Note: For those not keeping track, I had restarted this story, separating chapters, adding in some new stuff, taking away old stuff, and cleaning up the mess that this story once was. It's better now, but again, if you have read this story before, this chapter isn't really new, its an updated version of a previous one, that I had since deleted. To those who haven't read this story yet, please enjoy and any feedback (Good or bad) is most certainly appreciated.

Chapter 5: From Bad to Worse

"I's found 'im in the brush, I's did," the rogue Roon explained, exposing his crooked yellow grin proudly, "Listenin' in on ye all, from the looks of 'im."

"Was he now?" Larim inquired as he examined his captive, before glancing back to his scout, "An' what about the rest of his crew? Friends or companions or somethin'?"

"Nothin'. There be no sign of there being any more out there, an' I's been watchin' the camp likes a hawk. The only way I can figure it is he be the only one 'ere."

"Travelin' alone is he?" Larim squatted down in front of Sophonus, waving a finger back and forth, "Now that be an unwise move, says I. One never knows what…misfortunes might befall someone who hasn't the sense ta travel in a group. Ain't that right boys?" The throng of criminal wrongdoers around him chuckled at that. "Well, at least he be armed," he noted reaching out, swiftly drawing Sophonus's long sword, giving it a look over before tossing it to one of his men. "Or rather 'e was…" Another flurry of snickers followed that. "So…I suppose that just be leavin' ta question as ta who 'e is then?"

"The law maybe?" one suggested.

"A human workin' fer them blasted orcs?" another guessed.

"'Haps 'e be a lost guard fer another caravan?" conjectured a third.

"'e may be it at that," Larim nodded, "But at the moment, it don't really matter, I suppose. 'e be tresspassin' on our turf, that be as true as the devil…An' eavesdroppin' on us ta boot? He's rackin' up quite a list of charges by my reckonin'. But maybe we's should be askin' 'im. Oi! You! Come on; get up, we's all known that ol' Roon didn't hit ye that hard!"

"Well actually I's did," Roon confessed, "Ye's always telling me that I need ta be a bit more harsh with captives Larim."

"Yah, harsh ye need ta be but that don't mean I's want ya ta be knockin' a captive's brains out befere I can squeeze some information from 'em. It be kinda hard ta do that when they be sprawled out in a heap. Oi get up, we knows ye ain't dead, there be no point in playin' possum! Come on me little daisy," he called in a singsong voice, standing once more, "granny's got some fresh eggs on the kettle fer ye!"

"Bloody hell," Sophonus grunted out from his prone position, his normal voice overtaken by a rough-hewn accent, not unlike the bandits he was surrounded by, "That be some welcomin' ye got there."

Sophonus had been light-headed for a few moments after the blow he had received, but he recovered quickly enough to realize he was now in some particularly dicey water. Instead of rising up and retaking his feet the moment his sense had returned to normal, he stayed quiet, even as Larim was poking him. He was trying to buy as much time as he could to devise a way out of his current predicament, for a sticky one it was. Bad as it was though, he knew better than to panic. Zarrin had told him years ago that in a dire situation, the worst thing that one could do was panic; their composure falls to pieces and a tragic and grisly end would more often than not follow.

So he began to fashion a strategy as calmly as he could, even though his heart was hammering against his ribs.

This is bad…he told himself with as much coolness as he could, but I'm not dead yet. Just…weight my options. Unfortunately, his current options were quite limited. He was surrounded by a small horde of cutthroats and he was unarmed save his knife. Escape was impossible, they stood all around him and fighting would have been suicide. Finally, as he came to the conclusion that any violent paths of solution would most likely result in his death, he instead opted to play a good old fashion game of masquerade.

His disgruntled groan had silenced the men above him, as they saw their prey was coming around.

"Well look'it that," Larim noted, "he's got a tongue after all." He bent down once more, just as Sophonus was picking himself up, "Well then, do ye have somethin' ta say to us me lad?"

"Aye, I do," Sophonus answered, putting on his best toothy drunk's smile, "Yer scout, 'e certainly be an' effective watchdog. Just a whiff of that god-awful stink of his…Phew, the smell hit me harder than 'e did." Just as he had hoped, this derogatory comment was greeted by a gust of laughter from all the brigands, save Roon of course, who looked quite put out.

