It was hilly primarily, though there was a range of tall mountains in the distance that indicated there was much more to this land than I realized. The dirt below us had changed from a sandy brown to a near tar-black and held plenty of short vegetation beneath large, healthy trees.
"A real shift from the shoreline, isn't it?" Lokren asked over his shoulder when he noticed the look of both surprise and amazement on my face. "There are a lot of active volcanoes in this land, but the last eruption was well over a thousand years ago. It's what caused this dirt to be as dark as it is," he said, pointing toward one of the distant peaks.
"I've never heard of a volcano. What is that?" I asked. "Hah, well, think of it like when you need to have a good shite, but instead of you having a good one, the ground is," he said with a chuckle. "That didn't help much at all, but I'll take your word for it," I said, still scouring the treetops for any signs of the Grayeaters' presence.
As we descended the other side of the pass, the trees along our path began to grow increasingly dense, reducing our overall visibility of the surrounding land. "Do you feel anything, Thoma?" Mom asked as our view of the land between us and Narin disappeared behind the canopy. "Nothing yet. Maybe that wa-..." I halted, immediately sensing something to my right that I couldn't ignore.
I was glad to see my mother had felt it, too, because we immediately leaped off and drew our blades, while I sent Kalia and Ysevel what I'd felt, prompting the others to do the same. "Go on ahead. We'll be fine," Mom shouted to Lokren, who stared at us with widened, fearful eyes.
"They're here," Kalia said quietly, drawing her blade at her hip instead of reforming her kataki. "How far do you think they are?" I whispered. "There are no traps on the roads yet, so either they've just arrived, or they just haven't found this one yet," she muttered, scanning the treeline with a fierce gaze that showed even through the slits in her helmet.
"Irun, Athar; you're with me. Thoma, Ysevel; you know my methods. Take Siraye and Devyr with you. I'll let you know if I spot them first," Kalia said in a tone that reminded me a lot of my mother when we first found Irun in the forest.
With a wordless nod, we fanned out along the treeline, making sure to stay within visible reach as we quickly and quietly made our way through the dense trees. I realized, and very quickly at that, there were several plants I couldn't recognize or tell whether they were poisonous, but I was glad my armor did a fine job of protecting me against them.
That means they must not know either, giving us the advantage, Mom sent with a wry grin as she leaped silently over a fallen log and continued her sprint as if nothing had interrupted it. I know it's not really Kalia's style, but I'd wager a few of these plants would fuck them up pretty badly if we ever needed to take care of a lot of them at once, she continued, though I could only offer her a quiet scoff.
It's not exactly your style either, Ysevel added proddingly. Fair enough, but where are these bastards, anyway? Mom sent back. I could tell she was unwilling to use her mana in case they sensed it, meaning we were forced to rely on our eyesight to find them.
Over here, Kalia sent from what I could tell was a reasonable distance away to the west of where we were. Stick to the eastern side of my position and only move in when I tell you to, she continued, letting us all know she already had a plan in place that we simply had to execute.
We sent her an acknowledging pulse before veering off to our right slightly to maintain the directional instructions she had given us. As we drew closer to the Thran, Kalia sent us constant pulses to let her know our location and the direction we needed to take.
After a few more minutes of following her commands, we came to a gentle slope that overlooked a brand new camp these Thran had made. It was brutish in nature, just like their personalities and clothing choices seemed to be, but it was efficient nonetheless. They couldn't have been there very long, since there were still a number of them who appeared to be unloading equipment and other supplies needed for the camp.
I count forty, but that doesn't mean there aren't more spread out somewhere else, I sent Kalia, but I could feel that I was wrong through our connection. No, this is just a scouting party. They're too prideful to set up guards like the elves would, she sent back, though I could tell there was something in the tone she used that suggested things might be different.
I've done plenty of ambushes in my time, but I'm still a little unfamiliar with these creatures. Anything I should know? Mom sent the rest of us, though I could tell, both through our connection and the look she had in her eyes, that she was itching for a fight. Nothing you probably don't know already, but beware the smaller ones; they're faster than they appear, Kalia cautioned us.
Wanna see who's faster? Mom sent me directly with a wolfish grin. I can't keep up with you when using Ethereal mana, but if I could use my Wraith mana, I'd leave you in the dust, I grinned back, but she shook her head. Somehow, I still doubt that, since you've never seen me really try, she chuckled through her nose quietly.
Before I could even understand what she meant by that, Kalia gave us a signal letting us know she was ready, though her version of being prepared was not something I was ready for.
Why is Irun just walking up to the front gate of their abatis? Ysevel asked me directly. I'm just as confused as you are, but let's see how this goes, I sent back with a shrug, still keeping an eye on him as he approached the felled and sharpened trees. They were tied together tightly, though each of their sharp ends was pointed outward to stave off potential intruders.
"Hello there," Irun called out in a friendly voice, startling a few of the Thran as if they hadn't heard him coming at all. "Who's this? Did lunch just walk into our laps?" one of the Thran asked. "Oh, no, no, no. I would hardly make a mouthful for you," Irun chuckled, raising his hands placatingly as he continued to move inside their camp.
"Then what makes you think you can simply walk into our camp? You wouldn't do that if you didn't know what, or who we are," one of the larger ones stepped out from behind a freshly pitched tent.
