Crows nibbled tiny purple chunks from corpses.
Between the eyes, ears, throat, whatever meat the maggots had yet to cover, and bodies littered the woods in all directions.
Horns bellowed every hour, at times minutes.
There was a dense fog, which was odd, considering there hadn't been a cloud in the sky for the past few days.
Odd as it seemed, his flail hand throbbed. Nothing was in range though he could feel the impact, bones snapping, flesh tearing, steel whipping one way before lashing to another. It was all so simple, the one memory he was certain would never fail, and upon hearing men scream his flail hand stiffened.
Caws, something deeper than a crow with a slight curl, echoed above.
Arthur dismounted and Dany followed suit. He remained atop his steed, one which Nathan had known for many years. Allison nocked an arrow, cursing at the darkening sky.
"Stay together!" She commanded, and Arthur stood back to back with Dany.
The near mute lass kept her shield high, sword pointed out with her elbow tucked.
Men screamed, horns rang, then shrills cawed against the air. Steel and iron collided, an attack from the air lasting no more than several seconds. Dozens of men ran their way, all directions, many who paid them no heed while a handful cried out warnings.
"Livazra! The gargoyles have us surrounded!"
Though they bore different insignia's, dragons, bears, bird wings, and cross axes, every soldier ran through the woods. Some dropped their weapons, others cowered behind trees, as caws shook the air once more. Those who formed shield walls kept their spears tight, watching the skies.
Winds raced, a light brush touching his face, and he looked up to see a pair of glowing white eyes.
Fangs gleaming, the gargoyle closed in swinging a double-edged axe. His shield took the brunt of hit, though the beast hovered in arm's reach, swinging again. He kicked his heels and Nathan's horse charged onward. Shield up, he knocked the gargoyle back, its tongue a black forked serpent lashing. A swing of his flail caved its chest in, crashing it to the dirt. Nathan's horse stomped it out, crushing its face as more fiery eyes glowed above.
"Treacherous human!" A she gargoyle hissed.
Wings blotted out beaming eyes.
What felt to be dozens of bulls slammed into his shield, a black iron mace at least twice the size of his flail. His horse stumbled, but dashed clear, the mace swinging down on them as he rode between trees. Allison loosed arrows, though not a single one penetrated, some bouncing off the gargoyle's skin.
Nothing was above him, gargoyles tearing apart shield walls or snatching soldiers into the air, and he dismounted Nathan's horse before slapping the steeds hide to send it away.
Eyes ablaze, the she gargoyle swooped down. One bash of her mace split Nathan's horse in half, then she clawed out its heart in a single swipe. Blood on her face, she smiled, towering above him by at least several meters. Wings spread, she roared, shaking the ground, and he span his flail overhead.
More soldiers were scattering about the woods, though none dared turn their way.
She leaped, and he swung out. His steel spiked whip clashed against her mace, and she soared back as he stumbled. Again they exchanged blows, Livarza hissing at every swing. She ascended higher, then crashed down, denting his shield. Her claws heaved him through the air, and he slammed into a tree, snapping its trunk.
Shield up, he rose with a ringing head, though she bashed him down. His forearm snapped, and he kept his shield raised against writhing stabs.
A swing of his flail was deflected, her mace cutting him off before he could get a full reach. Arrows landed against her head, hard as stone like the rest of her dark scaled skin. While she roared, turning to curse at Allison, he slammed his flail down on her toes. She wailed, staggering back before falling to a knee. He swung, caving in her chest, black blood leaking between her breasts. On her back she squirmed, beating her wings, kicking up dust into his eyes. He swung blind, denting the ground, and she was in the air by the time his vision cleared.
Several gargoyles, at least half her size, surrounded him, and he lashed them out the air in a single swing.
"I will have you on the next night human!" Livarza shouted, her voice echoing among the wind.
As he crushed the last gargoyle's skull, soldiers charged him.
Dragon insignia's on their chests, their ears were pointed like Alrieon's, and they thrusted spears into his cracked shield. His arm was so tight he couldn't move it, and he took dozens of spears against his shield until arrows loosed.
Two, some three at a time, Allison loosed, landing arrows in the throats and faces of every man in front of him. Arthur's and Dany stood above several kneeling men, dozens more surrounding them at their feet.
Gargoyle blood curls lasted for another hour, then it was nothing but occasional horns or war cries.
From what they gathered it was complete chaos leading to the battlefield, every army amongst one another in a thick endless fog. There was no way to tell friend from foe until one were close enough to grasp, and it was the same for miles on end within the woods.
