All the grown-ups were executed, their heads severed by the cold, dirty, and already blood-stained cutlasses of the pirates. The air was thick with the stench of blood and fear.
Grabbing the terrified children, the pirates ventured back into the dense forest, driven by a singular, ominous goal: to find their Lord. The being or deity for whom they had slain their crewmates and burned the ship demanded these sacrifices.
Meanwhile, their captain and what was left of his crew decided to head towards the other ship. Rather than venturing into the forest and likely to their deaths, they chose a different path-skirting the forest's edge.
The idea was to avoid the darkness and lurking dangers within the forest, especially the fearsome Clawman. In the open field, they would have a better chance of fighting or escaping if confronted.
Their boots crunched through the sand, which felt unnervingly like quicksand. Each step seemed to pull them deeper, though the sand remained deceptively firm for the time being.
The moonlight cast eerie shadows on the landscape, adding to the tension.
They were nearly halfway to the other ship, unaware it had been burned by their own crewmates, when the captain's leg was suddenly swallowed by the quicksand.
"BLIMEY, HELP ME!" he bellowed, struggling fiercely against the force pulling him down.
His crew rushed to his aid, pulling him free with great effort after three grueling attempts.
"What in the blazes is this damn thing doin' here?" he muttered, scanning the area warily.
"Fetch me some rocks, lads," he ordered.
Taking rocks in hand, he threw them in various directions, trying to find a safe path. But every rock sank, indicating the entire area was quicksand. He then cautiously approached the sea and tossed more rocks. The water was shallow, but the rocks disappeared again.
"Try swimming 'round it," he commanded one of his men.
The crewmate waded into the water but was quickly pulled under, vanishing without a trace.
"It can't be... Quicksand Rana?" the captain's face was a mix of disbelief and horror.
"Oi, Captain, what be that?" a crewmate asked nervously.
"No time for chit-chat, ye damn fool! It's a fish that lives in quicksand and can swim in the sea, pullin' people down to eat 'em," the captain explained urgently.
"Forest it is," he conceded, frustration and fear evident in his voice.
As they ventured into the forest, the air grew thicker with the scent of decaying leaves and distant, haunting sounds. The forest blocked out much of the yellow hued moonlight, casting everything in a deep, foreboding gloom.
"Just a little more," muttered the captain, his unease palpable. Years of exploration had honed his instincts, and the eerie silence that now enveloped them was unsettling. Not even the usual chatter of insects or the calls of birds disturbed the quiet; it was as if the forest itself held its breath in anticipation.
"AAAAH!" The scream pierced through the stillness, a familiar voice that sent a chill down the captain's spine.
"Waled?" he muttered under his breath, recognizing his crewmate's voice.
Choosing to ignore the dread creeping up on him, the captain quickened his pace, his crewmates following suit.
THUMP
A smaller tree crashed down directly in their path, narrowly missing the captain who led the way.
All eyes turned to the fallen trunk, expecting to see the beast. Instead they beheld the grisly sight of another crewmate hurled with such force that he had brought down the tree with him. His guts spilled out, leaving only his head and torso intact, covered in red.
Shock paralyzed them for a fleeting moment before adrenaline kicked in, propelling them to scramble around the trunk and press onward.
"BLIMEY, BLIMEY, BLIMEY!" cursed the captain, his voice strained with panic as they ran.
Ahead, a faint light approached rapidly, casting shadows that danced ominously in the gloom. Uncertain if it heralded friend or foe, their frazzled minds could not discern, prompting a panicked about-face as they sought to flee.
"OI!" The voice cut through the darkness, halting their retreat.
Turning back, the captain saw Vike, another crewmate whom he had trusted, now revealed as one of the traitors.
"Vike, me son of a bilge's rat be gone mad! Damn mad! We need to reach the ship. Where be the rest of the crew?" the captain demanded, desperation and betrayal etched in every word.
Vike collapsed to his knees, his torch clattering to the ground, on the surrounding foliage and flowers. His gaze lifted upwards, mouth agape in disbelief.
"I've done it now. I'm a fool. We all were. Praising the one true Lord? What a bloody joke. They..." His voice cracked with bitterness.
"They... The Circle Order. They lied to us."
"What do ye mean, Vike? Do ye even know what's happening? Are ye addled with drink? Answer me!" The captain's voice cut through the tense air, demanding clarity.
Vike bowed his head, almost in a
prayer-like position, and whispered, his voice barely audible.
The captain approached, grabbing Vike's shoulder and pulling him upright
forcefully.
Vike reciprocated, pushing the captain back with a desperate strength. "We be all doomed. The beast... No, Koher doesn't want children for sacrifice. He wants us all. He wants to feast on every living soul on this cursed island..."
As flames licked at branches and leaves, Vike glimpsed the beast in the distance, toying with its newfound prey.
Shoving the captain aside, Vike turned and bolted, but the beast waited until the right moment to emerge from the shadows and lunge forward a swift, lethal arc, cutting him down with a single savage slash.
"There's no fleeing now. We fight," declared the captain grimly, resigning himself to the inevitable confrontation.
From the bushes nearby, a young boy emerged, tears streaming down his face. He had witnessed the horror of the beast, and in the face of such terror, human instinct prevailed-he sought refuge among the humans, despite whatever atrocities they may have committed.
The Captain drew the boy close, his gaze fixed on Clawman as it gnashed and tore at its prey. Its head swung back and forth, scattering clumps of meat and crushed bones.
Inevitably, the moment arrived when the beast turned its attention towards them. "Tis time it be finished, and soon it'll turn its gaze on us! Prepare yourselves, mates!"
"Aye." "Aye."
As the creature advanced towards them, Captain sensed something peculiar hindering its approach. "There be somethin' here. A plant or a flower protectin' us. The wind carries a scent it despises more than before," he exclaimed, optimism rising as he rummaged through the burning foliage despite the searing pain in his hands.
Among the flames, he discovered Wolfor, renowned for repelling not just wolves by touch but also by scent. Gathering as much as he could, he draped it over himself and instructed others, "Cover yourselves," ensuring the child was protected as well.
Emerging from the bushes were more survivors, surprisingly resilient after the initial onslaught—women, men, and children alike, all trembling with fear.
*FLASHBACK END*
...
In the lofty tavern, mist settling below and nightly fireflies aglow, Ort concluded, "That be the tale of the Beast of Howling Treetop, as we know it."
Jack pondered, 'So the beast be not a beast, but a man, twisted by fate. 'Tis a marvel what exists in this world.'
//Author's Notes://
Ahoy, dear readers. That flashback was quite the journey, wasn't it? With so many characters and events, things can get a bit tangled, I understand.
To clarify, this flashback is a crucial narrative element. Yes, I may have hinted at its importance (sorry) but this particular flashback scene should've unfolded after the Howling Treetop's defeat.
I aimed to immerse you in the storytelling by showing rather than telling.
Rather than retelling this tale, I'll reference these chapters as they unfold.