The thick black branch, shifted as Fang shouldered it out of the way, scattering a dusting of crystalline snow. The krag's efforts were rewarded by the sight of his destination. Up ahead, through several paces of deep, snow-choked forest, stood the marker. It was a humble pole forged from black iron with a long piece of sun-bleached cloth, bearing the familiar sign of the claimed tied to it, flapping in the wind like a flag.
It was a crude declaration but it did its job. They weren't the only band moving around in the wilderness lately.
Beside the marker, there was the hidden path they'd discovered after being sent out, its entrance to a place they didn't have information on. He could still remember it like it had been yesterday, while in fact it had been three weeks ago.
While out surveying the small, fortified cities clinging to the edges of the wilds, he with is group and his new partner, the insufferable welp whom Arieus had unceremoniously dumped on him, had stumbled across a new path in the forest. After a brief talk with his veteran scouts, they had decided a brief expedition was necessary to scope it out.
But that had to happen after they completed the mission Arieus has given him. But now that he had....
"Stop standing there and blocking the way, you welp!" Fang's voice rang out. "There are people behind you, and they don't want to stand in the middle of the cold woods all day, just so you can take in the scenery and dream of glory." Fang scowled at the young krag at the front of the group.
Talon growled in annoyance, but he reluctantly started walking forward again, his fur boots crunching loudly in the snow till, he had stepped out from beneath the dense forest canopy and into the light of the twin suns. He turned around and watched as the rest of the group emerged from the trees, blinking against the sudden glare.
"Why didn't you take the lead if you're in such a hurry? Are you scared Blood Fang?" he shot back at the older spear wielder.
"Because if someone was going to walk into an ambush set by a dire wolf or blunder into an Erin's den, it should be the arrogant welp who seems so desperately eager to die at my spear tip," Blood Fang replied, as his lips peeling back into a savage grin.
Talon growled again while stifling his building fury. He had been forcibly partnered with Fang, one of the four claws of Arieus, to scout the cities along the wilds edges, a two-week trek from their base. It was a clear move to get rid of him for a while since he had made it abundantly clear, he wanted to challenge for Arieus's position.
"I scouted this path already. There are no wolf tracks of any kind, fresh or old," Talon scoffed, gesturing vaguely at the pristine snow. "And you don't just walk into Erins. They are not some common forest pest." He grinned back, his tusk flashing out. "And even if you did see one, it would probably attack the weakest target first. Are you perhaps worried you are the weakest here?"
"Hear that, Ogaga?" Fang remarked, his grin widening as he turned to the lanky krag. "The welp thinks he is the strongest here. Does that lofty assessment make you the second strongest, then?"
"Ha ha, so funny," Ogaga replied in a flat, distracted manner. The slim, tall, light green krag wasn't paying full attention, his keen ember eyes were continuously scanning the nearby snow-covered bushes and the shadows between the trees, his body tense awareness.
"No wonder the boss sent him with you, Fang. This one is a real piece of work," a female krag's voice added, rich with amusement, as she walked out of the woods and into the clearing.
Soon, everyone had gathered in the clearing. Which was just a circle of trampled snow dominated by the strange, looking plants that choked the unknown path's entrance. The flora looked like a strange mix between a mushroom and a sunflower; fleshy, closed petals the color of old bone sat atop thick, spongy stalks, swaying in the faint breeze.
There were two dozen krags in their group, a mix of seasoned warriors and eager youngbloods, and five human porters, who huddled together for warmth and reassurance. Fang watched as everyone began to settle down, unpacking gear as they got ready to enter.
Most of them were handpicked by Fang himself from the band. That meant they were all sharp, skilled, and ruthlessly competent in what they did best, their continued survival a testament to their abilities.
Namaisa, the female krag who had spoken, was acting as their guide and was holding up the rear of the group. She was a normal sized female krag with sharp, elegant features, a well-shaped, powerfully built body, and a cascade of long, black hair that was intricately tied back in a series of tight, practical braids.
She was a skilled scout and huntress, second only to the likes of Varga and Dana. So, having her sharp eyes and sharper instincts around had added a layer of reassurance to him, against the ever-present dangers even if it was unlikely this close to human civilization.
