Chapter 2
Crow awoke to a stick thrust against his temple.
“I told you it would wake him up,” Urang cheered triumphantly.
“But I told you not to,” Magellan replied with slight exasperation. Urang gave a fresh jab with the stick.
“Listening to you is what got us here in the first place,” Urang said. Simon turned and nodded reassuringly, mimicking blood spurting from his neck with one hand before turning back to steer.
“Simon makes a good point, who’s going to cook now he’s not a baker anymore,” Urang posited. Magellan gave Crow a curious look. His head perked up, his shoulders descending, dragging him to an upright posture.
“I can’t cook, I’m a revolutionary my hands were made for seizing the mean of production not chopping vegetables,” his words a self assured proclamation. “I thought you were going to eat me orc, what do need a cook for,” Crow spat the words, contempt gripping a fleeting sense of condescension. Urang smiled gently then poked crow once more with the stick.
“What are you doing that for,” Crow protested, Urang withdrew the stick and began to rub it between his palms.
“what you said was stupid, i thought you might still be asleep,” said Urang. Crow lurched forward his eyes bulging with anger,
“Clearly I’m not,” he said. Magellan leaned forwards and lay a soft hand on crows shoulder “Stupid? You might be. Orcs are mostly vegan, they lack the proper enzymes to process meat and dairy. You’d know that if you were at all cultured,” Magellan said spreading her hands wide. Crow snarled and sat back up his neck raised high.
“Likes truffles though,” Urang declared with a childish grin.
Urang spun around with sudden burst of speed, he tapped Simon's shoulder.
“The camp’s close, four hundred meters off the trail. The cart came to gradual halt, Simon set his reins down, dismounted and set about stretching. Magellan’s hand found its way back to crow’s shoulder.
“How many of your bandit friends?” she asked with a level voice.
“How would I know?” Crow muttered sarcastically avoiding her gaze. Magellan’s hand tightened, crow felt nails dig into his muscles, uncomfortable but not unbearable. Magellan waiting, holding her grip for a moment before letting slip a coy smile.
“One of two things happens next, the information pops from your lips or this arm pops from its socket,”
Crow started sweating. he raced through his words, panic building as his shoulders tensed. “You know, the information one gets from interrogations isn’t very reliable, it’s a common misconception,” Magellan, still calm, considered this.
“It’s a fair point, guess I’ll just have to cast a hex on you, might turn your brain to mush in the process though, oh well can’t be avoided I suppose,” she took her palm from his shoulder and placed it on his head. “Sorry about this.” Crow flinched, shooting back while wailing in distress.
“Six, there’s six of them, Watch out for the one in priests cloths and the short one,” Urang and Simon exchanged a discrete smiles. Magellan shot them a look stifling their amusement.
Magellan snapped her fingers at Urang.
“you’re carrying him,” Urang’s cheeks inflated with a push out from his lungs, he breathed out directing the flow with his under bite to blow a lock of hair from his face.
“Surely you’re more suited to the task, so you should” Urang announced with thoughtless candour. Magellan blushed her eyes twitching slightly.
“you’re impotent in this valley for whatever reason, so you may as well make yourself useful,” her voice was strained with a forced flatness. Urang pulled crow from the cart and flung him over his shoulder winding crow on impact. Crow looked up Magellan with snide amusement “someone struck a nerve” Magellan’s outstretched hand shot towards crows exposed head. When a pale white clammy hand moved in the way, snapping Magellan’s reasoning back into place and saving crows neck.
Urang sniffed Crow, he sniffed again and gave a brief chuckle.
“You’re sweating now,” true enough dark patches had begun to seep their way across his shirt clinging green cloth. Magellan sighed, her dark tan face returning to a resting disaffected stare.
“You should have seen the last guy that tried it on with her. If the cobbles were toast, he’d have been the jam,” said Urang. Crow gulped, avoiding Magellan’s wandering gaze. Simons unmistakable palm slid down crows face, leaving what felt like a trail of snails slime in its wake.
“What was that for,” Crow snapped. Simon winked and moved to take point in their formation.
The group followed a trail off the road going single file through brambles, bushes and a small patches of bluebells. Simon stooped to pick a single flower and tucked it into his chest pocket. Ahead was a clearing,in which hammocks hung between trees. The embers of a fire sat under a suspended cauldron. there wasn’t a soul in sight save for a figure in a small iron cage, facing away from then; situated off to one side behind a row of tents.
