The Trackless Forest

Kyrelea stepped out into the clearing.

She was a striking Sorceress, dressed in flowing black robes with a matching red-trimmed fine cloak, a gift from a former lover who was a Master Tailor. Her long red hair shone in the pale sunlight that filtered through the break in the vast expanse of Campacorentin Forest. She was beautiful, and she was very annoyed.

Behind her strode a Highland Armsman in green cloak and blue chainmail named Clavis. He stood tall, brazenly walking into the clearing, hand on his broadsword. He cocked his head, looking this way and that, concentration evident on his scarred face. As usual, he payed very little attention to Kyrelea, who wrinkled her nose in resentment.

Bringing up the rear were two men engaged in conversation- a short chubby Briton Friar, and a small, lithe Saracen Infiltrator. "But I saw the drop, I am sure of it Ghazni!" exclaimed the Friar. "Tropel, I do not doubt that you 'think' you saw something", stated the Infiltrator with a calm voice. The Friar started to sputter, and Kyrelea said "Silence! Do we have to inform all of the Forest that we are here?" Tropel looked pained, and muttered "But I saw the Magic Acorns drop, and then they weren't there a minute later!" No one paid any attention to him as they all stood looking across the clearing.

It had all started on the spur of the moment at Caer Ulfwych. The unlikely band, brought together by chance and held together by hope, had left the path, striking out for a rumored spot with rich treasure...and had been somewhat alarmed when they had come across a shredded cloak and several broken weapons lying in the mould. So they had headed out in the direction they had thought would take them back...

...and they were lost. Tropel complained; Clavis was stoic; Ghazni was silent; and Kyrelea glowered.

They had clashed with a few Goblin Hunters and had slain them. Once they spotted some ghostly Druids, and had ran, losing what little bearings they had left in the dark maze of trees.

"I donnae remember this clearin", stated Clavis in his thick brogue. Setting his shield aside, he sat down in the grass. Kyrelea, clearly displeased with just about everything, sighed loudly. Tropel looked this way and that. "If we could just remember where the sun was when we started..." he said. Kyrelea whirled around to face him. "You dolt! We started out deep in this accursed forest! How would we know where the sun was?" Tropel opened his mouth to reply, saw the expression on her face, and snapped his jaw shut with a click. Suddenly, Ghazni appeared right next to him. Tropel jumped back, gasping, while Clavis chuckled grimly. "Don't do that!" pleaded Tropel. "I am nervous enough already!"
Ghazni bowed his head in assent. "I see nothing in the clearing", he stated.

They had all been at Ulfwych when they had overheard a guard discussing a legendary cache of treasure to be found beneath a grove of ancient trees with giant cobwebs woven thick around them. They had settled into a somewhat uneasy alliance, greed triumphing over personal distaste. Ghazni had acted gallant towards Kyrelea, who made a point to ignore him; this just caused the Saracen to smile slightly and to act in a very exaggerated, sarcastic parody of courtly attention to her- for instance, holding twigs in his pinched forefinger and thumb out of her way as she passed, bowing low. Kyrelea thought that the show was in very poor taste. Tropel had made a clumsy pass at her when the two had been temporarily alone- she had cast a shock spell on him that had taken the wind out of his sails, leaving scorch marks in a certain sensitive place on his anatomy. Tropel had not repeated his mistake. Clavis was single-minded: paying no heed to the Sorceress, even after she met his eyes with a seductive look; he hummed a Highland ditty as he moved through the trees, his broadsword ready in hand. For some reason this had upset Kyrelea the most- how dare he act as if she were some drab Highland scullery-girl to be ignored!

Now, as they all rested in the clearing, their minds were not on Kyrelea (Except for Kyrelea, of course). They thought only of finding their way back to Ulfwych, or, in the case of the Armsman, of a faint hope of finding the treasure and then returning to safety.

~~~

They continued on. Kyrelea was fretting about her red slippers being in poor shape when Ghazni held up is hand. Everybody stopped. The Saracen stood, listening intently, barely breathing in his concentration. "Something is about in the woods with us", he finally whispered, loosening his rapier in its sheath. Clavin gripped the hilt of his broadsword tighter. Tropel looked all around them in fear, knuckles white as both hands gripped his staff. A faint clicking noise could be heard.

Suddenly, three very large and very angry giant Spiders rushed at them on fast-moving, many jointed lags. Their black and yellow carapaces shown in the faint light. One bore down on Ghazni, who, evading its first strike, plunged his rapier into its hide- but his blade glanced from the hardened chitinous surface. The Spider then stuck him down to the ground. Kyrelea yelled a Word of Command, waving her arms as her hands glowed with the Forces of Power. Yet this was an unfortunate day indeed for the gorgeous and vain Sorceress, as her Mezmerization failed against the powerful creatures. Clavis was fighting the two Spiders who had targeted him- he broke off the ends of two legs, but was poisoned and failing fast, cursing with sulphurous oaths. "Tropel you fool!" screamed Kyrelea, hurling an electric blast at the Spider who was now coming for her over the body of Ghazni. Tropel, mouth sagging open as he watched the terrible action, finally cast a heal on the Armsman, but it was too little, too late. Clavis went down under the mandibles of the enraged insects.

The Spider stood before Kyrelea as she fruitlessly cast another bolt that did little damage. She turned to run, catching Tropel's eye. Tropel took one look at her and started to run. She cried out in frustration as the Spider siezed her from behind, placing its sharp sting against the back of her lovely neck. She shuddered and was flung to the grass, lifeless.

It took the Spiders a brief time to find Tropel, exhausted, cowering beneath some bushes. SInce he was a large specimen, they decided to take him back to their giant Web- and, as he was being encased in a sticky mass of woven strands, Tropel layed his eyes upon the pile of glittering gems and coins beneath the web he was being bound to...the soft sting of the preservative poison caressed him, and he faded into a slumber of sorts- until later, when the feeding began.

~~~

A chipmunk skittered across the roots of the forest floor. It dashed around a nasty pile of fresh, foul bones, and happened upon a green cloak, somewhat tattered. The chipmunk rooted through a pocket in the cloak, and emerged with its cheek pouches stuffed full with some faintly glowing acorns. It ran back to its burrow, happy as only a simple-minded creature can be, with its new-found treasure.