Round 1 Group 6

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

"Look around you," the little girl had said. "Does this look cursed to you?" The words stuck with me for the hours our group walked down the twisted path that led deeper into the Red Forest. The scarred sellsword Nicolas may have brushed off a comment like that as the delusions of a young woman; but something about them, something about her tone... It didn't sit well with me.

Cellar had been acting oddly since we broke the tree line. More than once, I caught her starting to stray from the rest of us, her eyes filled with wonder, her emotions distant, her mind distracted. At first, I thought it might have been just a sheltered young girl's naiveté and curiosity--she was in a foreign land now, the likes of which cannot be found anywhere else in the world.

But those words struck a chord with me. "Does this look cursed to you?"

They had been on my mind for a while now, even as I led our ragtag group of adventurers and murderers towards whatever horrors awaited them deep in the woods. We had the good fortune to not have come across any of the predatory beasts or shapeshifters that populated Lindequalmë; I was sure that Martin (the bearded adventurer), Nicolas, and Elthas could handle themselves in a fight with the monsters that lurked in the bushes, but Sulla and Cellar I was far less confident about.

My mind wandered to my conversation with Podë before I arrived in Raiaera. The Red Witch said that she had many others she was going to visit before the High Bard Council gave us the orders to storm the heart of her power. It was not a decision I was terribly happy with. I'm more that worthy of carrying on her legacy myself. But, I understood. She was worried that I might fall, that I might fail. That I might not be able to stop the Raiaerans and their conscripts from loosening her grip on the world.

Tactically, it was a reasonable decision. I get that. I get what she's trying to do here. But there was doubt in my heart. She knows what I'm capable of; she knows of the atrocities that I've committed. She knows that I would be willing to commit many more for her if it would give me a fucking purpose in this world.

I felt betrayed. I felt cast aside. I felt like she didn't trust me.

She knew that she was going to die soon, and she wouldn't let me save her.

It hurt.

But, I would still follow her orders. I would simply watch events unfold, keep tabs on the others who she granted her power to, and learn the names of those that ultimately killed her. I would be the supporting character in the last act of her life's story that she saw me fit to be.

And it made me angry.

Cellar's words echoed in my mind again. "Does this look cursed to you?"

In my conversations with Podë and my own interactions with the power she granted me, I learned that her gifts manifested themselves in different ways in everyone. The way the curse interacted with every life form was different, dependent entirely on the strength of their soul and the memories and experiences they've endured. For someone like myself, it allowed me to mutate those that I touch into horrible monsters very much like the one that the world saw me as. But for others...

I didn't finish my thought before things started falling in place. Someone like Cellar, an innocent, sheltered, inexperienced, unskilled, helpless little child...

And then the lack of vicious creatures that normally met those unlucky enough to find themselves deep within the crimson curse-tainted woods...

..."Does this look cursed to you?"

Could it be... That... that wretch is one of Podë's chosen ones?

I raised a briar-knit hand, immediately bringing the others to a halt on the rough dirt path we were ordered to go down. Nicolas cocked his head slightly, confused. "Is something wrong?" I ignored him as I spun around and made straight for Cellar, who had taken up a spot a few paces back from the group. I could feel the piercing gazes of Sulla and Elthas as I approached her, kneeling down slightly to match her height. I looked her square in her sapphire eyes. She returned my gaze, but also seemed to be looking past me. That damned smile continued to adorn her face; that mocking, knowing smile.

"Cellar," I asked her softly. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, Madison, of course it is." The smile never left her face as she spoke the words.

I took a deep breath. "I'm going to ask you again, dear." I reached up with my vine-weft hands, lightly touching the sides of her face. "Is everything alright?"

She spoke again, just above a whisper, with a voice that was not her own. A voice that I recognized. "Yes, everything is fine, my little mon--"

The rustling of bushes interrupted her. I spun around to find that Martin was falling to the forest floor, a fresh wound adorning his neck and spurting blood that got caught in his salt and pepper beard as he hit the ground. A vicious-looking brute in black cloth armor stood above him, a crimson-stained dagger gripped tightly in his right hand. One by one, more of his friends emerged from the forest that surrounded us. They circled our little party, weapons drawn and bloodlust in their eyes.

[Elthas_Belthasar]

Due to an elevated state of mind brought about by the cannibus herb, Elthas reacted purely on instinct.