“Ambush?” Magellan whispered. Urang sprung around, mischief ripe on his face.
“I don’t smell and ham in that bush,” the quip had barely left his mouth before a he started to lose his balance, he felt backwards pulled down by the sudden momentum of the spin thanks to crow’s weight. With a sudden thud Crows face pressed between a pile of detritus and the orcs fur overalls. He writhed and let out a muffled screech as a millipede brushed against his nose.
Simon helped the pair to their feet.
“A little warning would be nice,” Crow growled.
“Hold it,” a voice came from on ahead. A large man in a simple brown robe and a belt made from rope strung round his wide waist, his hair elesastical and face board.
“Thank you for returning out leader, but I’m afraid I can’t let you leave,” said the priest. Urang beamed again, shaking a head that might very well be concussed.
“Why are you afraid?” he asked. The man seemed confused he looked up into the trees for a moment then refocused on the group.
“I’m not, it’s just an expression, is there something wrong with you?” Urang stumbled a step forward and two groups of two appeared from behind the tents, bows drawn.
“One missing,” Magellan posited Glancing around,
“Not quite,” said a short man, barely five foot. he stood behind the group, spear hovering just behind Magellan’s back.
“Your magic won’t work in this mist sorceress, we have you dead to rights,” Crow said, more than a little pleased with himself. Urang fell to the ground for a second time. Everyone but Simon looked down in following his fall, he began to convulse on the floor a faint sound coming from his chest.
“Is he all right, how hard did you punch him?” Crow asked aghast. Magellan gave him an indignant look. The noise got louder, now clearly audible it was unmistakable deep roaring fit of giggles echoed out around them.
“He’s mad, he must be. What's so dam funny,” Crow shrieked at him. Urang sprang to his feet, dusted himself off and steadied his breathing to calmness.
“Nothing,” he said in with a hint of the lingering giggle fit that had possessed him moments prior.
A bandit hesitantly snaked over to the group, watching them with a cautious gaze, cut crows bonds and began binding the group.
“Watch out for the bald one, no one kill him, there’s something off about him,” Crow ordered rejoining his brown robed comrade in a friendly embrace.
“This lot is trouble fryer, they’re agents of the dark lord,” Crow said.
“Acolytes,” Magellan shouted correcting him.
“Just one of them took out my whole group,” Crow finished. The fryer looked Magellan over with interest too keen for a member of the priesthood.
“Another troublesome mage, Is she some sort of dark witch from the dark lord’s harem?” The fryer asked with a look of cold disdain. Magellan’s ears perked up and a twitch began flickering her left eyelid.
“Care to take that back?” she asked in a grating tone. Her arms fell to the side of body as the ropes that held her arms back without dropped away strain. Her expression becoming more and more bent out of shape until it more closely resembled that of a gurning orge. The short man took a step back startled by the sudden feat. Magellan began to pace towards the fryer black flames burning in her eyes. Her fists were clenched tight enough to squeeze blood from a stone.
“I shall not, you are a clearly a harlot.” pompous; the fryers words reverberated through her, her head cocked to one side as her eyes narrowed to slits. She stood petrified in place, her demeanour like stone.
“Four of them hidden in the tree’s,” Urang shouted. Magellan flickered back to an animate state. She cast her eyes to the canopy to see a volley of arrows ready to be loosed, before she could blink they had taken to flight, converging on her. Magellan leapt up into the air flipping her body into horizontal twist propelled by a sudden jerk of her legs and shoulders. Two of the arrows shot harmlessly into the ground. The third came close rearing to graze her abdomen. Her body contorted pulling itself out of the arrow's trajectory, the final arrow flew towards Simon, his eyed the shot and flung himself into its path with a sudden grimace, his body landed on the ground in bloody spasm.
“You lied crow, I’m impressed,” Magellan spoke with warmth that come from no longer completely disdaining a man.
“Again, Magic doesn’t work in these woods, I’m not too ignorant to know that, same fog that ruined our crop has stifled their mana,” He paused for a moment to consider, “How did the orc over there know?” Urang grinned looking more than a little pleased with himself, nothing better than having one's cunning noticed.
“Your fryer has a lousy poker face, he practically shouted their locations,” The fryer pouted and grabbed taxidermied green back fish from a pouch at his side and held it at up at Magellan.