But one must never test the white wilds of the North; its hospitality was a lie, and its patience was finite.
"We will set up here," Fang gave his command, as he started unpacking his own heavy leather bag, the buckles clinking softly.
The group of them spent the next hour setting up their camp. When they were done, a small, defensible perimeter had been established, and Fang called a meeting near the path's eerie entrance to decide who would venture into the unknown to see where it led.
"I'll be going with you then," Namaisa told them, checking the edge of a curved knife at her belt. "I have nothing better to do, and the dark holds fewer secrets from me than from most."
"I will be going too, of course," exclaimed Talon, his arms folded tightly around his chest, his posture radiating impatience and pride.
"I will be staying here," Ogaga replied, his gaze still roaming the tree line. "Someone has to keep watch."
Talon looked like he wanted to say something, but Fang cut him off, his voice leaving no room for argument.
"It's a good idea to have someone patrolling the woods. Just make sure nothing dangerous wanders into camp while we are gone."
Ogaga gave a nod. Talon was scowling, but Fang ignored him. There was no point in speaking to a welp who didn't understand that everyone had their uses, that strength wasn't always about who swung the hardest axe. Ogaga was the best trap master the band had, a genius with snares, deadfalls, and poison triggers. The way he commanded the environment was a sight to see.
Of course, Fang had to have him in his group; his cunning was a weapon as potent as any spear.
Torches were brought out of their packs. These torches were different from the ones they usually used, which were just simple cloths smeared in the humans' foul-smelling black water they called oil. These ones were thicker, sturdier, made from a new, experimental mixture of rendered beast fat and distilled wood water that burned with a cleaner, brighter, and far steadier flame. He had heard the new torches were inspired from some contraption of Varga's new pet.
The thought made him chuckle inwardly. A ratling with ideas; it was too funny.
The krags approached the path, the entrance was like a maw of darkness, as if it led into one of those old, cursed paths of the north where ancient monsters rested in frozen slumber. It was his job in this mission to make sure all paths the band would take in this part of the edges were secure, so he had to extinguished all doubt, and this unknown entrance was doubt.
"The first thing we'll have to do is make a proper perimeter around the entrance," Namaisa remarked, her hands on her hips as she stared critically at the snowy clearing, already planning its defense.
"We can dig a shallow trench around the entrance and cut down some of the smaller, deader trees for a rough fence," Ogaga responded, his mind already working through the logistics. "We don't know how long we are going to stay here, or what might be drawn to this place."
"Then let's get it done." Fang gave out the orders, and the group moved to carry them out with disciplined speed.
They all made quick work of it, the sounds of chopping and digging breaking the forest's solemn hush, and by the time the twin suns reached their peak in the bleached sky, casting weak, elongated shadows, they were done and ready to march in.
Fang nodded to the volunteers and gave final orders to the rest to wait, and to keep their wits about them. Then, he and eight others, six krags including the Talon and the watchful Namaisa, and two of the more steady-nerved human porters, marched into the dark entrance, which was framed by hard, dark branches that seemed unnaturally woven together, as if grown for this purpose.
Talon predictably, went to the front again. Fang found it amusing how the welp so badly wanted to prove, to everyone and no one, that he was brave.
It is expected for all krag warriors to be brave; it is the bare minimum. But those that actually survive long enough to become the truly strong, must also have a deep well of cunning and the sense to know when best to hold back, to watch, and to evaluate danger before leaping. This is probably why Arieus sent this welp to me.
Fang chuckled to himself at the thought of what bloody, intricate plans the war chieft had simmering for him.
The first thing he noticed as they stepped into the entrance was the immediate absence of the twin suns' light. It was severed, vanishing as if a curtain had fallen behind them, and everything grew profoundly dark, the air becoming still and heavy. They lit their torches, the new flames sputtering to life with a confident hiss, and one by one, they were swallowed by the gloom.
All he could see was the flickering, dancing circle of light cast by his own torch, and the fleeting, phantom flashes from the others ahead of him, illuminating glimpses of the black, iron-hard trees that flanked their sides. They rose like the walls of a narrow canyon, pressing in on the group from both sides, their bark seeming to drink the light.
