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Chapter 22: The Shape of Death
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"Before the Protectorate, the great war of the Center Realms, and the seven ancient races and their attendant dogmas, before even the planets, stars, and the gods themselves: there was but one. His name remains, but his identity is a mystery lost to the sands of a time before time." ~ From "A Discourse on The Stranger" by Avicus Nividicus Anticellus, 433 A.P.
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"Oh, take this," Logan said, retrieving the potion of moderate instant recovery that he'd saved for this occasion and handing it to Synec.
The Sellis's eyes widened, and he looked from the glass vial in Logan's hand, its clear red liquid glinting in a ray of sunlight, to his face.
"Are you sure? If this is a health potion as I suspect, they're extremely valuable and rare... especially here."
"Moderate instant recovery, and yes, I'm sure. You're going in first, you should be the one to have it."
Tarn and Huck looked at the potion in Logan's hand with an astonishment tinged by envy.
Synec nodded curtly and took the vial without any more argument, tucking it into a pocket in his cloak.
Logan retrieved the three lesser healing potions and distributed them to each of the others.
"And these are for each of you. With the bandages, the ointment we distributed last night, and these, we're as ready as we'll ever be. I have more healing supplies in reserve, but let's hope we don't need them."
Synec was the first to leave their alcove in the root shelter, disappearing into the underbrush as he headed towards the copse of tightly packed trees that marked the llort's lair in the near distance.
A few minutes later, Logan, Huck, Ryan and Tarn followed after him.
Logan eyed the trees around them, noticing for the first time since entering the forest the silvery spiderwebs that spread out like great nets between branches both low and high. He recalled seeing them on their first visit, and thoughts of massive spiders lowering themselves from the canopy above, silent and unseen, plagued his mind.
They stalked through the forest, everything seeming to grow quiet as they approached the opening to the dense wall of trees that enclosed the llort's camp. Thorny brambles split ahead of them, revealing the entrance that Ryan and Logan had chased the Brightwood Deer through what felt like a lifetime ago.
Huck approached the entrance, crouched low and bow half raised before him. He poked his head through, then pulled it back out and motioned for the others to join him.
"Synec's just inside. Llort's out of the cave, looks like it's eating something. Boar maybe. It's facing away from us."
Logan nodded, then took a deep breath to calm his racing nerves.
"Okay. We'll stick with the plan. Synec will move ahead and loop around to the left. Huck and Ryan, swing right. Tarn, we'll find cover just in front of the entrance. Use the arrow profile we discussed last night; we'll shoot on my signal."
They all nodded at each other, then Ryan joined Huck in front of Logan and Tarn, preparing to cross the threshold into the llort's domain. Ryan glanced back, and Logan met his eyes. They shined with an excited glimmer. Ryan smiled at him, then he and Huck were gone beyond the bush.
After around fifteen minutes, though to Logan it felt like an eternity, Logan nodded at Tarn. Huck and Ryan should be set; now it was their turn.
"Let's see this creature you've brought us all the way out 'ere for. Better be good, mate," Tarn said, his dark, full lips splitting into a toothy smile.
He thwapped Logan on the back, then lifted his bow, moving through the gap in the bushes, the beads in his hair tinkling softly as he walked.
Logan let out a long, slow breath, then followed behind him.
Tarn had found a waist-high hump, the exposed curve of a root exiting then reentering the ground, a few yards beyond the entrance and had taken a knee behind it, bow in his hand beside him.
Logan crept to a protruding rock near him and knelt, focusing his eyes to the light. The interior of the thicket was darker than the rest of the forest, and he strained his eyes, penetrating the dim light, searching for the llort.
It didn't take long before his sight was drawn to the slowly churning jaws of the llort, sitting on its stump, gnawing on the bloodied leg that was once a brightspine boar.
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Forest Llort | Level 12
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Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Susie's voice was firm and serious, its airy condescension completely absent.
The Llort sat facing mostly away from them, but from his position he could see it at a slight side angle, its figure a looming silhouette. The llort's club, a shaft of wood at least thirty feet long and four or five feet thick imbedded with rusted orange rods, lay in the dirt at its side. The sight of the burly, blue-grey skinned goliath was like deja vu to Logan, and he shivered at the remembered panic of his first encounter with the creature.
