Maneuvering through the never-ending grove of black Stygian trees, known as the Luna Forest, my leather boots sloshed through the mud. My grey woollen cloak billowed behind me while my short, greasy, black hair swayed slightly. My breathing grew erratic and hefty with a stitch that would not pass. The soles of my blistered feet ached as my legs shook harder with every step. Just a bit further.

The mana flowing through my veins slowly dwindled to beyond a dangerous point. My eyes burned as the mana coated my pupils, changing the lighting and colours in my vicinity. Grass morphed from a vibrant green to a sky blue. The Stygian poppies distorted from pitch-black to an eye-blinding white. It was nauseating. Even with the help of mana, my calves and thighs were cramping and shaking. I may have enhanced my legs muscular viscosity, allowing for faster movement, but each stride had my muscles tighten; they edged on tearing in two.

None of these enhancements seemed to deter the creatures who uprooted the trees behind me in chase. Their feet sloshed through mud and moss like they were being pulled beneath it, knocking aside those behemoth trees left and right. Considering woodcutters were only able to chip them, I knew the creatures had to be burly and strong.

Knowing what creatures could lurk inside this forest, these creatures had to be trolls. The smell of rotten flesh forcefully inserting itself inside my nostrils could only come from such putrid creatures. Have these beasts never heard of a bath?

Trolls are not usually difficult opponents, since they’re slow, large, and moronic, to put it nicely. My hand hung over the mana potion dangling from my belt’s loops, clanging against the healing potion and poison bottle next to it. I’ll do this forest a favour and remove these beasts. I continued to run like this for a moment, before pulling my hand away. Dammit! If it wasn’t my only mana potion. I should have just bought some off that vendor instead of haggling, but the prick didn’t lower his price by even a Kol. Asshole. Clenching my teeth, I didn’t stop. There had to be another way to fight them.

My eyes began to dart around the forest. I stared at the Stygian trees that stood taller than dragons, their branches hung thicker than whales, and their trunks were broader than redwoods. But they were no use to me.

The forest’s trees were interwoven like honeycomb, with only short and narrow paths for me to follow, like a maze. I became erratic, navigating down different and tighter paths to no avail. The trolls still lingered.

I glanced to the ground for my salvation. The only perceivable things in my haste, other than the mud I ran upon, were patches of damp blue grass. Different kinds of dark and light blue moss encroached on stones and climbed up the trees. Similar moss sat beneath the native poppies, which were strewn along the forest grounds. How any of this grew with the dense canopy above blocking the sun’s light was beyond me.

My mana deficit was pushing critical as I raced down the identical looking paths. Something had to change, weaving through the trees wasn’t enough. The trolls were breathing down my neck, gifting a chill along my spine. Then something tiny and shining caught the corner of my eye. I took a sharp turn and ran straight to the light. The side of my lips began to lift the closer the light came. This was it, my salvation.

Finally reaching it, a strip of alliums planted within the mud stood below me. They shone bright, crafting a new path ahead that would lead straight to my friends. Boris, you genius! I gave chase after the alliums, passing one every few steps. Relief had passed over me. My legs had stopped their ceaseless tension, and my breathing grew ever so lighter.

I ran further, then even further until it dawned on me, I don’t know how far away my group is. The breathlessness and the tension came back in an instant. A tight knot squeezed down upon my chest as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I drew in a deep breath and cursed. I knew what had to be done. Sure, potentially reaching my group before my legs gave out was a possibility. But from the start there was only one choice for me really.

I tried a quick glimpse behind myself, but a jagged piece of bark intervened. It gave me a nasty but shallow gash on my right upper arm and tore my sleeve. I drew in a slow and deep breath and felt within my quiver. I must have had ten iron tipped arrows at most. A sinking feeling began to wallow within my gut as I pulled my short bow from over my shoulder and head. Drawing an arrow from the quiver, I took out the half empty poison bottle from my belt and popped it opened. The smell of rot and death wafted from the bottle. I slathered the green acidic liquid and chunks of Maria knows what across the arrow’s tip. Placing the cork lid back in place, then the bottle back in its loop, I loaded my bow with the poison dripping arrow. I yanked back the bow's rough hemp string. Its limbs resisted my gradual pull. My hands trembled pulling the struggling string. My muscles tensed, finishing the draw.

