”I told you we should have shot him the moment we walked into the clearing. Now he’s been allowed to monologue, and there are orcs on the way. Bloody waste of my time. We need to end this. Now.“ Yeldrid points his gun at the creature in goblin skin and fires.
Yeldrid cuts a line in the branches past Bad Cappy’s head, the crack of the gun echoing over the sound of the howls. Yeldrid yowls angrily.
Isamu thought the wolf was dead, so Yeldrid's mention of orcs makes sense even though the calls sound enough like wolves to him.
"I suppose I should have figured out a way to tell you to keep an eye on him earlier without tipping him off, Rex," Isamu says. Instead of drawing his blade, he draws a dagger, which he throws at the false goblin.
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The dagger flies directly towards Cappy's face, right between his eyes. But as it contacts the skin, the steel almost seems to split, peeling itself backwards. The dagger inverts itself until it's pointed right back at Isamu, then falls to the grass. Cappy wags a finger at it. "We and common steel have an understanding."
He straightens, blinking out of sight for a moment, and grins. "I suppose it isn't hardly sporting to just end it now. Besides, three against one sounds like a hero's odds." He reaches down as Yeldrid raises his pistol, feeling along the grass at his feet. "Be seeing you soon!"
With a grunt, the 'goblin' lifts upward, dragging open a small trapdoor in the grass and turf. The trapdoor has a polished grass handle, and the stink of resin fills the clearing.
Yeldrid is about to pull the trigger when Cappy springs down into the darkness, slamming the door behind him. And just like that, the trapdoor is gone again—vanished into thin air.
Isamu draws his blade and cautiously advances, keeping an eye out for more foes as he makes his way towards his fallen dagger. "Anyone have some uncommon metals?"
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Yeldrid pulls out his dagger, inspects it and lets Isamu have a look.
“Some fella thought I was a ‘rakaha’ or something. Told me this would ‘pierce my evil hide’. Exact words, too. Pretty convinced I was some horrible monster, the poor bugger. Wouldn’t listen to reason. Anyway, that’s not steel. It looks like some kind of strange metal I’ve never seen before. It shines too bright. And it wiggles a bit when people cast magic near it. Kinda freaky. Well made though. I use it for gardening.’
"He fooled my nose," Rex says a little disappointed and surprised. "No one has fooled my nose. What?" Rex flinches but does not look away. What being, what creature, what foul abomination could fool a paladin's sight? He doesn't get much of a look as the wolves' howls bring him back to the present. In the time he looks in the noise's direction Cappy is gone, down through a...trap door in the ground? How was that possible.
Either way, the goblin was gone and something was approaching. "I think we should vacate the area. The wolves grow closer and this is not a good place to fight them."
Isamu hesitates a moment before responding to Yeldrid. "I'll use it if you're not going to use it, but it sounds like we've got other things to worry about right now."
He nods at Rex's words. "We do need to get moving. But after recent experience, I think it's best if we stick together as much as we can... so where is Lily?"
Yeldrid nods towards the brush he heard the cries coming from.
"I can smell the trail. She's probably close, out there with the gangles. Knowing her, she's probably fine, but we need to leave. These woods are full of badguys..."
Yeldrid collects Samson and leads him over to Trin. "Samson's riding trained. He'll get you out of here in a hurry if need be. Just gotta yell his name three times. He knows what to do." Yeldrid helps Trin up onto the mule and pops his hat and poncho onto him.
"Maybe they won't recognize him at first. Hopefully..."
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** spoiler omitted **
Sark does a double-take as, rather than face him directly, Lily springs off into the branches. He gives a startled shriek and gives chase. The brachiating orc is swift—swifter, perhaps, than Lily—but her head-start gives her the edge she needs to pull out of eyeshot.
"Lily Shadow!" she hears the gangle shriek as he fades from sight. She just continues to leap and climb, until—
The bird flies off, cackling. "Ooh, the gangles are coming! You're all dead, dead, dead!"
As the group makes its way out of the clearing and eastwards, towards where Lily Shadow went off to, they hear a loud crashing up ahead. A scant second later, the strange arachnid heroine swings into view.
She stops, seeing the party beneath her. Yeldrid walks, devoid of his normal poncho and hat, and a tiny figure wearing those accessories rides upon Samson the mule. This tiny figure looks extremely silly in the oversized clothing.
From the direction of the cave the group originally made camp in, the group hears shrill, orcish screams.
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Lily pauses a moment, trying to think if there's anything in the area to scare off the gangles.
Isamu shifts to fox form and plays sneaky scout, ranging around the party's route of travel, trying to spot trouble without being spotted himself.
Lily recognizes this area, but only vaguely—she's never been here at night before, and everything looks just a little bit off.
Isamu, meanwhile, is quite efficient in his efforts—his littleness gives him a fresh perspective on good hiding spots.
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Yeldrid feels the same oppressive closeness he did when he first entered the forest only a few days ago. The closeness of the trees, looming shadows that could hold hidden dangers.