"I'll have ye know, ye sorry pile of goblin puke, that I's have a right fine smell about's me."

"Have ye taken a sniff of yerself lately, ye duffer?" Nalen asked him grinning, "None of us have said nothin' but ye have been smellin' quite rank these days. As bad as an orc I'd wager."

"Aye," concurred Frugon, "ol' Roon stinks like some bad cabbage growin' from a pile of worm guts!" The men laughed up a storm at their rogue's expense, though Larim, while he laughed, he was still eyeing Sophonus quite closely.

"A keen nose ye gots I says…but that wasn't precisely the sort o' answer I's be lookin' fer. Mayhaps ye should try again…"

"Certainly," Sophonus went on, dipping his head, "Me name be Warrik, I ain't been round these parts befere. I lived in some crummy little town northwest o' ere, outside the woods. I left there 'bout a week ago an' came in 'ere lookin' fer a crew ta join. I mean, after all, the Newcraven be all but legendary fer attractin' the worst sort of lot there is…an' sure nuff, I's found ye all." There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd, they obviously taking pleasure in being called the most feared group of outlaws in the whole Newcraven.

'Ye just decided to leave yer home, did you?" one of the bandit's asked, his tone and expression not veiling the fact that he was suspicious, "Right out o' the blue was it?" Sophonus, though rather inexperienced in the ways of adventure and the world, was not fool enough to think that a simple lie on his part was going to convince an assembly of murderous bandits to allow him into their confidence. As they had laughed at his strategically placed joke, he had hastily constructed a back-story that might entice them not to kill him. He prayed that it was solid enough.

"Hah, things rarely be so easy mate. See I was runnin' a bit o' business back home. Nothin' major, but it had ta do with importin' certain…"merchendice" let's say, the sort that ye don't want the guards pokin' round. It was off the books an' it wasn't hurtin' nobody, an' I was makin' a nice little profit. Course eventually, one of me workers ratted me out, an' I had ta take off. I'll be damned if I be spendin' the rest of me life in a dingy jail cell. So, seein' as I'm already got me hands dirty, I's got no qualms 'bout doin' a bit worse ta make a livin' enough ta scrap by. Though I'd say from the looks of things round 'ere," Sophonus nodded his head towards the mountainous heaps of loot, "That ye gents be doin' quite well fer yerselves, an' that sounds just keen ta me."

The thieves glanced about to one another, some commenting in whispers, no doubt voicing their concerns for letting this interloper join them. In the midst of this, Larim, who Sophonus had more or less judged to be their leader, was no longer looking at him and finally silenced them all.

"Ye been killin' orcs boy…?" his eyes narrowed. Sophonus followed his gaze, noticing that the bandit leader was eyeing his lost sword that one of his cronies held. His sword still had dark black splotches of dried orc blood dotted down near the hilt. And right then, Sophonus saw a well-situated opportunity to perhaps ask questions about the orc camp he had been scouring the forest for. Such information could prove most valuable, provided he could escape his current situation with his skin intact to put it to use.

"Ye noticed that did ye?" he shrugged it off, "That be true it is, a few of the stupid blighters stumbled 'cross me, thinkin' I be rounded up fer some use. Do ye know what they was on about? Slaves or some rubbish?"

"Don't ye be worryin' yer young little head 'bout that," Larim instructed, "They ain't the subject of debate 'ere. That honor belongs ta ye."

"Aye that be true," Sophonus felt a twinge of disappointment but knew better than to try and press the matter. Another opportunity could come along, so he maintained his patience. "So…?" he glanced amongst the masses around him, looking for approval, "Would ye blokes mind terribly if I was ta join ye in the hunt?" Judging from the more or less neutral looks he was getting as the lot of them contemplated the question; Sophonus felt that he was close to escaping from this collision course with danger with his well-being intact.

"I's think…" Larim thoughtfully answered, "That I would mind me son. So the answer be no." At this, several of men traded surprised looks amongst one another, eyebrows raised.

"Why not Larim?" Elmic asked curiously, "'e seems all right ta me…'sides, we's could always use some larger numbers against them orcs. The more we's got the less likely they'll be droppin' in on us."