His sharp eyes saw it quickly, the rustling of the bushes. His companion already had her weapon at the ready, and one of their party was stricken down. Elthas saw Martin go down quickly and reacted at the same step. He shoved his female companion out of the way with a sudden rush of the adrenal glands. He knew they were everywhere, and there was a distinct scent of fresh death in the air. Rotten. Rotten to the core. He could have sworn he saw the state of the air about them change ever so subtly. Probably due to Podes' influence... "Get down!" Elthas yelled suddenly. He made sure his companion had been pushed out of the way of an incoming blade tip. Elthas felt a sting acrosss his shoulder. The dagger bit through his fancy clothing.

But that's exactly what Elthas wanted.

He knew the rough position of the mystery men as they attacked. His body moved with the full speed he was able to muster. Which was quite impressive, he reacted to his fullest capacity bringing his dagger about in a full motion. He instinctively moved to slice the throat of the leather clad fellow that attacked so suddenly. There were sounds in the wind, sounds of people screaming and dying and fighting. Elthas suddenly wondered if they'd been had. Either way, he'd promised to get that girl home safe. Blood splattered from his dagger strike and he cut the throat of one of the nearest of the fellows. He gurgled in sudden shock and grabbed at his throat as he bled out, it was already over. He fell down dying. Then Elthas looked carefully around. They were surrounded, the girl, Cellar and Madison and Sulla were gone. The group had been effectively cut off from the base camp. Damn, someone has to take charge of this shit. Elthas continued to remain on the move, and then reached for his friend. He helped her stand.

"Keep it together." Elthas said as he cut down two more of the leather clad warriors.

She nodded. After drawing a bastard sword, she also cut down two more.

Elf and Human fought side by side, honouring the old alliances. Blood splattered across the air, touching the wind with it's heavy scent. Elthas screamed angrily. He could only assume that Madison Freebird had somehow set them all up with this little stunt. That was his natural assumption. She's at the center of this shit. Elthas thought, he knew he was separated from the others. Elthas and the girl by his side would fight until they made it to the next closed adventure group, he had to save as many as he could. As he fought through the various groups of attacking bandits, Elthas felt angry. This whole business is ugly and dirty, and the politicians in charged will only write this off as a loss and send another group off to die. They stay in their nice little offices the whole time... He kept his fedora on as he ran at full speed. His dagger met with several throats on the way.

As he ran further and further away from Madison and the rest he got angrier and angrier. He saw a group of Adventurers fighting up ahead a different group of the bandits. It was a surgical strike. Elthas stabbed a bandit in the head and continued to run forward. Once him and his female friend reached the next adventure party, he took out his bards' horn and sheathed his daggers. "Cover me." Elthas yelled. Taking his battle horn, he suddenly blew a rallying song to call forth the allies of his party. Those who were fighting to stay alive. Those who would heed the call of Eluriand and it's people. Elthas took a much higher path that day and blew the horn. The others heard his call and began to quickly rally around the Elf. Though he was an Elf from a different part of the world...he was an Elf none the less. The female companion who fought like a battle maiden by his side, was also rallied by his inspirational song. He called with his battle horn like a spell singer of old.

Funny, a spell singer would help, even indirectly, to bring down Pode.

[Sulla]

The paths of the Red Forest twisted as much as the gangly limbs that adorned the trees. Sunlight seemed pale and languid as it fell through the branches, and no birds could be heard to sing their jaunty little ballads. But what the forest lacked for in verdant grace, it more than made up in a seemingly endless number of places to hide. Every twig snap and rustle felt like the dinner bell of some fell creature. I could feel a giddiness inside me; an eager nervousness that I’ve felt a hundred times before. That wonderful, flighty feeling I had crouching in the shadows, stalking my prey from the distance, and listening for the heavy footfalls of nearby guards or witnesses. It whetted me for whatever inevitable end the party would come to. I could also hear my straight razor call out, desperate for use.

Madison stopped us at one point to further question the useless girl; a ridiculous use of our time and a danger to us all. Constant movement meant any attack would require that much more coordination, but I assumed the she-plant required someone to sing to her to allow her to grow strong. Still, there was something very concerning about Cellar. I had kept a keen eye on her on our march, more than on any other companion. And, unfortunately, more than I did on the woods around us.

When Martin fell in a sputtering of blood, my honed instincts kicked it. The chaotic battle that would soon erupt around me required no planning, no pow-wow, no instruction of any kind; when trouble reared ugly head, I did as I always did. ”Escape. Survive. Bide.”

