Pinocchio : Wizard Of The Woods

Chapter Two: Unraveling Secrets

The grooks led Hangen beneath the castle, their torches casting flickering shadows on the ancient stone walls. The air grew colder and damper as they descended deeper into the dungeons, a place rarely visited by any but the most desperate souls.

"The Elverish Forest is becoming unsettled, there have been rumors," one of the grooks, Sokken, began. "We need a guild to help us locate the Wizard of the Woods."

Hangen, skeptical, scoffed. "If there is one, The Wizard of the Woods? Come on, I've heard the tales, besides the wood creatures don't stray from the Elverish Forest. And they speak in a language not many people understand."

"They do now," Sokken replied, his tone grim as they continued through the labyrinthine passages.

Sokken elaborated on their destination. "We're going to see a prisoner. He and a few others tried to gain access to the castle. They just walked right up to the front gate and tried to get in, Dumb trees! Their mission was to take away the young prince. They put up a good fight—"

"That doesn't make any sense, why would they want the prince?" Hangen interrupted. "The wood creatures never stray. Most people think they're just stories. You're telling me you caught them?"

"Just One, now." Sokken corrected. "The others weren't so cooperative. It seemed they were willing to die for their cause."

"We made sure the king's fireplace had enough wood to last for the winter," Magah laughed, a harsh sound echoing through the dungeon.

They approached a dark cell, and Hangen saw a wood soldier—a lean, sickly creature whose bark had been pulled out in various places, leaving it strained and bruised. It hung heavily from a suspended machination, its once vibrant body now a testament to cruelty.

"He calls himself Hogarth," Sokken said. "Looks like he was the leader of the pack—or the leader."

Hogarth lifted his head, eyes glowing faintly. "The rebel force is much and plenty. We are many. Do not mistake that, human."

Hangen was startled. The wood creature spoke in their language. "He speaks our language," he murmured.

"There is more I can do, humans," Hogarth dared. "Release me, and you will find out."

"Shut up!" Magah barked. "You will do only as we have told you, or else we'll chop you up just like we did to your comrades. The fireplace is still filled with their ashes!"

Hogarth fell silent, but his eyes remained defiant as he and Hangen locked gazes.

"Is the wizard real?" Hangen asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"He is," Hogarth replied. "And for your sake, for all your sakes, pray to the Mother Spirit he remains that way."

The ominous words hung in the air, the silence of the dungeon growing thicker with the weight of Hogarth's revelation

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Somewhere in the borderland villages bordering the Elverish Forest, a group of five hunters ventured deeper into the woods. Their faces were etched with determination and greed, the promise of bigger kills luring them further away from the safety of their village.

"Turn back, I'm telling you. It's not worth it," urged Garrick, the youngest of the group. His voice trembled with a mix of fear and conviction.

"You're such a coward, Garrick," sneered Boran, the unofficial leader of the group. "Don't believe in those fairy tales about the Wood King. They're just rumors to scare off fools."