"Aye, I know the value of numbers lad, an' I'd have no qualms 'bout it normally. Except," the bandit leader looked back down at Sophonus, a wide knowing grin on his face, "that our boy Warrik 'ere…'e ain't no bandit. Nor a thug, a ruffian or any other type of brigand. Actually, I's be willin' ta wager that he be one of them straight arrow blokes, the kind that won't do no wrong to nobody. Ain't that right me lad?"

Sophonus felt his stomach drop, at once wondering if he had made some manner of mistake regarding his act or story that could have tipped Larim off that he wasn't quite what he claimed to be.

"Is you sure?" one of the men asked, looking the young man up and down, "'e's a bit young I'll warrant, but…what make's ye think that?"

"Call it a gut feelin'. I's just got a notion that this boy 'ere be tryin' to hoodwink us but good. Somethin' 'bout 'im don't sit right with me." They all stared down at Sophonus, who began to feel rather exposed, as if their eyes could see right through his deceit. "What do ye say boy?" Larim pressed, "Ye care ta change yer story round o' bit?"

"Well…" Sophonus answered slowly, holding his poise, "I suppose it be true…I's never done anythin' too terrible like ye fellows, an' livin' in town can make a man look soft an' all, but I's assures ye that I've got no qualms 'bout changin' meself up." Larim at once started to shake his head, still wearing that crafty smile.

"That be bullspit boy, an' what's more, we's both know it. Yer face don't have the look of someone who be slippery an' worried 'bout bein' caught with 'is illegal activities. Or the shifty sort o' presence for that matter. Ye just don't seem dark 'nuff ta be as nasty as ye claim ye are… Come on now, me hearty, time ta be comin' clean."

Despite his best efforts of deception, Sophonus's lies were not being believed, the bandit leader leaving him in a rather hazardous situation. Trying to insist any further might have made the whole crew around him angry, so there seemed little point in trying to maintain his ruse any longer.

"Alright," he dropped his charade, his accent no more, "If you must know, you're right; I'm not a cutthroat or a criminal of any kind. I'm just a traveler who's passing through these woods." At the loss of the boy's slurring accent, the majority of the men clustered around him gave a jump.

"Well I'll be jiggered," one thug scratched his jaw, "ye be right Larim, 'e be a faker sure 'nuff." Their leader tossed them a triumphant grin.

"Course I am, that be why I'm in charge 'ere. Now," Larim gave the young man before him a sickly smile, "Don't it feel better ta be all honest like? An' since yer bein' truthful with us fine blokes, 'haps ye can tell us what ye were doin' sneakin' round our camp?" He was already in trouble, Sophonus knew, so there was little point in hiding anything from here on out, as deep in his dilemma as he was there wasn't much he could do to make things worse.

"If you must know," he answered them with a straight expression, "I was wandering around these woods and saw the smoke from your fire, so I came to investigate. And seeing that you all were bandits, I was trying to devise the best way to rout you and your thugs operations." The whole band of ruffians began to scratch their heads, trading puzzled looks, no doubt unable to make sense of what he said. Larim however seemed to follow.

"Rout me an' me thugs ye says…why by my reckonin' that would make ye a hero or somethin'," the bandit ringleader surmised, "Well, if that don't beat the bush twice over. Ye hear that boys?" he hooted, rising up to address his men, "We's got a bloody hero in our midst, a champion of right an' justice an' all that other swill. We should be feelin' quite honored I'd say." They all began to yuck it up, slapping their legs and leaning on one another, laughing.

"I knew 'e be trouble Larim," Roon cackled, "As soons as I sees 'im, I knew 'e was up ta no good!"

"If 'e be so righteous an' all that," one thug asked him, "Then why was ye workin' ta join with us? Ain't that 'gainst yer…code or somethin'?"

"Yes," Sophonus responded plainly, "I'm more the sort who tries to get rid of bandits, not join them. That was just a ploy; I was simply looking to avoid trouble."

"Ah," Larim flashed him a knowing and unsettling smile, "Then that means that ye do know that yer in more than just a mite o' danger aye? Ye had a suspicion that we "common brutes and criminals" don't take too kindly ta ye hero types, babblin'' 'bout yer justice an' peace. An' ye figured if ye be caught that we wouldn't act like moral upstandin' citizens o' society, wishin' ye well an' sendin' ye on yer merry way?" At these words, Sophonus felt his hopes sinking.