He once found an old, hollowed structure in the middle of the desert. Pillars of metal and rock jutting out of earth to prop up a strange series of bubbles. The metal had rusted and collapsed in places, and there existed corroded metal objects the size of houses forming a net like canopy of rust, a strange metal forest. He remembered the sound his footfalls made in the sand and rock, each step echoing around him. The place, empty of everything but metal and sound, felt like a trap, waiting for something to listen to the foolish catfolk walking in their noisy den. Some predator who knew the value of silence.
Here the sound was all around him again, but it isn't his own movements that caused it. He realized that the call somewhat gave away to when and where the gangles moved, and that the howls might be the forward hunting party. By moving the group in the direction away from where the howls seem to be starting up, he believes he is putting gradual distance between the gangles and themselves. He keeps the group quiet, no talking, no sound. Knowing each of the calls and direction was important to ensuring the group move carefully. There are a few moments when he believes he had led them straight into the gangles, a call directly where they were going. In those instances, he pulled them into hollow stumps and behind fallen trees, waiting and watching for any movement. When the howls picked up elsewhere, away from them, they would move once more.
He didn't know where he was leading everyone. He just had to hope that it was away from the gangles.
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"Stupid armor," Rex mutters as it squeaks yet again. It sounded even louder than it did with the others moving so quietly. They turn to look at him each time he makes a noise and he looks at them sheepishly in return. He couldn't help it, they knew, but each time they seemed a little more annoyed.They couldn't stop so he couldn't take it off or fix it. He tried to walk along with an exaggerated hoping to prevent rubbing but that just made hi stumble too much which inevitably caused noise. He stuck some fabric in the joint but it wouldn't stay.
And the forest? It was just so...weird. His people lived within the infinite forest of the First World. Usually, none of the ones here looked or felt remotely like the ones at home. Except the Writhing Woods apparently. It was similar. But just different enough to cause some serious Uncanny Valley nervousness. It was distracting.
And then he'd squeak again and start the whole process over again. If nothing else he could stay way in the back and keep an eye out. Or a few feet further behind the back. Then if they were found, hopefully he'd be hit first and the others could circle around to flank. Yes. Think positive.
*Sqeak* "Stupid armor."
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Yeldrid leads the group capably, using the ambiance of the forest to his advantage. They rush through the dark woods. Trin clings to Samson's back, silent but clearly horribly frightened. Every now and then, Yeldrid makes out noises in the treetops up ahead, but Isamu's scouting is enough to keep them from meeting disaster.
But abruptly, the land runs out.
Isamu is barely able to yipe a warning in time to prevent Yeldrid and Samson from careening over the edge of a dark ravine nearly ten feet across. The group freezes, momentarily trapped. They hear the cracking of branches behind them, signaling that the gangle hunters are perhaps not more than twenty seconds behind them.
The tattered remnants of a rope bridge dangle from the other side.
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"The gangles will swing across this in no time." Lily says with concern while looking up at the canopy, "but maybe there's a cave in the cliff face we could use to hide while they pass over us, I'll look for something suitable."
Lily scampers over the edge, all 8 of her eyes sweeping the twin faces of the ravine for a safe place to wait out the gangle tide; unfortunately she doesn't see anything promising
Unfortunately, all Lily finds is an old badger burrow towards the bottom of the ravine.
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Isamu darts back to the other side of the group. If no one else can come up with something soon... he'll just have to try and draw them off.
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Yeldrid looks about, scratches his chin, and pulls out his rope. He whispers to the group "Hide somewhere in the brush. Rex, take one length of this rope and go over there. Lily, tie it down over there. I'll cling on the edge and call them over. When they come towards us, pull the rope taut. They'll go right over the edge."
"fufufu" Lily lets out a decidedly unlady-like chuckle, her fangs rattling against each other in an eerie cadence, she blushes "Sorry, yes; let's do that."
Isamu's ears twitch slightly as Yeldrid proposes a plan. He saw one problem with it--what if they saw Rex? His fellow canine-oid was scarcely the most... proficient at hiding.
And so Isamu does his best to conceal himself in fox form, hoping he won't need to leap out and flank the oncoming gangles but suspecting he would.
"I think you are over-estimating my ability to hide but okay." Rex takes the rope and does his best to pretend to be a rock.
But seriously, whoever heard of an orange, hairy rock? One with ears and a tail that refused to cooperate.
If no one proposes a good plan, Isamu will probably try to lead them off by running back and yipping at them, then using the fact he's in fox form to try to stay ahead of them. This will likely get him hopelessly lost, but he *is* the sort who's self-sacrificing like that.
Seeing the hesitation in his friends, and knowing they have no time, Isamu turns without thinking and runs back towards the oncoming gangles. He shifts into his true form as he runs, then stops when he sees one of them.
As soon as he thinks they've seen him, he shifts again, back to fox form, and sprints off to the side, trying to lead them to the side and slightly away from the ravine. He prays silently to Ysidar that the others will be able to make it out... he asks nothing for himself.