After tying up the captured soldiers, tossing them into a ditch where they'd be out of sight, the Embers ventured west. Or so they believed, and as the hours passed Allison grew more frustrated than he'd ever seen. Confidence enough to challenge him, or anyone who dared threaten her party, was gone. In the endless miles, going in circles, she cursed the gods, one in particular, and even after dawn they ended up back at the ditch.
Wolves gnawed on bloody bones, and several pups nibbled on what little meat there was left.
He picked the pack leader, a dark silver coated beauty, and cracked its neck with a squeeze. Though the others, Allison in particular, were queasy at his choice of breakfast once the meat was smoking they were more than thrilled to have their share.
"We'll follow our tracks back to the hills," Allsion said, picking her teeth with her dagger. "If nothing else we could try crossing the cliffsides."
Arthur sighed, "We could run the risk of running into Alrieon again. Good as our new hired muscle is, we were lucky the elvish lord was focused on turning Hardok against rival armies."
Allison thought on it, asking Dany if she had suggestions, though the mute remained silent.
"If I can't slay a princess atop a dragon, you'd have been better off taking my gold," he said, offering what little he cared to. "We'll not find our way out of this rut, something I'd wager isn't natural."
"You think the fog's sorcery?" Allison asked, nodding. "Somone's trying to keep the fighting in these woods."
They doused the fire, and rested for a bit longer.
He was in a killing mood, and couldn't understand why they were so exhausted, haven done nothing but slaughter a few dozen soldiers. The gargoyles slept during the day, meaning he'd have to wait out another hour or so for something fun. As winds picked up, he sat against a tree
Clumsy footsteps broke twigs behind him, and the mute greeted him with a nod.
"Why are we here?" He asked.
Dany, arms folded as a cold gust swept through, said, "I can't tell you."
He looked towards the other two sleep. "Worse she can do is kill ya'."
She shuddered, sitting next to him. A little dove with nothing more than her sword, good steel for even a well trained knight, and he couldn't figure why. She didn't seem like a fighter, much less someone who could kill.
"How…how many times have you died?" She asked.
"Thousands."
Her face went blank, and she tucked her hands between her armpits trying to warm them.
"How? How could you possibly endure that much pain?"
He grew a puzzled look, asking, "Are you not Soulless? Surely you've suffered the same way with your party of Ember."
She shook her head. "I've died twice. Once, wherever I was in the world we came from, then again right before I finally escaped the dungeon with Allison and Arthur."
"Dungeon? What dungeon?"
"It's where others awaken, anyone who doesn't rise within the swamps."
Now what the fuck in the gods' earth gave them the right to start somewhere that wasn't a shit steaming ogre pond? He tried to hide his frustration, but Dany leaned away from him as his jaw tightened.
"I see," he said, making his voice gentle as possible. "You've not been tested. When you have no choice but to fight, the pain becomes the least of your worries."
She clenched her sword hand. "I've fought. We all did, we three."
"What champion did you kill to escape the dungeon?"
"There was no champion," she answered, holding her head down. "Just walking corpses, a few giant rats, and…dogs."
"Dogs?"
"Yes. Dozens of them."
She covered her sword hand, but her entire body was trembling.
"Draw your sword," he said.
She hesitated at first, but half drew her blade, looking towards the withered fire where Allison and Arthur slept.
"Fuck them, draw your sword," he said, almost demanding.
Dany drew, her steel with a slight glimmer to it even within a fog filled wood. The air was darkening, a slight hint of red in the sky, and she held her sword firm, fighting the urge to shake.
"Whenever you think of death, pull that out," he said, touching his flail's hilt. "That's the only thing that matters."
She looked at him, then at her blade. Her sword hand didn't tremble as much, and their was a sudden sharpness in her eyes.
"Now then," he said, cracking his neck, "Can you at least give me a clue, what the hell your glorious leader wants out here?"
Dany opened her mouth, but gasped as Arthur stepped from the other side of the tree.
"Pardon me! Wasn't trying to interrupt you love birds!" He laughed.
Dany must've been red as the sunset, so many shadows looming it was difficult to tell. She sheathed her sword and hurried away, tucking her cloak over herself.
Arthur gave his shoulder a light slap. "I never would've expected Dany to warm up to someone so daunting to everyone else. You really are an interesting one!"
"She's an odd one. As are the lot of you."
Arthur laughed, pulling out his flask, "Now that's refreshing! You certainly weren't a yes man in your former life."
They shared a few sips, and while he wanted to press the issue of what their purpose was on the front, he stopped caring as the woods went dark.
It was a quiet night, just a few horns or swords clanging.
No claws, roars, brimstone, or blood screams, and he was certain he'd die of boredom.
Fog was thickening, and they'd not reach the cliffs anytime soon.
It'd be a miracle if they ever found their way out, along with every other army.