The second thing he noticed, with a jolt of unease, was that the place was warmer. Not warm, but distinctly less frigid than the killing cold outside. Which was strange, because they were currently in the beginning of the cold season, when the white wild was at its most merciless. Even here, closer to its more temperate edges, the air here should have been like it was outside bone chilling. This was unsettling wrong.
As they moved deeper, Fang's eyes slowly adapted to the dark, and he was greeted by the sight of a twisting, serpentine path that coiled away into the blackness. There was no sound other than the crunch of their own footsteps on the strange, gritty soil and the soft sound of their breathing. The rest of the party was strung out behind him in a line as Talon, who was in front, held his torch high, the flame solitary challenging the oppressive dark, lighting the way a few paces at a time.
The group kept moving forward at a slow, measured pace. Fang felt a thrum of excitement for what might lie ahead, the thrill of the unknown that called to every krag's spirit. But he also felt the heavy weight of responsibility; he didn't want to risk the group to any danger without good reason. Moving quickly in unknown terrain, in this swallowing darkness, was a surefire way to get yourself and your men killed.
Fang watched as the welp, probably feeling impatient and constrained by the slow pace, moved his way further ahead, his silhouette becoming hazy in the gloom, until he stopped suddenly, his body tensing, and began scanning the shadows to his left. Fang grunted in annoyance and concern, and walked up to Talon to find out what was wrong. Talon addressed Fang without turning back.
"I think there's something behind that branch," he said, gesturing with his torch towards a particularly thick, twisted limb that jutted from the wall-like tree.
Immediately, Fang's arm blured as he tossed his spear. The weapon soared through the air flying true to where Talon pointed. It hit something hiding behind one of the branches, and there was a piercing, chittering shrieking sound as something heavy and multi-limbed fell to the ground with a wet thud.
Talon quickly pointed his torch towards the wriggling, spasming form impaled on the spear's tip. Eight thin, jointed legs, covered in coarse hair, waved madly through the air as the thing flopped around uselessly for a few seconds, its movements growing progressively weaker, before it finally went limp. The creature was the size of a large dog, its body a bloated sphere covered in a glistening, frost-made capsule that was now shattered. It looked like a large, horribly malformed spider.
"Frost strider," Fang remarked, his voice flat, as he planted a foot on the carcass and removed his spear from its limp body with a wet crunch.
"It's just a small one; barely an adult, see," Namaisa responded as she came up to inspect the creature, poking it with her knife. "The adults are twice this size, and their venom can paralyze a an armoured bear."
"They like the dark, damp places like this, best to be careful and keep your eyes up as well as the path," Fang added while looking around, his gaze probing the high, unseen branches above them.
"No need to worry they prefer human flesh anyway," Namaisa added with a savage grin, her eyes glinting in the torchlight as she stared pointedly at the two human porters, who had gone pale.
"Softer to chew, they say."
"Don't scare the porters, Namaisa. If they panic and run off into the dark, you will have to be the one to carry all our gear," Fang added with a low growl and gave a warning glance at the huntress before looking at the trembling humans. "Don't worry; it's dead. It's just meat now."
The human porters didn't look convinced. They began squirming, their eyes wide with terror as they gave the frost strider's corpse nervous looks, clutching their own packs tighter.
"Cowards," Talon snorted in disgust as he kicked the corpse, sending it skittering in their direction just to watch them flinch. "It's just a frost strider. It's only really dangerous if it drops on your head from above and bites you, injecting its venom which will just paralyze you for a few hours," Talon told them, his tone dismissive. "I have seen much worse things in the deep wilds."
"You're right," Fang said, his voice low and serious, brokering an end to their lazy banter. "There are much worse things than this. So, let's not let one dead pest distract us from other, greater threats. We need to stay focused. Eyes sharp."
COKOOCOOKO!
The sound was a strange clicking call that echoed through the tunnel, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Instantly, as if a switch had been thrown, everyone went dead silent, their breaths held. Every head turned, slowly, looking back the way the sound had come from. Fang slowly held his torch up higher pushing back the darkness.
And in the newly revealed circle of light, a lot of pairs of red, glowing eyes stared back at them from the shadows, unmoving, patient, and hungry.
"Kraggroth's Beard," Fang cursed under his breath.