M. Mathias - Through the Wildwood

Vanx turned to see Quazar standing over Gallarael. He was clutching his pack tightly to his body with one arm, and with a kick of his boot he shoved Trevin away. After a few wild hand gestures that left his pack falling to his feet, a pristine lavender orb encapsulated them as it came sizzling into existence. The wizard fell to a collapsed heap next to the girl, but both of them, and the wizard’s components, were within the protective bounds of the magical field.

Darbon, who was as naked as his name day, was fighting to get free from a tangle of blankets. Matty stood over him looking as fierce as could be with a dagger in her hand, waving her stump arm around threateningly.

Trevin scrambled for a pack and came up with his longsword as a handful of the wolf-riding Kobalts bounded into the camp.

At first it wasn’t clear to any of the companions what was going on, but when one of the ogres came thrashing through the trees right at Matty it became clearer.

A trio of Kobalt arrows sprouted out of the ogre’s chest, but they did little to slow its momentum. With its fangs bared, and its filthy jagged claws reared back, the ten-foot-tall green beast dove for the woman just as Darbon gained his feet beside her.

Vanx could do nothing for them. It didn’t appear that Trevin could either, for another of the huge grey-green flesh-eaters was attacking the young guardsman before he could bring his sword to bear against it.

Vanx leapt to the back of the young haulkat. He had half a mind to just ride away and leave the humans to their fate. He was half Zythian after all, and these people had made him a slave. He owed them nothing.

He loosed an arrow at the ogre attacking Trevin. The young haulkatten nearly toppled Vanx from his seat when it charged at another ogre, and opened its guts with a razor claw. Holding on as best as he could with his legs, Vanx loosed arrow after arrow into the violent chaos. When he was down to the last shaft, he held it and let the haulkatten do the fighting. It was all Vanx could do at that point just to hold on.

Vanx let his last arrow fly at the howling ogre closing on him from the right. It was no easy shot. The young haulkat beneath him was tearing into the green-skinned hulk directly before them with a ferocious intensity. Still, Vanx’s arrow found its mark. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a massive arm-like limb of the tree beast swing down and bat the ogre attacking Matty and Darbon away from them. With a dagger raised high, Matty rushed in and attacked the bewildered ogre as soon as it hit the ground. Darbon threw Vanx a half-full quiver and then, snatching up a heavy stone, he joined her.

Vanx felt sorry for the boy. He’d had to fight naked himself once before behind an inn in Andwyn, after he’d leapt from his lover’s window. He’d won the skirmish, but would never forget how vulnerable he felt with his manhood exposed and at risk. It occurred to him, as he shifted to compensate for the haulkatten’s next lunge, that he always had these odd thoughts while he was in a fix. Here he was with an outraged, arrow-riddled ogre charging at him from one side, and another still fighting his mount. There was a third ogre now, loping toward him with nothing less than hungry murder in its dark eyes, but all he could think about was how silly Darbon looked fighting naked and one-handed. He turned toward the approaching ogre and let a pair of arrows loose. One caught the edge of a tree trunk and exploded in a shower of splinters and chipped bark. The other, though, found its mark and stuck deep into the ogre’s abdomen. The feral creature had no idea that it was wounded and it charged onward, never even breaking stride.

Vanx reached for another arrow and found that the quiver was empty. He didn’t panic. Oddly, the more tense the situation, the calmer he felt. It was one of the qualities about him that his trainers had all praised. The ogre bearing down on him was in a bloody rage. Vanx reached to his hip and found that his dagger wasn’t in its place. His immediate suspicion was confirmed when he saw that Matty was using it. Once a thief always a thief. He’d had a sword, a long, thin work of Zythian steel that his mother’s father had given him before he left on his vision quest. No doubt it was hanging in Duke Martin’s trophy room next to his mounted bears and wolves. Vanx knew he had to do something, so he did what instinctually came to his mind.

As the ogre came rushing up, Vanx heeled the haulkatten sharply. The alert young beast leapt into a sideways twisting sprawl that only those of the feline persuasion can manage. The ogre’s grasping claws closed on nothing but air. The enraged beast couldn’t stop its momentum, though, and it smacked face first into an ancient oak tree with a skull-cracking crunch.

Vanx laughed out loud. His mirth was cut off quickly, though, when a blow caught him in the ribs and took his breath. He went flailing from the haulkatten and the startled animal jumped away from the unseen attacker. Vanx was left dazed and looking up at another ogre. This one held a club over its head and was already bringing it down to smash him. Unable to clear the cobwebs from his mind, Vanx held his arms up in a feeble attempt to ward away the blow.

Trevin was drenched in thick, dripping gore. He had caught the jugular of one of the ogres with his sword and had been sprayed as its hot, sticky life pulsed out of the wound. He fought like a madman, as if defeating this enemy might ease his anguish or save his lover. Beside him, a few of the wolf-riding Kobalts were fighting the ogres too. Blood slung from glistening steel and filthy claws alike. Both fang and arrow bit into flesh, and the savage snarling of the wolves mixed with the roaring ogres to create a terrible din. Several hulking forms already lay dead at Trevin’s feet, and another was on him before he could take a breath. He heard Matty call out for Vanx and was surprised that she’d survived the initial attack. The weight of the diving beast alone should have crushed her and Darbon. He couldn’t concern himself with that, though. He was getting tired, and the beast before him was just agile enough to stay clear of his blade. This ogre had a weapon, that is if you consider a severed arm of one of its kindred as such.

Matty yelled at Darbon, and Trevin’s eyes followed her pointing finger to where Vanx was struggling. Darbon went streaking as fast as he could to help. He was cut, ripped open across his back. Trevin knew that the boy couldn’t feel it because the rush of the moment was keeping the pain at bay. Had the boy felt the pain of such a wound, it would have been debilitating.

Matty saw the gash as Darbon ran naked across the camp to help Vanx. It made her heart clench. She looked away just in time to see one of the ogres reach for the pack the wizard was clutching to his chest. The explosion of light and heat that occurred burned her eyes horribly. The sound and smell of wizard fire and charring flesh was acrid and hard to stomach. When the hair-raising intensity of the magic subsided, Matty found that she still couldn’t see. Only silvery flashes and swirls of light appeared in her eyes. The sensation scared her so badly that she screamed. The relative silence that followed was more frightening than the battle had been. Now, only a few grunting combatants could be heard, but she had no idea who or what they were.

Darbon didn’t get blinded by the wizard’s magic because he was racing away from it. He saw what it did to Vanx, though. The slave-turned-friend was looking around aimlessly and fighting not to touch his burned orbs. Darbon felt hot blood running down his back though.