This time will be different. We can do this.
Tarn glanced at Logan, who nodded. Tarn faced the front, drew an arrow from his quiver—the single white feather in its fletching indicated that it was of the paralytic variety—and knocked it to his bow.
Logan knocked a blue blood arrow, took aim, and breathed out. His body tingled with nervous energy, and he did all that he could to calm his nerves and still his shaking hands. He began counting. He'd wait a few more minutes, just to make sure that the others were ready, then begin.
The llort tilted its head upwards, craning its neck as it placed the boar leg into its mouth, closed its teeth around the flesh, and pulled upwards on the bone. The legbone slid from the llort's jaws, clean of meat, and he tossed it aside. The llort lowered its head and placed its hands on its knees, looking as if it might stand.
Logan released the arrow.
He watched it connect with the llort's jaw, just below a distinctive protruding yellow tusk, and tear into the tight skin covering its teeth. Boiling blue gel, the Steam Fish's blood, splattered across a portion of the Llort's cheek and began burning where it adhered to the flesh. The steamfish blood was a darker shade than the llort's tinged grey skin, and Logan could see it digging into the creature's face, burning holes as it went.
Logan quickly knocked another arrow, watching as another impacted the llort's face. This was a sand-bead arrow of the green gaseous variety fired from his left. Synec. Another arced through the air from his right, exploding into a cloud of noxious fumes as it connected with the Llort's face. A moment later, the burning combustion of the blue blood and the gas from the sand beads reacted, and a powerful explosion shook the ground and sent shockwaves through the air.
They were expecting it, however, and continued firing on the llort from all directions, sending volleys of arrows at the sitting giant.
The gaseous cloud had been consumed in the explosion, and the fiery aftermath enveloped the llort's head, briefly obscuring their vision of it. From within the flame, the llort roared, a terrifying, booming sound that shook the trees and reverberated inside Logan's body.
The llort stood, a motion that looked deceptively slow due to its immense size and height. As it straightened, its head rose from the cloud and Logan looked in horror at the wound they'd caused. The left side of the llort's bottom jaw was gone, its lower mandible along with a good portion of its cheek and chin had been blown apart, leaving a gaping hole on the bottom half of its face. Dark blood closer to black than red poured from its face, pumping from the hideous wound in great spurts to fall several tens of feet to the forest floor below.
Burning blue blood arrows, gaseous sand-orb arrows, and those coated in paralytic poison flew one after the other at the llort. With its terrific size it made an easy target, and arrows landed with gouts of blue flame, poisonous gas, and spats of blood. Several arrows imbedded themselves in the llort's torso and arm, with a lucky few finding its neck.
It raised an arm, shielding against the onslaught as it scooped up its club with its other hand. Roaring again, it charged forwards, rushing towards the tree where Synec sat perched in a branch, intentionally revealing himself in open sight of the enraged beast.
Synec fired arrow after arrow at the oncoming giant, aiming paralytic attacks at one of the llort's legs. It was too far away from Huck and Ryan to hit with accuracy, so they fired high, arcing gas and fire arrows in an attempt to land explosions on the llort's back. Logan and Tarn, realizing what Synec was attempting to do, also fired paralytic shots at its legs.
The explosions had far less effect on the llort's body than on its face, the thicker skin of its arms, chest, and back easily weathering the blasts. The adhesive, napalm-like blood burned away at the llort's skin, but it was too insignificant to cause debilitating damage to the creature unless they hit sensitive areas. They'd hoped to end it with the first volley, but their plan had quickly failed, and now they had to improvise before the tides turned for the worst.
The llort was quickly closing in on Synec's position in the branches; running at a sprint, its long, thickly muscled legs carried it tens of feet with each loping stride. The llort was only seconds from the tree now, and it raised its club behind it, twisting its body in a furious swing upwards at the branches, level with its head, where Synec was standing.
