The Daemon of Fire   Knightshade hurried silently through Bloodwood Forest, occasionally stooping to examine the ground in front of him. Much to his dismay the trail led eastward. 'Such foolishness will result in death, or worse,' he said softly to himself as he continued on his way. The youngsters had been gone for over an hour. Although they were skilled in woodcraft, he knew that greater evil than they could hope to handle lay eastward. Perhaps, he thought gloomily to himself, they have already found that out.   He had walked in Bloodwood since he was a child and knew it's paths intimately. Therefore, it was a great surprise when he found that the trail lead south to a small clearing that he had never seen before. It was with much unease that he entered the clearing and saw the stone coffin that sat in the middle of it. A sarcophagus! How was it that he never seen this here before? There was something unwholesome about it, and his senses warned of evil lurking within. Gingerly he examined it, noting the lichen that covered much of its lid, hiding the markings that were in a tongue he did not recognise. Gently he rapped the hilt of his sword on the lid, and was startled by the hollow sound it made. There was more beneath this thing than its height suggested. Examining the base of the lid, he found scratch marks...they were recent. Obviously they had passed this way. Sliding his fingers as far under the lid as he could, he lifted with as much effort as he could muster. It didn’t budge. If they had passed within...he would not be able to follow them. Quickly he searched around the clearing and found their trail once more. They had headed east once more from the clearing. He felt relief wash over him. Dismissing the strange coffin he followed their trail, hope rising within him once again. They had left the clearing alive.   As he moved deeper into the forest, he was alarmed at the rate of the setting sun. Soon he would not be able to see in front of him, and he would have to wait until morning or stumble blindly along in the dark. The dangers of Bloodwood he could avoid during the day, but the trolls and imps possessed greater night vision than he did. He would be lucky to survive. Before long he found the forest changing around him. The trees became more sinister and the path full of roots and holes that made even walking a difficult task. The trunks became twisted and dark, the leaves spotted with disease and decay. He had left Bloodwood behind...and had entered the Forest of Death. He had been here only a handful of times. He knew that its name was a well deserved one, as well as a useful tool for frightening children into behaving when they became unruly. He felt his courage wavering and tried to convince himself that they must have turned back earlier...but the signs were there. They had passed into this cursed forest and were somewhere nearby.   Wishing for the innocence and enthusiasm of youth, he moved warily through the trees. Vague shapes, some huge beyond belief, could be seen in the distance. But he never saw them for long. Either his mind was conjuring up these images, or they possessed woodcraft that belied their size. Although the normal woodland sounds could be heard, they were muted...as if the birds and smaller animals had learned that noise meant a quick death. Thus when he heard the scream of panic to the north, it was like a thunderbolt that shatters the silence. It was a human scream.   Racing recklessly through the trees, he was scratched many times, where the tree branches found the joins in his armour, but he barely felt them. Forcing his way through a bush in front of him, he saw his prey. They were trapped against a large rock. Melaney, a wizard, but only an apprentice, was trying desperately to recite one of the few spells she knew. Rowin, his training blade held before him in a poor imitation of a warriors guard, had a look of pure horror on his young face. The object of their terror was a wolf. No...it was not a wolf. Wolves never grew to such a huge size. Knightshade had seen these beasts before, but never this close. It was a Fenris. This one had a coat of blood red and it was crouched, ready to spring at the two youngsters.   Page 1 of 2     Return to Index Next Page   This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page