The night is long and agonising for Garrick, staring into the darkness of the wilderness, keeping watch. The shadows almost seem to come to life and scuttle around the trees and rocks.
He looks at Kyra, who has warmed up well, sleeping beside the fire. Now that her clothes have dried up, he lifts her shirt slightly to get a better look at her stomach wound. Blood trickles from it now and then as she takes laboured breaths.
Garrick feels useless at his incompetence to do anything to help her, having to sit there until the sun rises before they can even move. The only positive in this situation is that the rain has finally stopped.
What feels like a torturous, endless night eventually brings way to dawn, a shining beacon of hope. Moving quickly, he wakes up Meetle, who wastes no time standing up to prepare for travelling.
"Get the horse attached to the reins, and I'll lift Kyra into the carriage." Garrick energetically demands.
"You got it, Garrick." Meetle replies as he nods his head in approval.
Kneeling next to Kyra, Garrick grabs ahold of her and stands up. Although mostly healed on the outside, his insides feel a tearing sensation as he holds Kyra's weight.
He moves her into the back of the carriage and covers her with whatever blankets and coverings he can to keep her warm and shielded from the elements. After finishing, Garrick takes her knife, moves up next to Meetle and gives it to him.
"She's as comfortable as she can be, Meetle. Let's get going." Garrick says.
Meetle looks nervously at the knife and gulps as he whips the reins, motioning the horse to start moving.
"If we get attacked, then you need to use that. I'll do my best to protect you both, but it'll be difficult." Garrick adds.
"I'm worried, Garrick. I don't know if I have it in me to use it." Meetle sadly expresses.
Garrick pats Meetle on the shoulder to comfort him.
"It's tough to take a life; I won't hold it against you if you hesitate."
The atmosphere is tense as they travel towards the Coldstone Mountains that encircle the port city of Volmyr. There are too many uncertainties flowing through their minds, worried if Kyra will survive the journey, if the weather will remain favourable, and if they will be able to find a mining settlement.
A few hours of travelling with Kyra in tow has felt like weeks. The sun reaches its peak for the day but is stuck behind darkened clouds, which makes Garrick uneasy.
Garrick's gaze turns back toward Kyra now and then; she squirms slightly from the pain in her semi-unconscious state and mumbles nonsense. Her eyes open as she shouts out.
"FARION!" Kyra shouts in her delirious state with laboured breath.
"Farion?" Meetle and Garrick ask, looking at each other confused.
A chittering is heard, echoing through the area.
Garrick's eyes go wide as he stands up, eyes darting toward the sound but unable to see the Gnolls.
"It's that sound we heard the other night, Garrick. What is it?" Meetlemire worriedly asks.
"Gnolls. They probably smell Kyra's blood; keep moving." Garrick replies with apprehension.
The journey continues as Meetle notices Garrick is restless, tapping his blade, eyes constantly flickering around, looking for the potential Gnolls. Just then, the weather takes an unfortunate turn as a loud crack of thunder is bellowed in the distance, followed by a flash of light ten seconds later. Then, the rain comes, more fierce than the night before, as every raindrop that plummets to the ground feels like an arrow piercing deep.
The rain obscures their vision as it is brought close to roughly twenty feet in front of them.
Garrick and Meetle shout with all their might, only to barely have their words reach each other.
"What do we do, Garrick?! Do we find shelter?!" Meetle shouts as he spits rainwater from his mouth.
"No! Stay on the path! We can't risk it!" Garrick replies, practically shouting in his ear.
The sun had long disappeared by now. The fury of thunder, followed by the wrath of lightning, dominates everything around them as it draws closer. Dark clouds blacken the landscape, bringing night to what should be sunset by now. The carriage coverings are shredded and ripped from the nails holding them, exposing Kyra to the harsh weather as heavy rain begins to soak her.
Garrick begins to move to try to help Kyra, but a crash of lightning impacts a nearby tree, splintering it but illuminating the landscape briefly enough for Garrick to see a Gnoll behind them, followed by a chitter.
Garrick's already bleak outlook turns to complete dread, but through that dread, a faint noise of hope arises.
"I see a light, Garrick!!!" Meetle bellows with all his might.
Garrick turns his head to see a small glimmer in the distance of some light, too far to make anything out through the darkness and torrential downpour but the only sign of bastion they've received all day.
Another crash of lightning smashes down, illuminating the landscape again as the Gnoll moves closer toward the carriage.
Garrick's gaze shifts back rapidly between the Gnoll and the glimmer of light, his mind trying to reach a decision.
The Gnoll's mouths froth with anticipation of a feast, hands clasping their spears tight.
"Don't stop moving for anything!! Get to that light!!" Garrick roars as he jumps from the carriage.
Meetle turns his head, seeing Garrick jump off.
"Garrick!! What's wrong?!?!" Meetle bellows with all his might, his words barely reaching Garrick.
Garrick points onward toward the light.
"Gnolls! Just reach that light, or we're all dead!!" Garrick shouts back.
Another crash of lightning strikes the distant mountains as a loud rumble of falling rock plummets down the side of it.
The horse begins to get restless and scared by the lightning as Meetle barely maintains control with his one arm, gripping the reins with his teeth for extra support, eventually moving forward and disappearing into the rain.
Garrick turns back, sword and shield ready, prepared for the fight ahead.
