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Amphitheater

Exit to Lakelands

     Torches shed their dim light over the high walls, illuminating men standing upon the ramparts, girded in steel and thick leather,
     stalwartly watching the dark woods.
 

     "Why haven't they attacked yet?" thought Valiant, "It is night now, What are they waiting for?" The man shivered, and gripped his
     bow more tightly.
 

     A spearman appeared from out of the murk. He stopped before the man and tightly saluted. "My Duke," the spearman began, "all
     is quiet on the western curtain," he trailed off, his gaze resting uneasily on the forest below them.
 

     "That lad is barely fourteen summers young," thought the duke, "too young to know the horrors that will surely follow this wait."
     The spearman left, going back into the darkness. The duke couldn't help but think that this city would go that way; Into darkness.
 

     He heard a tree split way out in the forest; A grandfather oak, shattering. Then he heard another die, and yet another. Mystified,
     the duke strained to see what was happening, but the gods-cursed darkness obscured everything beyond a few hundred yards.
 

     The noise went on for an hour or so, though it was hard to tell time in this moonless night. The duke was getting a little cramped
     from standing still for so long, and so he gestured to another nearby guard, and descended to the city streets, anxious to put the
     night out of his mind for a few brief moments, as far as he dared, at least.
 

     He had barely set his booted foot upon the cobblestone street when he heard the screams. A man plummeted down from the
     battlement above. The same young man he had spoken to. Now he was twisted at impossible angles, with his belly ripped open
     from some sharp, cruel claws.
 

     Valiant looked upon this in shock for but a split second, then drew his mighty sword from its sheath, and with a shout of anger,
     sprinted back up the rampart stairs.
 

     He felt the tremble for but a moment, then he was flying through the air, heat blasting him as huge chunks of granite and mortar
     exploded in a ball of destructive fire. The night was lit up as more of these spheres flew through the sky, sent to wreak their havoc
     upon the beleaguered defenders. The howls of rage from within the forest suddenly seemed much, much nearer
 

     Valiant landed on the thatch roof of a small house within the city. Luckily the inhabitants had all moved away long before, afraid of
     the monsters they were. He still had a grip on his broadsword, and his bow and quiver were undamaged after his fall. He stood up
     on the roof to find a way down, and his attention was caught by another blast; something was bombarding the walls mercilessly,
     and the defenders were milling about in panic. Valiant wasn't sure if he wouldn't do the same. He knew his place was with his men,
     yet he didn't know how he could help them.
 

     Shaking his head at his cowardly thoughts, Valiant leapt down from the low roof, and started jogging up the street towards the
     wall. He immediately noticed a sharp pain in his side. It must be from the fall, he thought. He lifted off a piece from his leather
     breastplate, and saw that an ugly black bruise was beginning to form.
 

     Disgusted, he covered it back up again, and gripped his broadsword tighter. He kept running towards the wall. The streets were
     devoid of people, but the sound of the dying filled his ears.
 

     He was but a hundred yards from the wall, when a great ball of fire lit the sky beyond. It arched high above the wall, then dipped
     down out of site just before it.
 

     The shock of the sphere hitting the wall shook the ground even where Valiant stood in the street. This time not just pieces chipped
     off, but an entire chunk of wall shattered into a million shards. The ramparts around the blast crumbled to the ground, and a
     rubble-choked hole opened up to the night. As soon as the smoke cleared, Valiant could see small red eyes glowing in the night,
     and he heard low growls in the shadows.
 

     Valiant ran off the street, and hid behind a few barrels in front of the abandoned cooper's shop. He watched the demons enter the
     breach.
 

     Bodies were strewn everywhere. Most were killed in the strange bombardment, though some were taken by the demons. The
     things were big. They lumbered in through the hole they had made, and stood there sniffing the smoke. The things smelled terribly
     of sulfur, and looked like things Valiant had only had nightmares about. They were easily twice his height, and bulging with muscles,
     though they had no skin... simply black ichor, and it coated their bodies like the skin they didn't have. They left trails of it as they
     walked along on their two powerful clawed feet, their long tails stuck out straight behind them, balancing their weight while their
     fanged maws opened wide, their forked tongues tasting the air. Four clawed-tipped hands flexed unconsciously as it searched for
     more prey. The body of a slain archer dangled from around its neck.
 

