Chapter 68 - Wailing Woe

As they filled their baskets with the precious herbs, a haunting sound pierced the air, echoing through the narrow canyon walls. A woman's cry, mournful and chilling, seemed to reverberate from all directions, freezing the foraging on their feet. Their hearts pounded with a mixture of fear and grim anticipation. They knew the mountain pass was treacherous, but such an eerie, unsettling wail was beyond their expectations."Do you hear that?" Gilbert's voice broke the tense silence, his finger pointing toward the source of the ominous sound."What?" Hjalmar's gruff tone betrayed a hint of unease.Aden and Ser Percival instantly snapped to alert, their weapons at the ready."A woman's voice," Gilbert explained, his brow furrowed with concern. "It's like a woman crying."The group fell silent, straining to pinpoint the origin of the haunting cries. The sound seemed to shift and distort as it bounced off the rocky walls, making it impossible to discern its source.Maeda's hand tightened around the hilt of his katana, his eyes narrowing as he scanned their surroundings for any sign of danger.Hjalmar's grip on his hammer was white-knuckled, the seasoned warrior bracing himself for an ambush or some unseen threat.Aden's spear swept from side to side, his movements fluid yet tense, like a coiled spring ready to unleash its deadly force.Ser Percival muttered a silent prayer, his sword held firmly before him as he sought divine guidance in the face of this unnerving mystery.The wailing grew louder, more desperate as if the unseen woman were begging for aid or warning them away from some impending doom.Gilbert swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. "What...what do we do?"The crying grew louder and more intense, filling the air with a sense of dread and horror. The defenders could feel the weight of the spirits' sorrow and despair, their hearts heavy with the knowledge of the tragedy that had befallen them.And then, suddenly, the crying stopped, replaced by an eerie silence that was almost more unsettling than the sound itself. The defenders exchanged a glance, their eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. They knew that they had to be careful, for the pass was known to be a place of great danger and mystery."All right, everyone! double your pace so we can leave this place as quickly as possible," Ser Percival didn't want to risk anymore, the more time they lingered around the more they got dangerous place.As the foraging party worked their way through the treacherous terrain of the wailing widow pass gathering the rest of the herbs, their senses were on high alert for any signs of danger. Ser Percival had to speak up."They call this path the Wailing Widow Pass," he explained, his voice steady and measured. "The air flows through the cracks and gaps in the mountain, creating a sound that can be heard for miles around."The foraging party exchanged a glance, their eyes wide with curiosity and intrigue. They had heard stories of the Wailing Widow Pass from the villagers, of its eerie reputation and its ghostly apparitions, but they had never heard an explanation quite like this.Sir Percival continued, his voice filled with wisdom and insight. "The sound can be unsettling, especially for those who are not familiar with the area," he said. "But it is simply the result of the natural forces at work in the mountains.""Did you hear that?" Gilbert's voice cut through Ser Percival's explanation, laced with urgency."Again?" Aden asked, his brow furrowing in concern.The haunting wail echoed once more through the rocky walls, vivid and eerie, unmistakable to their ears."Yeah, that's no wind," Aden confirmed, his trained senses picking up on the unnatural quality of the sound. "Too real to be mere howling through mountain cracks and gaps."He scanned their surroundings warily, trying to pinpoint the source of the haunting call as it bounced off the ridges, distorting its origin."Men! How're your herbs?" Ser Percival called out, continuing to fill his own bucket."Half filled," Aden reported. "Almost full," came Gilbert's response. "Full," Maeda's terse reply cut through the tension. The nimble samurai had climbed over obstacles to harvest the most.*Wham!"What the hell?" Before Hjalmar could answer, a rock barely smaller than a human head dropped perilously close beside him, shattering the eerie silence.Everyone was startled, eyes snapping upward to scan the ridge above. A swishing sound came from the sky as another rock slammed into Hjalmar's upraised shield with a sickening crunch of metal."Rockslide?" Aden's grip tightened on his spear.But this was no natural occurrence - someone or something was deliberately dropping the boulders on their party from the ridge's top.The foraging team heard the unmistakable beating of wings from over the cliff's edge where the rocks rained down.A tense silence fell over the Wailing Widow Pass, broken only by a piercing screech that ripped through the air, chilling their blood.