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Chapter 21: To Kill a Llort
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“It was around that time in his life that contemporary historians mark as the beginning of his awakening and subsequent transformation. From all accounts he was a passive, well-mannered though mysterious man. Afterwards, one can easily observe a slow metamorphosis and mark an acute predisposition towards violence. This continues for some time, its gradual ending heralded by the third advent.” ~ From: “The Rise and Fall of Ancient Emperors” by Porissiam, 933 A.P.
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“Five hundred meters that way,” Logan said, keeping his voice low as he pointed with his sword in front of him. “Not that we’ll be getting there any time soon. I forgot how dense it got this far in.”
Synec nodded, then headed off in the direction he’d indicated, disappearing into the foliage. His swift steps made only the faintest noise as he ducked away, moving with a speed Logan wouldn’t have been able to match in the thick forest.
They moved in a wedge with Logan at the point, Huck behind and to his left, Ryan behind to the right, and Tarn taking the rear. Synec stayed several yards in front of their formation, keeping watch and scanning for enemies as they moved through the oppressive forest.
It was late morning, and the sun was high and bright overhead. In the forest however, under the thick canopies of the towering, densely packed trees, little light penetrated to the ground where they stalked between the tall trunks, trying their best to keep to the open spaces between the goliath trees. Roots rose like walls several feet high, obscuring their vision and causing them to either divert off course or climb directly over them, reducing their speed to a crawl.
When he and Ryan had chased the Brightwood Deer they’d simply followed its path between the roots. Now, however, they had a destination in mind, and obstacles in their way.
Wet dirt squelched underfoot as Logan lifted a hand to a boulder in front of him. It was perhaps twenty feet tall, and though he knew that Synec would’ve reported anything of note in their vicinity, he wanted to climb it, gain a vantage point, and observe their surroundings.
The cold rock was covered in lichen and dirt, and he had trouble gaining purchase with his fingers. Sticking them between cracks was his only way up, and he was thankful for the leather gloves that Lusal had included in his uniform order, saving his fingers from the rock’s bite.
With his increased strength and dexterity, the climbing took little effort, and soon he hefted himself over the ledge above him and onto the boulder’s summit.
The forest floor spread beneath him, a mottled landscape of boulders, dirt, brush, thick, tubular roots, and patches of the exotic mushrooms he’d discovered on his first venture this far with Ryan.
The boy saw him atop the rock and lifted an arm in a wave towards him.
He continued to scan behind him, and located Huck and Tarn as well, each keeping their spacing in the dispersed formation.
He sunk low, wary of falling and of being spotted by any of the creatures that were sure to be lurking unseen in the forest. It didn’t feel hostile exactly, but his skin prickled with the sensation of being watched. It’d started shortly after they’d entered the inner forest, demarcated by the increase in size of the trees surrounding them; they changed from what could’ve passed for large pine or fir trees into towering behemoths that dwarfed even the Giant Sequoias of California.
Craning his neck upwards, Logan made out the bottom layer of the canopy incredibly far above. Needles drifted towards the ground, and he attempted to analyze one.
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??? Level: ???
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No dice.
He felt a shiver, like a phantom passing behind him, and whipped his head around. He was sure someone or something had been looking at him, but he couldn’t place where. Branches twisted around the straight trunks of the trees, some wrapping in grand spirals around their bodies, others extending between trees or ending in even more fraying branches and bright green needles.
Anything could be hiding in the roots on the forest floor, in the branches above and all around him, or even in the canopy high overhead. Every slithering root and hulking boulder, every bristling bush and foreboding shadow, anything could be hiding unseen watchers.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Hunching his shoulders, Logan scurried down the boulder and rejoined the formation in his position at its head. He suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable. Were they in over their heads? Was this really even worth it?
Logan shook his head and found Huck and Ryan, crouching in a watchful stance some distance away, behind and to either side. He made eye contact with them, then signaled with his arm to move forwards. Silent hand and arm signals were something he’d picked up from some of the military books he’d read back home, and he was glad that he had. He was no master tactician, but anything helped. He’d asked Synec if he’d like to lead them, but the scout said that among his order, the “Sellis,” they only ever worked alone, attached as auxiliary recon units to a pre-existing squad and he wasn’t fit for a leadership role. So it’d fallen to Logan.
Maybe I should have him scout behind us, too, look out for anyone trailing us.
“Logan!”
He jumped, gripping his sword with white knuckles as his shoulders rose to his ears.
“Fuck, Mikey! You scared me. What?”
“Oh, sorry I guess. What’s that sensation in your fecal orifice? It feels like, tight or something. Are you squeezing it?”
“Dude what the fuck? My asshole?”
“Yeah, it’s puckering or something, is that normal? I’m just looking out for you, no need to get all defensive about it. I thought you might be developing some sort of health condition. In my training we learned that lots of humans die because they don’t notice their diseases until it’s too late.”
“Thanks? It’s not that. I’m just tense.”
“Did you sleep wrong?”
“Now’s not the time Mikey. Plus, you’re literally in my head, wouldn’t you know if I slept wrong?”
