Outer Darkness Ch.1

Outer Darkness Ch.1

Outer Darkness
Chapter 1: Escape and Pursuit


The day had been long and tiring. The two human adventures; a middle-aged man and a young woman, had trekked through the woods and through the briar patches, over rocky hills and high grasses for the last several weeks. Both were exhausted and had not come to a town within the last two weeks and tonight would be no different. It was three hours before the sun would begin its decent and both knew they had to find a suitable site to set up camp before the darkness covered them.

The young woman was in the lead, dragging the majority of the equipment and traveling gear. Her pace was becoming sluggish; her head dipped low against the wind and her eyes weary from exhaustion. The man behind her carried a much liter bag of gear and yet he still had a very disgruntled expression across his bearded face as he goaded the woman ahead of him like a pack mule, “Ya best be moving yer ass!”
Jack Jacobo was his name and supposedly he was a ranger who was hired by nobles and kings. Many years ago this statement may have been true, but sadly for the last 12 years it was not. Kyteria Legacy the ‘pack mule’ looked up from the deer trail she was following and noticed they would only have a few more hours left to set camp. As they moved deeper into the woods she noticed a light fog starting to form and the dew clinging to her skin and clothes, they were near water. “Get a move on now! We’re wasting daylight!” Kyteria used the last bit of her energy to move a bit faster and to hopefully find a clearing to set up at. Hopefully this time she wouldn’t have to sleep on top of gnarled roots.
Soon they had found a clearing past the woods and next to the river that was flowing down stream from the way they had come. Kyteria dropped all of her gear and began trying to pop her back, back into place. She knew she didn’t have much time to relax because the fire needed to be started immediately; even before she sat up their tent, because she knew fire was their life. Jack also dropped his gear to the ground and grabbed for his clay jug, his ‘thinking juice’ as he called it. He also grabbed their map out of his bag and unrolled it, but for as much liquor he had in his jug, the map might as well have been blank. As normal, Kyteria had to do all of the work, digging out the fire pit, gathering the wood, starting the fire, setting up their tents, and many of the other tasks required of her. After camp had been set, with no help, and dusk was upon them the young woman looked up to see her Uncle; sitting next to the fire she started, still starring uncertain at the map, half of his jug empty. Glaring at him she placed her hands on her hips and motioned toward the river. “Well, since everything is set up and we’re near a water source I’m going to try and wash at least ONE of the many layers of filth that covers me, considering it’s been two weeks since I’ve had a proper bath!” Jack ignored her outburst still looking at the map, paying to heed that his young niece had headed downstream to bathe. To intent was he at trying to decipher their map, focusing ever so closely on it.

******

A map was laid out across the stone table, its edges frayed and worn with time. An older woman looks up from it, her skin dark as night, and her hair as white and wispy as cobwebs. One might mistake her for a dark elf but for a couple other attributes. A horn curved out from the middle of her forehead and crystals were embedded in her skin around her neck as a permanent necklace. She was a Zarkathion, a dark elf of the Astral Plane. Still there was more to her as her eyes were completely white, no iris, no color, she was completely blind, and she was an Oracle.
Azor’kra ‘looked’ to her guests and a not so pleasant smile graced her old lips. The pendulum she held in her hand over the map was beginning to slow, its destination soon reveled. “Ah, Sha’kla you arrive just in time, as usual.” Sha’kla was a younger Zarkathion female, and a warrior of her family who was ranked first house. She was already in a foul mood today, and to be summoned by this withered wretch did not help. Sha’kla could care less that their family oracle was ranked second in their house, just under her mother who ruled like the goddess she believed herself to be.
“So my dear, how does it feel to be the third best fighter in your family?” Gripping tightly at the hilt of her sword the younger growled, “What is it you want this time!?” “A simple task really; a recovery mission, an artifact that was left long ago by one of your ancestors on the Material Plane has resurfaced, and as you know we NEVER leave evidence behind. It’s so simple I would send you alone, if I did not fear for your failure. So I’ve elected to bring in the highest rank of your house, or should I say lowest? Sygmund will be accompanying you.” Sha’kla gripped even tighter to the hilt, her knuckles turning a lighter shade of blue, “Why is that wretch coming with me?!” “That ‘wretch’ is the best fighter your family has produced . . . even if he is a slave.” Sha’kla gave a panicked glance back to the shadows against the wall, “That THING is not coming with me!” “That ‘thing’ will be going with you” Azor’kra stated calmly her blind eyes looking past the heated warrior.
Spinning away from the oracle the other female glared at the shadows, as piercing blue cat eyes shinned back. “I don’t want to do this especially with you!” A deep timbering voice sounded from the shadows as the male responded, “I am here simply because I was told to be here.” Hesitantly she un-griped her sword, realizing his level of obedience was only matched by his ability to kill. Ignoring the two bickering rivals the oracle continued, “The item is moving in a caravan and will soon reach a farm house, which is actually a warehouse.” “You getting this fuzz-ball?” Sygmunds’ only sign of disdain was the fact that his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Or, do we need to give you a map with a big red circle around the target?” This time his jaw tensed, but other than that he made no move or showed any emotion.
The oracle becoming tired of the arrogant woman proposed a deal, “Well, if you find him so inferior why not let us make a game of it? It may give you a chance to beat the beast you can not defeat.” Sha’kla sighed heavily but agreed, “Yes, let us make a game of it, a race.” The slaves eyes widen, shocked that she would play along with the oracle she so openly despised. Chuckling, the older agreed and began to open the portal to the Material Plane. “You will each have three days and as soon as one of you has the item within their grasp both of you will instantly be sent back here.” “And the item that needs to be recovered?” “It would appear to be simple hand-ax, except your house seal is carved in the head of the ax and ancient runes bound the wrappings around the handle. Each of you will be drawn to the astral energy, so you should be able to track it easily enough.”
With the portal fully open Sygmund stepped out of the shadows. He was a large bi-pedal white tiger, over 6 feet in height and a tail that was as long as he was tall. He was wearing gladiatorial armor, and the face of the matron of the house he was enslaved to was on the front. Sha’kla stood next to the portal and extended her hand toward it in a mocking bow and in extreme arrogance, “Let me be clear, I will be a goddess of war one day, and you will still be nothing more than a dog on a chain. I think the least I can do for such a worthless beast is to give you a head start.” The tiger devil glared hard at the arrogant woman but still he obeyed and went through the portal first running fast as soon as he reached the Material Plane. The oracle looked back toward Sha’kla never seeing, never knowing, that a long sword was being pulled from its sheath and then slicing across her neck. With its power source interrupted the portal quickly closed and the malicious woman looked down at her withering elder grasping at her throat. “For an oracle, for someone who can look into the future you really should have seen this coming.” Azor’kra crawled agonizingly toward her basin of water, that in which she used for visions, only for her blood to pour down into the basin pooling atop the water.

