Yesterday's rain has left the air damp and smelling of nature. Insects of various species and sizes constantly buzzed about the trees, occasionally getting close to the lumbering orc's face to try and bite it, only to be harmlessly swatted away.
Coming into the Rolling Plains was like traveling to a new world for Draedon. All his life he had only known of the ash, rock, and magma of the Crags. To him, all the insects and beast about the land were horrid and dangerous. Nearly everything was out to eat you. But the Plains seemed so peaceful. Despite the small insects nipping at his thick skin, they didn't cause much pain, more discomfort. He'd even seen a small furred creature with a small spherical tail dart into some bushes at the sight of him. The only predatory creatures he'd seen were a smaller version of what Birdukh Ker had called ash hounds. Though the ones he fought had light brown fur rather than the black of ash hounds, and were about half the size. He was even more surprised when the pack scattered once he'd landed a particularly clean hit on one of the hound's sides. Seldom beasts in the mountains ran at the sight of their own blood; many only became more ferocious upon being injured.
Draedon knew there was a world beyond the Crags. He'd seen maps of the land beyond his home. However, this was the first he'd left the continent. He knew the world was not all ash and mountains, but he never expected it to be so strange. But he supposed he would have to get used to it. Whilst Uloth's visions had always been taken with a grain of ash- to not be taken completely seriously- what she had seen was a true prophecy. The last time something like that had happened was the shaman foreseeing the uprising Gorlag had led.
Draedon carried a pack full of various equipment. Mainly his larger-then-most bedroll, a torch he had lost on the boat ride to the Plains, and a matchbox. There were other items but they were less important. Though his most important item he'd brought along, right alongside his armor and axe, was a golden necklace baring the symbol of Tirian he'd gotten from his father. The amulet wasn't magical in any sense; simply an item from when Draedon's father traveled the land and spread the knowledge of Tirian.
Draedon was suddenly cast from his thoughts of the peaceful forest when something flew passed his nose.
He looked where the object had went to see a thin piece of sharpened bone stuck into the bark of a tree. Tied loosely to the end of the bone with twine were three feathers.
He stepped toward the object before he heard chatter in the brush behind him. He didn't understand any of the language but the words abruptly stopped as soon as he turned toward it. Draedon's eyes narrowed as he reached for the handle of his greataxe.
Before he could take the weapon from his back, another arrow of bone shot towards him from up in a tree. However, this one didn't miss, striking him on the back of his leg. In the same instance several shrill shrieks echoed through the trees as half a dozen small reptilian humanoids ran towards the orc.
Each reptile was no more than a few feet tall, hardly reaching beyond the orc's waist. Nonetheless, their numbers were concerning. The small creature rushed out from the brush Draedon was facing. One wielded a particularly thick stick with several layers of leather wrapped around its top whilst the other held a sharpened curved bone in its hand.
Draedon let go of his axe handle as the short creatures got close. The one with the makeshift club swung at his leg, however the piece of wood harmlessly bounced off of the chainmail. Draedon grabbed the creature's arm as it reared back for a second strike. He lifted the small lizardfolk off its feet with one arm before throwing it at one of its companions roughly 20 feet away who held a crudely made shortbow. Both creatures yelped in surprised as they collided, knocking both to the ground.
A sharp bone was suddenly stabbed into the back of his side. Draedon turned and grabbed the creature by the head before turning again in one motion and throwing them into a nearby tree.
His gaze cast down at the creature before him; the one which held the sharpened piece of bone. The creature looked up at the orc. His legs were shaking as he took a few steps back. He flinched as Draedon's arm reached towards him. "Wait!" it screeched. Its voice was high pitched, though whether it was from fear or just its natural voice Draedon couldn't tell. Regardless, Draedon halted.
The small lizard folk took another step back, holding his weapon clumsily on his hands. "Wait. N-no fight anymore. We surrender to you, orc." His snout chattered as he spoke. "T-the hag takes our kin if we don't supply her with bodies. We don't normally attack strangers unless p-provoked."
Draedon's brows knit together at the mention of a hag. He had never seen nor fought one, but Uloth had often been compared to one by members of Birdukh Ker in jest. From what he had heard of hags from Uloth herself, they were a dark fey whose true form was that of a mutated elderly woman of various races, though many had the ability to alter their form.
"Where is this hag? How long has it been terrorizing your... village? Tribe?" Draedon knelt to one knee to get level with the small lizard, but even so he was still a few inches above him. "What do I call you creatures; if you don't mind the question. I've never seen such small lizardfolk before."
