Weredigo, Undead Wendigo (Closed)

“I honestly don’t think you know what your getting into here Lan...” Rosa’s voice was heavy with concern as the Pixie continued to flutter beside Lancaster. Shadows from the dense trees were covering most of the ground. The silence was daunting as every creature existing within the forest moved with the stealth and patience of an owl, silently gliding through the night skies.

“Rose, I already told you this, we have no money.” Lancaster reached for the gold pouch which was incredibly light for someone who was supposed to be a mercenary making money off of clients. “We both agreed that the elves of Raiaera have been paying people like me to offer their services in the war with Xem'zûnd.” Shaking his head, the young mercenary gave up arguing with the little pixie he called his friend. If anything, their voices would give their location away before they could even find the villa of the leader of the elves.

Pausing, Lancaster knelt down and focused on a particular indent in the ground. It looked to be made by something around the same weight as an above average human. There was no definition in the foot print so it could potentially have been left by a large animal. Either way, what ever left the mark was moving with extreme stealth and did not want anyone tracking it. Running his hand over the mark, Lancaster erased its existence from the forest floor. Perhaps it was foolhardy, but the only tracks he wanted on the forest floor was his own, if he couldn’t find the villa the elves would eventually find him.

“Despite the fact that these elves are willing to pay for your help. What makes you think they won’t stick an arrow in your neck before you even know they’re there? Don’t forget, this is not Concordia anymore, we are on their terf.” Anxiety filled the little pixies voice as her wings fluttered making the only sound within the forest, her eyes darting from one moving shadow to the next.

Lancaster sighed as he stood back up giving up on the tracks which he had deemed to belong to a rather large wolf. “I realize they may kill me before I get to see them, but they may also be the clients that rid us of all our gold issues. Does that not sound good?” Facing Rosa, Lancaster reached out and held the small pixie in his hand. Looking down at her small, worried face he smiled. “And despite what you think. I would never let anything happen to you.”

Just as the words slipped past his lips Lancaster heard a snap from somewhere behind them. Sweeping Rosa into his jacket pocket, he pulled his bow from his back and quickly notched an arrow. He would not stand a chance against the elves of Raiaera with a sword. They would have him filled with arrows before he even got close enough to land a blow. Slipping a few steps back, Lancaster knelt beside a tree using it to support his weight while he kept the bow trained on the area where he had heard the snapping of dry branches. What ever had made that noise was close, to close.

Sweat began to pool on the young man’s brow as he tried to keep his heart rate normal. Heart pounding and adrenaline flowing, the thought of this being his last breath constantly crossed his mind. For all he knew the elf was lining up its shot and he would soon feel the darkness of death. This was a stupid idea. What made him think he could track down a group of elves who were at war and clearly did not want to be found. Money was what got him here, yet no amount of money seemed enough to Lancaster right now as he lowered his bow and placed the arrow back in his quiver. The worst thing he could do was seem hostile, at this point his life was now in the hands of another. Assuming the noise was an elf and not some oversized beast waiting for its next meal.

Stepping out from behind the tree, Lancaster kept his hand on the hilt of his sword just in case. “Elves of Raiaera, if that is you I sense outside the vision of a normal human let me be clear.” Pausing to gather his courage and to make sure his voice remained confident and calm. “I mean you no harm and would simply wish to speak to the elf named Findelfin.” Closing his eyes and trusting his ears, Lancaster prayed this would not be his last dying seconds.

Findelfin was ready to be home.

They had left a week ago, on a training mission into the low, hilly region just to the northeast of Esgalost. He had left with five newer recruits, refugees from Trenycë. They had managed to withstand the devastation of that city by the undead, and had been apprehended in the forest near Esgalost a few months ago. They had agreed readily to take training and join with Findelfin, and he was in no position to turn down able-bodied help. But now, for their first field mission, he was wishing he had relied less on his own abilities and brought a few more seasoned warriors.

Their mission had turned sour. It had been more or less standard scouting work. Rumors were flying from the elvish settlements north of the villa that something was savaging forest animals; deer were turning up mutilated, and the settlers were beginning to worry; their villages were not well defended. It had sounded like a mere zombie, something that a quick foray with a few green soldiers would cure. It was beginning to look like something else entirely.

For now Findelfin had only three of the scouts he had left with. They had been hunting for days and had not found anything, following a trail of corpses, wolves and deer, that had been split open, decapitated, and had their legs and eyes chewed off. The corpses had been fairly far apart however, which seemed to Findelfin to indicate a more exotic provenance than some straggler from Xem'zûnd's army that had managed to slip through the watchers unawares; it moved too quickly to be something so simple. Whatever they were tracking left precious few other tracks, even to Findelfin's eyes, which was already ominous...plain zombies would have left a trail of broken branches and crushed leaves even an untrained tracker could follow. But it was when they came across the corpse of a huge bear, its forelegs torn off and driven through the base of its skull, that Findelfin decided to turn back and come again with more significant firepower. Not even a battle troop of zombies could have done that to a bear.

