They had made their camp for the rest of the night in the foothills of the mountains, where the wood had barely begun, to disguise their small fire. The mountain pass lay behind them, sheer cliff faces replaced by great trunks of trees. There was talk among the villagers that the Spiderwood was so thick that the sun couldn’t penetrate, but the sun still flickered through the leaves overhead where they had camped.
Despite Alaric offering to take first watch, sleep eventually came to them both, as exhausted as they were from the journey. Although sleep came, it was not peaceful, and Darius dreamed of a demon's face, toothless and eyeless, whispering to him, screaming at him, commanding him, staring at him.
Alaric’s eyes snapped open as the first light of dawn made its way through the trees to their camp, his keen ears catching a faint rustling in the bushes. He leaned over and gently shook Darius awake, putting a finger to his lips. Darius’ eyes shot open and he rose slightly, reaching for his sword, his eyes scanning the brush. Alaric’s own hand crept down to his boot where he had hidden his dagger.
‘What is it?’ Alaric whispered.
‘If we’re lucky, goblin scout crew. Three grunts and a sniper.’
‘If we’re unlucky?’ Alaric could barely muster a whisper. He had fought in battles, years ago, but his bravery had abandoned him along with his youth.
‘Forward scout for a goblin warband. 15 reavers, four snipers and a runner.’
‘They couldn’t have tracked us from the pass.’ Alaric was beginning to recover his composure. ‘No. Goblins don’t venture into this wood. We’re not deep enough for it to be a monster. It’s man or beast.’
Alaric spoke with the wisdom of a man who frequented the wood. Darius opened his mouth to question him, but his breath held in his throat as a man emerged from the brush. His mottled cloak danced in the halflight of the shadowed path. A great bow was slung over his shoulder, and a dirk rested in a scabbard at his waist. His face was covered by a cowl, but neither man had any doubt that he was extremely capable with both weapons. Alaric’s hand crept from his dagger, seizing instead the wooden staff that lay on the forest floor beside him.
‘The Spider weaves her dark web through the forest. It’s not safe to enter. Even goblins don’t dare.’
‘Guess it’s lucky I’m not a goblin then, eh?’ Darius smirked coolly.
‘It is a fool’s errand,’ the cloaked man said. ‘Turn back to your village.’
Darius looked the man up and down curiously. He made it his business to know every man and woman in the village and her surrounding pastures, but this man seemed a stranger. His mouth and nose were covered with a mottled brown mask and his eyes were shadowed by the heavy mottled brown hood he wore.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
‘Who are you?’ Darius asked. The stranger returned Darius’ gaze coolly.
‘I am a Ranger, a protector of these woods.’
‘Then you are in league with the Spider?’
‘I do not protect the woods, or the Spider, for her dark magic and minions protect plenty enough. I protect those travellers who would enter - those who journey towards their doom.’
Darius nodded, and it was Alaric who finally spoke.
‘We seek the Spider. We are besieged by goblins, and she is our only hope. We have the blessing of the council.’
The woodsman’s eyes narrowed.
‘You seek the Spider? Do you know the danger you invite upon yourselves?’
‘No more danger than a thousand goblins,’ Darius responded. The cowled man looked at him with alarm.
‘A thousand? There is no goblin host that large in the world.’
‘I saw them with my own eyes. We have come from the mountains, and they camp the valley southwest of here.’
‘If what you’re saying is true, the Spider will only hasten your peril. She is wicked, and has only grown more evil since her exile.’
‘Are you from the village?’ Alaric asked the stranger.
‘I was,’ replied the Ranger. ‘I left with the Spider, to ensure her evil influence wouldn’t poison the village.’ Alaric and Darius shared a glance. Darius wondered if he was one of the four warriors who had taken her to the sacred site to bind her for eternity. Three of them had never returned, and the one who had was mad from the journey.
‘Then you know she was the Mother of the village,’ Alaric said. ‘She guided us through nearly a century of peace and prosperity, and ultimately sacrificed herself for the village. We need her aid again, and she will surely give it.’
‘You don’t understand.’ The Ranger shook his head. ‘She is not the village Mother anymore. That night changed her, even if she returned to her natural form. Her exile was a mistake, too. She has been feeding off the primal evil of the forest, and it has been feeding off her. They have formed a symbiosis of evil.’
‘She saved us then,’ Alaric said. ‘She will save us again.’
The Ranger’s eyes pierced Alaric.
‘I remember you. You were her last defender on the council, and the one who convinced the rest to exile and not execute. It would have been a mercy.’
‘The choice was never mine alone. She saved the village, and was a good leader beforehand. Would you have swung the axe?’
‘Maybe.’ The Ranger softened a little, and shook his head. ‘No. I don’t think I could have.’ He paused for a long moment of consideration.
‘I don’t believe you can survive the Spiderwood,’ he finally said. ‘You don’t understand the evil of the place now. It has been a decade of festering evil. But maybe… Maybe she can atone for her original sin. Maybe in saving the village again, she can restore her humanity. Maybe we can restore the Wood to a place of sanctuary and nature, as it was in the past.
'I have kept watch for years now. I know the way, and how to avoid the traps and sentries. I will guide you to the centre of the Wood, where she is still bound. With my aid, you might have a chance.’