'Something like that yes. So I assume then that there isn't much hope of you letting me go unhindered?"

"Aye, ye catch on quick ye do. We're not the kindest lot round these parts, an' lettin' anyone go, 'specially a heroic lad like yerself, well that be out o' the question."

Sophonus had more or less expected this; they'd have to be crazy to just let him walk away, though he was still hoping for it nonetheless. And since his subterfuge had failed as well, he was running out of ideas that could save his life. He did, however, have something else he wanted to try. His last idea actually.

"I see. If that's the case, then I demand that you divulge any information you have on the orcs that take slaves in these woods." The crowd passed a glance around before once more the whole lot of them began to howl with laughter, doubling over and belting out their gusting chuckles.

"Oi, would ye look at the pair of grapes on this boy?" Thern snickered, "Makin' demands of us an' all that! Quite forward 'e is."

"Aye that 'e certainly is" Larim concurred heartily with good humor, before looking back to his captive, "An' what interest be they ta ye? Lookin' ta go volunteer yer services?"

"As you noticed," Sophonus clarified, "I've killed orcs recently. They were a patrol out scouting and with them the information that they were based somewhere in these woods and that they were stealing people to be sold into slavery. Being a hero as you called me, I was looking for their base so that I might shut them down. And since I overhead you all voicing your dislike for them, as they are attacking you constantly, perhaps we can make a trade."

"What ye be sayin' boy?" one tough demanded with a leery eye.

"I'm unarmed and surrounded," Sophonus answered him, looking back around at the circle of eyes, "and I don't feel real confident with getting out alive. So I may as well compromise. If you men return my sword and allow me to leave with whatever information you know about those orcs, then I'll see to it that they're forever out of commission."

"Take 'em on?" Thern asked with haughty skepticism, "You? Do ye even know what yer facin' Mr. Hero?"

"I have an idea yes."

"That be a load of dung," Roon guffawed whilst picking his nose, "ye ain't got even a bleedin' clue. Those slimy bastards be brutal an' nasty, far more than a puny little bugger like ye can handle, that be as true as torkwood."

"And you care…why?" Sophonus countered, "If they are so terrible and attacking their compound is suicide, then I'm sure it won't really bother you boys all that much if I do end up dead."

"Aye…" Nalen agreed, rubbing his stubble-covered chin, "that be a point, sure 'nuff. Either way, we's stands ta gain. I's says we do it. What says ye boss? Sounds like a mighty good deal." Larim was quiet, staring down at Sophonus intently. Finally…

"I says that it be indeed a temptin' offer lad…but I's think it'd be safer ta not let ye leave 'ere. We's do hate them blasted orcs; every once in a while they's get real uppity with us, thinkin' ta capture me men an' I. We fight 'em off but always loses some men. Havin' them gone would make our job easier, but I's ain't so stupid as ta think that a bleedin' respectable an' righteous lad such as yerself would just go off an' leave us to our whims. The moment we let ye go, I'd wager that ye'd start schemin' on how ta bring us ta justice or some such rubbish, mayhaps snitchin' us out ta some border guards."

And just like that, Sophonus's last idea was shattered to pieces, leaving him right back on square one. He contemplated trying to reassure the group that he had no intention of betraying them, but he had a hunch that it would fall upon deaf ears. After all, if these men had had enough integrity to trust a man's word, it was doubtful they would have resorted to highway robbery, so he wouldn't waste his breath.

"I see there is little fooling you Larim," he relented once more, "And here I thought all bandits were brainless oafs...While it is my goal to eliminate those orcs, wherever they may be, I wouldn't…no, really I couldn't walk away and let men like you to continue to ply your vile practice upon innocent travelers." At this, Larim's previously sly humorous countenance faded; replaced by a dark stormy expression as his grin changed to a glower. He angrily spat at the ground, giving Sophonus an evil eye.

"Ye think yer so righteous don't ye? That yer tha bleedin' avatar fer good an' decency aye? An' that we just be the scum o' the earth? Well, maybe we is. We's ain't got no illusions boy, we's know what we do an' we ain't sorry for it. We be murderin' thieves an' we's don't care a spit 'bout heroics an' integrity, an' ye can stick ye honor down ye throat an' gag on it. We's only care 'bout makin' some gold an' survivin'. The world ain't a kind place to us normal folks, we's got ta make do without all them fancy things that makes life comfortable fer spoiled little adventurers like ya."