I snuck off into the brush to my right, careful to check for any more of the enemy that might be around. Humans were attacking; whether brigands or assassins, I did not care. Men were simple to deal with, their patters were far more predictable than the randomness of dread animals. As I skulked gingerly through a thorny bush, I could hear more footsteps around me. They hadn’t seem my crouching form, I did not allow them. I was still, quiet, and moving only when I knew the sounds would be covered by their lumbering or during a furious clash of steel.

Soon the cries of battle grew fainter, but one could never let their guard down. Creeping through the forest floor, I kept my eyes and ears open all around. The smallest movement caused my heart to beat with passion that fired all my limbs. Tense, restless, and subtle, I tried to find some cover from which I could formulate a new plan. If my group managed to survive their troubles, they’d no doubt have questions as to my disappearance. Warriors were always so eager to look down on the arts of stealth. They may bemoan it as cowardice, but such dualistic views overlook its sheer effectiveness. Still, I’d rather keep questions of myself and my motives to the barest minimum. I was already out of place with no identifiable weapon or armor, and no magic to speak of. If things went well for them, I’d have to rough myself up a bit to convince them I was off fighting in the brush.

Snap

I don’t often audibly growl, but my body betrayed me in that moment. Something was nearby, though it didn’t sound as if it was getting any closer. If an assailant had attempted to follow me, I’d be sure to put them to an end. Slinking towards the disturbance, I was careful to keep my disturbing the piles of putrid leaves that littered the ground, and observant of any fallen branches. The slightest sound would give me away as easily as it had my prey. As I climbed a knoll, woven with roots from its core, I spotted an amusing sight.

Cellar had her back pressed up against a tree, shirking away from an attack who took his time to eye her over. He wore a ponytail of matted hair, with gray patches and bald spots checkering it. His clothes were unseemly in their filthy, and no doubt he stank as bad as he looked afar. Neither of them spoke, from either shock or some sick daydream, they kept blissfully quiet. And I too remained quiet on my rapid approach. But my footing was uneasy, as I could feel a disturbance beneath my feet. The roots of this hill seemed to slither with a life of their own. The man’s ill-patched boots scarcely noticed the wooded tendrils nipping at his heels. But Cellar’s legs were free from the same molestation. ”Curious.”

The man was about to say some line, no doubt witty, by the time I reached the pair. I didn’t give the foolish Cellar’s eyes time to betray my approach. My straight razor drawn, I swiftly snatched the ponytail, pulled the man’s head back, and slight his throat in one simple move. Caught off guard, his unready sword arm spun around with his body, but I dropped to the ground to kick his legs out from under him. Sweet blood gushed from his neck, though he tried to stop the fount from flowing. I simple climbed on top of him then and pinned his arms to the crimson-soaked earth. I needed to look into his eyes and find that satisfaction denied to me for weeks on end. Surprise and fear, a common appetizer, but oh how I felt that sweet burning hatred when he saw my smile. By the time I arose again, a bit tired from all the excitement, the girl managed to collect her few scattered thoughts.

“Thank you,” she half-whispered. Her voice was distant, as if I had just awoken her from a dream. I had expected some kind of mewling, perhaps even undue praise; something was truly off about her. It was then I remembered the vines on the ground. Some went to work on corpse I just left, but a few more inched their way towards my ankles. Recalling the conversation from earlier, when Madison had confronted Cellar, my mind started to race with possibilities that needed confirmation.

“You know, this really is a beautiful place.” I grinned, all the while propping her emotions for some more clues. There was something alien in there, behind the brattish selfness and greed, behind the fear, behind it all. Some inhuman puppeteer pulled the thin strings of her mind, and felt an emotion I could give no name to. My smile grew wider. “They don’t see it like we do,” I said, stepping closer. I could feel a confusion wash over her. She distrusted me, reviled me, but I had yet to make such a major misstep. At the same time, I’d saved her, and I could feel the little princess inside cry out for a knight. “Of course,” I chuckled mere inches away, my voice hushed “I don’t need Podë’s eyes to see it.”

Though my punch to her throat was viciously quick, I held back a bit on my strength. My arm grabbed her fragile form as it struggled for breath. I needed her alive, for now.