I stopped my run and quickly spun around, sliding in the mud, to face the two trolls stomping my way. I held my bow’s string close to my lips, looking for an opening. Their oval heads with snout noses looked down on me. I could feel their eyeless faces glaring at me with ravenous intent. Their slit-like mouths hung open, drooling at my presence. My fingers strained but held firm. Their heads are too high up to hit. I lowered my bow slightly and aimed for their grey, flaky skin.

My fingers fell slack, slowly drifting off the bow string until release. The string snapped forward, launching the arrow. It whistled on a direct course to the left troll’s heart. The arrow flew high above the trolls’ stubby legs and soared up towards its stocky chest. Higher and faster, it flew. The arrow pierced straight at the troll’s heart, pinning itself right into the troll’s rippling flesh. But despite my wishes, it burrowed no deeper. Going completely unnoticed as they continued barrelling my way. Hopefully, that’ll be enough.

Turning back around, I hurried into a sprinting. I yanked another arrow from my quiver and slathered the remaining poison onto it. Placing the empty bottle back and reloading my bow, I turned once more. My bow shook as the string’s tension increased. My fingers grew redder the longer and harder I pulled. The string reached my lips again, and I let go, but this time aiming at the right troll. The arrow soared once more, gliding through the air like a missile locked onto its target. While my arrow flew, I pushed the back of my cloak aside. I withdrew two hidden daggers from their scabbards. The arrow slowly dipped down its intended arch, pinning itself right into the opposite troll’s chest. And like before, going no deeper than its flesh.

I held my position, daggers in hand, and waited. A bead of sweat ran down my brow as the trolls ploughed forward through the tree line. The knot in my chest tightened with each Stygian tree that crashed into the ground. The trolls should have been on me within moments, but they now stumbled towards me like their legs had been stricken by a ball and chain. Defiant creatures, roll over and die already!

The left troll, who had fallen well behind the other, completely stopped. It planted its legs into the mud. The troll bent its back towards a tree on its side and grasped onto it. All the veins within its back bulged through its rolls. Its arms tightened around the tree. The bark splintered and cried as the trolls arms slowly dug in. The wood beneath the bark tried to hold back the beast, but it too gave way, cracking underneath the immense pressure of the troll. The veins on its back grew larger, bulging out. Visible blood rocketing through them as the troll pulled back.

The surrounding trees rumbled as ripples flowed through the mud. Tiny wisps sprouted in bursts from the ground, slivering through the mudded ripples. From the wisps grew white, jagged roots that flung high into the air. My eyes stayed on the trolls, assuming these roots were just from the tree he had pulled up. But the roots began to writhe in the mud and air, with one bursting out in front of my eyes and swinging down at me. At me? The hell did I do?

I sidestepped the root with relative ease. More of the forest’s tendrils burst from below, congregating in front of me. They snapped at me like whips, and I dodged each swipe. They were making me dance like their little monkey. Diving left, jumping up, then swinging from one root to another. The trolls weren’t fairing much better either. The one that continued running had tripped over and was now held to the ground. The other was swinging its legs at the flailing roots. It winced and bleated at the lacerations it received for its lack of obedience. I had heard rumours that this forest was alive, but this was not what I thought they meant.

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My mana was all but gone by now, any further use of it and I would have more problems than roots flinging themselves at me. My singed eyes were thankful for this, though my surroundings were now dimly lit. The alliums slight glow was the only reason I could see the roots swing. But when they pulled back, they were completely out of sight. With only milliseconds to react, every move I made was pure instinct. A tendril slashed down at me, and I dove right. Mud splashed into the air and through it shot another. It clashed against my stomach, clenching onto my body. My feet couldn't stay grounded. A sting ran across my gut as I flew up and crashed down into the open grove created by the trolls.

