Oathbreaker

XIII: From The Brink of Death

Nedra gripped tightly around the scale covered horn of Drakarax as the lumbering Dragonborn ran through the forest. She thought that with his size, he'd be doing more damage to the foliage, yet his seemed to almost glide through the forest like a pike, skillfully swimming through open water. Drakarax still followed the guidance of the dire wolf spirit, feeling her energy pulling him toward her slayer. He silently hoped that their injuries weren't too great, for if they were, he worried if he had the energy to heal them. He hadn't gotten any sleep since the night before the forest fire began raging.

Drakarax followed the spirit until he arrived at the edge of the halfling village the wolf showed in her vision. The place radiated with an energy that felt both cheerful and melancholy. A whole community of halflings used to call this village home. Drakarax had been here before also. Here, the halflings gathered with forest gnomes, dryads and satyrs, to develop a community of forest dwelling folk in the village. This place held within it a strong connection with the nature and forest around it. Drakarax frowned as he felt the depressing energy that radiated from the very forest itself. A great loss had taken place here. No more inhabitants called this place home as they once had. No halflings, gnomes, dryads, satyrs, not even any halfling livestock existed here anymore. The whole village was devoid of life, save for Drakarax and his amphibious companion.

Drakarax felt the dire wolf spirit presence in a wooden structure on the far edge of the village. He walked to it, hunching low as to not hit his head on the halfling sized doorframe and stepping into the worn wooden building. The radiance that he felt outside in the village was felt ten fold in here, as this building used to be a tavern. Friends, lovers, foes and merrymakers would gather here every night, drinking and gambling, singing and dancing, making fond memories with each other and laughing. The halfling laughter echoed from the wood of the building, choked out by whatever manner of force took the halflings from this place. Drakarax thought for a moment, wondering what could've happened to them. Just then, he felt the spirit again. He felt her lay in the center of the open tavern, a mixed stench of blood, body oder, halfling ale and nightshade snuck into Drakarax's nostrils. He slowly walked in the direction of smell and felt his foot hit a solid mass on the floor. He knelt down and placed his hands on what he'd just kicked, feeling cold, clammy flesh. He lifted his head toward where he last felt the wolf spirit.

"Lend me your sight, wolf mother." Drakarax asked. He felt the spirit's energy shift and felt his mind open through her eyes. He saw himself kneeling over a large being with pale skin, a white dire wolf pelt was fashioned into a cloak that they wore around their torso, and several black tattoos were visible on the exposed skin. The being was lying in a curled position and a pool of blood had soaked into the floorboards around where he lay. Drakarax recognized the being as a goliath, a race of tribal humanoids that lived primarily in the mountains, much like his own clan from previous years. He gently rolled the goliath onto his back and began to scan the body for outward injuries. He felt down his torso and over his abdomen where he felt a deep, jagged wound that reeked of nightshade. He checked the goliath's arms and legs, then gently rolled him over to check his back. A large gash that started between his shoulders and ran down diagonally to the being's pelvis was visible and was still bleeding profusely. Drakarax noticed from the spirit's point of view a large hole in the ceiling and upper floor of the tavern. They lined up perfectly with where the goliath lay, and the floorboards on which he lay were damaged slightly. This body had fallen through the roof of the tavern, and the gash on his back was a result of said crash. Drakarax lowered the goliath back onto his back, hovered a hand over the being's mouth and set the other on the chest. He felt no breath, no chest heaving, not even a heartbeat. This goliath, by all accounts, was dead.

But still, Drakarax felt the slightest bit of life still burning within the body. He knew, by the powers granted to him, he had to try to heal the goliath. He stood, focused his energy into a telekinetic spell and lifted the heavy body of the goliath from the floor. He levitated the body out of the tavern and laid him in the dirt path that wound through the village. The dire wolf spirit followed them out and into the open, sitting down next to the body as Drakarax gently set him onto the ground. He knelt over the body again, closing his eyes and drawing upon the remainder of his energy. He pulled it from all different parts of him, coalescing the energy into his hands. He breathed deep, pulling the radiant energy from the surrounding village and making it join with the rest. Once he felt as though he had enough energy, he put his hands palms down onto the dirt and began shimmying them, letting the cool soil envelop his hands. As he did this, he felt another spiritual presence form and materialize in front of him. The presence seemed to hide its emotion until it had fully formed, but once it had, Drakarax felt the presence bristle with anger and hatred. Not hatred towards him, but hatred towards the goliath in front of him. Drakarax focused on the new spirit, eventually deciphering it an aspect of the forest itself.