[Taste of Treason]

Run I screamed the word in my own mind the moment the chaos started. I cannot say where my mind had wandered. One moment Madison touched my skin and the next I felt like I’d just awoken from a beautiful dream to find myself in a nightmare. The beautiful forest I’d walked peacefully moments before absorbed the blood of Martin and in an instant matched its hue. The trees began to grow in strange ways, their trunks became thick and gnarled and the flowers began to shrivel into disgusting decaying designs. I stood in awe for just a second before my own voice registered. Run

My legs obeyed, but it was far too late. I succeeded in clearing the first line of rotting foliage only to feel someone hit me from behind, hard. The man hit full force against my spine and fell on top of my small frame. The wind left my lungs in a strange gasp. My attacker seemed worse off from the fall as well though, and I used the chance to grasp at the rotting ground and push myself forward. I found my footing just as he grabbed my ankle. I regained my balance just enough to send a forceful kick behind me straight into his face. It wasn’t the most graceful of moves, but all I needed was a head start.

I didn’t get it. The large pony-tailed man was fast. Far faster than I’d counted on. He was on me in a moment and quickly grabbed my arm. I spun against my will only to be shoved forcefully against a tree trunk. The bark bit into my back through my shirt and I could feel the scrapes burning on my arms from the fall. The foul stench of death came at me from all directions and vomit sat at the base of my throat. I couldn’t look into his eyes. I knew all at once that I had been lied to. There was nothing in this place but pain and sadness. I closed my eyes tight and prayed. Whatever being that had thus far spared me surely still heard. Hadn’t I learned by now that good and evil didn’t exist? There are only choices. At this moment, my choice was to find an ally wherever it may be.

I felt the man’s arm leave my chest. I tensed, ready for a the blow that was sure to come. Instead, I felt only a spray of liquid. I opened my eyes slowly and looked down upon my blood-covered body. It was impossible to tell what was mine and what belonged to the dead man who now lay at my feet. I watched as the forest began to swallow him whole.

“Thank you.” I managed the words in hurried breaths. The man, Sulla just stared at me with those same questioning eyes. The small amount of light that fought its way through the treetops reflected off his glasses as he glanced around.

“I don’t need Podë’s eyes to see it.” His voiced seemed to echo through the air. How did he know what I only suspected? I didn’t have time to answer my own thought. My throat suddenly exploded with pain and everything faded to a dark gray.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

The fighting was quick and brutal, just the way I liked it.

The sudden appearance of this new group and their murder of Martin caused several of my party to scatter. Elthas, his female companion whose name I haven't remembered yet, and Nicolas immediately drew their weapons and went on the offensive. Those three seem alright on their own, I thought as I tore The Last Resort out of its holster and cocked back the hammer.

Before me stood three men clad in dark leather gear. The trio looked pretty rough and tumble, as if they had spent a lifetime ambushing adventuring parties and caravans for sport. They sprinted towards me, knives in hand.

One of these guys, the man on the right, looked to be of Salvic descent. Tall and moderately handsome, he had the build of a seasoned warrior. I would go into further detail about him, but it would be a waste of time. A burst of fire erupted from the barrel of my revolver, and the bullet caught him square between the eyes, immediately dropping him.

I moved my arm over to put the second guy in my sights, but he was quicker than I had accounted for. He quickly knocked my hand aside and plowed into me, knocking the pistol onto the crimson weed-choked forest floor in the process. We collapsed to the ground, his bulk pinning me to the dirt as I struggled to free myself. He managed to maneuver himself so he was sitting on my stomach, pressing his right forearm in my throat, choking me.

A yellowed grin missing several teeth crossed his dark, scarred face as he continued to crush my windpipe. "You thought you'd get all th' glory to yourselves, eh?" With his free hand, he reached around and slowly unsheathed a very nasty-looking dagger with a serrated edge. A ray of light glinted off the polished blade, and for the first time in a while I felt a pang of fear in the back of my mind. I had to do something, and quick.

With all of my strength, I tried to push the brute off of me. I managed to shift his weight just enough to free my left hand, which was all that I needed. Thin threads of vine in the palm of my hand split, revealing twin pods. From them, a cloud of gray spores grew. I swung my hand into the man's face, catching him in the nose with a palm strike. It wasn't enough to knock him off me... But that wasn't my goal.

"Oof!" He dropped his dagger onto the ground next to us as he clutched his face with both hands. He pulled them away, his eyes scanning for blood. "You stupid bitch," the attacker growled, "do you think that will be enough--" He paused suddenly, a look of horror flashing in his eyes. And then, he screamed. It was a guttural howl that should not have come out of the throat of a man. The brute tumbled off of me, his hands clutching and clawing at his face as his skin turned an ashen gray and peeled away, revealing muscle and bone underneath.