He was at least a head taller than most of the others present, which, given my limited experience with them so far, likely meant he was the leader. His waist and shoulders were adorned with dried skulls, while whatever armor he wore beneath was dyed a deep blood red. The bracers he wore were wrapped in thick chains with a pair of half-skulls embedded within them.
What is he? A captain of some sort? I asked, trying to figure out why his clothes were dyed and adorned with so many skulls. He's one of the Bloodmauls, but they're sworn enemies of the Grayeaters, Kalia sent with evident confusion. I could tell she immediately felt more uncomfortable about sending Irun in alone. He'll be alright. He's not that much of an idiot, you know? I sent back with a slight lack of confidence.
"Ah, well, you're right about that. I don't know who you are, but even if I did, it wouldn't matter, since you're going to tell me one way or another," Irun chuckled, making the large Thran snarl in both anger and confusion. "You might not know our ways, but do you not know who we are?" he asked, taking a few steps forward until he was face-to-face with Irun.
"Go on, then. I'm sure you're just dying to tell me," Irun said flatly, as if already bored by the situation. "You insolent little iskarin. I will make sure you suffer horribly for your disrespect, on my honor as Grond Bloodmaul the Untouchable," Grond snarled with visible strings of drool dripping out of the sides of his wolf-like features. "Oh, you're Grond the Untouchable?" Irun asked with feigned surprise that the creature clearly didn't pick up on.
There's that dry sarcasm of his, I sighed.
"You have heard of me, then, which means you should also know we don't take prisoners," Grond said, staring down at Irun imperiously. "No, I haven't, but I'll gladly take you as one only if you decide not to fight," he shrugged as if he weren't standing in front of someone who could crush his head with a single hand.
Grond laughed loudly, though it came out more like a dog's bark than anything else as his voice reverberated through the forest. "I'm going to have a lot of fun wi-..." Grond cut himself off, as a head rolled between his legs. "What's the matter? Oh, look at that; It's a head," Irun said, bending over to grab it from the floor and flip it around in his hand like a child would a ball.
"You dare to use such tactics on us and defile our dead?" Grond asked as he watched Irun gingerly put his index finger on the lifeless muzzle as blood began to pool beside his feet. "Like I said, I'll gladly take you prisoner if you decide not to fight," Irun reiterated, but his words only managed to piss the enormous Bloodmaul off even more.
Just as Grond raised his fist to strike, I felt Kalia give us the signal to push in and attack. Mom was quick on the uptake as she dashed in, severing Grond's arm at the elbow, while the resulting boom from her blade striking the air nearly knocked Irun unconscious. Ysevel, Devyr, and I moved in after her, slaughtering a handful that were still trying to grasp what was happening the moment we leaped over the abatis. As their heads rolled, we split up and began moving onto another group to our right.
A group of three Bloodmauls came at me, each with a weapon well over a few meters long. I was forced to dodge the sword strike aimed at my clavicle, while the second Thran moved behind the first with an axe, hoping to catch me on the far end. I was lucky I saw it coming, because it gave me just enough time to push mana into the earth beneath me and create a barrier between us.
The third came from above with a powerful downward thrust of a spear, but was only met with a deflected blow that slid off my sword to my left, giving me an opening to slice its head cleanly from its shoulders. The first Thran snarled and tried to cut my torso in half with his oversized sword, but I could feel it coming through the slight shift in the wind's mana.
Pushing off a small, earthen platform with my foot, I slid under the massive blade and severed the Thran's wrist, sending the large weapon and all of its momentum barreling into the one I'd split off with my impromptu earth wall. The blade spun a few times, leaving an arc of blood from the still-attached claw as it dug itself into the unsuspecting Thran's thigh.
Between the roars of pain from each of them, I thrust my blade up beneath the chin of the first, soaking my gauntlets in blood and brain matter, and pulled outward to sever its face in half before dashing in toward the other, who was pulling the blade out of its tree-trunk thigh. Just as he did so, he looked up, only to find the edge of my blade glinting at the height of his eyes before slicing his head in half. As the top half of his head fell, I pushed more mana into my eyes to get a much broader view of our battlefield.
Athar was doing surprisingly well, severing a few limbs from a pair of Bloodmauls that came for him before burning their bodies from the inside out with mana. I was glad to see he and Irun were closer together now, as I wasn't sure how much real battle experience Athar had.
Ysevel, on the other hand, was in almost perfect synchrony with Devyr, as their fighting styles complemented each other beautifully to leave behind a trail of corpses and gore in their wake. Limbs, heads, and gore soared through the air wherever they went, though they managed to avoid getting any of it on them as they moved about the battlefield.
Meanwhile, Mom was creating ripples in the air with every strike, discombobulating any enemies in her immediate vicinity for a moment, before striking them down with a wolfish grin accented by the blood all over her face. "Four at once? Is that a new record or something?" I shouted over to her. It wasn't because I couldn't communicate with her, but I knew her tactics often involved confusing or frightening the enemy with every strike.
Just as the words left my mouth, I felt Grond's remaining fist soaring through the air and aimed at my head through the mana between us. His eyes were widened with rage, and the knuckles on his claw-like hand were pale with tension. It didn't take an expert to understand that he was hoping to behead or turn my head into a pie filling with it, but I stood my ground until I was sure he was fully committed.
I was hoping you'd do that, I thought, pushing an obscene amount of mana into my legs, arms, and the earth beneath my feet.