The Chronicles of a Scalebound Sage

Things were going well. Traveling through the forest was the specialty of the druids. They only had half a day of travel left before they would finally reach the Salstar domain. They were on schedule to meet with a larger invasion force that would take out several strategic targets including water sources, farmland and a major fort. The strikes all over the Salstar domain would happen simultaneously, crippling the noble family and their people overnight. 

It had been a long three weeks of travel, but everyone was on high alert now that they were so close to their target. Bláinn couldn’t help but be increasingly nervous as they traveled. This was going to be his first military engagement, and it was so far away from home. When he returned to his clan he would be one of the war heroes who’d struck a blow against one of the biggest wendigo Noble Houses. They would have to withdraw from the front lines to secure their territory, all but assuring victory for the druids in the holy Diredian Forest.

A distant explosion got everyone’s attention. Kara was the first to respond to the situation.

“A caravan saw Sköll; they’re merchants with a warrior and wizard escort,” Kara stated. “They have Salstar domain emblems.”

“How far?” Grim asked.

“Half mile, directly ahead of us.” Kara scowled.

“We can’t have them reporting that they saw a crescent panther. We take them out quickly,” Grim stated coldly. “No survivors.”

Everyone responded affirmatively and they took off running with a combination of speed and Blink. Druids had a natural aptitude for moving in the forest. The group wove through the thick brush and tricky terrain as if they were running on a straight paved road. The application of their mana with every step was perfectly timed and balanced. Their green combat robes left them as little more than blurs amongst the foliage.

Another explosion of magic informed them that they were close to the caravan, and they split up to surround them. Bláinn was with Kara and Finn to attack from the rear while Grim, Sindri and Ivar were going to devastate the front line of defenders. Everything happened so quickly that Bláinn barely had time to think at all. 

His group broke through the treeline onto the dirt road where two wagons were stopped. Ten caravan guards seemed to be the entirety of the defense force. They were definitely not prepared for an attack from enemy combatants. They looked more like a deterrent for wild animals and would-be thieves. The wendigo were poorly equipped for anything more than a bear attack. So when druids appeared they all panicked. 

Bláinn raised his war staff, chanting words of power that caused the wood from the carriage wheels to root deeply into the ground, preventing anyone from escaping. Once that was done Kara shot lighting into the closest wagon. Her lightning was odd, green-tinged and unnaturally quiet for the destructive force her mana imitated. It wasn’t true lightning but mana, so oddities were expected.

The defenders split up, five attacking Bláinn’s group and five on Grim’s group. Bláinn didn’t have time to think; he was a soldier so he fell back on his orders, following Kara’s commands to the letter. Gordo followed his intent through their bond and flanked the men while Sköll did the same. Finn’s shimmer glider flew between the men and a bright light flashed, blinding them. That moment of vulnerability was all the familiars needed to kill two of the five, instantly ripping the wendigo apart.

Finn Blinked into the poorly organized men, killing one with his sword. The remaining two tried to flee, only for one to be struck by another of Kara’s lightning bolts. The final man ducked out of the way just in time to save himself. He didn’t last much longer after that, as root spikes shot out of the ground, impaling the man. Bláinn released his magic, which retracted the roots and dropped the corpse back to the ground.

In moments the defenders were all dead, but a scream from the wagon that wasn’t on fire caught everyone’s attention. By the time Bláinn’s group got to the wagon Grim was dragging a woman’s corpse out by her antlers. Bláinn saw other smaller bodies inside. No words needed to be said as he would have done the same.

He looked over to Kara, who was full of nothing but rage at the corpses of the fallen wendigo. She stomped on the head of one of the fallen wendigo defenders. Her mana that had suffused her body allowed her to crush the skull in a single sickening crack. That was one way to ensure there would be no undead or worse skinwalkers. She took a breath to recenter herself before Grim saw her.

“All targets eliminated, Sir,” Kara said with satisfaction.

“Good job, everyone,” Grim said. “Burn the wagons. Anything your familiars don’t eat, reduce to mulch for the forest.” 

“That would be better than they deserve,” Kara said under her breath.

