Chapter 15 Demon #2
A few more nerve-wracking days later, Kraghtol could tell they were getting close to the center, and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.
The area had stopped making sense altogether.
Paths went downhill both ways, and going in a full circle didn’t end them up where they started.
Kraghtol didn’t recognize any of the plants anymore, but all of them looked dangerous and downright insidious.
The foliage was so dense that even during the day the light was dim, and almost black during the night.
They were forced to make camp early at dusk, and Kraghtol hoped the same held true for the orderkeepers.
As usual, Valir was practicing the lyre, and by now, Kraghtol actually looked forward to the sound of it.
It was predictable, which was more than could be said for everything else.
While Dagna was fidgeting with her mechanical parts, he stared into the darkening fog, like he did every evening, searching for any sign of their pursuers.
The swirling mist made it hard to tell, and he had been wrong before, so when he saw movement, he first took a second look.
To his horror, this time, there was no denying it. Something was moving towards them.
“They’re coming!” he said and stumbled to his feet, grabbing the branch he used to stake his way firmly. Immediately, Valir stopped playing, and silence fell.
“That’s no human,” Dagna said as a low growl pierced the fog, followed by the breaking of twigs.
“I wish it were,” Valir said dryly while backing off until his back hit a tree.
“Quiet!” Kraghtol pressed out between his teeth.
His eyes darted between the shifting tendrils of fog as he tried to find the source of the noise.
Darkness was setting in quickly now, and the shadows of trees against the dancing flames of their campfire projected onto the moisture.
Wood cracked, and the half-orc twitched.
He could feel his heart beating in his throat so much it threatened to cut off his air.
Whatever was out there in the fog circled slowly around them, not stepping into the light of the fire yet.
Another hard to pinpoint growl vibrated through the moist air.
One more branch broke with a loud snap, and Kraghtol could see Valir jump away from the source in the corner of his eye. He must have dropped his lyre, causing another sharp note to ring, and the creature jumped at them.
It was hideous, and unlike anything Kraghtol had ever seen.
A mouth full of razor-sharp teeth slavered green, slimy-looking drool.
It was attached to a wagon-sized body covered in bristly, dirty and irregular fur, occasionally broken by horns that looked like brambles.
The creature had five legs ending in equally sharp claws cutting through the foliage, and as inappropriate as the thought was right now, Kraghtol couldn’t help but ask himself if it had lost a sixth.
He didn’t know a single animal with an odd number of limbs.
The ridiculous thought dissipated quickly as he realized the nature-defying creature was about to attack.
Someone was shouting something, and without his active doing, Kraghtol launched himself right at it.
His body moved entirely on its own now, and he was terrified as he swung his stick in a feeble attempt to fend off the nightmarish creature.
The half-orc was screaming incoherently, the rational part of his mind all but gone.
He hit the terrifying snout that could snap him in half without trouble, and his stick broke.
The creature didn’t even seem to notice.
The fur hid a leathery hide that was hard as brick.
Suddenly and miraculously, the beast stopped mid-sprint, using all five legs to brake, covering Kraghtol in mud in the process.
He could smell the foul breath as it remained in front of him for a few heartbeats, and he didn’t dare to move.
Finally, the creature gave a grunt and turned around, slowly now, and retreated into the impenetrable fog.
“Stone’s balls. What was that?” Dagna’s shaking voice was the first to dare speak.
“I don’t —” Kraghtol began, but was interrupted by Valir’s flat voice.
“A demon. And no one ever made it back, for demons roam the swamp.”
“What’s a demon?” Kraghtol asked, but before the noble could answer, Dagna was already on him.
“And you didn’t think to mention that before? You knew there were these… demons, and you didn’t think to tell us?!”
Valir raised his arms in defense. “There’s no such thing as demons. It’s just a story to scare children! None of it is real!”
He sighed. “At least that’s what I thought. But I guess if there is such a thing as a demon, we now know what it looks like. Not exactly friendly.”
“It didn’t attack, though. Perhaps it was just as surprised as we were.” Kraghtol said. “Like a startled animal.”
“Yeah, let’s just hope there aren’t more of them out there. I’m not sure I’ve brought enough spare pants.” Dagna said, and the joke helped to dissipate some of the tension. Valir even chuckled.
