An Encounter in the Blackwood

The red streaked sky hung menacingly low, foretelling of the dire weather to come. The air was stale, a scent of fetid water and decay flavored the breeze as it gusted through the dead fallen branches and gently fanned the mists on the stagnant waters. The dirt paths were difficult to follow through the marshes of the Blackwood at any time, regardless of the time of day.

Behind him lay the skeletal remnants of a town named Lyire. Ahead was a dangerous trek through the Blackwood swamps, inhabited by the secretive and mysterious lizardfolk. The foul smelling wind washed over his face, assailing his senses. His eyes tearing as much from the rank smell as the heavy methane concentration in the air.

Travel was difficult during this time of year. The autumn season in Grudmash was a long period of sporadic rains and quick unannounced cold snaps. It was this fact that worried the Ordinator so much. The inhabitants of the swamp would be most active at this point. No doubt attempting to fill their subterranean dens with as much foodstuffs as they could possibly fit.

Officially, any travel through the marsh roads had been closed for the season, caravan roads and merchant routes having been redirected around the woods towards the village of Vassar. This was, of course, done to minimize any incidents between citizens of the kingdom and the residents of the Blackwood.

Ignatius Craft was the best of the best amongst the king's agents. A walking, breathing engine of death to those who threatened the crown or its interests. Every Ordinator was trained from a very young age in the most deadly ways of combat and every manner of survival known to man. They are to be the eyes, ears, and hands of the king in areas where normal means and methods simply would not do. Amongst these great warriors and negotiators, Ignatius was counted as one of the very best. Indeed, his family's highly decorated history spoke volumes of their long-standing favor with the crown. Each male in his lineage for the last two hundred years had claimed the title of Ordinator and every one of them served for the entirety of their lives, meeting their ends in active service.

For now, his goal was to reach the city of Rune where he might further investigate the origins of the cult that had visited such ruin on the town of Lyire. The man, Wolf had spoken of others who carried the blasphemous word of this Harvester-thing to the innocents of the kingdom. This cult and their unspeakable patron must be stopped at all costs, he thought to himself as he made his way through the gradually transitioning landscape. The lush verdant backdrop of the Oakshae forest slowly gave way to the moist, moss covered willows and petrified tress of the dismal Blackwood.

The Ordinator's knee-high black leather riding boots sunk into the damp earth with each step he took. The sloshing and sucking sounds from the mud interfered with his subconscious perception as he listened for any signs that might indicate he was being followed. A rapid hard flapping sound exploded from behind him, the shadow of a large raptor cast its black silhouette down over the rough terrain as it flew by, sounding off with a shrill shriek.

The first minutes of the morning turned to the hours of the afternoon as the Ordinator made his way, yard by yard through the harsh landscape. All the while, Ignatius could feel eyes on him. Menacing stares from everywhere at once, as if the very swamp itself was watching his every move.

A low hiss came from the waterline behind him. It was a consistent, quiet exhalation from yet another unseen presence lying in wait for an unsuspecting prey creature... or was it marsh gas? Ignatius dropped forward onto his lead knee and twisted his trunk to face his flank as he drew his long-blade. Despite the awkward positioning, the Ordinator remained perfectly balanced, ready to strike.

His eyes found nothing beyond the normal stagnate still life of the midday swamps. The reeds blew gently, swaying side to side in the foul wind. Hearty vines reached down like alien tendrils from the willows following in kind. The utter complacency was maddening. But still, there was no sign of life or presence to confront.

The day dragged on into the falling light of the evening and the Ordinator's concern began to fall to shelter. Ignatius had hoped to cross the span of marshland by nightfall, though now, it seemed a lost cause. The task now fell to him to set up some manner of camp. The solution came to him on the heels of a surprise peel of thunder that raced across the, mostly unseen, sky beyond the interwoven tree canopy.

Illuminated by the flash of lightning, it sat uneven in the dark still waters, jutting out of the bog at an odd angle. Its large exposed stonewalls were covered in moss and embraced by vines as if the Blackwood itself sought to keep the abandoned shrine hidden. The ancient edifice showed obvious signs of Grudmashian design and some faded heraldry belied its past use as a place of worship for the pantheon. Though the swamp had long since claimed the sunken foundations, the majority of the structure was stable and high enough above the waterline to be a suitable place to spend the night.

Ignatius approached the large pool of murky bog filth, the stench of decaying foliage and fungi of all types wafted into his nostrils.

"A miserable night, for sure." he said to himself aloud.

Across the water, Ignatius could see into the dark, poorly lit recesses of the shrine as the old wooden doors had been long since deteriorated, leaving only their rusted iron fittings somewhere beneath the opaque, non-moving waters. Within, the bare stonewalls were cloaked in shadows, offset only by the sporadic glistening of wet moss or lichen living in the recesses between the bricks.

