with magic..."

And then inspiration struck him like a thunderbolt.

"Molly," he said urgently, "do you know anything of combined magics? Such as the alliance of fire and wind?"

He raised his swords above his head, crossed, and drew them apart. As he did, an arc of fire appeared in the air between the blades, guttering at first, but quickening in the wind.

"Let us call down a firestorm upon these devils."

[Blind Molly]

She heard the despair in Cailean's voice, and the madness in the Necian's. Thankfully Calleh seemed to have some sort of plan, and Molly took Cailean's arm to steady herself.

"Burn the Steelwood?" The seer hesitated, the wind dying down. But of course, it was probably the only way. And they wouldn't have to burn the whole forest. Just enough. "I am with you Calleh. But if the fire does not stop them..."

"We do not have time to find out." Calleh said firmly. Denix's attack on the undead warrior had broken some sort of unseen barrier, and the creatures were beginning to walk into the Circle. Molly could not see it, but she felt the tension in Cailean's arm, and the Necian returned to their little party, the heat of his flames combined with Calleh's warm on her skin.

"You must keep my path true to Calleh's," she said to the Fian, her voice calm. Then she called up the wind, sent it whirling between the blades of the warrior scholar from Ankaa, and the fire spun up into a great tower of flames.

"I can direct it in front of you, Calleh!" she cried over the roar of the flames, "But my skills are not so great as others in this area!"

[Cailean MacGabhann]

If Molly needed something to keep her steady, Cailean would be her rock – he was as rigid as one, after all, at the sight of the dead staggering towards them. Again, he felt the heat of fire on his skin and squinted, turning his eyes away from it and soon finding his gaze upon one of the undead. One of them had stumbled forwards, ahead of the narrowing circle, as looked as if it was about to throw itself upon Cailean and Molly. In a flash of panic, the Earth-magic came to Cailean against and with a kick to the ground, he sent a hefty chunk of dry-earth crashing into the creatures fragile torso – separating the top half from the bottom!

[Parsideon Denix]

Without a substantial talent in the affinities compared to the Ankaaran and Dalriadan, Denix busied himself with buying them time. He pressed into the mass of the undead with a powerful smash of his shield, sprawling half a dozen against each other as they fell to the ground. He incinerated them as he brought his blade around in a wide swath, shattering the skull of one dead warrior and following through to sever another at the spine. He had no illusions about his successes, for if the scheme of the others did not work, his resistance would be quite brief.

[Calleh]

The whirlwind that Molly had conjured beat the flames to blast-furnace intensity. They spread in a dome over the travelers, roiling, raging, white-hot and too bright to look at, and at their epicenter stood Calleh ben-Sudr al-Fard, his arms raised as if in sacrificial devotion, his eyes closed and his face serene as he mouthed an eloquent prayer in his native tongue. He could feel the burning of his own soul in those flames, burning not for destruction but for purification; his soul itself was a flame, and it leapt and danced for joy among its burning brethren with all the abandon of self-immolation.

Then he opened his eyes to take in the undead horde breaching the southern edge of the Circle, and he knew it was time for them to taste the righteous fury of the Ankaarim.

"Molly," he said with a steady voice, "now!"

He felt the wind shift from a whirlwind to a hurricane blast, a thundering gale sweeping over the skeletal warriors. At once he commanded the flames to leap into the empty spaces left by the moving air.

The dome of flame moved like lightning, like dragon's breath, cascading through the army of the dead in a rolling surge. What trees were caught in the path of the firestorm withered and collapsed almost instantly, turned to charcoal so fast there was little chance of igniting their neighbors.

When the flames had dissipated, they left behind a scar across the forest, wide enough for two chariots and long enough for a footrace, with only smoldering husks of timber and half-melted armaments standing above an uneven carpet of smoking white ash.

The undead continued to advance with mindless perseverence; it seemed for a moment they had not even noticed that a whole column of them had been carved away. But gradually they began to fill in the gap to cut off the four companions' escape.

Calleh had fallen to his knees, shaken by the exertion, but he knew he had little time to recover. "We must move now!" he gasped. "Before they begin to close in..."

By chance he found himself kneeling near the corrupted root that Moreth had dropped. On a whim, he seized it from the ground and thrust it through his belt.

[Blind Molly]

Reaching the end of her Air ability, Molly felt exhausted and dry. The flames had licked up and evaporated the water she'd soaked her clothes in. With effort she staggered forward, Cailean leading her as the group ran through the ash of the burnt cedars.

[Parsideon Denix]

"Follow me!"

Denix, fresh from his exertions, pushed onward on point, leading the way with shield and spear denying the enemy. He charged forward, tethered to the group by their exhaustion, not daring to overextend his forward momentum. His short sword, glowing with an angry yellow flame, severed bone in sweeping strokes, leaving sparking embers and fragments as testaments to enemies now twice slain.

"If you don't want to die, rally on me at once!"

[Mandan Hidatsa]

Music rang out across the forest, a stark contrast to the sounds of struggle and battle that had washed through the trees mere moments before. As if responding to the gentle sounds of the flute, the wind began to dance, swirling slowly at first, and then more angrily as it swarmed towards the undead. Ash rose from the ground and swirled at their ankles, as an invisible wall of force pushed them back, parting the sea of undead. The path was narrow, but the source of the music could already see a sword beginning to drive it wider apart.

