The Tomb of Den Divzar

Chapter Three: The Mystery of the Woods

Tol jumped forward to meet the creature with his steel as it plowed forth from the wood's dark embrace. The clashing of steel sounded out as the noble's blade struck against a crude arm formed of rusted metal. The hulking excuse for a weapon swung back and swept out at the knight quickly after as Tol jumped away, narrowly avoiding its cleave. His taller companion, though slower, remembered he too was capable of fighting and readied to jump into the fight. Kirnen's axes snapped into his hands off his hip as he took up a swaying stance that resembled a cactus. Hogart, in a strange display, jumped away from the melee as if he was weightless, and drifted lightly onto a nearby stump.

As the chivalrous Tol pushed forward off his heels, blade singing towards the creature, his eyes drank in the visage of the thing before him. Its face was like that of a hog's, but missing all of its flesh, and two milky eyes sat loosely in its sockets. Inside the exposed skull its nerves and brain twisted openly as they pulsed in a strange display of life. At the creature's neck it was as if its skin had been peeled back and the skin meant for its face hung loosely like a hood, but even lower still it's bare chest was like that of a man's and it's all too human muscles gleamed in the mid-day sun. Tol was phased for only a moment, his stance slipping as he swung. The abomination, sensing his moment of weakness, quickly turned his blade and sent a ferocious headbutt into Tol's forehead. The knight reeled and fell backwards into the leaf-riddled mud, his armor finely sullied. Before the hogman could continue his assault however, the silent Kirnen jumped to his comrade's aide. Kirnen's form was ethereal to behold as he seemed to dance on the wind snapping between nearly imperceptible motion to lightning quickness. As the pigman swung at the oncoming attacker, he would find his foul blade parried by the mystifying technique of the north. Tol regained his footing and as Kirnen pushed their assailant backwards the knight rejoined the fight. The two now flowed together, the determined and well executed swings of the west and the avalanche slashes of the north, falling stoutly onto the failing defenses of the fiend. Just as the creature's foot touched the edge of the treeline the pigman squealed a horrifying cry and threw a desperate haymaker into the face of the albino northling. Tol looked over to see his companion drop as if weighted by irons before turning back to the pigman.

He stopped, stunned into complete stillness, as the sounds of the forest returned around him. The creature was nowhere to be seen. Kirnen stood slowly, his head surely aching as Tol blinked and turned in circles trying to find what they had just been fighting. Kirnen turned to Tol, who couldn't help but observe the swelling on his eye, and bleated to him softly.

"What happened to that thing?"

"This I cannot say. I am certain that such a fiendish monstrosity would not stray far. I could swear myne eyes left it for not even a moment." Tol responded, his forehead swelling in equal measure.

Kirnen rasped back, "We were fighting something right? My head swims... I cannot recall now."

Tol observed the pale man for a moment then touched his glove to his injured forehead. Feeling nothing, he spoke again.

"Indeed, what was myne assailant? Twas a... Hog? No, that was something the wizard said in jest, was it not?"

Kirnen blinked and scanned the surrounding clearing until his eyes settled on the mage in question, who lounged placidly smoking a pipe atop a tree-stump.

"Plains-born, what have we faced in these woods?"

Hogart chuckled, taking a long draw off his smoking stick, and spoke calmly to the pair.

"I believe we've faced a severe lack of lunch gentlemen. I'm feeling rather peckish. What do you say to a bit of mid-day snacking?"

Kirnen glanced around again, but stopped after he forgot what he was looking for. Tol touched his head again absently and turned in circles once more. After this had gone on for a minute Tol stopped, and snapped himself back into focus. The man clapped his hands and called aloud,

"Right! We art wasting time. The tomb, lest myne party hath forgotten."

And again his blade began to cleave through the orange leaves of the forest as the leaf litter crunched under his boots. Kirnen plodded after and Hogart slowly tucked away his pipe, trodding after in his own due time. Just as the wizard crossed the threshold of the trees he turned his eyes back to the clearing, his smile dropping briefly, before scanning for something imperceptible. Without a word, he turned and followed his companions.