His high, tight boots kept his feet dry as they entered the shallows of the bog. As his destination slowly came within his reach, the forever-open doorway of the shrine stood before him. Resting just below his navel, the water sloshed and rippled against him as he moved, the liquid sound echoing curiously in the chamber ahead.

The feeling of loneliness was monumental. The solitude played at his nerves and forced his brain to see things that simply were not there. Looking side to side as he crossed the submerged threshold of the ruin, the Ordinator scanned for signs of habitation. But he could find none, it was safe for now.

This temporary sense of security was enough to allow the exhausted, filthy Ordinator to relax. Seeing the northwest corner of the shrine held several high shelves, well secured to the sturdy wall, Ignatius began to climb to the highest platform. It sat seven feet or so above the waterline in the ruined building which placed it some nine feet in the air in total.

Well out of reach of anything that lives in the bog, he thought.

Using his small traveling pack as a makeshift pillow, Ignatius laid his blades down beside him as he covered himself in his heavy cloak and closed his eyes. In his mind, he spoke a silent prayer to the powers of the Pantheon, giving thanks for allowing him asylum in their disused place of worship.

The black emptiness of unfit rest came fast upon him as his body relaxed, sleep overtaking his mind in just a few minutes. Dreams were no respite from the rigors of travel in these lands. Images of past battles and faces of the dead plagued the Ordinator mercilessly, the resounding staccato of drums echoing in the background all the while. There was always the feeling of a presence in his dreams, something close, yet hidden to him. It was always as if he was being watched, observed by some manner of entity he had not yet come to understand.

* * *

The eerie reverie was cut short as Ignatius awoke to find his hands bound together in front of him, held fast by a filthy length of grime encrusted rope. A distinct scent of musk filled the air with an eye-watering mixture of mold and decay. The Ordinator was caught, his assailants unknown, although a quick assessment of the situation told him his fears had come to pass and he was now in the hands of the Blackwood's most ornery inhabitants, the lizardfolk.

Anguisan, they called themselves. It was one of the only words of their primitive language Ignatius knew, unfortunately. Though he was faced away from the wall in a sitting position, his sight was next to useless in the near blackness. He could hear their chittering, hissing language being spoken in hushed tones somewhere out of sight. The openness of the temple ruin, granted a traveling echo off the fetid water and made it sound like they were everywhere, swarming around him just out of sight.

His disciplined mind fought to maintain order over his thoughts and he began to try to recall all that he could. This is not where he had fallen asleep. Previously he had been higher up, elevated away from the water, but here, his feet and flank were wet from immersion.

I must have been dragged here and bound. He thought.

Which meant that they had probably drugged him during his abduction. Even as the thought came to him, the previously restored calm of his mind began to waver as the chemical sedative fought to subdue his consciousness a little longer. But the Ordinator’s will was strong, his constitution` sound. The haze and vertigo lasted only a minute or two before fading away again.

Of what his mind could recall about the Anguisan and their habits, the only reason he could gather that they would keep a human alive would be to either enslave him and eat him when he ceased to be useful, or sacrifice him... and then eat him. He took a silent account for all that he could feel he had on him, they looted his weapons, his pack, his boots, and anything they felt would aid him in an escape through the swamps.

It was so dark.

There was not a star to be had in the entire sky, nor was there a bright ivory moon to cast its pale glow down upland the twilight landscape, only unforgiving, unrelenting darkness. From where the Ordinator now sat, he could barely make out the division of where the ruins ended and the night sky began.

Lochrian, give me strength.

It was then that a reptilian scaly hand shot out of nowhere and hoisted him to his feet. The sudden jolt surprised him as his body tried to accommodate his weight with the drugs in his system. His footing faltered and he slipped with a great splash into the stagnant pool.

Gaia, give me strength.

The landing rocked the Ordinator's body, the jarring impact, stunning him briefly. The sensation of his arms being free jolted him back into reality. A sharp rock at the creature's feet split the ropes and a good deal of flesh on his left arm. Although it hurt the world, Ignatius' warrior instincts took over and he drove his fist into the anguisan's inner-thigh with all the force he could muster.

Dakkor, give me strength.

He could hear the rest of them now, scrambling about, unseen in the dark. They were coming for him, and he knew they could smell him. The lizard-man crumbled, cursing and spitting in its alien tongue. And Ignatius rolled on his side, right over the fallen abductor and worked his way quickly on all fours out into the night. It was as pitch dark outside as it was within and Ignatius' human eyes struggled to work out his environment.

Under water they could not track him, this much he knew. But the blood, they could smell it anywhere in the swamp! Still the Anguisan pursued from behind, chirping and hissing as they tracked him. How far had he made it beyond the ruins? It was impossible to gauge with his limited visibility.

