Chayyim

Over the years his hatred of the undead has only increased. Now he is on the hunt for one of the fiercest foes he has ever faced.

Graying flesh sagging from ivory bone. Empty eye sockets staring but not seeing. Decay permeating the air. Lingering auras of magic. Soulless husks of the dead.

These were the things that Chayyim dreamt of in the dark forests of the Elven lands. It had been years since he had been this far away from his home in the Human lands. Tonight as he slept his mind conjured up images of his home burning as the Necromancer assaulted his village while everyone slept, using his dark magic to murder those who sought his expulsion from the Great Forest. Ever since that night Chayyim knew he could never sleep the same again.

The first ray of dawn cut through the trees to where Chayyim lay, huddled in a thin blanket on a rough hemp mat. His eyes flashed open. It was time to hunt. Drawing his two blades he lowered his head and descended upon the depths of the forest.

His eyes scanned the undergrowth for a sign of his prey. He had been tracking a ferocious abomination through the woods for nearly three days. He had yet to sight the creature, but local Elves had warned him about its dangerous claws and ravenous bite. This was a threat worth eliminating.

Chayyim moved with ease through the clusters of Elven trees, tracking the creature as he went. He had grown very adept at tracking the undead during his younger years defending his home. Now he used his skills to help hunt the undead wherever he could. As soon as he had heard of the problem in the Elven woods he volunteered his services to the Queen of the Forests, who was more than glad to accept.

The tracks led through a thick grove, deep into the woods, far from the familiar roads that wove through the forest. Chayyim slowed his pace, cautious as he moved further from safety into danger. As he turned past a short stone ridge that cut out from the landscape he paused. There was something different in the tracks. Instead of just the movements of the beast there were alongside it the movements of another creature.

“Probably an elf,” Chayyim thought. “Probably one of those damned cultists.”

Chayyim followed the tracks around the ridge. They seemed to lead towards a nearby hill, just beyond a tightly knit wall of trees. Chayyim crouched down behind a bush, eyeing the way the tracks led forward. The way was worn, almost as if it were a path. It seemed to have been traveled recently.

Suddenly movement in the woods caught Chayyim’s eye. A figure appeared wearing a deep green cloak and carrying a wooden staff. The hood of the figure’s cloak draped down, covering up its face. Chayyim recognized the familiar garb right away.

“Damned cultists,” Chayyim thought. “I should’ve known they were behind this one too.”

Chayyim held back for a moment, considering the situation. He hadn’t seen immediate evidence of other cultists, but he didn’t want to risk an onslaught from unseen forces with a careless attack. Keeping close to the ridge he snuck forward, keeping the cultist distanced. As he grew close the cultist withdrew, dashing back towards the hill.

Chayyim moved faster, not wanting to lose sight of his quarry. As he passed through the line of trees he found himself facing an open field cut out from the forest. On the edge of the forest was a cave leading into the mountain. Chayyim saw the flash of robes as the figure disappeared into the cave.

“Damn.”

Chayyim sighed. His compulsion to cleanse the forest of the undead drove him forward, but his recent clashes with the cultists pulled him back. The cultists had proved formidable foes, and at times he had even felt like he was the one being tracked, as if they could somehow follow his movements.

Light now flooded in through the trees. The sun was climbing higher into the sky. Noon was fast approaching. The time to act was now. Chayyim readied himself.

“Hit hard, hit fast,” he thought. “Swift strike.”

Chayyim crept around the edge of the field, his eyes fixated on the cave. All around him was silent, as if the animals in the forest feared to disturb the occupants of the cave. No sound or light came from the cave. Even the wind seemed to have stopped.

At the opening to the cave Chayyim paused, pricking up his ears. He could hear nothing. He leaned forward, peeking into the cave. The light vanished inside in a canvas of black. Footsteps could be made out on the thin layer of dirt that lined the floor in the cave. Chayyim followed them in.