“Be gone foul demon witch, the lord god greenback commands it,” Magellan began to stroll towards him, fire still burning in her eyes. The stride unperturbed by the holy symbol or the faith behind it. “I am no fan of violence; however I am no Mage, no witch, no sorcerer, and no member of any harem and most certainly no harlot… not that there's anything wrong with that, it’s just not me. But between you and me ‘fryer’ you’re killing my mood,” Magellan cracked her knuckles.
The fryer began to untie the knot from his belt.
“Fryer you mustn’t,” cried crow, the belt fell away landing on the ground with abrupt thump. “‘I will greatly increase your pains in childbearing; with pain you will give birth to children. Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you.’ this is scripture, I am the lord’s agent on this earth,” the fryer utter the words with fervent conviction eyes up reciting text from memory. Urang looked horrified with the utterance, genuine shock appearing playing on his face.
“Crow, you can’t be serious about this guy, you’re a bit judgey, I get that; but that just now, nasty” urang said, crow looked clearly uncomfortable. The fryer paid no mind to anyone’s objections. He disrobed revealing a torso clad in bulging tone muscle taken to grotesque proportions, arms thicker than trees and grizzled expression of focused rage. He felt into a fighting posture his arms raised, right outstretched and left twisted around palm ready to catch a thrown punch.
A slim trickle of vapour seemed to be rising into the air from Magellan. Her expression transcending anger into a blank stillness, a pool of black tar ready to engulf all resistance. “We will do no less than topple god from her throne,” she spoke with harsh inflections, the words floated in the air, hushing the open to an eerie stillness, the leaves stopped swaying. The fryer leapt forward springing into the air, his leg ready to strike with full force. Magellan dropped low bringing her arms around ready to redirect the blow. In a fractured second her palms pushed turning the priest like a leaver and sending him tumbling into the ground. A trail of dust followed in his wake across to the other side of the camp as he wheeled into the tents knocking them down like bowling pins.
The sudden crash woke the figure in the cage, an elegant well-trimmed light blue set of robes began to move under a pointed hat. Rising up with a long drawn out groan.
“It was such a boring dream,” a voice droned from under the hat. Out from the robe snaked a long fleshy tail. The robes rose up seeming to inflate. A long rodent’s snout poked out from under the hat, brimming with whiskers and covered in pale fur. A jolt tipped the hat backwards to reveal the large black eyes and lethargic expression of the creature.
“Is that a huge mouse?” Urang asked.
“I am a rat, everyone makes that mistake, just because I have a semblance of hygiene” Urang peered closer eyes twinkling.
“You’re A girl rat,” Urang’s voice climbed several octaves bursting with glee.
“Not making the best of first impressions but then you caught me chained up and fast asleep so I won’t fault you too hard for it,” the rat murmured before snapping a yawn.
“Are you interrupting my fight to talk to a rat?” Magellan said flustered.
“I have a name” the rat chimed in.
“yeah, sorry no offence meant…” Magellan gestured to the rat.
“Dorothy,” she enunciated with ruffled whiskers.
“Point stands, I’m in the middle of something,” Magellan finished. Urang turned back to the rat.
“That’s a lovely name Dorothy,” said urang drying too hard to sound debonair, Dorothy raised a hand to her chest and blushed slightly.
“adhem,” Magellan coughed deliberately bringing herself back into focus.
“He’s not a challenge for you and we all know it. You just dodged arrows in mid-air, you’re in near perfect condition and he isn’t even the leader,” Urang tutted taking a seat cross-legged on the ground.
“He might have a special technique,” Magellan countered.
“What do you think he was holding back his true strength with muscles the size of boulders? If you suspected he was holding back you’d have taken full advantage and knocked him out in one strike,” Urang raised both hands twisting his wrists in a gesture of disinterested whimsy.
The fryer had by this time cobbled himself back to his feet. His nose was trickling blood, his body was covered in scrapes and bruises, and he wheezed pushing air through strained breaths. Crow gasped in dismay.
“fryer, just apologise. We can’t lose our strongest horse, the cart of social revolution must move forward,” exclaimed crow. The fryer veins swelling over his body evocative of a mass of filarial worms under the skin.
“Fuck your stupid revolution, I need to cleanse this wicked soul,” he spat words with a hiss as though onto hot coals. Dorothy upturned her bottom lip revealing a set of incisors in an odd expression.