Surrounded by darkness and invisible enemies, I put my arms to the side of my head. Ready for the barrage that would inevitably come. And like clockwork, the roots slashed down at me. They slashed my back, tearing my cloak and tunic in two. They slashed my arms, ripping skin from my flesh. They slashed my calves, sending me sprawling into the mud. The mud seeped into my open wounds, sending them ablaze. My cries were muffled by my hands as I fell, but they didn’t stop.

With my back facing out, all I could do was cover the back of my head. Tendrils began wrapping around my legs, torso and head to hold me in place. Tightening with every move I made. I tried to stay completely still, but the searing pain from each lash I received on my back made it impossible. I couldn’t hold back my voice any longer. With each new slash came an ear-piercing cry. A yelp so loud I thought it was impossible for me to make. Blood splattered, slashes overcrossed on my open wounds. My body froze, but my cries grew louder. The roots’ uneven surfaces made the pain more excruciating. It was like little knives plunged into my back and dragged themselves across.

My back felt numb, my mind raced trying to think of ideas. My hands had been tied to my head. The roots holding my body dug deeper into my arms and legs, slivering around and through them. They began trying to dig under my skin, shoving their way through the slits they created. My eyes watered. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t see, and my mind was falling blank. I had no idea what was going on around me, I had no idea how to escape, I had no idea about anything. I’m going to die.

My mind rushed with a flurry of different events in my life. My times as a child, playing with silly toys and sitting around the table with my parents. The last time I saw my parents, when I begged them to find my friend who was gone. Tears overwhelmed me. My eyes closed tight. I had to think of something else, a way to survive. My time in school came next, learning from my teacher on how to be a rogue. Then meeting up with my friends and joining the Dayl guild. These thoughts had to end, my lungs were caving in on themselves, I needed something else. What would Forland do? My clenched eyes opened wide, like the answer to this world had come over me. What would he do? He’d laugh at me. The muscles in my body that had bled profusely and had gone completely numb could feel again. The searing pain scorched my back and arms. He’d make fun of me. My hands dug into the hard ground beneath the mud. My nails slowly scraped off as I tried to grip the surface. Then he’d come in to save the day, pretending that I needed his help. My arms tightened, as did the roots around them as I pushed up. I pushed against the mud surrounding me, against the roots that pulled me in place. With each bit of ground I gained, the roots clenched down. Digging into my skin, sinking further into the ground and dragging me with them. But I would not yield. I don’t need your help and I never will!

I was… standing? The roots that clung and dug into me descended into the mud, making a gargling noise as they retreated. Darkness surrounded me once more, but not for long. I closed my moist, red eyes and concentrated. Floating little orbs stirred inside my heart. A pathway opening for the orbs, and they rushed through. They pushed past the blood in the stream, flying up higher and higher. A slight tinge pierced my eyes, then they became fully singed. When I opened my eyes, to my shock the tendrils had completely disappeared. In their place came a tree flying at me.

My eyes shot wide open; my jaw dropped. My face went pale. I blinked again and again, but it was still falling. I hastily turned tail and bolted to the side. The falling tree’s shadow grew larger over me with each bound. My breathing was sporadic, my heart raced once more. My fingers clenched as the tree fell further. My muscles clenched, spitting out blood after each stride. The trees I ran to were close, but the falling tree was closer. I wasn’t going to make it. I had only seconds to make it. My toes clenched; my muscles started to spasm. My arm reached out by itself, my hand opened, grasping towards the trees. Time fell still. I held my breath as I leaped towards the trees. My body swung in the air as the tree crashed down behind me. The wind pressure blew me forward faster than before; I couldn’t stop myself. My face landed straight into a tree. A loud snap rung out as blood strung itself on the tree bark that I slid down.