That had been two days ago, and he had been commanding five elves then. But on the first night, he had sent two of them off to check the land and keep a watch on the camp. The mist had been thick, and he had told them to stay close and not to get separated. He awoke to hear screams, and before he could buckle on his sword belt one of the elves had stumbled into the campsite, dazed, body rent with slash marks, her tongue torn from her mouth. They had done what they could, but the young woman had died within the hour.

They were now only one day's march from Esgalost, the night had passed its peak. But, ominously, the mist had returned. It was a thick cloud that seemed to penetrate everything, and while it was not so thick that nothing could be seen, it was thick enough to make Findelfin worry about what it might portend. He knew the rumors, he had heard the legend of the Heruhith, the Lord of the Mists who had been slain in ages past. But in these times, what was slain tended to walk again. And so as the mists returned, Findelfin wondered if it heralded more than just dew in the air.

It reminded Findelfin of the mists the morning he took the field against Xem'zûnd for the last time. The difference, then, was the heart of his soldiers. Then his troops had eaten well and merrily, then they had been eager to take the field, then they had expected that the fall of Carnelost had been a matter of surprise, that they would be ready. They had needed little succour, then. But now his two remaining troops huddled by the fire, their eyes dull, their bodies said they were scared. And they probably had little faith in him, who had already seen two of his charges perish on his watch.

Suddenly, Findelfin heard a snap of branches. The other three heard it as well, it came from not far off among the trees, but not close, either. Findelfin made the signs and the recruits immediately smothered the fire with dirt and wet leaves, two drawing bow and the third drawing two short blades. Findelfin drew his sword as well; this was no time for caution. The mist seemed to melt away from the lightly glowing surface of Ainalindil. Curious, thought Findelfin for a moment, before stepping forward with caution. Ainalindil's magic did not usually impact the weather.

As they approached the place where the twig snapped, Findelfin made a few more hand gestures and the two elves with bows slung themselves upon low-hanging boughs, disappearing into the trees, while the other came forward to stand just behind him, her hands clutching her sword nervously. Findelfin had personally seen to it that she knew how to use her weapon before they left, but he had no idea how she would perform under such conditions...even the best swordsman did not always bear up under the fierce onslaught of terror and uncertainty. The worst weapons were always in the mind.

Then Findelfin heard a voice, calling through the trees. He paused, and listened. It was not the voice of something dangerous, but, tellingly, it seemed to address itself towards the area where the snapping of the twig had come from. This signaled to Findelfin that, while he may have found another soul in the forest, he had yet to uncover what had made that sound. He decided to go no further, but instead answered the voice from where he stood. He focused his mind, and broadcast a statement. It would be audible only to the one who spoke, and to his own troops, so they would not be unsure of what was going on. But it would have the added benefit of not alerting whatever it was that stalked the forest, especially if whatever it was had been attempting to use suspicious sounds as a trap for the unwary.

As he broadcast his thoughts, he gestured to one of the elves above him in the tree tops, and the elf sped off towards the location of the voice, moving as swiftly and silently as the treetops allowed.

Whoever it is who walks under the deep shadows of Daer Taurë, know that you have found Findelfin. Know also that you are in grave danger. There is something abroad in these woods that wants to hurts all life within it. I am sending a messenger to you, do not be alarmed, he will tell you what to do. We need to march now, before daylight comes, or some of us may not make it out alive.

Gripping Ainalindil tight, he waited. The elf in the treetops would lead the young man back here, and perhaps they would evade the trap.

The Little Shadowmancer stood perfectly still as the broken twig push up into his foot. An idle thought in his mind jumped into life and curse his carelessness. Several more jumped to attention, proclaiming the thick fog as the cause. The youth silenced them all and listened. The voice of the man, and the psychic projection of the other were cause for alarm. The only other person Talen knew who could communicate in such a way was the powerful Sei Orlouge, and if the trend continued, then the youth needed to be cautious.

Talen had been tracking the beast through the forest for a little over a week. His journey far from his current home in Radsanath caused by a vision from the Spider Queen, N'Jal. The avatar of the god had told the new initiate that there was a beast with power he could make his own in the forest. The boy had set out the next day and had been tracking since. Although he lacked the skills to follow the beast, he had been drawn to it. The dark power that infused the beast had acted like a beacon for the youth as he travelled through the forest. The same power now surrounded him nearly as densely as the fog.