Now it was the small creature's turn to knit their brow. "Lizardfolk? No no, we are kobolds. Distant kin of great dragons." The kobold stood up as straight as it could and put their hand on their hips. "And I am Malbi."
Draedon stood up. "Well Malbi," he glanced around at all the other kobolds around him, making sure none were trying to sneak up on him to plunge a bone into his back; none were. "Take me to this hag. I believe I could be able to help."
***
The kobolds, for their size, were nearly as rambunctious as the orcs of the Crags. As they walked, Draedon looked back to see a pair of them bickering in a language Draedon didn't know.
Ultimately, they came upon a large hedge scattered amongst the trees. Between the brush were vines with thorns dotting their surface. Draedon halted, but the kobolds kept walking, moving straight through the thorny brush. Malbi paused before entering and turned to Draedon to beckon him in. "Just try to avoid the thorns."
Draedon did as instructed by the kobold and walked through the hedge, brushing harmlessly by a few vines.
The forest opened up to the kobold's village. Though, calling it a village, or even a camp, was an overstatement.
The 'village' consisted of a hovel of several tents made primarily of fragile sticks and sheets of leaves. In the middle of the clearing was a large boulder, its top just shy of Draedon's height. Built into the side of the boulder was a small hut made of several planks loosely held together by twine and nails.
As Draedon stepped deeper into the 'village' he saw over a dozen more kobolds looking at the new visitor. Most didn't wield weapons, but rather seemed to be doing menial tasks, such as mending armor or fletching bone-arrows.
Malbi ran forward to the hut in the center of the village. "Captain Kalan, captain Kalan. Guess what we brought." As he shouted, a kobold a few inches taller than Malbi, emerged from the hut. Contrary to many of the other kobold 'warriors', Kalan wore actual armor in the form of a small rusty breastplate. Strapped to his back was a shortsword he wielded like a longsword.
Kalan looked to Malbi before his gaze was drawn to Draedon's towering frame.
Malbi stepped aside and cast her hands to Draedon as if revealing a prize and a theatre. "We found an orc who said he could take care of our hag." The smaller kobold said with a large smile across their snout.
Kalan passed by Malbi to step to the orc. Draedon knelt down once again to become eye level with the kobold. Kalan looked Draedon up and down before speaking. "Do you really think you can kill a hag? She could kill this entire village if she wanted to."
"If I were truly willing to, I'm sure I could as well. You kobolds don't seem to be the best of fighters." Draedon stated, looking around at the other kobolds throughout the camp.
Kalan almost looked offended. "I will have you know us kobolds are great fighters. The best of us are even given weapons made of iron." He gestured to the sword on his back.
Draedon stood. "Apologies for doubting your skills. But where is this hag? I assume not here, else we wouldn't be speaking of her death so freely."
Kalan shook his head and started toward the shack that was his quarters. "She's here. Well, I guess not here here." He corrected as he walked into his small hut.
Draedon needed to crouch down to properly see inside. Within the hut was a small bedroll with what looked like part of a potato sack for a blanket. On the ground next to the bedroll was a pile of various weapons. None were any bigger than a shortsword. He saw daggers a hand crossbow, a sack of bolts, and what Draedon assumed to be a sling.
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Kalan walked to a large tarp at the back wall of the hut and pulled it off. Draedon was suddenly met with his own reflection as a large mirror was revealed. Kalan grabbed the mirror and began to pull it from hut- ushering Draedon out of his was as he set it down in the middle of the camp.
Many of the Kobolds slowly began to surround the mirror, a few shaking in fear as they stepped towards it.
Draedon's brows knit. "It's a mirror."
Kalan nodded. "Yes, and her plane. Within the mirror she holds a demiplane where she demands we put our sacrifices."
Draedon nodded. "I see... but, how might I get in?"
Kalan titled his head like a confused hound. "You step in. Have you never entered a demiplane through a mirror before?"
A few seconds of silence passed.
"Um... no."
Kalan blinked a few times. "Oh... everyone I've asked has never done it. Who has never entered a mirror before?" He asked to no one in particular. "But anyways, before you head in, we need a lie. Maybe we can cast you in as a sacrifice. And maybe we just forgot to take your stuff. Cause y'know," he gestured to Draedon in general. "You're big."
Draedon looked down at the chainmail covering his body. He wasn't that big. Though, compared to such small creatures he supposed he was a giant to them. "I suppose. What will you all be doing whilst I'm in there? What would you do if I fail?"