"Normal folk don't go around robbing and killing innocent people," Sophonus told him levelly, a small flicker of self-righteousness ignited within him and he continued hotly, "You're just pathetic desperate men that are too wretched and bitter to find a place in this world so you've resorted to becoming petty criminals that steal and kill for the sick pleasure of it. Trying to pass on the explanation that your lives have been difficult is only a miserable excuse for your impatience and weakness towards wealth and it doesn't justify all the lives you've destroyed and all the misery you've caused."

Sophonus was well aware that what he had just said was probably going to make Larim and his cronies irate and give them the urge to act violently. Yet he couldn't really stop himself from saying it; the basic principles, what he lived for, what had been within him from his days of imagining glory and were further emphasized by his teacher for years were not something to be dismissed whenever danger strikes. Regardless, he still silently cursed himself for simply blurting it out.

And as he knew it would, Larim's already displeased expression only grew angrier.

"That's quite the tongue ye got on ye boy," the thug glared darkly down at him, "An' I's thinks I've had 'nuff talkin' for one evenin' so it seems that the time has come fer us ta part ways in tha permanent fashion. I suppose then that just leaves what's ta be done with ye then. What say ye boys?" Larim called to his men, "What shoulds be done ta the hero?" The whole crowd began to belt out their own brutal suggestions in a chorus of grating callous voices.

"Let's chop 'im ta pieces," one hooted.

"Let's string 'im up, so 'is corpse can decorate our camp!" shouted another.

"Nay, let's tie some rocks ta his feet an' throw 'im in the creek!" suggested a third.

"Nah, I's got it!" the unsightly Frugon trumpeted, showing off his vile teeth in all their revolting glory, "Let's toss 'is skinny carcass inta the fire an' watch 'im burn ta ashes!"

"Aye Frugon, now that be an original idea if ever I's heard one," Larim agreed, "Inta the fire? We's ain't done that befere." He then glanced down at Sophonus. "We's may be yer typical bloody-thirsty bandits, but even we's likes ta stretch our creative muscles every now an' again. Okay," he pointed to two of the ruffians, "Ye boys escort our righteous guest ta 'is final good deed. 'e's gonna be a real hero in usin' 'is bones ta keep us warm tonight!" They cawed some more as the two seized their captive's arms tightly, waiting from him to try and struggle free. He didn't, he merely hung there limp. The two exchanged glances.

"Hurry it up now," Larim instructed, "we's ain't got all night! An' me bum be needin' a bit o' warming." The men shrugged and began hauling the boy to his feet and began to drag him towards the roaring blaze.

Sophonus watched the dancing flames, feeling the heat as he was drawn closer. He was simply at a loss as to what to do, for even as sharp as he was, he couldn't think of any other means of escape from this dire situation, save for violence, which unfortunately had a very low survival rate attached to it. He did know however that he had no intentions of dying in such a sadistic and blood-chillingly way. And only mere seconds before he was to be callously thrown into the inferno before him, only two choices remained. One was to admit defeat and to suffer a horrid end of being incinerated for the bandit's amusement. Or fight and try to escape. Not even worth deliberating.

Alright, he gathered himself, no choice.

And in a moment he was moving

Sophonus's limp body suddenly stiffened and his right leg shot out and swung towards the brute on his right, delivering a stern kick squarely to the back of his knee. The bandit was expecting retaliation, though he was waiting for Sophonus to try and yank his arm free, not to strike him with a sudden kick. The blow landed soundly and the thug started to stumble, his grip lost on Sophonus's right arm as he was flailing to maintain his balance, fruitless as he went toppling backwards into a heap.

Wasting not a moment, Sophonus brought his now free right fist around, delivering a swift yet solid punch to his other subjugator's face, catching him in a moment of stunned perplexment, the man loosing a curse as blood sprayed from his now askew nose and he released his hold as well. The moment his hands came away from the boy's left arm, Sophonus grabbed for the sword at the man's belt, drawing it out with a crisp cold ring, while also dismissing the stunned brute with a knee into his stomach, sending him down to join his comrade.