“Lets everyone take a deep breath and lower whatever weapons we may be pointing at the little kid through the fog.”

Talen was an expert at using his age to his advantage. It could be anything from playing the street urchin, feigning youthful ignorance or climbing through small spaces, Talen had done it all. It was one of the reason's he was successful within the Ixian Knights, if you wanted to know it, he could find it out. Things though had recently become strained within the Knights. The attack on their stronghold and Talen's recent religious conversion had left him feeling the outcast. This had led to the youth experimenting with the dark powers that had been given to him by N'Jal's Primas Lorenor before he had time to properly adjusted to them, and the resulting increase in power had been matched with an eroding psyche.

Talen walked forward towards the group of elves with his hands held up to show he held no weapons. In actuality he was covered with them. Under his thick black cloak on his right side were his twin blades, his gauntlet hung from his left and his pockets full of other useful tools. The boy stepped over a protruding root as the elves came into sight.

“Greetings tree dwellers! Quite the spot of fog we have tonight.”

The youth's broad smile slid from his face as he stared past one of the elves. His blue eyes grew wide as his mind pushed against the reality they saw. Findelfin followed his gaze and both saw the creature emerge from the fog. In a lightning motion the beast grabbed the arms of oblivious elf and lifted him into the air. Although he struggled he could do little as the beast's claws tore easily through his flesh and kept the man's arms stretched wide.

The elves Findelfin had sent out returned with the sounds of their brother crying out with pain. They moved towards their leader and the beast, but stopped as Findelfin's arm lifted out to the side. A look of horror past over their faces as their leader was apparently letting the beast kill one of their comrades, but Talen knew differently.

“He's dead already. When does a predator let you see it? When it wants you to.” Talen's voice was calm, but edged with excitement. A savage intellect, raw power and people to act as ubiquitous meat shields; the youth loved the situation he found himself in.

The beast moved the elf it was using as a shield closer to its face and smiled. Rows of yellow teeth dripped with putrid saliva as it watched for any movement from the group. The smell of festering flesh was unmistakeable and the half-rotten skin on its arms exposed bone and muscle below. One arm however was a dark metal, pulsating with a black aura. Talen's eyes were drawn to it and he smiled. The elf in the beasts hands resorted to screaming insults, crying desperately to get the creature to react. The action came, as it opened its mouth and bit down through the elf's neck and shoulder. A sickening crunch sounded as its teeth tore through bone and flesh. The elf's cries ended with a dull wheeze of air as the beast tore a hole out of its prey's torso. Satisfied, the beast lobbed the limp body towards them and leapt backwards to be swallowed by the fog. Through the mist there was a crash of broken branches and then silence.

“So should we introduce ourselves? My name is Talen, and I am a Taurus. I love long walks through the forest and hunting undead beasts. Now its your turn.”

Talen pointed at one of the elves crouched over his fallen brother.

Azrael had an annoyed frowned as he carefully shoved away a tree branch that was in his path. The forest was enveloped in a thick fog—a strange fog that seemed to come and go. To the swordsman, an even stranger trait that the fog had was that it seemed to leave a trail of corpses in its wake. Mangled and bloody, Azrael knew that no humane creature could be the source of all of this. The corpses often had elongated gashes on them; something which Azrael knew meant that there was a chance he was on the right track.

It was now the second day that he explored the woods, tracking down whatever creature was responsible for the corpses. If he was correct, it was possible that the creature was holding a very valuable item which he has now dedicated months trying to find—a metal arm that could grant enormous power to its holder. It had several other uses to it, and one of its particular uses would be of great use to his leader’s cause, Cassandra Remi. He wasn’t quite informed about what distinctive use it had for his leader, but he didn’t ask questions. All he was given was the description of the item, and news that it was rumoured to be owned by a powerful man in Raiaera. For his leader, he was doing what he could to get hold of the arm.

When he arrived in the country and after months of searching, he found out that the man had long been gone—massacred in the great forest. Before all hope was completely lost, Azrael also discovered that a mysterious creature now lived in the forest, leaving behind mutilated corpses that could have possibly been done by the item he was searching for.

The day before, he had passed by the corpse of an elf. Judging by the stench, he guessed the body had been dead for several days already. There seemed to be not much life in the forest. Accompanied with the thick fog and the dead silence, he was ready to come to the conclusion that he would never find the creature, or even another living person. Much to his luck though, the corpses were becoming more numerous, which meant he was getting closer.