I slowly rose to my feet, collected my gun, and stared down the last of the trio over the twitching bodies of his dying comrades. He hesitated for the briefest of moments before summoning a ball of fire in his hands, which he launched at me. I waved a briar-knit fist in the air, leaving behind a trail of red spores that hungrily gobbled up the spell before I could even feel the heat off it. The mage flinched seeing this, fear creeping across his young face as I took a step closer to him.

The boy immediately bolted deeper into the forest, his boots crushing grass and flowers as he ran away from me. I took off after him, jumping over the corpse of the Salvic man as thick blood pooled underneath his cold, still face. The little brat was fast, I'll give him that much credit. He was slowly but surely getting ahead of me. I had to act fast before he could get away. Pools of acid formed in my briar-knit hands, instantly crystallizing into sharp amber shards that could make quick work of flesh and cloth. I threw my left hand forward, launching the acidic daggers forth. The little mage picked that moment to jump over a fallen tree trunk and juke to the right. The shards roared past him and crashed harmlessly into the bushes beyond.

I leaped over the same log and turned down the path to catch up with him. I had the brat in my sights once more; I threw forth my right hand, and this time I did not miss. Several acidic shards found their marks, catching him in his ankles and behind his knees. The boy immediately dropped to the ground, his hands stopping him from knocking his chin against the hard dirt floor. In his desperation, he rose to his feet and tried to take another step. His legs betrayed him, and he fell to the weeds once more.

I took my sweet time drawing closer to him. I could hear the sweet sounds of his whimpers and prayers. Nothing is going to save you now, I mused to myself. One of my mythril daggers sighed softly as I drew it from its leather sheath. I knelt down next to him, savoring the moment. This little fuck was at my mercy. I would relish it while I could.

A flash of metal, a spurt of blood, and a scream. I pinned this little wretch to the dirt by his hand and crept around to face him. I grabbed his hair and lifted his head up. His face was twisted in pain, teeth bared in a snarl as he tried to struggle against my vice-like grip.

"You're not going anywhere right now, so you may as well save it," I said drolly as I sat cross-legged before him. I gazed into his fear-stricken eyes, relishing his panic as he tried to avert his gaze.

"I'm only going to ask you twice. Why?"

The boy stammered as he tried to find his courage in the face of imminent death. "I-I'm not telling you anything, whore!" The fear in his eyes was briefly replaced by a flicker of hatred as he spat out the words.

I slowly reached down to his impaled hand, lightly caressing his fingers as I wrapped my briars around them. I squeezed them softly, and allowed a few droplets of acid from my hand to sear his flesh. My captive squealed in pain as his flesh began dissolving, thin wisps of acrid smoke rising from the gaps between my fingers.

"Let's try this again," I snarled. "Why?"

Between pained gasps and tearful whimpers, he told me everything. "Oh gods, why... I didn't know we was going to kill anyone... Temur... It was all his idea. He wanted us to have all the glory of... of killing the Forgotten One. Nobody else; just us. All of the glory, and all of the treasure. I-I swear! I didn't want to do it! It was all him! It was all Temur!"

I leered at the boy. "What was his plan?" I squeezed the boy's decaying digits tighter, sending another jolt of incredible pain up his arm.

He grimaced before answering. "We was to sweep across the forest, across the paths that the elves marked out on everyone's maps... One by one, Temur wanted us to kill everyone while they were tied up with all of the horrible things lurking in the woods. He thought it would be easy. He promised that it would be easy."

"And then you ran into me," I muttered.

"We learned after the first group that... that witch Podë was possessing people and causing chaos within the ranks of those that the elves sent in." The boy paused for a moment to catch his ragged breath. "You're... You're one of them, aren't you? One of the possessed ones?"

I smiled as acid began pooling in the back of my throat. "Not quite."

[Silence Sei]

Elthas is disqualified for not making the 24 hour time limit.

[Sulla]

Drunk.

It’s a terrifying feeling when the earth itself becomes your enemy. Every tree, vine, bush, and even stagnant puddle became suspect in intention and required a careful eye. Dragging Cellar through scarcely passable trails became a far more arduous. Had I not been blessed with the constant loom of a healthy paranoia, her abduction would have become a fool’s errand. But no matter how hard the forest floor bit at my heels, I would not relent in taking her some place safe from it all. Within her fragile mind lay the key to the Red Witch’s source of power in these haunted woods. Perhaps, if just the right kind of prodding, I could even discover some weakness to finally damn that wretched witch.