Kalan thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Hag will probably be mad at us for giving a sacrifice that fights back. But that's for us to worry about." Kalan moved around the mirror to behind Draedon and tried to push the back of his legs forward towards the mirror to no avail. "But one last thing. No one else is in there. The hag can change her form to look like almost anyone. So if you think you see someone in there who isn't yourself, it's her. No exceptions."
"You won't have to worry about the hag's rage." Draedon brought his great axe from the leather strap and held it in his hand. "I will kill this monster." With those final words, he stepped onto the surface of the mirror. His boots sunk through the reflective surface, making a ripple on the surface as if it were liquid. Before Draedon could take another step, he fell through the mirror entirely into the hag's domain.
Despite falling feet-first into the mirror, Draedon fell onto his back as the gravity of the demiplane shifted.
The orc sat up, realizing he fell into dark mud. He wiped the gunk from his armor and weapon to notice red liquid smeared where he'd wiped off the mud. He looked down to see deep red liquid mixed with the wet dirt. Draedon instinctively set a hand on the crest of Tirian embroidered on his chest piece. It was blood.
Draedon looked about the demiplane. It looked like a twisted, bloody, version of a forest. Dead trees wrapped in bloody briars littered the muddy bog Draedon found himself in. A full moon hung beyond the thin canopy of dead trees, being the only source of light in the otherwise dark forest.
The Paladin clasped the necklace his father gave him and began to mutter a prayer as he walked. "Tirian, let my blade me sharp to cleave through a foe. Tirian, let my will be strong to strike the final blow." As his prayer concluded the edge of his axe began to radiate a dull glow.
It didn't take long for Draedon to stumble across something more horrific than bloody mud nor briar-bound trees. Before him was a pile of corpses in various states of decay. The bodies varied in age and race, but most had a limb or many missing. Each body, without fail, had the skin of their face removed, all the way down to the veins and skull. However, Draedon didn't dwell on the corpses, but instead, the seemingly frail form standing atop it.
The hag had pail wrinkled skin. Her fingers were tipped with long bloody nails. She wore a tattered dress that may have been white at some point, but was now forever stained red. Ragged white hair sat atop her heard, some bundles of it seemed to nearly levitate at her sides, moving as if they were submerged in water.
The hag's head snapped to face Draedon as he approached. She clasped her hands together and smiled as she stepped down the pile of corpses as if they were stairs. "Ah, another creature cast down by those devious kobolds. I do apologize for their behavior, it often gets lonely for a lady like..." she got no further before the head of a glowing axe swung at her head. In the same moment, the hag leaned back. A few wisps of her white hair were cut by the axe before the hag faded into a crimson mist.
Suddenly, Draedon heard laughter throughout the entire plane. A moment later, the hag's voice echoed through the trees. "A sacrifice clad in armor and an axe? How peculiar. Maybe I've consumed all the intelligent kobolds of that camp over the years. After I've added you to my collection, I'll be sure to... remind them."
Draedon's eyes darted around the forest, searching for the source of the voice. But it came from all around him, as if the air itself was the source of the sound. However he quickly turned as something burst from the pile of corpses behind him. Several loose corpses were flung into the sky as a roar broke the air.
Before Draedon was an abomination of flesh. Various parts of corpses crudely stitched together into one creature that vaguely resembled any humanoid. Its two small legs held up a torso of three men stuck together as well as four arms.
Draedon's face contorted into disgust as he took a step forward and prepared a swing. However, as his axe approached the beast's torso, two of its four arms grasped the handle of his axe, halting it. Draedon pursed his lips as he tightened his grip on the weapon and planted his boot into the center of the creature causing it to stumble back. Draedon swung a second time, feinting as the abomination tried to grab his weapon, and swung up, cleaving off one of its arms.
A moment later one of the abomination's arms slammed into Draedon's side, sending him stumbling. A second blow then stuck his chest. The orc skidded back in the mud several feet before ducking below a third attack and swinging down at the legs of the abomination, aiming for its knee.
The glowing axe blade effortlessly cut through the shriveled flesh of the leg, causing the abomination to topple over onto its back. The abomination let out a cry of agony mixed with sobs as it flailed its three arms, attempting to right itself.
Draedon stepped forward to the side of the abomination's torso and raised his axe above his head. "I am sorry for the hag that made you." His axe began to glow brighter as light consumed the blade. "I will cleanse your body and soul," he began to swing down. "With my divine sm-" he was cut off when something wrapped around his limbs and violently pulled him backward.The orc flew nearly 20 feet before slamming into the briars of a tree.
