As the snake lunges towards Rex, the corgyn slashes with his falchion, like an executioner wielding an axe, and severs the tremendous beast's ugly head. The snake's body begins writhing in death throes as Trin crawls away.
"Sure I can," Isamu replies, drawing his sword, "As long as my blade's not busy with buzzards."
He cuts at the most likely-looking spot he can reach while keeping an eye on the vultures above.
He hears Lottie spitting and hissing. "Get back, witch, you rotten bald-faced graverobber! Let the Styx swallow you and your kin! May there be no—" She drops into the language of cats, and whatever she is saying, it clearly involves a lot of saliva and a lot of bared teeth. The buzzard, for its part, seems mostly puzzled.
Meanwhile, the other buzzard descends on the body in the burial boat.
Trin hurries to Rex and hugs the furry corgyn, in tears. "Rex, are you okay?"
"Buzz off, buzzard!" Isamu snaps, swiping at the vulture on Lottie's barrel with his blade.
Rex huffs at the dead snake and stands ready in case something else had snuck up on them while he fought. Quickly though, the adrenaline leaves his system and Rex staggers. Blood still seeped down his arm from the vicious bite. The loss was making him woozy. "I...I am alive at least. And so are you. That is what is most important." He couldn't lie but he couldn't say how bad the wound was. He fumbles to get his armor off and get the wound bandaged. When offered, he pops on of the cherry drops into his mouth. It tastes awful at first. Then sweet. Then it's gone. Strange.
And it was extremely effective. He didn't even need to keep the bandage on after it had taken effect. The wound was scarred over but unfortunately, no fur grew back. Rex hated bald spots but some warriors of his kind thought the less hair the better.
Trin is plainly very relieved at Rex's condition, aside from his unfortunate bald patches. "What are those?" they ask, staring at the cherry drops. They reach forward and take one without asking.
Yeldrid leans down from the branch, roused from sleep. He hangs down from his knees, surveys the scene, spots the snake, and leaps down towards it as it convulses in its death throes. He seems oddly preoccupied with the corpse until its movements stop.
Seeing things settle, and Rex's wounds tended, Yeldrid looks over the corpse with a keener eye and obvious delight.
"Crikey, she is a beaut! Look at the size of her." Yeldrid picks up the severed head and compares it to his own fist with astonishment.
"She's gonna be good eats, I reckon. And I can make you a necklace from its teeth, Rex. You'll look pretty spiffy with some snake fangs around ya neck. Maybe we can see about the skins too. Bet they'll go for a good price."
Isamu sheathes his sword as the vulture takes off. "Right, let's get going again," he says, then tries to shift and get properly back in the barrel again.
Trin eats the cherry drop and seems to recover slightly. They watch bemusedly as Yeldrid begins sizing up the snake's body. "I hope that wasn't a talking snake."
Isamu doesn't have time to appreciate this, however, as he lands in the water with a splash.
"Hey! Isamu!" He hears Lottie for only an instant before her voice is swallowed up by the roar of the River Styx. And so is he.
Swimming... was not Isamu's strong suit, to say the least. A small part of his mind noted that maybe he should have thought about that before agreeing to get in the river.
The rest of his mind was thinking more along the lines of "AAAAHHHH I'VE FALLEN IN THE RIVER AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SWIM AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"
The panic was hardly helping his non-existent skill.
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To say that Isamu sinks like a stone would be misleading. It is actually very difficult for a kitsune to sink like a stone—animals are naturally buoyant. Isamu struggles initially, yes, and does go a little ways under, but the river is already pulling him back towards the surface when a clawed, skeletal hand snaps around his wrist.
Isamu is pulled beneath the rapids and held fast, even as the Styx furiously tries to drag him onwards. He finds himself staring at a bizarre skeleton, hideously stretched like a spider. Its skull is small and shrunken, and two pale eyes stare at Isamu excitedly. Isamu sees that its legs have locked into the rocky riverbed and are stuck fast.
The creature is massive, and it has a terrible presence that makes Isamu feel sick to his stomach, but there is a strange feeling of frailty to its grip. Brittleness. The river tears and cracks viciously at the monster's bones. Still, it endures.
It raises one bony finger to its nonexistent lips, giving a ghastly grin. The undead monstrosity's jaws start to unhinge, and Isamu sees row after row of sharp teeth emerging in jerky, stop-motion movements as it tries to tug Isamu closer...
Yeldrid successfully salvages the teeth, but isn't able to salvage more than about half the hide. On the other hand, the meat will indeed be good eats.
