“Questions?” I muttered under my breath, so quietly I could hardly hear myself. The whispers of the Forgotten spoke in an unknown language, tantalizing and teasing my senses. It was hard to focus, harder to move. Half-formed thoughts flooded my brain. The cottage was not an unknown place, but one that was actually very familiar. I had used it as refuge with the other Bladesingers, scouting the Red Forest for signs of the coming plague, and again a decade later when I had been resurrected. I had seen no signs of my squad when I came back to the living world. “Nolnaan.”
I stared at the door and the slab that covered it, wondering if anything remained of the crumpled body of my former friend. Raps of claws and muted groans began to echo from every corner of the walls. In the faint light of the druid’s magic I could make out the grasping fingers prying at shattered windows, attempting to find purchase and a way inside. Snarling corpses with glowing eyes peeked through the clouded windows.
My arrow was placed with its partners, a small compliment all I had left and I wanted to keep as many as I could. I slid the bow over my head and the string across my chest. In its place I drew my sword and followed Sulla up the stairs, slowly stepping with utmost caution. They groaned expectantly under foot, each holding our weight – if just barely.
At the top of the stairway was a long, dark hall. It seemed to stretch endlessly into the shadows. Sulla pointed at the rooms, moving towards one door while motioning for me to explore the other. I waited till the human pushed the door open, making sure that no more hidden undead were waiting to lunge from the room. Skins hung from racks, rotten piles of mold covering scraps of abandoned meat littered the floor, and an array of hunting weapons rested on a table against the farthest wall.
“Find me arrows, if there are any.” I whispered as I opened my own door and entered with sword point guiding my way. The darkness slowly subsided as my emerald eyes adjusted, my natural nightvision allowing me to search without concern for light. From every corner, lining each wall, were bundles of drying herbs. Vials of unknown liquid covered the two tables, broken glass scattered around the floor. At the center, a pile of the broken roof where it had crumbled was seemingly gathered in an organized fashion.
“Herbs,” I said as I met up with Sulla in the hallway again. He handed me a bundle of arrows and I put them away in the quiver against my hip. “Last room?”
As soon as Sulla’s hand touched the nob for the largest room we both stopped dead in our tracks, a high pitched scream ripping through the hallway from the lower floor. Woodsayer cried out in shock, almost painfully, and the shrill was infused with power. My legs attempted to buckle under the pressure as my hands were flattened against my ears. “What the fuck!” I heard my companion yell. As soon as the long breath came to an end, and with it the wail, I rushed downstairs.
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