Still and alert, he waits, hands trembling, afraid of the upcoming fight. But fear makes him alert as another lightning strike illuminates his surroundings, showing two Gnolls circling either side of him.
Indecisiveness will kill him, so he charges one of the Gnolls, throwing all caution to the wind. Fighting one is dangerous enough; their savagery and power are brutal to combat. Only nimbleness from Garrick could win the fight.
Garrick closes the gap, limiting the Gnoll's spear range as the Gnoll swings with the blunt end at Garrick, but according to his plan. He ducks down and slashes his sword up high, cutting off the hand of the Gnoll.
But what can't be planned is how the enemy will react to an attack. With Garrick off-balance, the primal nature of the Gnoll is unleashed as it brings its powerful jaw down, clamping its razor-sharp teeth onto Garrick's clavicle, puncturing deep, almost shattering the bone with a single bite.
But that uncertainty of how the enemy reacts to extreme suffering works both ways. Garrick plunges his sword deep into its neck, but only a few inches before the other Gnoll enters the fight, clamping its jaws onto Garrick's elbow, pulling him off and rag-dolling him briefly before slamming him into the ground.
Garrick sloppily staggers to his feet, seeing the second Gnoll clutching the neck of the first, trying to stem the bleeding as it spurts out dark red blood from the neck and coughs more from its mouth.
Garrick contemplates what to do next, disarmed with his sword still plunged into the first Gnoll's neck. The first slowly collapses; the whines of agony and fear override any killing intent as it slowly dies.
The second turns around with a crazed look, almost like it shows emotion, but Garrick doesn't believe in monsters having emotions, only hunger and a primal need to kill.
The Gnoll lunges in a craze as it shouts with all its might, almost deafening Garrick and leaving a ringing pain. Seven feet tall and 300 pounds comes barreling toward Garrick; a direct hit would most certainly kill him. But a stroke of luck blesses him as a lightning bolt smashes the ground nearby, temporarily binding the Gnoll, giving Garrick enough time to dodge to the side and head towards his sword.
The luck doesn't last long as the Gnoll slips, turning around frantically and rushing on all fours toward Garrick again. With his hand on the grip of his sword, Garrick pulls it free and spins around, pointing it at the Gnoll, but just as he does, a crunching pain is felt in the side of his body and gets sent flying through the air, skidding along the soaked gravel path. By the time Garrick can understand what just happened, a new Gnoll has appeared, the third.
The Gnoll wields a rough war hammer, its handle splintered and weathered from years of use, the metal block on top chipped and dented. With a cackle of fury, it swings the war hammer down, causing Garrick to barely escape the impact. The strike is so heavy that Garrick feels his body lifted off the ground. In a panic, he seizes the handle of the war hammer with his good arm to control the danger the Gnoll poses, but it easily lifts the war hammer, causing Garrick to hang on precariously.
Garrick kicks his legs up and into the face of the Gnoll, forcing it to recoil in pain just as the second returns and grabs hold of his torso with both its hands, squeezing so tightly Garrick coughs blood as he gasps for breath. Taking his thumbs, he thrusts them into the Second's eyes as it yelps, creating a noise of pure agony, releasing Garrick's grip trying to escape him, but Garrick holds tight, seeing the third ready a swing toward him.
Using the second as a meat shield, turning it into the war hammer's path. The third, unable to alter the heavy war hammer's course, connects with the Second's skull, exploding it on impact, sending fragmented pieces of bone, blood and
brain matter to cover them both. As it collapsed dead to the ground, Garrick's hand shattered too, flopping lifelessly as clearly holding the Second in place caused the war hammer to hit his hand on the pass-through its skull.
Garrick is undeterred, the pain numb now, adrenaline pumping fiercely as his primal nature takes over, his deep-seated need for survival, his resilience. Leaping with exuberance, clinging his good arm onto the scruff of the Third's neck, he bites down hard on whatever flesh he can grab, tearing an ear off, a chunk of meat, a tuft of fur, the Gnoll screeching in pain as it bucks wildly trying to throw Garrick, eventually dropping the war hammer to grab solid purchase of his leg, pulling him off and slamming him into the ground as simultaneously another bolt of lightning smashes the landscape; illuminating's Garrick's face as blood, meat and fur dangle from his mouth, teeth bared like fangs, eyes of a deranged animal.
A moment of hesitation from the Gnoll is deadly as fear strikes it deep, allowing Garrick the chance to grab the war hammer and with surprising ease from his seated position, he swings it across, smashing with great force into the Gnoll's knees, causing it to yelp in suffering as it crumbles in a heap on the floor.
As the Gnoll tries to crawl away to safety, whining in fear and pain, Garrick spits out the Gnoll matter from his mouth as he stands up tall, taking a deep breath. He walks over with laboured steps toward the Gnoll, his energy sapped; at his physical limit, he struggles against his own body to lift the war hammer high but succeeds before deciding to slam it down onto the Gnoll's head, the whining stopping abruptly, as Garrick collapses back to the ground on his butt.
The sound of rain re-enters Garrick's ears, so focused on fighting the noise of the torrential downpour was blocked from his head.
Looking around for Meetle or the light ends in the sudden realisation that neither can be seen. Garrick is alone as he stands up, trying to gather his bearings.
End Chapter