Before he could reorganize himself he felt several needle-like claws pierce his chainmail and dig into his chest. Draedon's vision finally caught up to his body as he noticed the hag jabbing him in the chest. As soon as he could he quickly swung his now lightless axe in an arc in front of him.
The hag backed away, but not enough to avoid the axe head entirely as it carved across the front of her chest.
The hag snared but then began to laugh with a grin as the blood on her hand trailed up her arm and covered her wound, slowly healing it. "You don't seem so special without your lights."
Draedon glared at the hag as he pried himself from the briars, snapping several of the vines. The dull glow reappeared on his axe. Draedon tapped his knuckle to the emblem of his god on his chest as a thin sheen of gold appeared around him. "Then it's a good thing it's always with me."
Behind the hag, the stitched corpse rose again, having reattached another leg where the stump had been.
The stitched corpse rushed forward as the hag disappeared in a cloud of red mist.
The Paladin braced himself against the creature's charge. He slid back in the mud as the three arms of the abomination pushed against his axe. The orc shifted his grip and pushed the corpse's arms aside before swinging up and cleaving off the second arm.
A blow struck Draedon's chest, causing him to slide back once again. The golden barrier around his skin shimmered and dulled as the blow struck him, but quickly brightened.
Draedon took a step forward again but quickly spun and thrust the end of his axe handle behind him, keeping the hag who had appeared behind him at bay. He turned again and swung his axe into the thick torso(s) of the abomination as it approached. The would emitted a thin golden like across the gash. He turned again to sway away the hag's hand as she tried to pierce his back only for two arms to wrap around him and lift him off his feet. His arms were kept at his sides by the surprising strength of the stitched corpse's arms.
A moment later the hag's hair shot towards the orc, piercing his chainmail and digging in his skin.
Draedon could feel the blood leaving his body as the golden sheen across his body faded. Regardless, he gritted his teeth and, with a grunt of effort, burst from the corpse's grasp. He quickly cut the hair of the hag before dashing towards her. His axe began to glow brightly as he swung. The hag's eyes widened as an arc of light was left across her chest as the axe connected.
The corpse roared and went to grab Draedon again, but he turned and roared alongside it before raising his axe and swinging down. A golden line cut from the top of the corpse's head down through its torso and between its legs.
The abomination stood with its arms limp for a full second before both halves of it fell to either side.
Draedon turned to the hag, who was now breathing heavily as blood seeped into her would to no avail. Her eyes drifted to the warrior before her. The edges of his axe glowed with a radiant golden light. With each step he took towards her the crest of his god on his chest pulsed gold. As he got closer the hag could see the glow in his eyes. They were like golden embers. Golden sparks.
The hag stepped back as the Paladin gripped the amulet around his neck and began to speak. "To myself, the will to push past my weakness. To the foul, a merciless death at a hero's hand."
"Stay back." The hag hissed as a part of her hair shot forward, only for the Paladin to dodge and cut off with his axe. The hag took another step back.
"To the kobolds of Rockbush whose kin you've slain," Draedon raised his axe above his head. The hag took the opportunity to shove both her needle-like claws into the paladin's chest. The hag looked up and the grin on her face faded. Draedon scowled down at the thing beneath him, his eyes like two small flickering gold flames of a candle. "Face Tirian's light!" He shouted as he swung down.
An explosion of light lit up the domain as if the Atlas itself now rested in it, as the axe craved into the hag, straight down into the ground.
As the golden light faded, Draedon found himself standing on grass. On the ground before him was a shattered mirror, split in two by his axe which stuck in the ground between the two halves.
Around him was Rockbush as well as the kobolds that occupied it. Most of them held weapons and drawn bows aimed at the mirror. However, at seeing the paladin, their weapons fell.
"Did you do it?" Kalan stepped forward from the crowd.
Draedon let out a smile as he leaned against his axe to steady himself. Blood still seeped from his wounds, making a pool of red grass at his feet. "Rockbush... has nothing more to fear." He said just loud enough for the kobolds to hear.
He hardly heard the sound of cheers as he fell to his knees, his head ringing. He put a hand to his chest as it began to glow. The wounds only closed partly before the light flickered and sputtered out.
Draedon's body felt light as he toppled to the side, only to be kept up by four other kobolds. Even then, they could only keep him on his knees.
Kalan stepped to Draedon's face and smiled to him. "Thank you, orc. We will heal your wounds, don't worry about a thing. We will help you."