The girl was thankfully light. As the last threads of thrashing conscious left her, I managed to sling Cellar over my shoulder and make a steady pace deeper into the thickets. No doubt someone would come to pursue us further, whether it be Madison, Elthas, or more ill-prepared henchmen; I was confident that with the right planning, I could kill them all. But no was not the time for fun and games. I’d had my laugh with the man who’d assaulted the girl, and his mangled corpse would still the ever-beating need inside me to watch something die. Now was a time of action.

I finally found respite in a clearing by a pool. It stank to high heaven with a grotesque rot that brought bile from deep within my stomach to the forefront of my throat, but I managed to push the tides back through sheer force of will. As I lay the girl against a stone, the safest thing I could find, I double checked to make sure any form of nature was distant enough to give me fair warning for its attack. An animal had a chance of sneaking up on me in the brush, but out here, I’d have the precious seconds required to react.

A crimson mud was all the bed I could offer my hostage, but it would do for the moment. I slapped her face with a rough hand to jolt her into the waking world. Had I the time for rest, I could admire the wonderful splattering of blood on her clothes, or that sheepish look on her sleeping face. My smile could no longer greet her, as I hadn’t the time for my normal pleasantries. She stirred in her dreams for only a moment, before two round and puffy eyes braced themselves for an uneasy reality.

“I’m glad you had nice nap,” I growled. “But now, I’m afraid, I need all of that poor excuse you call a mind at full alert.” A dumb silence seemed to have stricken her. Had the girl been a mute, perhaps I would have liked her more. Hell, if more people were as quiet, I’d consider myself gregarious.

“Wha..what happen – “ I struck a blow across her face that sounded clear and hard around. I was too enthusiastic, still drunk on blood from my kill earlier. Finesse would be difficult to conjure in such a tense situation, but I’d manage somehow. I always did.

“Literally no time for that.” I checked over both of my shoulders, nearly having a heart attack as I saw a ripple in the pool behind me. The muddied waters seemed to have a life of their own, until I calmed myself by noticing the scarlet leaves from above that caused the surface to break. I turned back to her, my mind’s eye search her soul again. “Where is Podë? What have you seen? What does the Red Witch fear? What are her weaknesses? What has she told you?” There was no elegance to my rapid questions. I could not afford to be coy in this moment. I could feel the confusion and fear rife in her, but that alien taint seemed far too muted for my liking. Perhaps Podë had retreated out of her body. If that were the case, and I was wasting my time, I’d be none too pleased.

“I don’t know what you’re t –“ This strike was backhanded, and with more the length of my arm. The sound was muffled, but I could see the first few droplets of fresh blood form at the gash in her lip.

“You’ll tell me all I need to know, or you’ll have her speak for herself.” I drew my straight razor now. Perhaps putting things into perspective would loosen her tongue. Women were such vain creatures. Death may not frighten them, but none could stand to watch their beauty marred.

[Taste of Treason]

At first all I felt was the searing pain in my cheek. Soon after I felt my arms and legs also screaming from the various scrapes and bruises. I ached as though I’d fought the harshest battle of my life. I suppose on some level I had. My hair matted with blood stuck to my tear-stained cheeks. I hadn't even realize I was crying.

The man seemed certain I could provide the answers he needed. Whatever he saw inside me wasn't there. One look at his stony expression told me he had no intention of accepting that fact.

To be honest, I didn't see how I could get out of this one. I tried to reason but that only led to another shot of intense pain as his palm struck my face. I gasped for air as he pulled a blade. He waved it tauntingly in front of my face.

What else could I do? I pulled the image from my map, now long lost in the heart of the forest to mind. We were not far from the base of the Tarot Hierarchy. If I could just lead him there, surely Leona or one of the other members would come to my aid. “My home lies in the heart of the forest. Due east. Let me free and I'll lead you there."

The lie escaped my lips in desperate huffs. My voice was shaky and less powerful than I'd hoped, but it was all I had. The stranger cocked his head to the side curiously. Had I succeeded?

A smile played on his lips. Please, just please believe me. I don't want to die here. Not on a fools errand within the most beautiful, wretched place I've ever known.

The man glanced toward the eastern skyline as though he could see through the trees. My heart began to beat faster. My fear began to fade and the slightest bit of hope found its way to my mind. I don't know how he saw it. My expression did not betray me, but somehow, he knew. He twisted the blade in his closed fist before quickly delivering a punch just below my left temple. I could feel my consciousness drifting.