Another tree branch blocked his way, and he pushed it aside with an exasperated sigh. Since the fog was oddly thick again, he couldn’t see much. He was just about to sit down on an enormous boulder in hopes of getting some rest, when a loud cry resounded through the woods. Azrael’s eyes widened—he hadn’t even realized that other people were near his vicinity. Quickly, he ran towards the voice, focusing on avoiding all the obstacles in his way. He could see figures in the distance, speaking in voices he couldn’t understand. He could see that there seemed to be a fallen body on the ground.

As he ran, a beast suddenly appeared before him, and he couldn’t stop his momentum in time. The creature was fast and could see him approaching, and it threw its arm out at Azrael, causing Azrael to loudly yell in pain and surprise and hit a tree with his back. His yell was probably heard by the people in the clearing. Azrael ignored the sting in his back and looked at the creature squarely.

The swordsman saw the blood oozing from its mouth. He could smell the stench of rotting flesh. The creature growled at him, baring his massive teeth. Most of all, Azrael saw that what was supposed to be its arm was replaced by what he was searching for. Before Azrael could think any further, it stepped back into the fog and was gone.

“Damn it!” Azrael groaned under his breath. He punched the ground in frustration before getting up and looking towards the direction of the other people. They were still a distance away, but he knew they could hear him. “Hey! Are you all alright?”

He didn’t particularly care about their wellbeing, but if they had just encountered the creature, they probably had information for him.

”Whoever it is who walks under the deep shadows of Daer Taurë, know that you have found Findelfin. Know also that you are in grave danger. There is something abroad in these woods that wants to hurts all life within it. I am sending a messenger to you, do not be alarmed, he will tell you what to do. We need to march now, before daylight comes, or some of us may not make it out alive.”

The voice seemed to come out of nowhere as Cecil tried to force his eyes to see through the thick fog which had settled over the area. The voice bore into his mind with little effort and the voice communicated with him as if the speaker was whispering directly into his ear. Findelfin, the great elf of legend within Raiaera had indeed found the mercenary and apparently felt that this fog was a threat to their well being. Searching for the messenger which the great elf was sending, Cecil could see no sign of any person approaching.

“Human, Findelfin wishes us to bring you to him, please keep close. There are dangers which we cannot imagine lurking in this fog.”

The voice came from above, and Cecil almost yelled out in shock as he quickly scanned the boughs of the trees. There stood an elf, gripping the trunk of the tree. No other greeting was mentioned as the sound of screams filled the forest. Both the elf and Cecil snapped their gaze in the direction of the murderous sounds of flesh being torn asunder and a man screaming for aid. Without a sound the agile elf softly landed on the ground beside Cecil. “Young man, if you wish to live you best keep up. It appears the creature has befallen my comrades with or without you I must move.”

With that the elf broke out into a sprint. Pulling his sword from its sheathe, Cecil gave chase to the elf. Following the man was much more difficult then Cecil could ever have imagined. Weaving in and out of the large trees seemed effortless to the elf. The only footsteps being heard were those belonging to Cecil as the elf made next to little noise as he covered the forest floor closing in on the sounds of confusion and fear. Breaking through a final thicket of branches, Cecil was finally face to face with the great Findelfin, and a corpse.

The smell of blood was thick as the fog which surrounded them. The elves were up in arms as one of their comrade lay in a pool of his own blood, lifeless. Reality washed over Cecil as he gripped the hilt of his sword. All the color in his face drained and was left with a paleness which could only be brought upon someone by unknowing fear. Clearly all their lives were in the balance and the only hope they had was to stick together best they could. Findelfin stood out as a pillar of strength as his troops gathered around him. How Cecil wished he could draw such a reaction from people, yet here he was on the verge of collapse.

Another human entered the scene as the elves continued to search for the monster which had claimed the life of their comrade. The young human made an ill timed joke in his introduction which in all honesty could have caused the elves to turn on him if he was not so young. A voice broke out from a short distance away calling to see if everyone was unharmed. ”To Bad the one elf won’t get a chance to say yeah I’m fine, or to feel the sun warming his cool face, the laughter of children or the exhilaration that came with love. At least not anymore.” The thoughts were sobering on Cecil as he once again focused on Findelfin, the brave leader.

“Findelfin I assume.” Cecil walked up to the great elf hiding the whirlpool of emotions which ravaged within his mind. “I wish to assist you in your battle with Xem'zûnd. However, first I feel whatever did that to your friend,” Cecil pointed at the now lifeless corpse, “must be taken care of.” Extending his hand to the elf, Cecil met his green eyes for the first time. “I’m Cecil Lancaster,” Rosa pushed her way out of his front pocket as he introduced himself, “and this is Rosa.”

Since more than seven days have passed since the last post in this thread, this boss battle has ended unsuccessfully.