This was all done as swiftly as a bolt of lightning illuminates the sky and then vanishes; the rest of the thieves scarcely seeing what happened. One moment their men were dragging the self-righteous young hero towards the fire, the next they were sprawled across the ground and the kid was armed and scanning their ranks with calculating eyes.

Though taken aback, the pack of killers wasted no time in drawing their own steel with dark expressions, closing in and surrounding the young man whose back was towards the great fire. Their boss though, he was wearing a sickening smile, twirling his own blade.

"Oi ye got a lot o' spunk fer such a little runt. What be yer plan now, genius? Ye gonna fight all of us are ye?" Sophonus gave a small smile in return, knowing full well that he was probably not going to walk away from this. Resigned to whatever came, he lifted the sword and swallowed.

"If need be."

"Should've just jumped inta the fire…" Larim was shaking his head, "it would have been easier fer ye, sure enough. Less painful anyways, cause I's thinks we's now in the mood for a bit 'o dismemberment this evenin'." He glanced among his crew, before leveling his sword at the young man. "Lads…rip 'im apart."

But what responded to Larim's cruel demand was not a collective cluster of grunts and sinister laughter, but a chorus of chillingly piercing howls that sounded from all over the place. And moments later, the chaos descended.

Out from the woods surrounding the camp came a crash of snapping branches and quaking leaves as the woods seemed to explode outward, and emerging from all points of the compass came a horde of crazed roaring monstrosities.

They looked to be some sort of savage wolf/dog, loping in on all fours. However, their extraordinarily massive size betrayed the fact that they were neither. Their heads were up to most of the men's waists, their whole hunched bodies were immense and solid; the way they walked spoke more of a primate yet their long snouts and pointed ears were clearly that of some kind of canine breed. Of what sort, that was unclear.

In seconds, no less than ten of the things had swarmed into the bandit's hideout, snarling wildly and gnashing their crooked yet nonetheless jagged teeth at the cluster of men. The ruffians had no clue as to what was going on, most turning only to be knocked down by a pouncing creature and to have their faces mauled or their throats slashed by the gaping jaws of the enraged pack.

Others reacted a bit better, turning to face the creatures with terror-filled eyes and half-hearted attacks. Larim for instance made a wild panicked swing at his approaching assailant, though his fright made his aim less than true as it merely glanced off some sort of protruding bone, like tusks, from the beast's neck.

And that single attack was all Larim managed as the thing lunged, swiping one of its hind legs, raking its claws across his chest, slicing open his tunic, his shirt, and his flesh. Even as he began to scream in pain, the wolf-like creature stretched its neck out, clamped its jaws around his right leg and bite down, the brittle snap of bone was accompanied by the meaty rip of skin. Larim's scream turned into a high wailing shriek as he fell back, arms flailing madly. No sooner had he hit the earth, a second one leapt atop him, its wide mouth closing around his entire head. With a sound too horrible to describe, the bandit leader's head imploded and that was the end of Larim.

And there in the firelight, crouched amidst the ensuing carnage, staring out with wide eyes was Sophonus, having a few precious moments to gape as the invading monstrosities proceeded to massacre and devour the roving band of thugs, for it was his good fortune that they didn't seem to notice him, they seemed far too busy tenderizing their feast. And in that time, he was able to examine the new arrivals with scrutiny.

The lot of them were covered with matted grubby russet hair, no doubt caked with mud, feces, blood, and other foul substances. Their legs, both front and back, were very bizarre. Their back legs were bent, coiled up under their bodies and rife with bunches of corded muscle, tapering down into wide heavy paws. The way they carried themselves spoke of having incredible running and springing power. Strange as they were, the hind legs were even weirder, having an almost humanoid look to them. True they were still covered in hair yet instead of having paws; they had fingers, each of which tapered off into claws. As if this wasn't unique enough but their front legs were disproportional to their back, far longer and as such had their hands dragging the ground, like an ape.