“I thought he just hated me personally, much more comforting to know he is just a misogynist,” she mused with an ironic abstract cheer.
The fryer charged fists ready with a pugilistic stance. His weight swayed side to side, avoiding telegraphing his planted strike.
“Left or right” he shouted with triumphed confidence. Magellan stood unimpressed, she sighed.
“Urang’s right, it’s kind of tedious at this point,” she leapt cleanly into the air soaring above the towering brutish mass. She looked up to see Simon perched in the tree sitting quite contently admiring the spectacle beside a group of unconscious bowmen. Magellan began her descent, plunging like a buzzard knee first straight into the nape of the fryer neck landing with a fierce thud, she twisted sending the mound of muscles into uncontrolled spasm. She kicked off without hesitation flipping through the air landing gracefully on the ground knees bent arms outstretched. “Looks like I hit a nerve,” she said; the crowd groaned.
The fryer feel to the ground barely moving.
“7/10 for the landing, 3/10 for the quip,” Urang proposed scratching notes onto a small piece of parchment.
“Piss off, that was good,” Magellan replied irate. Doherty shook her head.
“Liked the irony but far too cliché my dear, I have to side with your friend,” she said. Across the clearing head in arms crow had shrunk down low, the short man scampered over to him and placed an arm around him.
“It’s okay comrade, the influence of religion is an opioid of the masses, he is no revolutionary,” crow leaned over to the man and sobbing he spoke.
“I think they’re going to kill us now,” he sobbed craning round slowly realising his voice was far from hush.
“Hey crow, what’s with the rat,” Magellan asked, crow stood up and dusted himself off adopting a bald visard.
“she is the witch that covered the land in fog, a fog which ruined our crops and spurn forth our revolution against the establishment,” Urang turned to Dorothy.
“is that true?” he asked, Dorothy averted her gaze.
“Not exactly, i’m quite sure they’d be rebelling against the ‘establishment’ either way. however, I am in a way responsible for the fog, but it was not my doing.” Magellan frowned. “Don’t be cryptic, if this isn’t interesting on its own merits I’ll leave you to rot in that cage,” Magellan said flexing her fingers after their light exercise. Crow stepped forwards watching Dorothy with suspicion.
“She’s dangerous, don’t be trusting her, she nibbled Barry’s ear clean through. One of the bandits stepped forwards gesturing to their gnawed right ear lobe.
“Oh poppycock, his fault for manhandling a lady. If you really must know I was an apprentice to the wizard of iron tower: Faraday.” Dorothy’s mouth shuffled as though doped with a bitter tang. “Only I managed to surpass his talents, so the university decided to give me his stipend and let me take over the work.” Crow raised a hand.
“what does that have to do with it,” Dorothy gave a toothy smile.
“If you’re not going to use those ears darling I have other uses for them,” dorothy said, the smile drop but the teeth remain, She resumed, “Well he threw a hissy fit. Decided to wake his experiment early and then cast a shroud of mist over the valley that nullifies all further magic.”
“Where do the formless eldritch demons come in,” the short man asked perplexed.
“What demons” Urang asked now equally perplexed.
“The demons that keep our crops from growing,” Crow uttered hand on his friends shoulder. “Nonsense, this whole valley is laden with mana rich soil. The fog therefor is stopping your crops from thriving like they otherwise would, i’m really surprised there aren't more undead around,” Dorothy said. Urang snapped his fingers with sudden realisation,
“Is that why we came here Magellan?” Urang leg twitched as he felt the excited shoot up it like a lighting bolt. Magellan nodded with a coy smile.
“It’s never straight forward, wherever we go. Conflict seems to follow like this fog,” Magellan said running her hands over it, examining closely for the first time the moisture that hung in the air.
“So are we sticking our noses in their business again?” Urang asked resigned to the answer he knew would follow.
“Who said we wanted your help!?” crow barked, fear dissipated, now standing with bandits at his back with a semblance of resolve in his posture.
“This is our uprising, we the people, our families displaced, forced to pillage for our survival, the mantle is ours to bear; not yours to take servants of evil,” Urang looked at him with something close to respect, though not quiet.
“Right, you heard the man leave them to die,” Urang said springing to his feet and walking over to Dorothy.
“Wait I didn’t mean it, we’d really appreciate some help, even if you did kill our men,” Urang turned to with a smile.