Grim didn’t respond, either not hearing it or not caring enough to disagree. They had to be fast, though; they didn’t know how frequently travelers moved down this road. The horses were slaughtered so they wouldn’t return to wherever they were from. Tree roots as sharp as blades cut up the bodies and broke down the wagons.  

It was at that moment all of the familiars looked up and growled into the forest on the other side of the road. Bláinn could feel Gordo’s fear through the bond, so he raised his war staff as everyone got into formation. The entire squad was alerted by a russling just out of sight.

“Anyone got eyes?” Grim asked.

Negatives came from everyone but Bláinn as he activated his See Life spell. The horror in his eyes immediately put everyone on edge, but no one was prepared for what he was going to say.

“We need to go, it’s a troll clan!” Bláinn yelled. “I think they were attracted by the blood.”

“Wh-what? What are trolls doing here?” Kara asked.

Grim lowered his voice. “How many?” 

“Fuck, eight,” Bláinn said.

“Everyone, back away slowly,” Grim said. “They want the meat and they can have it.” 

Sindri panicked as soon as he heard there were eight trolls, turning tail to run. The trolls must have taken offense, because as soon as the man turned around it was like a dam broke. Screams of outrage from the trolls echoed from all around and they rushed in from the far side. The large apelike creatures barreled towards them at greater speed then looked possible with their large frames.

“Go, now run!” Grim yelled. 

The group turned around, only to see Sindri get grabbed by a massive troll who had apparently snuck up behind them. The mage didn’t even finish his spell before the troll ripped him in half. Gore and viscera spilled to the ground as the struggling man went limp.

Things just went downhill from there. 

Trolls were notoriously hard to kill, resistant to magic and with extremely fast regeneration. Spells either bounced off their hides or caused superficial wounds that closed up shortly after. Lightning shot out, tree roots impaled flesh and swords flashed through the air as the druids fought in complete desperation. Finn was the next to fall, then Ivar and Grim. They managed to kill all but the largest of the trolls; a massive hulking beast in comparison to the rest of their kin. 

Bláinn was bleeding, a swipe from the creature had nearly bisected the man while sending him flying into the forest. He hit a tree where he slid down and slumped over. He could see the flash of lightning as Kara and Sköll fought for their lives. He felt Gordo return to his side in his final moments, as the flashing of magical power stopped and a troll roared victory.

“No, no, no! I won’t accept this!” Bláinn yelled between painful coughs. “Fucking troll? I am not going to die to fucking trolls! Not after all of this. Not after we were so close.”

He could feel his mana swell even as his body grew colder. Anger. Rage. Hatred. It was pushed to the forefront of his dying mind. Mana exploded from him unchecked and leached into the soil, the air, the plants. And the world responded. He felt nature dig into him; magic refused to let him die even as his mind was consumed. All he knew was pain. He forgot himself, who he was, what he was as he wandered the dark forest.

Time was irrelevant; days, weeks, months meaningless as his mind only knew pain. He felt a glimpse of his real self fading in and out. Gordo never left him; he would return to his master with fresh kills that Bláinn couldn’t eat even if he wanted to as a herbivore. Even so the wolf protected and even hunted their enemies. Gordo would drag the corpses of the wendigo to him so he could return them to the forest.

Things were painful and he was no longer himself. That was, until he saw something that forced what remained of his consciousness back to the forefront of his mind. His familiar called out to him, hurt and dying. Bláinn fell to his knees once he found his familiar. Every breath reopened wounds and caused the pain to again threaten to strip his mind. 

He felt it, the cursed magic of the wendigo in the air. There was one here somewhere. He looked around in panic and outrage for someone to tear apart for what they had done. His mind was fading again but he refused let his mind once again be lost to the pain.

His voice was alien to him now as he screamed. “Gordo. Gordo buddy, no-no no! Stay with me! I’ll get you healed, okay? Where are you? You fucking cannibal savage!” His tears were blood. “I can feel your cursed fucking magic! I know you’re there! Get out here coward, savage, look at what you’ve done. Fuck, Gordo, don’t close your eyes.”