Isamu takes off without a word. Trin's eyes widen, and they try to jump off and run after the kitsune with a wordless cry.
Heart pounding, Isamu slips through the underbrush, making sure to give the gangles some hints of his presence for a while, then trying to disappear and double back.
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"Time to go. I hope you can run fast, Isamu..."
Yeldrid keeps up with the same path, following along the ravine. He wonders what happened to the bridge, whether it was the gangles or some other insidious being. Maybe something he should let the guild know about it...
The catfolk constantly looks out towards the forest, hoping to catch a glimpse of a small fox or the gnarled forms of pursuing gangles. And yet, the night grows more and more silent as he leads the group away from hunting pack. Enough that, finally, Yeldrid can hear the sounds of night birds, night bugs flit around his ears, and he can no longer smell the trails of the orcs in the trees.
Home free. For most of them. After a night like this, Yeldrid regrets having not purchased some catsmoke in Barlily. Would help to calm the nerves...
Isamu darts beneath thornbushes and around vast, gnarled thickets, but the gangles keep pace—barely. He bounds over roots, springs over shallow streams, and finally, desperate to escape, takes a risk—he slips inside an abandoned badger's den.
It is dark in the den, and even the keen-eyed Isamu can barely see before his own snout. He squeezes just out of sight of the entrance, and waits.
There is a long silence.
Several pairs of heavy feet thud into the ground above his head.
The gangles converse in the orc tongue. Isamu can't understand it, but the meaning is clear. They know he's down there. And they're trying to decide how to get him out.
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Isamu pants, worn out by his long run. He hears the gangles above him, but no fear enters his heart. They had followed him, not the others. That was enough. That had to be enough.
I pray that this sacrifice is enough, Ysidar, he thinks within his heart, his thoughts still fixed on his companions, especially the innocent Trin. Please watch over their path, that it may lead them out of this dark place and into light.
He had few choices here. He checks quickly for other exits, then tries to gauge the strength of the ceiling. He'd probably led them far enough away, but every second he could keep them occupied was another the others had to get free. If he took on his true form and it burst through the ceiling, that might surprise them enough for him to start running again, to lead them further away...
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Rex looks torn. Torn between chasing after Isamu to support his mad distraction and continuing on to protect Trin should any of them not fall for the fox-man's stunt. He watches Isamu run off into the forest to distract the gangles and wonders why he didn't do it himself. He was the paladin. He was supposed to be the noble knight, defender of the weak, the good, and his friends. And he had failed to do that all because he hadn't reacted fast enough. He cursed his slow wit but respects Isamu's sacrifice. He'd continue to protect the others.
"We know you are down there, little orange dog. Old Wolf wants you alive when he eats you. Come out, and live few hours longer, or stay in there, and die the Old Death."
A brief argument starts up there. Isamu doesn't understand the words, but the orc who argues sounds almost shocked. But they seem to be quelled by the first speaker's retort.
It sounds like there are at least four gangles up above.
The party—now one member short—makes its way through the night, startled by every howl and bird whistle. But they do not see any more gangles. Through Yeldrid's efforts, and Isamu's sacrifice, they have lost the orcs. For now.
The morning arrives bright and cheery, and once again the party is in a merry part of the Writhing Wood—as the twisted forest goes, anyways. There has been no sign of Isamu, and Trin was tearful and quiet as they trudged along the path (they're now sleeping atop the mule). Yeldrid knows that the group is now over two-thirds of the way through the forest. If they continue at a standard pace, with no more late-night sprints, they should reach the edge of the forest in less than two days' time!
"That's not..." Lily lets her sentence trail off unsaid as Isamu rushes off into the darkness. 'ooh.' The flashy red tuft on her head deflates, and she seems to sag a moment as she realizes what is happening.
After a silent reflection she blinks, and picks herself up; We need to keep going while the gangles are distracted. Give me that rope, and I'll take an end over to the other side; we'll tie each end to a tree and keep moving. Once you're all across I'll untie it on the other side, and make it look like we ran down the ravine a ways. Don't worry; I'll catch back up.
If we get lost, meet back up at....
They had to be there, watching... but Isamu was not going to go quietly. Silently he tenses, then springs from the den as fast as he can, hoping to surprise them and run past them.
The night before, Lily was the one who found a way over the chasm while Isamu tried to lead their pursuers away.
Isamu scampers between a bowlegged orc's ankles. The orcs let out started shrieks and hisses as the fox races by, whirling too slow to stop him from reaching the edge of the clearing. One of them raises a bow, while the rest run after him with nets.
Somehow, impossibly, Isamu darts between the gangles and into the underbrush in a flash.
The next morning, Rex paces along the path they had just come. Constantly sniffing, one ear always perked up for any sound of pursuit...or the timely arrival of their companion. "This isn't right. It's taking too long. Where is he?" he mubles mostly to himself. By the time the others are ready, the grass on either side of the trail is ground down.
"We have to go back. We can't leave him behind," he says abruptly.