For just a moment, Isamu has a flash of cold, clear thought. If he didn't do something here, he was going to die. The odd feeling of brittleness in the grip drew his attention. Maybe the joints were weak?
As best he can, he tries to punch its wrist with his other hand.
Isamu focuses, then shifts form, shrinking down to fox size while simultaneously trying to yank his hand/paw out of the skeletal creature's grip while the shape of his limb changes.
Rex waves off the proffered necklace idea. "I'm quite fine thank you." Despite his hesitancy to wear a badass fang necklace, he isn't the slightest bit queasy about snake meat. Meat was meat and his nose twitched towards the smell of something fresh. "Even if it spoke I would have still slain it. What kind of thinking creature attacks a sleeping child? Might have thrown in a smite just to be sure?"
Yeldrid nods and packs the teeth into his belt pouch. He goes to find some sticks to roll the skins onto, and when he returns asks, ”Anyone got any salt? Helps preserve it. Not gonna be a problem though since I’m sure we’ll find someone to give it to once we hit the village in the morning. Just that it might stink if it it gets hot...”
But then his head strikes a rock, and Isamu is gone to the waves.
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He lies upon a large, flat boulder resting against the shore of the roaring, pounding river, and for a moment he feels a sense of panic as he gazes out into the endless expanse and imagines that he has arrived on the far shore. But no; he is still in the Writhing Wood. He just has no idea where he is.
The boulder is fairly flat, and warming in the heat, and Isamu imagines that this is the only reason he hasn't frozen to death, because he really is very, very cold. It is early morning, and he realizes his unconsciousness lasted through the night.
He starts to rise, then stops abruptly, grimacing. His right forepaw feels weak, and hurts when he puts weight on it. Looking down, Isamu realizes why, and he shifts back to human form to see it more clearly.
There is the mark of a large, skeletal handprint on his wrist—almost like a burn. It throbs unpleasantly, though it seems to hurt less the further it gets from the Styx. He stares out at the Styx for another moment, and a strange sense of supernatural fear rushes through him like icewater.
"You been for a swim, stranger?"
Isamu turns. A tall, hulking creature emerges from the woods. They would stand nearly seven feet, but their form is hunched, as if their bulky, muscular build is almost too heavy to bear standing upright. They wear no shirt, just a pair of baggy pants, and a thick coat of dark fur covers them. They have tiny, milk-white eyes and long, curved, needle-like teeth. Perched on each massive shoulder is a gray shorebird with a bronze collar inscribed with what look like pictograms.
The hulking creature grins down at him. "'S not many as can dance with the Styx and come out the right side."
----
In the morning, Trin has mostly recovered , though they are happy to ride on Samson rather than walk.
On this last day of the journey, the forest is oddly quiet. It is beginning to grow less dark, as the trees become less and less thick, but they are no less gnarled or twisted. The path, too, is becoming less strict, with more deviations. The part of the forest where any change in direction means an impromptu meeting with the Stump Wight is behind the party now.
As they walk, they begin to notice signs of prior presence—stakes draped with bones, unused firepits. It starts to get to the point that the party is never not in sight of at least one skull-topped stake, no matter which route they take. They are also traveling closer to the Styx than before, judging by the river's roar.
It is late morning when the party hears a frantic squawk, followed by an Orcish curse. To their right, they see a curious battle taking place: Two burly gangle orcs are currently giving chase to three frantically waddling gray shorebirds, each bearing a bronze collar around its neck.
As the party watches, one gangle manages to bring down its spear, skewering one of the evidently flightless birds. He hisses something in Orcish to his brother.
"Let's just say it was unplanned... and that I never want to do it again," Isamu replies, warily. "I suppose I have you to thank that I didn't freeze to death after washing up out of it?"
Isamu shakes his head slightly. "No, though I stopped by there for a while."
He hesitates a moment. Names were dangerous, but he *had* given his name, so it seemed impolite not to introduce himself. "I'm Isamu, a traveler who got separated from his companions. You, ah, wouldn't happen to have any idea who did help me, would you?"
Yeldrid looks at his companions, grins, and runs towards the kerfuffle. When he rounds the corner, he yells,
"Who helped you?" The hairy fellow scratches his chin. "Well, could be the Styx herself, I s'pose. Sometimes she does favors like 'at, though I've never seen it. Might've been one of the river folk—a passing fisherfellow, or one of the anglers. Or maybe the Styx just wanted you out. Those that drown in her waters don't always make it to a proper rest, and she don't much care for any sort of—"
At that moment, his large tufted ears twitch. He spins, staring off into the forest. His beady milk-white eyes have narrowed to slits. "Hey, did you hear that?"
