The Sword Of Evernight

Tholk and the Boj swarm

Part 1:

On the second day, Thrand had gotten used to the pain. It was deep set now, a constant unwanted presence. He was fit and he healed quickly, but with healing came pain. He looked around the camp Hal had set and at the sword in his hand. He realised how intricately crafted the handle was. It looked as if two Wyrms entwined themselves, dancing a dance of death. He observed the blade was perfectly waited and curved in a way just enough to maximise speed and cutting power. It tapered nicely to a point in a sick, serpentine way. A graceful weapon, fit for killing.

Hal looked up from the piece of wood he was whittling.

"Did you hear that?"

"What?" asked Thrand, perking up at a deviation from the boring routine he had fallen into.

"I don't know... these woods give me a bad feeling..." his voice was downcast and weary, like a child who has lost their favorite toy. "Like you're being watched by something or someone.." he quickly added the last part, sprinting over the words.

"I'm sure it's nothing," replied Thrand, not believing his own words, "the fire will repel most night-prowling beasts"

"You're right." replied Hal handing Thrand a small bowl of stew. "Here, eat this, it will help your recovery."

The two men sat around the fire as they ate, and after they finished, went to sleep.

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The next morning, Hal woke early, to find a blanket of dew covering the ground. He stood up, stretching and grimacing at the stale taste in his mouth. He made his way to tend to the horses. A screech broke the early morning silence, and Hal spun around as small furry creature with red eyes jumped on him from a tree. It tore at his cloak and he scrambled to get it off him. As the small vicious creature bit and clawed at him, Hal lost his balance, toppling onto the beast. The creature screeched again, cowering for a moment before jumping back onto Hal. he kicked it and pulling himself to his feet, stomped down hard on the creature. Blood spurted from beneath his boot, and bone crunched. With one finally noise, the creature let go of life and was quiet and still.

He examined the small mangled corpse, cursing and letting out a low whistle. The creature had sported long sharp teeth and claws like arrow heads. Hal thought he recognised a creature with similar characteristics from an old tome he had once read from master Kyav's library. "A Boj," it had been called, "is a vicious creatures distantly related to Durh." Hal, in his panting state, did not comprehend the magnitude of that, at least not yet.

Hal tended to the horses, watering them and making sure their horseshoes were tight and without stuck pebbles. When finished, he woke Thrand and helped him onto a horse. They rode through the forest, and onward to a small hamlet known as Tholk. As they rode down the main street- the only street- it began to rain, and soon, the dirt track was reduced to slushy mud. Hal brought the horses to the stable of the small inn and went to book a room, leaving Thrand to wander about the city. He trudged to a small bakery and entered. Warm, sweetness wafted up to him, sending contentedness through him. He could hear crackling fire of the oven and a plump, pale woman sat behind the counter, quietly counting coins. Thrand's mouth watered as he thought of how amazing a loaf of bread or a tart would taste. He fished in his pocket for a coin, and after exchanging the typical pleasantries, ordered a sweet-bun. He thanked the woman as he left, eating the sweet-bun while trying not to make a complete mess. Thrand's spirits were raised considerably, and when he met Hal in the common area of the inn, with two steaming flagons of cider, he could not help but grin.