“technically Simon didn’t kill anyone,” he said with a weighed measure of condensation crow looked at him with suspicion.
“but the blood on his hands,” Urang shrugged,
“normally he beats them to a bloody pulp,” Urang said. a clap came from up in the trees, all looked up to see Simon patiently watching the discourse bellow, he smiled with an eerie grin and raised a his thumb.
“See told you he didn’t kill anyone, technically,”
“Why? Why help us? You’ve shown nothing but irreverence for our cause since you arrived,” crow asked.
“You started it, you shot Simon and made nasty insinuations,” Magellan replied with a flurry of hand gestures. A loud metallic thump echoed out in the forest.
“The demon,” the short man exclaimed.
“That’s not a demon,” Magellan pursed her lips and turned to face the direction of the noise. Another thump trailed seconds later.
“Sounds like a cannon?” Urang muttered. He sniffed trying to pull a scent out of the hues of odours that ran through the camp. “Sulfur, it's closer than it sounds.” worry flashed on Urang’s face.
“Crow the key,” Urang snapped his fingers in quick succession with growing urgency. Crow rushed over to the collapsed tents and began to search the wreckage that’d been their home.
Dorothy grasped the metal bars of her cage and began to shake them gently twitching and looking over her shoulder.
“What is it,” Urang asked, delicate concern in his normally gruff tones.
“C.A.T,” said Dorothy, her voice quivered, the demeanour of calm set aside for a near feral panic. The approaching footsteps died down. Urang scanned the treeline searching for a glimpse of the creature.
“We’re being stalked,” her voice was muted in expression and tone, sterile. “It’ll circle and lurk until an opportunity to attack arises.” Magellan looked up to Simon in the tree line.
“Eyes on the perimeter Simon, let us know if something approaches” she said, Simon gestured a two then half closed his palm and pointed to his eyes. Magellan nodded, “Simon says he can only see two hundred meters ahead, any idea which direction Urang,” Urang shrugged.
“haven’t the foggiest,” he smiled. Magellan shot him a look of disapproval.
“what?” he replied indignantly.
“Not the time,” she replied curtly.
Urang let out a silent “ah”.
“Crow where is that key?” Magellan inquired sternly. “It was here a minute ago” he said distracted riffling through a duffle bag. His men had joined in his search, each peaking, dipping and diving under the felled tents.
“Magellan you might have to carry it,” Urang suggested tentatively, Magellan grimaced and gave the cage a sideways glance. A branch snapped and all swivelled to face it, they stared into the whirling tendriled structure of the fog. The bandits froze in place while Dorothy vibrated manically in her cage.
“It’s behind us. Don’t turn around,” Urang said tensing his arms axe gripped in hand. “Magellan grab the mage and run, north is your best bet,” Urang said, giving a hand signal hands to indicate the course. Magellan furled her brow for a moment and then nodded.
“Fear the hunters might,” Urang cried spinning around to face the beast. A mismatched mesh of metal and fur stood five meters tall, a mane made from steel coils and dead eyes emphasised a putrid breath. The beast was rigid in its stillness. Its posture uncomfortable, even to look at. Urang feet refused a charge.
“you’re not moving,” he spoke audibly into his breaths.
“Neither are you,” Magellan replied.
“Never mind,” he muttered gurning to pull his tusks to prominence. His eyes glanced over the jutting metallic protrusions inserted into the creature’s limbs.
“Mustn’t get hit by those,” he noted. A low whine came from Dorothy and Urang’s eyes fell away from the creature for a second. He felt a rush of air moving towards him and dropped down into a forward rolls narrowly dodging the creature’s swipe. The creatures leg held stiff in the air perfectly still at the end of it’s arc, the creatures balance hadn’t shifted, and it stood on three legs, balancing without a show of outwards effort.
“Cryptic thing,” he thought. Magellan broke into a sprint darting for the cage. The arms came back around rotating around the joints in a manner that was brazenly unnatural to bring it directly into Magellan’s path. Its front legs now cross Urang charged, ducking low and readying himself to swipe at any sign of a tendon. The creatures back leg bent forwards as Urang passed under the creature's enormous head. it’s underside a latticework of tubes, beams and half rotten flesh. He suppressed the discomfort from seeing it’s act of contortion and dove left. The leg rushed at him punting his side and sending him tumbling across the leaf litter and into a nearby tree.