******

Jack pulled back his head, his vomit and bile floating in the river water as it was quickly being carried down stream. Leary eyed and dizzy headed Jack looked back down at the water and at his own disheveled appearance, “What’re YOU starring at ya ugly old man!?” Looking farther downstream he saw the outline of Kyteria bathing in the river. “Ain’t that the finest piece of ass ya’ve been seeing in the month?” Jacks reflection looked back at him and now the two seemed to have been having a perfectly ‘normal’ drunken conversation. “I think that’s your niece.” “That ain’t my niece!” “Yeah it is.” “No it ain’t!” “How is she not your niece?” “My sister told me she was adopted!” Hiccupping Jack laughed stupidly at his reflection, really he should have known that already. “Ya knows what? I’m gonna goes get me some of that!” “You’re going to WHAT!?” “I’m gonna get me some of that!” “You wouldn’t dare!” “I sure would!”
Pushing himself to his feet Jack staggered around for a moment trying to regain his balance in his drunken state. “I gots to make myself look pretty.” Dousing himself with some of his remaining liquor he slicked his matted and oiled hair back with his dirty and cracked hands, “Yeah . . . I’m a sexy man . . .” Staggering he began undoing his belt as he muttered his plan to himself.

In the distance Kyteria could hear an argument ensuing with a voice rising in disbelief and in anger, another countering with undistinguishable words. Not long after she began hearing someone or something approach mumbling and groaning. Deep down she was afraid she had caught the attention of a bog zombie so she began moving toward the deep crevice of rocks where she had placed her cross-bow. Pulling it underwater and to her side her senses were on full alert.
Bursting from the brushwork Jack leapt out screaming in slurry of words, “Sexy man coming!” Startled and on edge the young woman’s crossbow exploded out of the water, a sharp and deadly bolt flying straight and true at its target. Staggering and then falling face first into the water the intruder was stopped dead in his tracks. Kyteria moved closer and noticed what she had shot was a naked and pompous fat man. Her heart began to race and her breath was held and her throat began to close. ‘No . . . no . . . it couldn’t be.’ Her mind raced as she reached out toward the body, easily flipping him over in the water. There below her floating was her Uncle Jack now dead with a bolt logged right between his eyes. “Aw, shit!”