     Valiant simply hid, awed by their sheer size and terrible might. Then he saw the smaller ones come through the breech in the wall...
     like ants they came, many of them. They looked like large dogs, skinless like the giants, but they gracefully bounded on all fours.
     The stench of sulfur grew even stronger as these new ones arrived. Already, the sounds of battle at this side of the city were dying
     down, and the screams of the townsfolk were beginning. The lucky ones had made it to the castle at the heart of the city. The
     stubborn ones had decided to risk all to protect their businesses against looters. They now paid the price of their stubborness with
     their lives.
 

     Valiant knew that the city was lost. There was nothing he could do to help it, other than reach Dragonspire, and warn the
     Emperor... These things must be stopped, or they will envelope the Empire, and destroy her worse than any war or plague could.
     He must make it back.
 

     He waited until the things were past him. Oddly, they didn't smell him, though they were trying very hard. They looked right at him,
     but it seemed those red eyes didn't work very well. But those demon-hounds looked alert... He could see a glimmer of intelligence
     in the way they acted. Theirs was a pack mentality, but they seemed to communicate with some sort of language; he had heard
     them calling to each other in a keening wail, and sometimes in a chittering howl.
 

     Soon, most of the demon-hounds were gone too, with only a couple of stragglers left that had come in too late to enjoy the feast.
     Valiant knew that this was his last chance.
 

     The first one went by without looking twice, so intent was it upon reaching the killing grounds that the demon-giants had created.
     Valiant let it go by. Then the second one was nearly to the barrels, with the same eager look on its face. Valiant held his sword
     low, then as soon as it bounded next to the barrels, he jumped up from his crouch, and swung his blade with all his strength full into
     the slackly open jaw of the hound. Its momentum carried it farther onto the slanted blade, cleaving its lower jaw clean off, and
     driving the edge far into its twisted brain. The sword stuck, and was wrenched out of Valiants hands as the thing fell and struck the
     ground, its body convulsing, and bleeding black blood everywhere. Valiant stood back, wary if the beast was faking or not. He
     drew his dagger, and stood behind the barrel.
 

     But it seemed that the thing could indeed be killed, and that practically taking its head off did the trick. Valiant reached for his
     sword, and picked it up. He looked in shock at the foot-long stump that was left of the blade. Confused, he bent down to find the
     rest, but all he found was some ruptured sac of fluid above the creatures mouth... acid? He didn't know, and didn't have time to
     find out; there was no telling when more beasts would arrive. He remembered that all of these things smelled like sulfur, and he
     remembered that the beasts seemed to find things on smell alone. That gave him an idea.
 

     He bent down over the carcass, and with a grimace he took a long breath of what the beast smelled like. Sure enough, sulfur. It
     was very weak, now that it was dead, but it would serve. All he needed was to reach the forest, he thought. He touched the ooze
     covering its muscles with his dagger. When the blade didn't melt off, he reached over, and smeared some of the smelly ichor onto
     his hand, then over his arms. Soon, his whole body was covered with the disgusting stuff.
 

     Saluting the fallen hound, and thanking it for its gift, Valiant sprinted for the hole in the wall. He made it down the street without
     incident, and entered the brand-new passageway. It was wide, wide enough to accomodate the giant demons at least. That theory
     was proven at that very moment when the outline, then the body of one of the giants appeared out of the hazy night. Valiant froze
     right in the middle of the passageway, seeing no way to escape certain death. He prayed then for the first time. But he was
     interrupted by warm breath on his face. He opened his eyes, to see the red orbs of the giant before him, the beast bending down.
     A pink forked tongue snaked out and tasted the air all around him. It cocked its head, as if it thought it sensed something wrong,
     but couldn't place its source. Then it stood up, and continued walking into the city, walking over Valiant, who stood transfixed as it
     walked above him, watched its tail swing above him. He stood there frozen for a moment, aware of how close he had come to
     meeting the Goddess right then. He shook his head, to get back to his senses, and walked the feeling back into his legs. He was at
     the other side now. He could see the forest, across the plains... He must reach it, but there must be demons out there... But he
     couldn't see any. Where could they be?
 