Urang stumbled to his feet. Shaking off the daze, as by habit he flexed his mind trying to pull on any mana store nearby but found nothing, he grumbled in annoyance and pulled a small tightly wound pouch from his belt.
“Simon, two shots: one head, one leg,” Urang shouted with militaristic discipline. Arrows came whistling from the treeline each striking with pinpoint precision only to ricochet off without leaving a scratch. Urang pulled arm back dropping and pivoted to one side, as he turned back around he tossed a rock at the creature. It held still unreactive as the rock dinked off the side.
“it doesn’t flinch, even when it can see us.” Magellan nodded in agreement. Crow snapped from his passive survey. He grabbed an unlit torch from the ground.
“It’s a siege machine, crossed with a beast but we will not see the benefit such advance would bring,” he declared, setting the torch between his legs and pulling from his pockets pieces of flint and steel. In an instant he had clinked the sparks, igniting for the torch. The creature perked up raising its head to centre its attention on the torch.
“Hold still!” Magellan snapped.
“I have black powder,” Urang said nonchalantly weaving the charges between his fingers. “I’ve told you not to play with that stuff,” Magellan snapped, her voice an inverse of his own.
“How many,” Magellan asked eyes straining on the creature.
“Three” Urang replied with a grin.
“It’d be unfortunate if I let you harm my beast before it kills that dirty rat,” a high pitched voice rang out in the mists and the creature started to back away.
“Kill that orc,” the voice commanded, its tone aspired to be harsh and full of malice but instead came out as an irritating squeak. The jaw of the beast dropped with a screeth of metal on metal. It swirled to face Urang, the cast iron rim of a cannon emerged from the darkness within.
“I’m fucked” Urang noted solemnly. Urang flinched as the sudden deafening howl of the cannon sprung forth a shot into the air. He felt sudden panic rush of his own demise barrelling through the air at him. His body constricted and panic flooded his mind.
A body shot through the air leaving a trail of blood in its wake but Urang still stood shivering, he looked over to the bloodied mangled mess.
“Am I dead?” he wondered in his mind, the world around him feeling distant, sound mutes by the deafen ringing in his ears from the cannon shot.
“I don’t want to go,” he exclaimed.
“This life is… but still I must cling on” dizzying disorientation took over as Urang felt cold hands lifted him upwards, Rotating the horizon restraining his movement. The sudden motion flicked his head against a solid object and he fell unconscious.
“You started it, you shot Simon and made nasty insinuations,” Magellan replied with a flurry of hand gestures. A loud metallic thump echoed out in the forest.
“The demon,” the short man exclaimed.
“That’s not a demon,” Magellan pursed her lips and turned to face the direction of the noise. Another thump trailed seconds later.
“Sounds like a cannon?” Urang muttered. He sniffed trying to pull a scent out of the hues of odours that ran through the camp. “Sulfur, it's closer than it sounds.” worry flashed on Urang’s face.
“Crow the key,” Urang snapped his fingers in quick succession with growing urgency. Crow rushed over to the collapsed tents and began to search the wreckage that’d been their home.
Dorothy grasped the metal bars of her cage and began to shake them gently twitching and looking over her shoulder.
“What is it,” Urang asked, delicate concern in his normally gruff tones.
“C.A.T,” said Dorothy, her voice quivered, the demeanour of calm set aside for a near feral panic. The approaching footsteps died down. Urang scanned the treeline searching for a glimpse of the creature.
“We’re being stalked,” her voice was muted in expression and tone, sterile. “It’ll circle and lurk until an opportunity to attack arises.” Magellan looked up to Simon in the tree line.
“Eyes on the perimeter Simon, let us know if something approaches” she said, Simon gestured a two then half closed his palm and pointed to his eyes. Magellan nodded, “Simon says he can only see two hundred meters ahead, any idea which direction Urang,” Urang shrugged.
“haven’t the foggiest,” he smiled. Magellan shot him a look of disapproval.
“what?” he replied indignantly.
“Not the time,” she replied curtly.
Urang let out a silent “ah”.
“Crow where is that key?” Magellan inquired sternly. “It was here a minute ago” he said distracted riffling through a duffle bag. His men had joined in his search, each peaking, dipping and diving under the felled tents.