The transition into darkness made Chayyim shiver. It was next to impossible for him to see, but for the Elven cultist it was not. He wondered if he was being led into a trap. In fact it almost seemed certain. Still he went on.

The air seemed to grow colder the further into the cave he went. The darkness was thick. Chayyim felt his way along the wall of the cave. His hands ran over the rough rocky patches that stretched deep under the hill.

In the dark a foul stench began to choke Chayyim. He recognized the scent immediately. It was the creature he had been hunting.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” called a voice from the darkness. The voice dripped with cruelty. “My companion is very hungry for your flesh ranger. Hurry and feed him!”

In a second Chayyim was able to decipher his foe’s location from the sound. Letting out a horrific shout he plunged his blades into the darkness, letting both blades swing out in a deadly swipe.

A scream answered his blades. He had made contact. He swung again, this time one blade following the other, hacking down into the target he had managed to find. As cries of agony filled the air he felt a cold presence at his back.

“Kill him!” screamed the cultist. “Kill him now!”

Pain shot through Chayyim’s shoulder as what felt like a row of nails pierced through his armor and into his skin. He swung back behind him but hit nothing except the freezing air that seemed to have formed around him. Warm blood ran down his back. Scuffing could be heard as something lurked in the dark.

“Kill this nasty fiend!” the cultist called to the creature. “He is the one that L spoke of. I am sure of it!”

Chayyim held his blades out, switching to a defensive stance. The creature had managed to catch him off guard before. He wouldn’t let that happen again. In the near darkness of the cave Chayyim shut his eyes and focused on his instincts, letting other senses be his guide.

“Just kill him already!”

The creature lunged at Chayyim, its arm shooting past his face and crashing into the rock wall behind him. Chayyim brought his sword out and buried it in the creature’s arm, dodging under a second blow as he turned. The creature let out a terrifying bellow that echoed through the cave.

“Ah!” yelled the cultist. “Fine, let me kill him!”

The cultist struck at Chayyim with its staff. Chayyim moved forward and swung his sword, slicing through the cultist’s robe. The cultist gurgled, his throat spouting blood as he sank to the ground. In the dark Chayyim heard his final gasp.

“Your turn beast!” shouted Chayyim.

With practiced precision Chayyim wove out of the way of the blows that came at him. He avoided being hit, carefully timing his next attack. Counting off the swings Chayyim acted, charging straight for the beast’s heart. His swing flew swift in the dark, a lightning strike at the terror that befell him.

The beast let out an otherworldly roar as Chayyim’s blades severed its neck. The sound suffocated in a sudden silence that filled the caves. Chayyim stepped back and took a deep breath.

“It is finished.”

Chayyim dragged the corpses outside. There was a time long ago when he would have left such things for nature to deal with as intended, but those days were gone. Now he had to clean up the dead for fear of facing his foes a second time.

“My apologies,” he said to both bodies as he lit the fire around them. “May your ashes find peace.”

Chayyim thought on his recent journey as the smoke rose into the sky. The cultists seemed to be increasing in number, despite all the damage he and the others had done. He would have to report back to Arya what he had seen here. She needed to know how deep into the woods the cultists had gotten.

As the fire smoldered away, Chayyim began his journey back to the road. Turning past the trees onto a familiar path he heard a sudden blast of wind behind him. He whirled around, blades drawn, ready for anything.

“Hello Chayyim.”

Chayyim’s face turned from fear to befuddlement.

“Xue? What are you doing here?”

A group of people stood before Chayyim as if they had materialized in thin air. The Elf in the indigo cloak was the only one Chayyim recognized. Besides Xue there was a Gnome, a Human, a Dark Elf, and two that looked almost like Humans, yet something about them seemed very different.

Xue began introductions. “Chayyim, this is Zahra, Sigurd, and Mairwen. We have all been summoned by the Queen of the Forests. I told Sigurd that you should come as well.”

“And who are they?” Chayyim gestured to the others.

“I’ll tell you on the way,” said Xue. “I’m not sure you’ll even believe this…”