The strength of the swing combined with the momentum of the llorts charge resulted in a strike of ferocious power as the studded club whipped through the air, cutting through the space in flash. Logan's face furrowed in a snarl, and he fired arrow after ineffectual arrow, his heart pounding even as it sank at Synec's inevitable death.
Then, as if suddenly severed at the tendon, the llorts left knee gave out, finally giving in to the dozens of paralytic arrows sprouting from its leg like darts on a board. The club slammed into the tree where the branch connected, visibly shaking it, and severing the branch where Synec stood. The llort stumbled forwards, carried by the weight of his swing and the buckling of his knee, hitching forwards, and falling towards the ground.
A figure emerged from the explosion of bark and splinters where the llort's club had impacted the tree. Synec sailed through the air, cloak billowing as he performed a wide, arcing forwards flip behind the collapsing llort, releasing two arrows simultaneously from his bow as he fell.
The arrows struck the back of the llort's exposed neck in tandem, only feet away from Synec, causing a violent explosion of burning blue blood and fire.
Synec covered himself in his cloak, bracing against the explosion as it detonated, propelling him rocketing through the air. He flew, tumbling in the air, then collided into the earth. He struck the dirt towards the center of the clearing, bounced, then rolled for several seconds before losing momentum and settling to a stop. He lay still, a mangled heap of man and cloak, his bow lost in the flight.
Logan stopped shooting, his mouth agape. Synec had baited the llort into charging him, then flipped over its back to land a shot at its spine, risking himself in the explosion, all after intentionally exposing himself to it as the one it would attack first.
What the hell is a Sellis, and where did that determination come from? And is he alive?
Logan stared at Synec's unmoving form. He lay in the center of the camp near the llort's tree-stump seat, not far from the mouth of the cave. He and Tarn were the closest to the llort now and would be between them if they moved to help. Just as he thought of how to get to their exposed companion, Ryan burst from the bushes on the far side of the clearing, sprinting towards the stump and Synec with Huck close on his heels.
No! What are they doing?
They were making good time, sprinting hard, but still had several hundred feet between themselves and the center of the clearing.
"We have to cover them!" Logan shouted, abandoning all pretense of stealth.
He returned his focus to the llort, whom he saw now in horror, was standing, club in hand, murderous eyes fixed on Synec's limp body. The llort raised a hand to the back of its neck where a deep gouge of flesh had been blown away by the explosion, and exposed muscle now burned and bled.
It looked at its hand, gnarled, meaty fingers and palm covered in its own thick, blackish maroon blood. It roared once more, this time louder than the last, and tried to run towards Synec. Its leg didn't hold its weight completely, buckling and wobbling as it stepped, causing the llort to move with an awkward, ambling gait, somewhere between a walk and a jog.
Although it was severely wounded, the surface of its body coated in burning, napalm-like blood, pockmarked by small gouges from many minor explosions, and stuck full of arrows, it still possessed enough strength to pulverize them with even a glancing blow. Bleeding, burning, and stumbling, the llort strode towards where Synec lay, every lumbering step carrying the promise of death.
Seeing its approach, Ryan and Huck increased their speed. They ran full tilt, an all-out sprint. But even if they reached Synec in time, how could they carry him to safety?
Logan and Tarn fired at the llort as fast as they could, desperately trying to kill it, draw its attention, or distract it even for a moment from its single-minded advance. The llort glared at them and raised its arm to shield itself but didn't falter. They couldn't stop it from finishing Synec, then potentially killing Huck and Ryan. Not like this.
Fuck, Fuck! God damn it!
Logan placed his bow into his inventory and moved from behind the boulder. He looked at Tarn, his expression one of pleading panic and desperation.
"Tarn—"
Tarn stood, still looking towards the clearing and the impending clash of men and beast, and leaned his bow against the root he'd been using for cover.
"You don' even 'ave to ask, kid. This is what I came for, after all. Never much liked usin' bows anyways."
He removed two long chains from the belt beneath his sand-colored robes, each adjoined at one end to a straight metal rod the length of a baton and at the other to an intricate head of metal with four sharpened, hook-like blades, a short spike between them at its top.
Tarn glanced over his shoulder at Logan, who nodded at him.
They crouched, leaning forwards like sprinters, and broke into a run.