     He decided then that he didn't care. He was going, demons or not. He made sure his bow and quiver were secure at his back, and
     drew his long dagger, making sure it was covered in demon ichor. He took a deep breath, then broke from the cover of the hole
     and sprinted out into the open plain.
 

     His legs pumped faster and faster, and he could hear his heart beating louder than the fiery blasts had sounded. He knew that the
     demons were in the woods too, but he had a better chance of surviving out here than he had in the city. This went through his mind
     as the trees got closer and closer.
 

     When he heard the howl, it chilled him to the bone. He risked a glance back, and he saw four of the demon hounds bounding out
     of the hole in the wall and onto the plain with great strides, eating up distance faster than they'd eat up people. Valiant turned back
     to the forest, and focused on running. He was without a sword, had no time to use his bow, and had a puny knife against demons
     the likes of which the stories had never mentioned. He had to run.
 

     The beasts howled in fury when he finally reached the edge of the forest, and leapt into the underbrush. Seconds later, the hounds
     dove in after him.
 

The Duke on the Run
     The Long Night - (Chapter Two)
 

     The tall dark trees embraced Valiant into their cold home, welcoming him as a brother. 

     Valiant leapt from the broad open plain into the underbrush, the beasts following close behind. Though it was as dark as pitch, he
     didn't stop running; The creatures wouldn't be stopped by the darkness, and they were far too close. 

     Branches whipped by as he ran, leaving red welts over his blood-stained body. Blistered feet sought purchase on the loamy floor;
     The damp, dead leaves made him slip and fall more than once. Desperately, he scrambled back to hsi feet and raced off faster than
     before. 

     He forged deeper into the silent woods, where the ancient grandfather trees grew so huge as to blot out the starlight. Many of the
     trees here had fallen, so he leapt up onto the logs, hugged his bow to himself, and scrambled down its length. He jumped off the
     end, and landed back on the forest floor, a wide stream flowing before him. 

     A branch snapped behind him. Risking a glance back, he saw a haze of mist obscuring the way he had come, and the foul stench
     of sulphur already reached Valiant's nostrils. 

     Fighting down the impulse to retch, he waded waist-deep into the ice-cold water. Then, securing his bow to his back, he held his
     breath and sank into the water. 

     The shock of the chill running throughout his body nearly caused him to cry out. Only his iron will kept him from losing the
     life-giving air. He crawled along the riverbed, the current tugging him along, loosening his tenuous grip on the slimy rocks. Hands
     raking the loose pebbles, he let the stream carry him downriver, the sluggish current carrying him this way and that. Then he
     slammed into a jutting rock, the impact forcing him up above the water with a gasp of pain.

     Numbly clutching the boulder, he breathed deeply of the forest air. He realized that the sulpheric stench was gone. Valiant smiled a
     humourless smile, and let go of the rock, soundlessly swiming to the far bank. 

     He climbed up onto a stone, making sure he made no footprints in the soft mud around him. Warily he glanced up and down the
     river, checking for more signs of the creatures. Satisfied, he restrung his bow, and rushed back into the forest.

     Low shrubs hindered his passage, entangling his cold feet, tripping him and sending him sprawling more than once. Yet still he ran.
     Through shrubs, through groves, over hills, and into the rocky country. For four days Valiant ran, never stopping.

     Finally, the land began to rise. Naked rocks jutted out of the rotting loam, covered with soft green moss. White trees were
     scattered about Valiants' newfound glade, their lush, leafy crowns reaching for the sun. A small babbling brook sparkled as it
     wound its way through the greenery. All in all, the picture of paradise.

     Valiant knew of many such glades in Enchantica, but most of them were now behind enemy lines. He didn't know of this one, and
     had stumbled upon it purely by chance.

     His weary body and foggy mind yearned for rest. Four days without sleep was more than too much. Valiant stumbled across the
     clearing, and bedded down underneath a flowering bush, against the base of one of the boulders. He fell to sleep quickly, his mind
     forgetting the dangers at hand, remembering happier times, happier places.

     * * *

     The choking stench of sulphur soon banished the dreams, waking the warrior and instantly clearing his head of sleep. He wanted to
     crawl out of the bushes and breathe a breath of fresh air, but his instincts warned him not to.

     Even so, Valiant parted the leaves before him, anxious to see what awaited him in the peaceful glade.

