Bryst

“So, should we make camp at mid day and start a little archery practice, or try to get to that?” said Zeric waving his left hand toward the large building looming up in the distance as Turon’s gaze followed his hand. “Well, I suppose the sooner in the sooner out. Besides, a little bow practice won’t do much good for me right now anyway. Cause I haven’t a bow to use against the wolves or trees should they attack again,” said Turon shrugging his shoulders and gesturing with his hands palms up. “So once again, I say the sooner in the sooner out.” “Okay but just so you will know. It could be the sooner in the sooner dead,” stated Zeric without his usual sense of cheer. Then perking up a bit he added. “Who knows? You might find the knowledge you want. Right before the guard dogs eviscerate you and gorge upon the remains of your entrails!” “Gee! Thanks for the motivation. You’ve given me so much hope!” said Turon with mockery in his voice. The first attempt of humor Zeric had heard from his soon to be archery student. “I think I have finally started rubbing off on you, so there is hope for you yet!” said Zeric with a look of accomplishment and triumph. ‘What do you mean by that?” asked Turon in a defensive way and leering at him. “What I mean is that you are starting to relax and joke a little more. It is good for the spirit. And in a place like this you need all the cheer and laughter just to stay sane.” “Sounds like you want me to be like you,” said Turon. “And what is so wrong with that?” “One of you is more than enough for this world. Besides, do you really think you could stand being around someone just like yourself?” asked Turon with genuine concern. “You are right, if you was just like me, I would probably go ‘sane’ and run like the Hells!” said Zeric laughing at his own lame joke. As the morning sun climbed to its mid day pinnacle, the two travelers steadily moved on, though ever so cautious of the dark and nasty trees along each side of the road. For any one of them could be an Emptree waiting to fill its gullet. As the structure got larger and closer, it appeared to be a massive mausoleum, but by far more cryptic looking. When noon of day arrived and hunger struck, they tried to hunt and forage to no avail. For no natural animals would come this close to such a decrepit and morbid place. In addition, no roots or herbs or any edible plants seemed to be found either, for the very soil of this place appeared to be rotten. Even the twisted, grotesque trees were thinned out and dead, or dying. Most of the ground was becoming a blackened wasteland of long since shed sphagnum that came from the Emptrees. “We had better pick up our pace so as to make it before nightfall. For the Werewolves will come out from their haunts and surely we will die,” said Zeric with a dark undertone. So hastening their pace they moved on down the ancient road. After traveling another league in eerie silence, Turon asked. “By the way, what was that nasty bird we ate? You never told me what it was. You just said eat now ask later.” “If you must know, it was a carrion eater, bird of filth, a vulture or buzzard, if you like. It is a fitting bird for this place, do you not think?” “I think I’m gonna puke!” said Turon with his face going pale. “You know, that is exactly what the buzzard did when I shot it!” said Zeric laughing. Turon turned away from Zeric and started retching; his neck out stretched and eyes bulging. When the vomit hit the ground, it made a sound like dumping out a glass of water with a splatting noise similar to wet bread or oatmeal. “Yep! That is about how the bird done it! Except you need to drop to the ground and twitch violently!” stated Zeric and turned away to start walking down the road again, grinning from ear to ear. After about ten paces or so, Turon caught up beside him. Wiping spittle from his lower lip onto his sleeve, he said. “How could you eat it knowing what it was?” “You are the one who devoured it. I just nibbled on it a bit and decided I had had all I could stand. You however, I thought you was going to ask if I had another one to cook,” said Zeric as if he was sincere. “Well, it had been awhile since I’d had something other than herbs and berries and such…say now, I’ve been wondering. Why would Saprophyte be hanging around such a dreadful place?” asked Turon. “Who can say,” answered Zeric shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe she felt sorry for all these deformed trees. That is the best idea I can think of. But then again, she is a Woodland Dryad. So she might be here taunting the Emptrees and who knows what else.” “Why do the Lycanthropes only come out at night? Will sunlight kill them or something?” asked Turon in a curious tone. “If you must know, they do come out in the day. However, they prefer the night and full moons. Therefore, they mostly just sleep through the day. Just so you will know, they are extremely hard to kill. The most common weapon is silver put on arrowheads or made into grape sized balls and shot with a sling. I hear Wolf’s Bane, a kind of plant, will do them harm. I myself prefer magical weapons or the aid of wizards.” “So if we come across one of them we’re as good as dead. Is that what your trying to tell me?” asked Turon with a worried look on his face. “Not at all,” said Zeric, “for I carry one of the best weapons against them!” patting his sheathed Elven sabre and smiling wickedly. “You have a silver edged or magical sword? Why didn’t you use it last night?” asked Turon. “Well, for one thing, I got invited into a beautiful woman. Moreover, there is a time to fight, a time for flight, and a time to hide. Last night was a time to hide.” Holding up his left hand, with palm facing Turon, he continued. “Hold on, I will explain. You see if I slaughtered that small scouting party and they never returned to their den, then we would have found ourselves swarmed by a larger number of them already. Nevertheless, they caught sent of us so they are probably scattered out all over the land looking for us right now. I am amazed that we have not been attacked yet.” Then looking around the land about them making sure one in the distance was not stalking them. “What will I do if we’re attacked? I only have a dagger and it has no enchantments in It.” said Turon with worry of being attacked. “I guess it is your lucky day! My twin daggers are special weapons as well. They are named Vengeance and Venom, but I like to call them Erratic and Wild. For they are completely unpredictable and change into different weapons of immense power, depending upon ones needs. However, I have never had much luck with them myself. Once I needed them to become long swords and they became a spoon and fork! Lucky for me I was in a tavern at Trade Cross Village up against some drunken fur traders. When they seen my daggers transform into able utensils, they burst out laughing. One said he could not kill a man with an empty stomach. Another said he could not believe I brought tableware to a sword fight. The third said he had never seen an Elf so hungry that he would eat a rotten fur trader like himself, and slapped the second one on the back. The rest were so busy laughing they could not hold their weapons up! So these daggers will get the job done, but do not expect the weapons you wanted when they change,” said Zeric with a look of ‘better you than me’ on his face. “However,” continued Zeric, if one of them should turn into a bow with no string, try to draw back like it has one and then release. For it may not have a string or arrows, but it may still fire something.” Raising his palms up, “maybe flowers, dog poop or who knows what.” Then he smiled his insane smile again. Unstrapping his baldric and removing his quiver of arrows from it, Zeric handed the blades and shoulder belt over to Turon and then tied the quiver to his hip. Turon looked at the daggers with curiosity, then put the baldric over his shoulder and started walking. As afternoon wore on Zeric