Panicked she began rambling to herself trying to work out a plan, “I’ve shot and killed people before, but damn why this! Ah hell and they’re going to be looking for you as well if you don’t drop off the next shipment!” Slowly she began dragging Jacks body to the embankment where her clothes where. “Ok think, adventurers die all the time! However, in the woods they’re not likely to be killed with a crossbow bolt! Wait, maybe they do! Yeah that’s it, we were ambushed!” Dressing herself quickly and then her naked uncle she began hatching her plan even further. “An ambush and a horrible fight, our camp was completely trashed! The missing moonshine and broken bottle . . . he used it to burn . . . to burn . . . to burn the troll! Everybody burns the troll, only fire or acid will stop their wounds from instantly healing!” Quickly she got to work kicking the camp fire apart and using her tent hammer to make fake foot impressions that looked impacted and heavy. She took three throwing knives and held them in one hand and slashed at the tent the surrounding trees and her dead uncle to make it look like the troll was slashing at everything in his path with his claws.
So far so good her staging was looking very realistic; however, her reason for doing this was still dead by a crossbow bolt. How would she cover up the real way he died? Looking around the camp site she tried to think of what a troll may use “Just replace the wound with something else.” Approaching her uncle she removed the bolt and looked down at the oozing wound, gulping she held a large gnarled tree branch, one a troll might use as a club. “May the goddess Rei forgive me for what I have done here this night.” With all her force she brought down the ‘club’ upon his head, crushing the dead mans skull and with that covering the fact that once the wound would have been caused by a piercing weapon and not a bludgeoning. Looking around she noticed her tracks all over the place, including where she had dragged Jacks dead body from the river to the camp site. Hurriedly she began scratching over the tracks with sticks and leaves, covering up her trail the best she could.
Grabbing for only necessary supplies she fills only her bag and leaves the rest trashed and burning at the scene of the ‘ambush’. Pausing she takes in her surroundings and looks down at the pristine leather armor that is propped up against the tree nearest to their tent. His hat with the magical trackers eye is hanging from the lowest branch. “What if in the fight he wasn’t wearing his armor . . . he was caught off guard, he could have been wounded much more easily.” Stripping out of her armor she tosses it to the edge of the fire and quickly dons his as well as the hat. Looking over the scene one final time she hefted her travelers’ bag onto her shoulders and makes her way toward the woods. “If he was attacked by a troll I would definitely not be here . . .” Her pace began to quicken, “I would be getting away . . . getting away . . .” She was now running, sprinting past the trees, “I’ve got to get away . . . I’ve got to get away!” Her feet pounding against the ground, leaping over fallen branches, running blind through the night all she knew was she had to get away.

******

Bounding and leaping through the woods from forest floor to the tree tops, the being moved fluidly like a predator on the hunt. A wide ravine is crossed in a single bound and continues on without interruption. “I’ve got to get the ax! I’ve got to get the ax!” Racing down a trail Sygmund paused for nothing knowing he is gaining ground on the caravan, whether it was one hour or three days ahead of him he didn’t care. Anything he could do to grind more salt into Sha’klas’ wounded pride and ego he would do it. As a slave he knew he could not physically or verbally lash out, but this would work just as well. His heart pounded in his chest to the point he felt as though it would burst, yet he continued pushing himself. Bounding and leaping he reached the edge of the cliff and looking down with hungry eyes he saw it. A clearing in which the path curved and wound down to a farm house that had guard stations and a caravan being checked in, and deep down within himself he knew victory would be his. Crouching low and leaning closer to the edge of the cliff he looked down at the farm house, focusing intently on it and the glowing embers of the sun that shine that magical way right before dawn and right before sunset empowered him.

As the glowing hues of the oranges and pinks of the sunlight caress the land below it Kyteria crested the hill, forcing her exhausted body to its breaking point. Her weary eyes blurring as she tried focusing on the farm house at the bottom of the hill, soon she would have shelter and perhaps a blanket to throw over some hay to sleep upon. Each step harder to make than the last, staggering and falling she eventually made it to the back porch of the farm house and dropped everything she had. Resting her back up against the wall she glanced lazily at the window next to her head. As her reflection leered back at her she closed her eyes exhaustion beginning to win the battle.
Sygmund’s face looks left then right before pulling back and straightening his posture, “Twenty-three . . . no, twenty-four guards . . . total.” His count now accurate he began making his battle plan. “The two on the out skirts first.” Moving quietly as death he approached his first two targets crouching low and his tail twitching in anticipation. One of the guards looked straight at him, catching a faint hint of blue before Sygmund busted out of the brush line pouncing on top of the first guard and burying his sword deep within the humans’ chest. His dagger being flung from his other hand and sinking into the other guards throat and both dead before they knew what had attacked them. Rushing forward the assassin pulled his sword from the chest of his first kill and grabbed the dagger from his second before the body had even hit the dirt. Barreling headfirst into the encampment the guards were in complete shock, no one had ever made a frontal assault on a place like this, no one would, or so they had thought. Tearing through soldiers one after the other it seemed as though nothing would stop him and in no time he was making his way toward the barn. Wondering if that’s where they had stored the wagon as well as the shipments would he find the ax there. Throwing the doors open he is greeted with an armed archer and as the human shot his arrow it slammed into the devils armor. A low rumble of maniacal laughter that promised death and slaughter was the only sound he made as he encroached forward.
Several moments passed before he exited the barn, his sword and dagger both drenched in blood. What he quested after was not there and now he determinately made his way toward the house and approached the front door.
Kyteria opened her eyes thinking she had heard something and not sure how long she had been out glanced up at the door knob to the back door above her head.
Sygmund threw open the front door and began making his way through, killing any who dared opposed him and delayed him further. Slashing, biting, clawing, maiming everything that blocked his path and there he noticed the back door. A pop, a crack, a sound, something he heard from behind that door. Reaching a bloodied paw toward the door knob he tensed in anticipation, his sword being grasped tighter and readied for the slaughter ahead.
Kyteria wobbly got to her feet, her small delicate hand resting on the door knob, her defenses completely down.
Turning the knob the tiger demon breathed deeply, “This is the most unlucky time for you.”