Crashing into the ground, there was no longer a part of my body that didn’t hurt. My back stung, my legs were cramping to hell, my nails were gone from my hands. Blood seeped from my nose, and everywhere else, just all over the place. I reached down and grabbed the red potion. Pulling off the glass cap, I swished it to my lips. A red oozy liquid seeped from the glass. Not having time to waist, I violently shook the bottle. The potion cascaded down my gullet, leaving only a hint of cherry and fizz. All my bleeding ceased at once. A snapping noise rang out as my nose snapped back into place. The flabby flesh that hung from my back stitched back into place. The wind’s cold breeze no longer sent prickly shivers down my spine. Nails slowly regrew over the open red puss at the end of my fingers. The bleeding slits across my body intertwined, returning to bumpy pale skin. A stinging sensation still lingered throughout my body, but it would fade in time. Forland had been right to buy the highest quality potions they had, too bad I only had one. Bloody prick! Charging an arm and a leg for a potion for Maria’s sake!

Two roars in the distance reminded me that I was not alone. Snapping towards the noise, two battered and bruised trolls stood tall. Luckily, they didn’t have anything to heal that off. They weren’t as far away anymore, thanks to the roots knocking me towards them. Bleeding profusely, open wounds oozing, they meandered towards me and stopped close by. Both trolls reached up into the trees, grabbing onto a branch and slowly pulling down. The branches slowly splintered. The cracking of wood sounded more like a cry of pain. The cries only stopped once a loud snap rung out and the branches were fully torn off. The trolls ran their mangled and bloody hands across the branches. Leaves and sticks clung for dear life but snapped away. The trolls’ makeshift clubs were ready.

While they prepared their weapons, so did I. I switched into the Moskav battle stance. My daggers felt lighter than before. I switched them into a reverse grip, only to find empty space occupying my hands. My eyes bulged as I screamed from the depths “OH YOU’VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!” My eyes scoured the surface of the mud, hoping to glimpse anything shiny or metallic. But all that came to sight was dull grey rocks. That and those damn Stygian poppies that littered the grounds. Somehow unscathed by the carnage. That's a bad omen. The more searching done; the more blood drained from my face. By the end, I accepted that they were gone. I reached for my bow instead, it may not have been effective, but it was better than nothing. Reaching back and feeling around, I realised my bow and quiver were gone too. The only thing remaining was the remnants of my ripped cloak that still clung to my neck. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as my face grew beet red. Pick rogue, they said. Rogues are cool, they said. Who’d want to be a cleric.

Staring up at the trolls, clubs in hand, my muscles tightened. My heart raced a mile a minute with a cord tightening around it. My body stayed in the Moskav battle stance ready for a fight, but the goosebumps covering my shaking arms told another story. The trolls stomped over to me. Trying to keep a distance, I took a step back. The rough bark brushed up against my back’s bare skin, holding me in place. The knot that had tightened in my chest now tightened around my whole body. My feet were ensnared by the heavy weight of the mud, my arms were screwed tight into place.

The club flew high behind the right troll’s head. Its mouth drooled as it eyed its next meal. It swung the club down hard to my stiffened body. Pieces of bark tore from the club as it whistled through the air. The battle was lost, it was pointless to continue. The sound of the club grew louder; the club grew closer. The weight holding my legs vanished with the whistling winds. A flame had been lit in my eyes; I was not about to give up now. The club was but an inch away from me when I leapt into the air. The club swung underneath my feet. For a second, I thought I could win this battle. My hopes went higher and so did I. I was soaring. The pinch against my throat wouldn’t stop me. But it morphed from a pinch to a noose. My cloak had caught on the club and was growing tighter around my neck each second. My face grew purple, my eyes were bulging as I flew up behind the club. Oxygen wasn’t passing through; everything was going dark. My arms fought against the gushing wind, struggling to push past to grab onto the club. My arms wouldn’t go high enough. I grabbed around my neck and tugged. My red eyes bulged farther from their sockets. My body flailed through the air; my vision went black. And as my eyes closed, the sound of metal scraping apart whispered into my ears.