Their heads and connectively their faces could only be spoken of as frightful. Colossal wolf heads with broad snouts and sharp pointed ears were perhaps the most normal thing about them. Their mouths were enormous, their lower jaws hanging down to expose their vast maws, decorated with vile mold color teeth. Jutting from out of their necks were curves of bone, comparable to ram horns, protruding forward like a misplaced set of tusks, mayhaps serving as some sort of neck guard. Their eyes were a bestial yellow; watery and flailing madly, perhaps a sign of their bloodlust; each one almost bulging with scarlet veins. Like wolves and dogs they too had a long hair covered tail, though it was easily four spans in length, like a cat's, sweeping through their air with fervent excitement.

Bizarre to behold though they may have been, they had no trouble to speak of laying waste to the twenty some odd bandits in mere moments. Sophonus was very thankful indeed to have eluded their notice as he had but he knew that he needed to slip away immediately before one decided to become aware of his non-mutilated presence.

And naturally, right then, one of the things came loping by, holding some poor sod's leg in its mouth, munching vigorously, when one of those bloodshot eyes rolled around, fastening upon the lone surviving adventurer. Its reaction was instant; it dropped its prize before bearing its fangs with a snarl and making a wild jump towards him. Their hefty size hid well the fact that these beasts were deadly quick. Sophonus was fortuitous indeed to have been spared in the first few seconds of the attack; otherwise he might have been paralyzed with fright as so many of the bandits had been. But the shock had passed and he was able to react in time to save his hide.

He crouched and rolled across the dirt just a hair ahead of the straining pair of pointy yellow teeth, sweeping up a fallen sword as he regained his feet. No sooner had he risen up though, he turned only to stare square into another cavernous maw, being struck by the sheer stink of carrion, blood, and the gods knew what else. Another had caught sight of his nimble roll and was leaping upon him, as it seemed that none of them were wasting any time at all trying to end his existence. Before he was shredded by giant claws and fangs, his sword flipped and with a blinding thrust, his blade pierced the beast's upper chest, hopefully striking home at the creature's heart. Regardless if his aim was true or not, the fiendish thing loosed a strident wail as it went sailing past him and crashing into the dirt, kicking its legs madly, slobbering foam and blood.

The one blow was enough to drop the frightful monster for good, which was fortunate, but the howl it uttered as it writhed in the grips of death signaled each and every one of its cohorts to its fate, tearing their furiously blazing eyes from their meal and locked onto Sophonus and his blood-soaked blade, which was quite unfortunate. Sophonus could only scan them with apprehension, knowing that besides they all seemed in the grips of a blood-seeking madness, striking down one of their own wasn't going to sit well with them. True enough, the whole bunch of them, now numbering thirteen began to growl as one, their twenty-six luminous bulging eyes fastened upon him unflinchingly.

And then he fled. Wasting no words, he whirled and ran, all but diving behind a nearby tree, crashing through a number of tall shrubs and ran full tilt into the shadows of the woods. He had thought his trouble with bandits was terrifying…but this…he would have gladly taken the cutthroats plus tenfold than to deal with those…things. Deep down, he felt like an enormous coward from running from a battle, but in truth, there was little dishonor in taking flight. Better to escape and live to fight another day than to stay, fight, die, and get eaten. For against such odds, a fight would likely have been suicide and that was regardless if he was facing common monsters like orcs or…whatever sort of abomination he had beheld.

Wolves…his mind racing as swiftly as himself…wild dogs…worgs…werewolves…Sophonus didn't know what such things were and he didn't really care. For it was a simple fact that knowing what he faced was going to do precious little to help him stay alive. At the moment, all that was keeping his wellbeing intact was running for his life and even then, that didn't seem to be working too well. For even as he went tearing through the darkness of the forest, stumbling over stones and wading through bushes, he could hear them; the crashing of their pursuit as well as their growls and harsh rasping breath behind him, growing louder and more terrible. It was no surprise that the things were gaining on him; he was stumbling about in near blackness, propelled forward only by fear and it was luck alone that he hadn't yet tripped over a hidden bolder or ran flat out into a tree.

And just as they were nearing striking distance, Sophonus's luck granted him a literal glimmer of hope. Filtering through the leaves and branches that loomed above him, was a flicker of moonlight in front of him, that shown down to illuminate a single limb of a young tree, low enough for him to reach. In truth, he almost missed it; catching its faint silhouette a sheer moment before he dashed past it. And with his reflexes as honed as a knife due to raw terror, he leapt for it, arms reaching and hands straining out, hoping, praying, pleading to all the deities he had ever known that he didn't miss.