"Well, I suppose if you have no answers. I have no further use for you." His voice was cold. The reflection in his glasses showed a scared little girl. All this time I've tried to change, to become strong enough, and now I would die just as I'd always been. Helpless and alone. All because I thought I'd find glory inside the cursed treeline. Like I said, it's all about choices.

I couldn't respond. I gave in to the exhaustion and let my body relax. At least if he ended me the pain would stop.

I woke to a pain that could only belong to humanity. The weakness of a mortal body never ceased to amaze me. "Did you truly believe I'd allow a simple girl to speak for me?" My voice resounded through the small clearing.

The man, Sulla, turned. His eyes were bright with mischief. "So you can speak."

His arrogance in my own home amused me. Did he think himself beyond my grasp? I could feel my vessel weakening with each passing moment, but I had the forest in my control. He would not be rid of me even if he slaughtered the girl.

I tried to hide the smile that graced Cellar's lips as we watched a vine slowly crawl across the ground toward the attackers ankles.

Yes, my plans could proceed without the child, but her silly naivety made her a perfect vessel. What better way to live out my last few hours? I had accepted my fate, but there was fun yet to be had.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Nobody would ever find the young mage. If they had, nobody would even recognize him in the state of steaming rot that I left him in. Perhaps they would recognize the gore-soaked leather armor that the chunks of his rapidly-melting body were housed in; perhaps they wouldn't. If any of his friends found him, they could take his remains as a sign to not mess with an Agent of Podë. The Red Forest was filled with many horrors; not all of them were flora or fauna.

And I will not have some glory-hungry upstarts fuck things up for me this day.

Minutes passed--I couldn't tell you how many--as I trudged my way back to the narrow clearing where my group was attacked, climbing over downed trees with ash-gray bark and dying crimson leaves. The forest was silent, watching, wary of the multiple intrusions made hours ago by those seeking to kill themselves a villain. Surely, The Red Witch had been keeping tabs on everyone who crossed her borders, right? I mean, she told me that she would visiting others in a big to cause as much destruction as she could before she met her ultimate fate at the hands of... whoever.

I wish I had the insight she had. I wish I could peek into the aether and see the face of the bastard who will take Podë's life.

It hurts that I can't. Like, actually hurts me. She gave me the lives of my parents, she gave me her power, she gave me purpose. That I stand to lose that so soon... It feels like the icy claws of the fates are gripped tight around my heart and are slowly squeezing the life out of me, chuckling softly to themselves as I flail madly in an effort to fight them off.

Her demise is certain, as hard as it is for me to accept that. I will find the fucker who does it, and I will destroy everything they've ever known and loved. I will tear their bastard's heart out and melt it in my grasp as they watch on and then grind their bleeding, lifeless corpse to dust and scatter it to the four winds. Nothing will remain of them for the world to mourn except their name and a warning against those who would follow in their footsteps.

I made a silent promise to myself to see that through to the end, no matter the cost. Podë may not be alive then to appreciate it, but I will enjoy the revenge in her name regardless, for taking something important to me so soon.

The stench of death emanated from the clearing by the time I made my way back to it that made bile creep up my throat. Bodies of the recently slain, both friend and foe alike, littered the crimson weed-choked ground. I scanned them for members of my party, finding only the bodies of Beard and Blond, the latter of which had taken several stabs to his chest from a dagger. About eight bodies belonged to the assholes who attacked us--it seems that we left no man alive as well.

I continued to scan the bodies for signs of the others from my group. I overturned several corpses, seeing nothing but faces that I did not recognize. Where the hell is everyone?

"Elthas?" I looked around the clearing, seeing nothing but the red of the leaves in the canopy and the ashen bark of the cursed trees encircling me like a cage. "Sulla? Cellar? Where the hells are you?"

None of the bodies could be identified as any of those three people. Elthas was a far more capable warrior than his drug habit would lead you to believe. He survived the party--no, not party; fiasco--at the mansion I attended that was rudely interrupted by a splinter horde of Xem'Zund's former forces; surely a few armed mooks couldn't take him out. Sulla, well... The man was a murderous sociopath. He probably ducked out the moment the first blade was drawn.

It was Cellar Door that I was afraid for the most. I had my suspicions about her behavior ever since we broke the tree line. They were all confirmed the moment I heard her voice escape those lips... Useless, bratty Cel had been one of The Red Witch's chosen ones. That scrawny little wretch was one of the few that would make it hell for everyone else.

And she was alone out there, with that creep Sulla lurking in the crimson bushes.