As if out of nowhere, Ignatius connected full force with the nigh immovable presence of a petrified willow tree, its long dead husk made super dense by years of exposure to the harsh conditions of the swamp. Ignatius saw a blinding starburst as his face came into contact with the massive trunk and landed flank-first into the water with a loud splash.

The next sound Ignatius heard was not that of the chirping reptilian speech, but the guttural growl of something decidedly canine. Invisible and silent, a gigantic predator had approached him, as he lay stunned by the impact of the tree.

Barely a foot in front of him, was a massive canine muzzle bearing a huge collection of sharp teeth, its wet jowls were pulled back as it growled quietly. The beast had fur as black as the night, contrasted by the pale pearl color of it's fangs. Further back, up the snout, its eyes stared plainly into Ignatius'.

"Kardis," a voice called out softly in the darkness. "Leave him."

Compelled completely by the stranger's words, the impossibly large wolf turned away with a quiet grunt and padded off silently back into the foliage.

Dizzied by the impact from the tree, the world fell out of focus to the Ordinator. The darkness bled into everything, distorting the separations of the various solids around him.

"Come Ignatius,” The stranger whispered. "It's not safe here."

Not having much reason to want to stay put, the Ordinator rose on unsteady legs and made his way over to the path the stranger had given him. The robed benefactor moved impossibly lithely and quickly through the thick of all the adversity the marsh had to offer. Brushing aside in a single move, what slowed Ignatius' pace to a crawl. But still, the Ordinator fought to keep up.

As they came out of the thickest of the foliage, the marshlands gave way to less damp greenery and the vague outline of a little used road, overtaken by brush. The Ordinator was troubled at the stranger's knowledge of his name, but there was little to be said at that moment. He had provided Ignatius with safe passage away from the Anguisan hunting party and led him to a road.

When at last he stood firmly on the even ground of the disused path, the Ordinator turned to face his would-be savior. The hermit's face was cloaked in the shadow of his hood, just as the flowing robes obscured its body type.

"Who are you?" Ignatius inquired curiously.

"... Kardis' friend." he muttered in a monotone response. "Your friend... Once upon a time."

There was a brief silence between the two men as they stood facing one another in the darkness. The stranger brought his hands to his head and withdrew the heavy material of his hood and revealed his face. The expression on Ignatius' face went from quizzical and skeptical to astonished.

"Raife?!" Emotion overtook him as the news of his friend's apparent survival came over him. "I heard your caravan was lost in the Pass of Ciero nearly a year ago."

He moved to embrace his long lost companion, unaware of the cold, alien expression on Raife's face. The connection was short lived though. Raife pushed him gently away after but a moment and looked sternly at his friend.

"The caravan was completely butchered and all among its number were killed." He took a breath before continuing his explanation. "They were beasts from the trees. They ambushed us by the light of the moon. There was no hope..."

"So, how did you survive?"

Raife sighed and looked up to the night sky, scanning the vast sea of navy for some unknown thing that eluded Ignatius. The silence only served to heighten the Ordinator's curiosity.

"I awoke the following morning amidst the ruin of my caravan. My ward had been slain along with every other man woman and child that traveled with us." He paused to take a breath. "My wounds should have killed me, yet I lived. Something had sustained me."

Ignatius tightened up, his apprehension leading him into a defensive posture. "What are you saying?"

Raife flew at Ignatius, moving with speed that surpassed anything mortal, and pinned him to a tree with his fists. "I'm saying I am Damned! My blood boils beneath the light of the moon and the beast comes forth seeking blood! It cares not from whence it comes, but only that its hunger is slated upon it."

The reasoning behind his friend's disappearance was clear now. "So you live amongst these... things so that the creature inside you will kill only the beasts here?"

"Yes, now you must go. I freed you from the Anguisan but I feel it beneath my skin. It moves ever closer to the surface and my control is failing."

Raife released his Once-Brother-in-Arms and turned his back to flee into the dense foliage of the forest once more. Ignatius barely saw the blur of motion, but managed to call out before it was too late.

"Raife wait! I need your help one last time. They have my father's blades...” Raife could see the hurt in his old comrade's eyes as he told him what the lizardmen had stolen from him. "I can’t leave without them."

"Ignatius, I cannot control the monster for much longer. If I fail, it will seek to devour you." Raife explained, though he could see that the Ordinator didn't care about the risks. "We haven't got much time." With a nod of agreement, the two men sprinted off back the way they had come and set off in search of the Anguisan.

Kardis easily broke out ahead of the men and searched out their disgusting scent easily. It's guttural low bark signaled that he had found the scent and led the way through barely a mile of brush when suddenly, the massive wolf stopped short. The wolf crouched low, its massive furry chest dipped into the water as it stalked closer to its prey.