He felt as though he had been floating in midair for centuries before finally feeling his hands wrap around the coarse bark and once again, with naught but pure instinct, with all the strength he could muster, he pulled himself up with a titanic heave. Balancing onto the sturdy branch, he caught sight of another, wreathed in rich jade leaves and he dove for it. Upon landing, he immediately went for another. He didn't even look down, he shimmied up that tree, climbing ever higher, putting as much distance between him and the ground where his pursuers were lurking.

Please don't let them be able to climb trees, he was beseeching to himself, please don't let them be able to climb trees…Finally, after ascending up thirty spans or so, he steeled himself and glanced down. They were climbing the trees. Though climb wasn't quite right; their humanoid front arms were grasping the trunks, their claws tearing into the bark, hoisting themselves up a little at a time. Staring down, he saw the cluster of yellow eyes advancing upon him again. They couldn't move up as fast as he could, but they were coming after him and soon they would be taking snaps at his feet.

Sophonus glanced about the foliage, looking for something, anything, that could extend his lifespan, even if only for a few minutes. What his eyes settled upon was a branch from an adjacent tree, a bit lower than the one he was perched on. It was almost twelve spans away but the thought of missing and falling thirty spans to the ground didn't exactly terrify him more than the fiends crawling up to get him. So he jumped for it, making the distance with ease and slamming into the tree trunk with almost enough force to knock out his breath. He could hear them, snarling their frustration, awkwardly trying to decide whether to keep climbing or to go back down. He was not going to wait for them to choose, already making a dive for another branch.

He kept jumping, from tree to tree, slowly heading back down. He wasn't safe on the ground, true, but he was no safer in the tree and on the ground he might find something that could save his hide.

As he dropped from the last branch and when his feet hit the solid earth, he was off running again, heading back to the bandit camp. Through the holes punched into the wall of vegetation by the horrible dog-creatures, he could see the blazing bonfire that sat in the middle of the clearing ahead. Behind him was the maddening thrashing of brush as the things leapt from their perches, hit the earth with a collection of thuds and started after him again.

Bursting back into the camp, he got a good eyeful of the carnage, twenty-two dead men, mangled and severed limbs, stains of blood over the dirt and their vast piles of loot. The sight of the massacre, seeing the bulging eyes of terror on the few intact faces that yet remained was enough of a boost to force Sophonus onward, running through the slaughter and crashing back into the woods. Once more moving away from the fire, he found himself again stumbling nearly blind, reducing the speed of his flight. However with his brief foray into the flora above, he had gained valuable time in widening the gap between himself and his chasers.

At least that's what he thought, prompting him to steal a look behind.

No…he almost wailed aloud, No, no, no, no, no…They were right behind him, the whole pack having closed the minimal distance he had put between them, now right on him, a scant few dozen spans behind them.

Keep running…his mind was screaming, I'll figure something out…there's got to be something…keep running…I'm not going to give…

Even as he was ordering himself to keep up his fruitless attempt for survival, he turned his eyes back to the front to continue his flight and his running came to an immediate end as he ran full steam into a tree, robbing him of his breath and the use of his legs. Eyes rolling and with the world spiraling madly, he crumpled to the ground in a stunned heap. I seem to have a knack for doing this, he thought with dire humor. As he lay there, his vision darkening, watching his death approaching with copious amounts of howling and slobbering, he tried to tell himself that his few days of wandering had been worthy of an adventurer, that it hadn't been wasted. He didn't really believe himself though.

As he was distracted, trying to fill his last moments with forced thoughts of self-worth, he was barely able to notice the monstrous creatures. They had been charging towards him, eyes focused solely upon their target. But as they drew closer, they seemed to slow down, coming to a skidding halt, others veering off to the left and right, their howls changing pitch and their growls tapering off. What followed was a cacophony of noise, as what sounded like a full-scale riot was taking place all around the spot where he lay. There was howling, snarling, yelping, screaming and even though his head still spun, Sophonus almost could feel the ground quaking, even though he could see nothing but shadows.

And just as he was swallowed by the dark, a sound ripped through his ears, something that blared, something that rattled him down to the bones, something that was…terrible.