“Magellan you might have to carry it,” Urang suggested tentatively, Magellan grimaced and gave the cage a sideways glance. A branch snapped and all swivelled to face it, they stared into the whirling tendriled structure of the fog. The bandits froze in place while Dorothy vibrated manically in her cage.
“It’s behind us. Don’t turn around,” Urang said tensing his arms axe gripped in hand. “Magellan grab the mage and run, north is your best bet,” Urang said, giving a hand signal hands to indicate the course. Magellan furled her brow for a moment and then nodded.
“Fear the hunters might,” Urang cried spinning around to face the beast. A mismatched mesh of metal and fur stood five meters tall, a mane made from steel coils and dead eyes emphasised a putrid breath. The beast was rigid in its stillness. Its posture uncomfortable, even to look at. Urang feet refused a charge.
“you’re not moving,” he spoke audibly into his breaths.
“Neither are you,” Magellan replied.
“Never mind,” he muttered gurning to pull his tusks to prominence. His eyes glanced over the jutting metallic protrusions inserted into the creature’s limbs.
“Mustn’t get hit by those,” he noted. A low whine came from Dorothy and Urang’s eyes fell away from the creature for a second. He felt a rush of air moving towards him and dropped down into a forward rolls narrowly dodging the creature’s swipe. The creatures leg held stiff in the air perfectly still at the end of it’s arc, the creatures balance hadn’t shifted, and it stood on three legs, balancing without a show of outwards effort.
“Cryptic thing,” he thought. Magellan broke into a sprint darting for the cage. The arms came back around rotating around the joints in a manner that was brazenly unnatural to bring it directly into Magellan’s path. Its front legs now cross Urang charged, ducking low and readying himself to swipe at any sign of a tendon. The creatures back leg bent forwards as Urang passed under the creature's enormous head. it’s underside a latticework of tubes, beams and half rotten flesh. He suppressed the discomfort from seeing it’s act of contortion and dove left. The leg rushed at him punting his side and sending him tumbling across the leaf litter and into a nearby tree.
Urang stumbled to his feet. Shaking off the daze, as by habit he flexed his mind trying to pull on any mana store nearby but found nothing, he grumbled in annoyance and pulled a small tightly wound pouch from his belt.
“Simon, two shots: one head, one leg,” Urang shouted with militaristic discipline. Arrows came whistling from the treeline each striking with pinpoint precision only to ricochet off without leaving a scratch. Urang pulled arm back dropping and pivoted to one side, as he turned back around he tossed a rock at the creature. It held still unreactive as the rock dinked off the side.
“it doesn’t flinch, even when it can see us.” Magellan nodded in agreement. Crow snapped from his passive survey. He grabbed an unlit torch from the ground.
“It’s a siege machine, crossed with a beast but we will not see the benefit such advance would bring,” he declared, setting the torch between his legs and pulling from his pockets pieces of flint and steel. In an instant he had clinked the sparks, igniting for the torch. The creature perked up raising its head to centre its attention on the torch.
“Hold still!” Magellan snapped.
“I have black powder,” Urang said nonchalantly weaving the charges between his fingers. “I’ve told you not to play with that stuff,” Magellan snapped, her voice an inverse of his own.
“How many,” Magellan asked eyes straining on the creature.
“Three” Urang replied with a grin.
“It’d be unfortunate if I let you harm my beast before it kills that dirty rat,” a high pitched voice rang out in the mists and the creature started to back away.
“Kill that orc,” the voice commanded, its tone aspired to be harsh and full of malice but instead came out as an irritating squeak. The jaw of the beast dropped with a screeth of metal on metal. It swirled to face Urang, the cast iron rim of a cannon emerged from the darkness within.
“I’m fucked” Urang noted solemnly. Urang flinched as the sudden deafening howl of the cannon sprung forth a shot into the air. He felt sudden panic rush of his own demise barrelling through the air at him. His body constricted and panic flooded his mind.
A body shot through the air leaving a trail of blood in its wake but Urang still stood shivering, he looked over to the bloodied mangled mess.
“Am I dead?” he wondered in his mind, the world around him feeling distant, sound mutes by the deafen ringing in his ears from the cannon shot.
“I don’t want to go,” he exclaimed.
“This life is… but still I must cling on” dizzying disorientation took over as Urang felt cold hands lifted him upwards, Rotating the horizon restraining his movement. The sudden motion flicked his head against a solid object and he fell unconscious.
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