Ignatius and Raife caught up to Kardis and dropped into lower stances as they listened. Just beyond the brush, Ignatius could scarcely make out the sounds of the Lizard-tongue dialogue. Their hissing and chirping bleeding into the ambient sounds of the forest night.

Raife had inclined his head as he listened; his dark eyes bore an eerie reflective sheen as the moonlight shined off the water. From his expression, Ignatius could see that Raife was listening and studying.

"There are five males, all warriors. They're tired right now. Their heart beats are much faster than normal."

Ignatius looked on puzzled at Raife's amazing insights. His senses had become so keen, his mannerisms so alien, he resembled some manner of predator... some kind of monster.

He nodded silently to Kardis, the wolf's massive body shot forward like a coiled spring set free. Its bulk soared through the air without a sound and then, as the impact was imminent, a loud roar escaped its maw. Huge teeth sunk into reptilian flesh as Kardis bit into the first Lizard's neck, the force of its flying body forcing the surprised Anguisan to the ground.

Raife propelled himself forward as well, throwing himself at two others. He could feel the beast coming to the fore, the change was beginning. On instinct, Raife raked viciously at the Anguisan warriors as they defended unarmed, using their crossed forearms as shields. The scales on their limbs were heavy and wide, good protection from a normal man... But as the long talons that preceded the man's fingers bypassed their thick hide, the horrific reality washed over them that their assailant was something else entirely.

"Ignatius!" Raife cried out. "Its begun, you have to leave now!"

The Ordinator followed his friend out of the brush and threw himself at another surprised Lizardman warrior. Ignatius went for the thin, weak-kneed legs of the creature. He speared the thing using his bodyweight to bowl it over onto its back. Huge claws lashed out at his face, but he parried them easily with his arms, pinning the monster's arms with his hands and head butting it in the face, stunning the Anguisan with the force of the blow. The moment was all the time he needed to reach the soft flesh of its throat with a quick hammer fist, crushing its windpipe. It thrashed around spastically even as Ignatius leapt off of it. The small party of warriors were guarding a large chest of trinkets and junk they sought to deliver to their lair and offer up to whatever demon they worshipped. Standing crooked out of the half-open container was a pair of all-too-familiar hilts. They bore the exact likeness of his family's blades and before the Ordinator even thought about his actions, both blades, long and short, were back in his possession.

A noise from behind startled Ignatius and even as he reclaimed his weapons, the long blade whistled around in a small arc behind him, skewering the head of the last Lizardman guard. The lifeless body twitched as it fell off his sword and slumped into the ankle deep water and mud with a quiet splash.

"Raife, we did it." The Ordinator said triumphantly realizing that his friend must be behind him.

Ignatius turned on his heels, resheathing his weapons to come face to face with a seven-foot tall hulking monstrosity of steely muscle, fur, and teeth. Gone was any semblance of humanity from, what Ignatius could only guess, was Raife. It breathed heavily through a long maw lined with razor sharp teeth; drool falling freely from its exposed gums.

Still, there was something familiar about its eyes. Down deep, past the cold predatory glaze that covered them, beyond the murderous rage he saw boiling just below the surface. Down in his soul, he could see Raife battling for control. With blinding speed, a wicked claw specialized in death-dealing shot out, smashing Ignatius aside with a backhand and sending his tired body into a nearby tree. The force of impact stole the wind from the Ordinator's chest and brought bright starbursts to his eyes, dotting his vision with after-images. The werewolf, for truly that was what he was, moved gracefully over towards Ignatius, a low growl seeming to perpetually emanate from its throat.

It was a scenario of pure nightmare. Reunited with a friend long-thought dead only to find him alive and cursed, as well as to be placed in the path of his uncontrollable supernatural fury.

It was the final indignity the forces of fate were to deal to him today, he thought.

His off-hand found its way to the hilt of his parry blade and a quick wrist flick later, the blade's flat side was brought to bear on the monstrosity's face. The contact of the silvered metal to the creature's flesh caused an instantaneous reaction that sizzled and popped like bare meat on a hot griddle.

Raife roared in pain as the silver burned into his skin. The huge beast was taken by surprise, as his vast might couldn’t shrug off the damage done by the mystical metal. The wound remained despite his supernatural healing and the shock took the bestial fury right out of his eyes.

The look his monstrous face gave Ignatius, told the Ordinator that his friend had triumphed over the beast for control. It was a look of understanding, and of sorrow. The great beast reared up and howled ferociously at the night sky before twisting around in a blinding movement and disappeared into the brush.

In a single breath's span, his old lost friend saved his life and again resigned himself to the darkness he could not master fully. Perhaps someday, Ignatius would find him again. And either deliver his friend from the evil that plagued him, or serve him the ultimate mercy of his blade...