⁕⁕⁕It turned out Gilbert was somewhat correct – it was indeed a woman's voice coming from the gaps and cracks of the mountain, but not just any woman's voice. It was the harpies."Tori-ningyo!" Maeda exclaimed, the Japanese words for 'bird maidens' ringing with alarm.No one understood the meaning, but all recognized the subject - harpies had found them.The winged creatures revealed themselves, perched at the ridge's edge above, kicking and hurling rocks down onto the party."Men! To the Silent Forest! Quick!" Ser Percival commanded. "We've got what we need. Move! Move! Move!"Weighed down by their baskets of freshly harvested herbs, the foraging team turned and hurried toward the direction of the Silent Forest."Incoming!" Hjalmar's shout raised all eyes skyward as dozens of rocks rained down from the ridge, kicked and thrown by the relentless harpies."Protect the herbs with your lives!" Ser Percival barked the order."Yes, sir!" came the affirmative replies as each man clutched his basket tight.Ser Percival and Hjalmar raised their shields, providing scant cover as they sheltered pairs of men beneath. Hjalmar shielded Aden while Percival covered Maeda and Gilbert.Maeda returned fire, arrows darting through the dusty smoke towards their winged assailants.The men raced towards the far end of the pass leading to the Silent Forest's tree line as more rocks bombarded them from above.*Bam!One particularly large boulder struck Gilbert squarely in the back, sending the acolyte crumpling unconscious to the ground."Gilbert!" Aden rushed to check on his downed comrade as Hjalmar provided cover with his shield held high.As rocks continued raining down, they tried desperately to rouse the fallen acolyte."How is he?" Ser Percival closed in, defending them with his own shield. He interlocked it with Hjalmar's, creating a sturdier umbrella of protection against the plummeting boulders.Aden examined Gilbert carefully. The acolyte showed no signs of concussion or bleeding. So either broken bones or internal damage, but Aden couldn't assume the worst."He's knocked out. We can't move him until we know he's okay from his own mouth." Experience taught Aden not to relocate someone rendered unconscious, as Gilbert may have broken bones, internal injuries, or head trauma. Moving him could compound those issues, even fatally."We're sitting ducks here. We need to move Neckbeard somewhere safe," Ser Percival grunted as the rocks intensified their bombardment.Maeda ducked under the knight's shield, joining their huddled shelter.The group found themselves pinned, the ruthless harpies continuing their aerial assault without mercy. Escape seemed impossible with their injured comrade.Maeda kept on unleashing his arrows while under Ser Percival's shield. some of his arrows hit the harpies but none were fatal. The rising dust obscured their vision. Even with Maeda's expertise in archery he still struggles to find his mark. The Hi-On's warrior stopped unleashing his arrows. It was a wise move not to waste them.The harpies kept kicking rocks on the ridge walls. fell on top of the foraging party like raindrops. reverbrating the shields.They didn't want to engage the party in close combat. Either they have an absolute advantage against the foraging party or maybe because the party had Aden with his spear skill and Maeda's archery marksman skill on the ground which had already proven fatal against them in the early encounters."Shit, we can't hold it any longer!" Hjalmar growled, his voice strained as his shield started to crack under the relentless barrage of falling rocks.Aden's eyes darted around, quickly assessing their dire situation. Not far off, he spotted a small alcove that could provide temporary shelter. "Hjalmar, help me with Gilbert. Hold his back and drag him to that alcove," he instructed, his gaze locking onto the potential refuge. "I'll make sure his head doesn't move too much.""Sure!" Hjalmar acknowledged, his face set in grim determination.Aden turned his attention to the others. "Ser Percival and Maeda, shelter us with your shields and provide cover fire as we move.""Affirmative," Ser Percival's response was clipped yet resolute."Ryokai!" Maeda's curt affirmation carried the weight of a seasoned warrior."We have to do this together," Aden stressed, his tone leaving no room for argument.He positioned himself at Gilbert's head, ready to stabilize the injured man. Hjalmar braced himself to support Gilbert's back. Ser Percival and Maeda took up defensive positions, their shields raised and weapons at the ready.They waited with bated breath for a lull in the deadly hail of rocks."Now go! Now! Now! Now!" Aden's urgent command rang out as the moment presented itself.In a coordinated flurry of movement, the party sprang into action. Hjalmar and Aden carefully dragged Gilbert's limp form, shielded by Ser Percival and Maeda's bodies as they deflected the incoming projectiles.Each step felt like an eternity as they inched closer to the alcove, the sound of shattering rock and screeching wings filling the air around them.Finally, they reached the relative safety of the alcove, huddling together as the barrage continued unabated, their only respite the solid rock walls sheltering them from the deadly onslaught.Now Gilbert that was inside the alcove, he was safe for now. The rest of the party was still exposed to the falling rocks but at least Gilbert was safe.blood ran from Gilbert's head down to his left cheek. Aden checked on it. The rock grazed his head, but nothing serious.