The flute music ended, and the sounds of the battle returned full force to his ears, but the musician was not yet done. A sharp trilled whistle like a bird call escaped his lips as he loosed an arrow from his bow, Air magic holding the projectile aloft as it shot towards the abominant swarm. More followed, most of their number burying themselves deep into the skulls of the resurrected mass, dropping them to the floor.

The musician paced forwards, arrows still firing as he advanced, shots widening the path to freedom from his side. "Hurry!" he called, as his bow dropped, the figures escaping from the circle so large in his vision that he could not risk another volley for fear of striking them in error.

[Blind Molly]

Molly ran behind Cailean as the young Fian ducked and darted to the side, avoiding a lumbering skeleton as it swung a rusted sword at them. Music filled the air, and the water mage frowned as the air rushed against them as if in response to the music.

She could hear the cries and sounds of battle as Calleh protected the rear of the fleeing party, and the Necian fought through the crowding dead in front. And then, they were moving again, ash from the ground kicked up and choking her. It was so dry...

Cailean shouted, and from her grip on his arm it appeared he was pointing ahead. Something about a path. The wind whipped up the ash, shoving the dead aside as the tiny party dashed forward. Molly stumbled, twisting her ankle badly on a gnarled root.

[Ediremos]

Swathing through the ranks of the risen dead, a shadow in a dark cloak with bright white hair appeared, a finely crafted weapon held in hand. With each slice of the razor-sharp blade an enemy would fall, cleanly severed by the magical weapon edge. With a final twist, rotating in a complete circle, the weapon extended to form a spear, the figure stabbing forward to impale a skeleton through the front of its skull and tearing the head clear off the spine, before it retracted into something more akin to a short sword.

“Use my arm for support,” The new arrival said, his voice barely heard over he sound of battle, as he reached out to grasp the young woman who stumbled, catching her weight before she fell to the ground. “I am Ediremos, and I am a friend...”

The Syldar turned his golden eyes toward the ranger that had cleared the immediate path, giving a nod. It seemed the pair had arrived just in time, having witnessed the group falling into trouble from afar.

“Come, the path is clear,” Ediremos bade, slashing with his weapon at those enemies unfortunate enough to come too close, keeping the side of the group clear for the most part. “Be prepared to run once we are through their ranks, then make for the copse of trees directly ahead. There we will find a rope leading up the side of a small cliff face that leads into the higher tier of forest... it will allow us a moments rest, at least.”

Both Mandan and Ediremos had set camp on top of that hill, and it had been from there that they had seen the group in distress. Once they arrived at the rope, they could all climb and then sever it to stop the advance of the dead enemy that pursued them. Then, from there, only fate knew...

[Calleh]

Calleh's Damascus-steel blades glowed with fiery runes as he struck a skeletal foe through the jawbone and down through the ribcage; his backstroke severed its spine, and he kicked the stumbling legs to the ground. And then he heard Molly cry out, and he whirled around to help her.

But someone else was there, a pale man with lank, white hair and a weapon whose like he'd never seen before, and there was also a fair young man with a bow. He didn't know where they had come from, but he knew his strength was failing, and there would be time for questions later.

He stumbled on after the others, close behind the pale stranger. He appreciated the help, but he wasn't going to take his eyes off him while he held Molly.

"We will follow you," he gasped, "but first--"

He was cut off by an equine scream - not of terror, but of rage. At the far end of the burnt swath of forest where the ranks of the undead were thin, Kuhaylah came crashing out of the brush, nostrils wide and mane flying. She reared up and struck down a pair of undead with her hooves, then pranced forward and trampled them to pieces. She was more like a lion in battle than a horse, terrible and fearless.

"Kuhaylah!" Calleh cried. "We must get Molly to her! She can meet us on your clifftop!"

[Mandan Hidatsa]

Mandan had no clue who this 'Molly' was, but a quick inventory of the party revealed only one logical candidate. The woman - blind, if her reactions to the events around her were anything to go by - was being steadied by Ediremos. Judging by the manner in which the twin-sworded, dark-haired and bearded man followed behind her, she had sufficient protection for now.

His attention shifted to the fair haired man who, by his clothes and choice of weapon, was a soldier of Necia. Mandan took some small comfort from that: while not a citizen, he had served with their soldiers in the past, and knew from experience how formidable they could be.

Loosing the arrow knocked to his bow at one of the nearest of the undead hoarde, he slung his bow over his shoulders, hand dropping to his waist and pulling free the Necian shortsword that he carried for situations such as this. Advancing on the undead line, he swung his blade towards them, widening the gap that he and Eridamos had carved still further. As he made it through the crowd towards the group, he fell into step beside the Necian, the left-handed grip of Mandan's sword mirroring the soldier's as they led the way free.

"A little far from Necia, are you not, sir?" he offered by way of greeting, as his sword smashed its way through the collar bone of another undead.

[Blind Molly]

Molly cursed loudly, and flinched as someone grasped her arm and caught her before she fell completely. “Use my arm for support,” The new arrival said, his voice barely heard over the sound of battle. “I am Ediremos, and I am a friend..."A Syldar? That was the impression she got from the voice and the touch of her 'savior,' but Molly did not have a chance to process it just yet. If he was planning on murdering her, he would have done it already, and if he was planning on returning her to Bai Ulgan, then there would be time later to convince him of the folly of that decision. She leaned into him, limping painfully as he pulled her forward.

Calleh was shouting something about his damned horse, but the confusion surrounding her was overwhelming her ears. She concentrated instead on calling the wind, trying to blow the skeletal army away from them as the group dashed forward.