Logan lifted himself over a log, placing his perfectly normal ass on the damp wood and swinging his legs over, then dropping three feet and landing in a quiet crouch. He paused, looked to either side for a moment, then continued. Two rows of small toadstools glowed with a faint, pulsating red and purple light under the rounded overhang of the log behind him.
“Oh-kay partner, out of sight out of mind.”
Logan halted for a moment and cocked his head, a perplexed expression on his face.
“What?”
“I’m just saying that once in a blue moon I’ll zip my lips, it’s nothing but a thing. This will be a piece of cake, Logan!”
“I don’t know if you’re trying to confuse or encourage me, but thanks. I need to concentrate, but keep your eyes peeled, something's definitely off.
"Keep my eyes peeled? That's just gross. You're right though, something is definitely watching us."
Logan chuckled as he ducked between two bushes. They'd have to worry about their tail later, they were too close to the llort's den to deal with it now.
Logan opened his map. The waypoint in front of him, a faintly glowing white dot in his vision with an ever-decreasing number below it had reached one hundred meters, and he zoomed in on the llort’s alcove, looking for the entrance. It seemed that there were three: the one that he and Ryan had followed the deer into was on the southeast side of the roughly circular copse, and there was another on the opposite side. The third was northward.
He closed his map and raised his left arm, gyrating it in small circles. Rendezvous.
Huck, Ryan, and Tarn joined him in a few moments, and they sheltered on the north side of a tall root that looped around them like a shallow U, protecting their backs and sides. A minute or so later, Synec appeared from the brush, dark cloak hiding all but his face.
They gathered around him, and he retrieved one of the maps he’d hand copied of the llort’s lair days before. They huddled over the paper as he used his knife to trace their route and indicate the entrance they’d be using. Southeast, where he and Ryan had entered the first time. It was the closest, and most easily accessible.
Pressed so closely together, Logan could smell the sweat and musk of the other men, distinct in the forest’s clean air. Their breathing, the mist from their mouths, the scuffing noises of boots and knees against dirt and twigs. They were alive, together. How many of them wouldn’t be in just a few short minutes?
Logan tightened his grip on the knife.
“Synec, as we’ve already discussed, you’ll take point. Determine if entry is safe, and if it is, we’ll follow after you. If the llort’s outside of its cave, we’ll spread out and surround it in groups of two. Don’t fire until we’re all in position. I’ll be with Tarn, Huck and Ryan you’ll be together, and Synec, you’ll be alone,” Logan said, looking up from the map to Synec.
The tall man returned his gaze, a smile pealing the lips of his grim countenance. He loves this, Logan realized, suddenly a bit more confident. He hadn’t shared much about himself, but this seemed to be what he was made for, scouting, sneaking about, and fighting alone. Synec nodded at him, and Logan continued.
“If it’s inside the cave, then we’ll find cover with line of sight on its opening. From there, we’ll determine how to proceed. If we have the benefit of time, then Synec, I’d like for you to place your traps around the cave’s mouth before we start firing inside. Our goal is to kill this thing without having to engage it up close. If we do, however, Tarn will take the lead and I’ll back him up. Huck, Ryan, and Synec, stay behind for as long as possible keeping us covered with arrows. Any questions?”
Logan looked around the group, holding the eyes of each of them one at a time.
No one said anything. He stabbed the center of the map, the spot where he’d drawn a red X over the llort’s cave, with his knife.
“Right. Synec, go on ahead. We’ll be following close behind. Let’s go kill us a Llort.”
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Graknul gnashed his teeth. They were midnight black and sharpened, filed to points that fit together, top and bottom, like the jaws of a beartrap. He adjusted his grip on the short spear in his gnarled green hands, twisting them towards each other then away; a habit of his when he was anxious. In Great General Barr Amar’s Forest, that was almost never, but since the appearance of the humans hunting the Brightwood Deer, he’d been on edge.
I should’ve told him… but he’d kill me for letting them go. And now they’re back! The disgusting human shit-spawn are back!
He grimaced and turned from the forest floor beneath him, retreating along the high tree-branch ledge where he’d been perched, stalking the group’s progress.
Raxar followed close behind, his short bow at his side.
“What will we do, Grak?”
The snilbog’s armor, hardened leather strips tied and clamped around rings of metal and sewn with lines of dried animal bones, tinkled softly as he walked behind his squad leader.
Graknul turned his smashed, impudent nose upwards, sniffing.
“Storm’s coming. We’ll wait for it, then slaughter them. Get the others.”
His words were short and guttural, grating and garbled. To human ears, they would’ve sounded primitive and incomprehensible.
Raxar grinned, revealing his own sharpened teeth, and licked his thin green lips with a pointed tongue. He shouldered past Graknul, jogging across the thick branch and disappearing into a crevice that led down inside the tree.
One of them has the smell. It’s faint, barely detectable, but it’s there. One of the first two? Or one of the newcomers?
Graknul slammed the butt of his spear into the wood at his feet and let out a hissing growl from the back of his throat.
Curse them! Damn human trash, vermin, scum—
He punched the tree, splitting the thin skin between his knuckles. Dark maroon blood oozed out like dirty oil. He sucked the wound, then spat over the side of the branch.
How dare they trespass? Graknul’s squad will deal with this trash before Amar learns of this. He must never learn of this. I’ll kill them all and feed their corpses to the spiders.