⁕⁕⁕Gilbert woke up, still dazed. "Gilbert!" Aden exclaimed, relief washing over him as his portly comrade opened his eyes. Aden remained alert, spear at the ready, scanning for any incoming harpies.Gilbert, still in a haze, asked, "What's happening?""You got hit by falling rocks," Aden explained, his brow furrowed with concern.Gilbert looked around, squinting against the pain radiating through his skull. Despite his condition, his thoughts turned to the villagers. "How's...how's the herbs?"Aden felt a surge of respect for Gilbert's dedication. "They are safe," he assured, gesturing toward the intact herb baskets beside them. "Now, can you move?"Gilbert tentatively moved his arms and legs. "Yes. I think.""Any hurt? Anything?" Aden pressed, his voice laced with urgency."I don't think so," Gilbert replied, his movements becoming more fluid."Try to move your neck and body," Aden instructed.Gilbert stretched his neck and shoulders, wincing slightly. "Anything?""Nah, it just stiffed...and my head is spinning," Gilbert admitted.Aden examined Gilbert thoroughly, now that the acolyte was conscious. Finding no serious injuries, he breathed a sigh of relief. The portly nerd seemed alright.Ser Percival glanced at Gilbert while maintaining the shield that sheltered them from the raining rocks. "Let's go! Father Edgar will check you up in the courthouse!""The herbs..." Gilbert reached for the baskets, determined to safeguard their precious cargo. He tried to stand, his movements sluggish and unsteady. "Ugh," he groaned, falling to his knees."Leave that to me," Aden said, picking up the herb baskets and slinging them over his left shoulder. He needed his spear hand free. Grasping Gilbert's hand firmly, he helped him to his feet. A rumbling sound echoed from the top of the ridge, and Aden's grip tightened instinctively, bracing for whatever threat loomed ahead.A deafening rumble echoed from the top of the ridge, like a thousand orcs marching. A massive boulder began rolling down, gathering speed with every rotation.Gilbert struggled to stand firmly, still dizzy from the earlier impact. "What the hell again?" Hjalmar growled, his gaze snapping toward the source of the noise.The gigantic boulder hurtled toward them, a relentless force of nature. Hjalmar swiftly positioned his kite shield, deflecting the boulder's course with a mighty blow. The impact reverberated through the ridge walls, the shield shattering under the immense force.After a relentless barrage of raining rocks, the assault finally ceased, leaving the foraging party battered but alive. "We are saved," Gilbert exhaled, relief evident in his voice."Not yet," Ser Percival warned, his eyes narrowing as a silhouette emerged from the dust cloud where the boulder had originated.A tall, muscular figure with wings materialized, the dust swirling around her imposing form. Gilbert rubbed his eyes, squinting to make sense of the hazy vision. "A harpy?""No," Ser Percival uttered grimly. "It's the harpy."The dust settled, revealing the harpy in all her terrifying glory, her powerful wings outstretched as she surveyed her prey with cold, merciless eyes. The foraging party braced themselves, their grip tightening around their weapons as the harpy's gaze swept over them, her intentions unclear but undoubtedly sinister.A harpy larger than any they had encountered emerged from the dust cloud, her gait casual as she approached the foraging party. Unlike the others, this harpy exuded an aura of rugged ferocity. Her muscular body bore three diagonal slash marks, battle scars that stretched from her left shoulder to her right waist, a testament to countless battles endured.A light drizzle fell, the mantle the party wore becoming increasingly sodden. The storm limited their vision, adding an ominous shroud to the already tense atmosphere.Hjalmar, the fearless berserker, stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and the muscular harpy until they were mere inches apart, each measuring the other with an intensity that crackled like lightning.She towered over Hjalmar's imposing figure, her muscular frame matching the Vjordian berserker's impressive stature. An equal match, they sized each other up, their eyes locked in a silent challenge.The muscular harpy sneered, her sharp white teeth bared in a vicious snarl. Hjalmar remained unfazed, his steely gaze unwavering as he took a bold step closer, issuing his own silent taunt.Tension reached its breaking point, and they charged at one another with primal fury. The muscular harpy leaped forward, her deadly talons slashing toward Hjalmar. He raised his partly broken shield, deflecting the lethal blows as he swung his hammer with earth-shattering force.Feathers scattered like shrapnel as the harpy's wings propelled her into a dizzying aerial assault. Hjalmar pivoted, his hammer arcing through the air, narrowly missing her torso. She retaliated with a flurry of slashes, her talons ripping through Hjalmar's armor like talons through parchment.Undeterred, Hjalmar roared, his battle cry echoing through the ridge as he pressed his advantage. The harpy retreated, her wings beating furiously, stirring the dust into a blinding vortex. They resumed their fight inside the dustscreen of the vortex.⁕⁕⁕