     A bone-shattering chittering sound came from the woods across the glade. It was only then that he realized the birds had stopped
     singing. All was silent save for the chittering.

     A small black beast warily skittered into the clearing. It was hunched over on four legs, and its wiry body oozed some fluid that
     stained the forest floor wherever it trod. Curved fangs protruded from its dog-like mouth, dripping the foul ichor from its lolling
     pink tongue. Long sharp claws tipped the ends of all four of its padded feet, their ends softly clicking on the boulder it had just
     jumped upon.

     The beast looked about, its glowing, otherworldly eyes never resting in one place for long. It breathed deeply of the forest air when
     it saw nothing, and when it exhaled, the sulphurous stench magnified so much that Valiant had to breathe with his cloak over his
     mouth to keep from coughing out.

     "Killl...." The beast hissed, "Smellllls manssszzz..." Its feral eyes locked onto the bush where Valiant hid, and it raised its head to
     the morning sun and howled. The gutteral baying froze Valiants heart, and leeched his hope away.

     The beasts' howl was answered in turn by others, not far away. It lowered its head back down, and its lips slid back to reveal its
     deadly fangs as it growled. Lithely, it jumped down from the rock and landed soundlessly on the grassy ground. It started walking
     slowly toward the bush.

     Uneasily, Valiant looked about; The howls were getting closer, and that twisted hound-creature was getting closer still. He
     opended the leather uiver on his hip, and extracted a long black arrow. It was a little scratched from the long run, but was still
     straight, and the good steel head was unmarred. He also pulled the bowstring from its waxed pouch, and with a mighty effort, bent
     his horn bow back and pulled the string into place.

     "Findsss you nowzz, huuumaaanzz..." Valiant could have sworn the beast was grinning. He placed his arrow on the string, then
     pulled it back to his ear, took aim, and let fly in one smooth motion.

     The arrow flew truly, and the barbed tip sank deeply into its chest, black blood erupting out of the gaping wound. And still the
     beast stalked on. It was now weaving back and forth, eyeing the bush with a new respect.

     The beast snarled, and bent its neck to put its jaws around the bloody shaft. Dark saliva dripped onto the arrow, and the fine
     wood hissed and steamed as the foul liquid burned into it. Melted, the ruined arrow fell to the ground.

     "Manssszz hasss shrrrp teeeethsszzz..." It hissed again, grinning its demonic grin at the bush.

     The beast was almost at the bush now, and the howls were getting closer. Oncw again, chittering erupted from the woods across
     the glade.

     Valiant desperately nocked another arrow to his bow, drew it back and took aim once again. He tried to trail the creature, but it
     was moving too fast, weaving back and forth, sprinting towards Valiant with a howl of anticipation.

     He briefly lost sight of it, yet still kept his bow taut, the steel head never wavering. He kept staring at the glade, but the
     demon-hound was nowhere to be seen.

     A gutteral shriek was all that alerted him when the beast leapt clear of the bushes, legs and claws outstretched, gaping maw open
     wide in for the thrill of the kill. Valiant brought his bow up with a scream of rage and let fly.

     The arrow flew straight up, and drove deep into the base of the creatures skull. It screamed, and it fell on top of Valiant, throwing
     him to the ground.

     He lay there for a moment with the dead weight pinning him, the breath knocked out of his lungs. He opened his eyes, to see the
     bloody face of the beast not a foot above him. The brilliant red light of its eyes faded to a dull glow, and its sulphurous breath came
     in weak gasps.

     "I... Gone..." It breathed, "Many... Many more... Bewarezzz..." Then then the glow in its eyes died, and the beast was still.

     With a grunt of effort, Valiant heaved the corpes off of him. He shakily got to his feet, and realized that his clothes and skin were all
     smeared with the smelly black ichor from the beasts' skin. He retrieved his bow from the bushes where it had fallen, and checked
     the arrows remaining in his quiver. He frowned. The quiver was badly torn, and his fall had broken all but threee of the arrow
     shafts. With a grimace, he fished the useless shards out, and csat them on the ground.

     Chittering once again sounded from the forest, and the sulphurous stench grew even more overpowering. Valiant stood up from the
     twisted carcass, glancing about for cover. The bush had been flattened by the body of the slain beast, and so was no protection.

     He saw movement at the fringes of the woods as he contemplated his next move.