The orcs whirl, seeing Yeldrid. Their eyes widen in recognition, and they hiss to one another in unmistakable alarm. Their posture is distinctly unfriendly.
Isamu gingerly shakes his head. "No, what was it?" he asks.
He was still wary of the whole situation... but it was a lot better than dying, and this Ragnok didn't seem like a bad sort. But he was in no shape to go charging off on his own just now, that was for certain. He just hoped the others were okay.
Lily frowns, wondering why only two gangles were around with all the orc sign in the vicinity, but quickly shakes away her concerns and moves through the trees to support Yeldrid.
If Rex had any hesitance towards slaying orcs they were dashed thoroughly seeing their camp. Bone covered stakes with the skulls sent a very evil vibe. And some of those skulls weren't just animals. Of that he was sure. He follows right behind Yeldrid and over takes the catfolk, weapon in hand.
Ragnok's ears flatten as he stares into the forest. "It sounded like...like one of my birds!"
Ragnok takes off into the woods, though Isamu notices the massive, hairy fellow has quite a pronounced clubfoot.
Isamu hears a distant shout in Goblin from the same direction Ragnok is limping. He recognizes the voice instantly: It's Yeldrid.
----
Heedless of Lily's approach, the orc in the back tilts his head up and gives a shrill howl. Meanwhile, the other rushes at Rex, but misses the nimble corgyn.
"More are coming. Let's make this quick." Yeldrid steps forward and draws his pistol, aiming at the gangle further back.
Isamu is up and racing towards the shout almost before he is conscious of his own reaction. Somehow, he'd survived to rejoin the others. He just prayed that it wasn't too late...
Rex growled as blade met blade and was deflected away. Hearing Yeldrid's warning, Rex swings hard at the orc in front of him in an attempt to end this quick.
Rex swings at the orc before him, but narrowly fails to cut through the orc's studded leather armor. Meanwhile, a bullet whizzes right by the other gangle's head, causing it to let out a shriek and nearly fall back onto its rear.
Lily bursts from her cover, rushing a gangle to shove her dagger in his face.
"This is how you hunt"
Lily leaps into the air to slice at the orc, who gives a shocked shriek as his ear is cut clean off a the base. Blood gushes out as he covers the side of his head, whirling on the little arachna with a sibilant snarl.
The two surviving birds continue to flee, flapping their wings for speed as gravelly squawks of distress emanate from their throats.
Lily's gangle stabs down with his spear, hissing in anger and pain, heedless of the literal hole in his head. The Ferocity has claimed him now. Meanwhile, the other gangle, still uninjured, sneers and tries to smack Rex with the butt of his spear. "Get lost, puppydog."
Meanwhile, the party heard rustling to the northwest. Sure enough, as Yeldrid said, company is on the way. They also hear the sound of something crashing through the forest from the southeast—a lone figure, it sounds like.
Yeldrid packs more gunpowder and shot into his pistol and takes aim at the same gangle he just shot.
The gun makes a *pfft* sound, and the entire front half falls apart. It begins releasing a pink smoke. Yeldrid packed it with hair dye.
"Nobody panic, but my spare parts are...not on me. Thankfully I have ny kn-"
Yeldrid reaches towards their boot, finds their knife is gone, and realises he gave it to Isamu.
He doesn't have any weapons.
Isamu follows the sounds of combat, drawing his blade as he does.
"We meet again!" he cries as he manuevers to distract the gangle engaged with Lily.
Lily 5-ft steps to flank with Isamu as he appears from out of nowhere. Isamu! You're alive! Lily gets out while she tries to deal with the orc between them, stabbing out at his gut.
As the orc is distracted by Isamu's arrival, Lily darts in and cuts into his gut. The orc staggers, then keels over, a bloody mess.
Rex slashes into the orc's shoulder, eliciting a sybilant scream. The orc's eyes blaze with the frenzy, and he levels his spear at the little corgyn's chest. He isn't laughing now.
The birds continue to flee, and the party hears a shrill, high-pitched scream from where Isamu came.
As Rex's target snarls and slashes wildly—and inaccurately—at Rex, there is a rustling, and three more gangles rush from the woods. One stands directly north of Rex and nocks an arrow to her bow. Another runs to flank him. The third charges at Lily, hissing.
The archer gazes out to the east, and points towards where the party came from. She croaks something in the Orcish tongue.
Isamu rushes over to the side of the nearest gangle, his rapier darting out at his foe.
"Just barely," he replies to Lily. "Talk later."