The Legends of Roil

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In the Darkness The thorns clawed at his flesh as Pathan pulled back the vine. Slowly he followed the silent back of Rontaris, barely an arm's length ahead but already fading in the darkness. Pressing his passage through the thick brush, the armored warrior had little to fear from the hard, black thorn vines which tore at Pathan and the rest. Pathan bitterly remembered the swamps, when Rontaris and his heavy armor could barely stand without sinking in the muck. Rontaris had been less proud then. The thorns scraped a long, eerie whine against the metal plated warrior, but behind him Pathan could hear the brush bite deeply into Ta'treene. The priestess of the Mage had suffered the worst of the four still alive, for her silken robes offered no protection from the black vines. Six in number, they had been, when first they entered the Wildwood. The elves of the Greybark had other, darker names for it, and their journey through the forest had convinced Pathan that the elven names were more correct. The old sorcerer had been the first lost, when the ground had falled out from beneath him. Three others had stepped on top of the creature which had lay hidden beneath the fallen leaves, but the thing had not moved. And it had swallowed the old man before anyone could act. Gourdir had tried to save the sorcerer, but he too had been consumed by the beast. They had fled then, running blindly into the forest. He had come for the gold. So had Rontaris and Gourdir. Ta'treene and the sorcerer had believed that they could find a library in the ancient city, and they came for magical writings. The bard had come because he could not resist the temptation. But the ruins of Tokuntora had eluded them all, despite the continual directions and criticisms provided by Dethantos. As angers flared, Rontaris had outrightly threatened the bard, and Dethantos had since been quiet. The priestess had prayed to the Mage, and had been able to see the sun. Now they headed to the west, and to home. Rontaris stopped suddenly, and Pathan began to mutter more rude comments about the warrior. But just ahead was something. A face, looking at them, as best as he could tell. Pathan knew it had moved, though his eyes weren't quick enough to follow it. The great snake struck Rontaris full in the face, and the warrior's scream shattered the lull of the forest. Rontaris stumbled back, falling into Pathan, collapsing as he fell through the rogue's arms. Wild panic had seized Pathan, and the rogue collided with the priestess as he turned to run. Grasping her rune of silver magic, Ta'treene carefully moved to the still form of Rontaris. The snake could not be seen, and only the quiet prayer chant of the priestess could be heard over the steady dripping rain. Pathan's face, wet and streaked with dirt, looked up from the ground to meet Ta'treene's glance. Her eyes told him what he already suspected; that the warrior was dead. Both at once, they realized that Dethantos too was gone.