My head started spinning. I didn't like that Podë decided to put her trust into others in her time in need, and I certainly didn't like that she picked her as one of them, but it was my duty nonetheless to guarantee their safety until the bitter end. I had to find Cellar, and fast. But where do I begin?

Let's start with the basics. "Cellar?" I called her name out, and received no answer. "Cellar?" Louder, this time.

Rustling of blood grass behind me drew my attention. I whipped around to see the corpse of Nicolas, who had jittered back to life rather unexpectedly. Blood continued to ooze from his gaping chest wounds. His body fought through the rigor mortis that had taken hold of it, his actions stilted and sudden as he sat up shakily.

"He took her, you know." His words were articulate and perfect, very uncharacteristic of the death rattles of the dead.

"No surprise, I guess." It was probably best for me to simply play along with this situation, all things considered. "Any idea why? Or where?"

Nicolas's neck popped as he tried to force a smile. "The murderer seeks a way to kill me through her. He is not the one, my little monster."

Podë, I thought to myself. I felt my chest swell with a dark energy, a quick shot to pick me up and set me about the task at hand. The dead adventurer's arm rose, his fingers manipulated by the witch's energy to point deep into the forest to my left. "Stop him, if you would be so kind."

I immediately broke out into a sprint in the direction that she pointed me in.

[Sulla]

”She Speaks.”

“Apparently I did,” I said with a wry smile tingling on my lips. There was no better way to engage the unknown than with a completely dismissive attitude. Powers beyond the normal realm of human comprehension were rife with fear in more mundane men, but I had always managed against spellweavers and planewalkers by a clever inability to be impressed. No matter the strength nor reach of the preternatural, there was always some means by which is could be understood, else it wouldn’t exist. “You’ve been a difficult girl to get in touch with, Podë.”

I locked on to the eyes that once belonged to Cellar, now glazed over with some foolish attempt at dignity; no matter what soon-to-be corpse the Red Witch inhabited, nothing could brighten such threadbare regalia. That alien feeling crept inside me now with an all-encompassing potency, and no doubt the meager god could sense all the dwelt within me. The thing once known as Cellar tried to rise, uneasy, as if on the legs of a newborn foal. She shook like the limbs of the trees in the distance, as if a simple gust of wind could knock her down.

“You have called for me, but for what end?” She spoke with two voices, the girl’s and something wholly unnatural. My skin seemed to prick at the very sound of it.

“Yours, I hope.” I stretched to grab the feeble creature, who struggled and twisted in the most inhuman ways to try and escape my grasp. Her efforts were futile, as I soon stood behind her with the straight razor at her neck. I began to whisper into her ear as one would to a lover, so I’m told. “Where do you dwell? What hurts you? What do you fear?”

“Questions are pointless, and your efforts wasted.” Her neck turned, and I was sure that if it stretched any more the head would spin clean around. “You could kill this vessel, but I have others. You are nothing.” Her voice was slow, like the pounding rhythm of a war drum at the head of a host just outside city walls. From the corner of her eye, I could just make out an emotion that I had mastered since I was a boy. Contempt.

It drove me wild. With a recklessness unknown to me, I slammed my forehead into the back of her skull and tripper her with my leg. As the herald tumbled to the ground, I leapt upon to stare dead into her eyes. As I tried to pin her down, however, I felt a slithering itch on my skin. Though my steady right hand still managed to keep a blade to the witch’s throat, my left arm had been snared by a vine that crept up on me. It pulled tightly and tried to dig into my flesh, though its efforts halted as I nicked the tender skin of Cellar’s throat ever-so-gently with my blade.

“Now, you see, that hurts.” My heart raced, and my chest felt as if it had a ton of raw iron weighing it down. My breath had become labored, and I’m a bit ashamed to admit that I had begun that slow spiral towards losing composure. “Who are your other vessels? Are they as easy to catch as this girl? Perhaps a rabbit?”

“Fool. I had many and more. You stand within the greatest of them all. This forest is more than just my masterpiece. Every drop of rain that falls within I feel, every footstep I hear, and every hapless adventurer I see.” I could feel the coil vine tighten again, clawing its way into my arm.

“And yet you’re having so much trouble actually doing anything about it. These malformed trees and stained earth aren’t some marvel from which you rule on high,” I laughed in her face, spittle forming at my lips as I pulled against the vine in anger. “It’s your prison. You can see through the bars, but you can’t walk outside of it.” So engrossed with the scene, that I didn’t manage to hear the approach of an old familiar pair of boots behind me.