Thirty Four
Gladius and Fletcher, Brookhaven Village
In the glimmering twilight, the closest thing to daylight that existed under the opaque forest canopy in Darkwoods, the heroes and their new allies rode their horses with all haste to Brookhaven village.
The Magister of Brookhaven's daughter Gealladh led the party. Tiny faeries and glimmering moths danced in the ethereal air stirring up the fine fragrances of sandalwood and cedar. Gladius was enchanted by her beauty.
Gladius lit up when Geally turned to address him.
"Our village had been unspoiled for centuries until recently." Geally explained with a solemn heart.
The immense ancient trees surrounding the village were enchanting, silvery vines weaved through the flora. Luminescent silvery mushrooms acted as natural trail markers.
The glistening leaves crunched under the hooves of the horses. Even the queasy knight, Fletcher couldn't help but appreciate the beautiful sights.
A babbling stream tucked under a carved sandalwood bridge was being sipped by a pristine white stallion with a glinting white horn on its head and ornate silver saddle and stirrups.
The unicorn paid no heed to the Ileuadi that passed by but was visibly wary around only Fletcher.
Gladius was entranced by all the magnificent scenery around him.
Meanwhile Fletcher had dismounted to heave in a nearby bush. The elderly Moonsworn's drink hadn't agreed with him.
"Is your friend, okay?" Geally inquired when she noticed Fletcher vomiting, trying to keep it out of his unkempt beard.
Gladius sighed, unfortunately this had become his troubled friend's typical behavior over the years.
Fletcher held up a hand. "I'm good, just peachy," he reassured them.
As they continued into the village they watched as the hooves clattered on cobble streets as they passed ornately-carved wooden buildings far more elegant than anything made by humans.
The trees were continuing to grow around the buildings gradually raising their elevation over the passing years. Quaint herb gardens and mushroom-lit paths dotted their doorsteps.
Seeing the stranger's approach, many of the shy maidens and smaller children fled inside, unaware the visitors were not with The West Venture Company.
But a young Dark Elf curiously approached them, utterly fascinated by the knights. "Sister Geally!" the young Ileuadi beamed. He ran to his sister Gealladh for an enthusiastic embrace.
Gladius was equally fascinated by the child; he knew Elves could live for almost eight hundred years but he had never seen a child before.
"How old are you, little man?" he inquired warmly crouching to eye level of the child.
The onyx-skinned, silver-haired boy squinted at Gladius awkwardly. "I... am just 50 years," he replied in shaky broken Turbulic.
Gladius chuckled. "Older than me then."
The boy was confused by this, having no understanding of the aging process of humans.
The Moonsworn conversed with each other and decided it was time for the heroes to meet Magister Lunaris.
Upon reaching the village square- a cobble brick and mushroom-lit courtyard Gealladh ran over to her father for a warm embrace.
Lunaris had been examining the remains of the slain Wicker Beasts he had destroyed the night prior.
Some resembled wolves made of thin woven briar thorns, transparent in places but an unmistakable frame of a wolf.
Another larger beast resembled a thin man in equally tangled vines and thorns.
The fallen foes' bodies still had a slight black magical hue. This was not the tell-tale purple fiery magic of The Demonic Legion; this was magic from another older source.
Magister Lunaris approached them, he was taller than Gladius, although slimmer with the normal Moonsworn complexion, silver hair and signs of old age creeping in. His regal red robes and enchanted sandalwood sceptre made him a magnificent sight to behold.
He uttered a few words to a nearby Moonsworn in Bywydi, the language of his people as Gladius bowed respectfully, nudging Fletcher to do likewise.
"I greet you dieithryn, welcome knights. You have arrived in good time, we are in need of aid," Lunaris implored with his own courteous gestures.
He turned away; his face grim as a nearby pair of Moonsworn sentries were being covered in a burial shroud at the foot of a polished granite statue of the deity Ileuad. The widows clung to their dead husbands, weeping softly.
Gladius approached the bodies and knelt before them. With his prayer beads in hand, he whispered The Tabernacle's prayer of parting.
The widows didn't understand the words but kindly accepted Gladius' prayer.
"What are these things?" Fletcher poked at the dead pile of Wicker Beasts with a stick.
"They are conjurations of dark Drwgi sorcery from our exiled enemies," Gealladh explained.
Gladius had heard of the Drwgi before, Dark Elf maleficae who worshiped the evil counterpart goddess to Ileuad.
They had been scattered and exiled to the Northern Townships centuries ago after being defeated when they committed regicide against the Moonsworn King,
The humans that had later moved into The Northern Townships had wiped them out with great prejudice.
"Haven't those fiends been gone for centuries?" Gladius inquired.
"Yes, but their sorcery endures like a poison, feeding on death and despair," Lunaris explained.
"Death like the logging operations from the Ventures," Fletcher summarized.
Though he had the look of an impoverished drunk, Lunaris was impressed by Fletcher's insight.
"We have traced the source of the attacks to an old Drwgi burial ground. That foul place has been spitting out these monsters," Gealladh explained.
It was only as Gladius peered over the stone barricade on the western edge of the village did, he see the extend of the damage.
A battlefield of dead Moonsworn and Wicker Beasts scattered across a clear-cut logging clearing.
The West Venture Company had abandoned this site but the evil they had stirred up was undeniable.
Moonsworn mourned over the broken bodies of their kin, while others were given hasty triage from a dwindling number of healers. Others were retrieving arrows and burning the bodies of the Wicker Beasts to ensure they didn't reanimate.
"My people need you, will you help, heroes?" Geally pleaded with Gladius, her tears renewed at the reminder of her fallen kin. She had already lost her mother and older brother in this war.
Gladius pledged his sword to their cause without hesitation.
"Here we go again," Fletcher groaned.