Kraghtol was distracted. His eyes had latched onto the discarded lyre on the ground, and his mind was jumping three steps ahead.
“I know how we can stop the orderkeepers.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea? ‘Risky’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
They weren’t far from the campsite where they met the demon — against all protests from Valir, the name had caught on — on a small mound overlooking a muddy basin. The noble was pacing up and down, while Dagna was surveying their surroundings.
It hadn’t been the first time Valir had asked that question, and Kraghtol answered the same way he always did. “No. I don’t think it’s a good idea, but we all agreed it could work. Besides — ”
“I see them!” Dagna called out, causing the other two to fall silent.
It had only been one day of waiting, meaning the orderkeepers would have caught up with them rather sooner than later.
Kraghtol, too, could see the shine of fire, and realized their pursuers had torches.
No wonder they could cover more way than Kraghtol and his friends could.
He nodded towards Valir and got in position.
The noble was hidden from sight, but only moments later, the metallic-sounding notes of the lyre cut through the air as he practiced his scales again.
Dagna was in position as well, which left only Kraghtol, who took a deep breath and stepped out onto the hill, his green skin clearly illuminated by the campfire.
Only moments later, the four officials clad in red stepped onto the muddy clearing.
It was indeed Roderic Hawke, his impressive mustache disappearing into a wild, full beard not unlike the one on Kraghtol’s own face.
He was accompanied by two women and one man, who looked little better than their leader.
They were covered in cuts and bruises, and mud all over their red uniforms. But where they looked tired, Roderic himself exuded an entirely different energy.
His eyes shone in the flickering light with manic madness, and Kraghtol wondered if that was what happened when the human mind couldn’t take the chaos all around anymore.
He waited until the orderkeepers were well into the open area before he shouted.
“Orderkeeper Hawke! You need to stop! You can’t follow me anymore.”
The bloodjacket did stop indeed, a grin of superiority forming on his dirty face.
“Ha! Look at you. Has your fey-cursed luck finally run out? You thought you could escape the law by running from justice, but it looks like you have finally hit a dead end.”
He spat out onto the ground. “Nobody escapes the law. And the law am I!”
Kraghtol raised both of his hands, showing the officials the empty palms while behind him, Valir kept playing. His eyes scanned the moving fog but couldn’t see anything. Had he been wrong about the luring effect of the music?
“You don’t have to do that. I did nothing wrong. Someone else has killed the guild master. I have seen it happen.”
“Your lies get you nowhere, orc scum.” Even in the dim light, Kraghtol could see the drops of spit flying from the man’s mouth.
“You have been found guilty of murdering local guild master Thalen Virex in response to expulsion from the Alchemists’ Guild.
Your punishment is death, finally, and I’m more than happy to enforce that sentence right here and now. ”
With that, the orderkeepers continued trudging through the mud. Roderic’s three companions didn’t look nearly as zealous as himself, but they followed. Still, no movement in the fog, so Kraghtol tried to stall again.
“You don’t understand! You need to run! We’re not safe here!”
His eyes focused on a spot behind the orderkeepers. Finally.
“Not safe? Of course it’s not safe here, but that won’t keep me from bringing the guild’s justice to you, just like we did to your f—”
“The demon’s here!” Kraghtol shouted, and a lot of things happened at the same time.
Valir’s lyre rang with a loud and shrill tone, just as Dagna cut the concealed string.
Immediately, the thorny branches they had bound back snapped back into place, surrounding the muddy area with dense and spiky foliage on all sides but one: back.
And the demon pounced from the fog, just as it had last time.
Kraghtol dove into cover behind the bush Valir was hiding behind.
He couldn’t see through the branches. Screams erupted down in the clearing, and Kraghtol couldn’t blame them.
The demon was a terrifying sight to behold.
There wasn’t much room behind the bush, and he could feel the noble next to him tremble.
Instinctively, he placed a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s okay. We know the demon’s harmless,” he whispered.
The orderkeepers’ screams sounded more panicked by the moment, and when he heard a tearing sound, followed by a gurgle that cut off one voice, Kraghtol froze.