Tired Of Death

Afternoon drew on, slowly fading into evening. Below a large oak tree a rabbit hopped through the first fallen leaves of autumn. It stopped at a shape half buried in the ground, sniffing the air cautiously, its little bunny nose wobbling cutely.

There was a movement in the air, and with a dull explosion a shape appeared nearby. The animal, panicked, scampered off through the woods and straight into the waiting jaws of a hungry fox.

Totally uninterested in the wonders of nature, Ichabod stood over the shape lying on the forest floor. Eventually he poked it with his tail. The shape g.r.o.a.n.e.d.

"Still alive then," said the imp.

Another m.o.a.n.

"The Overlord sent me to ask how your hunt is going. From your position I'm going to assume my report isn't going to involve words like: 'Target achieved' or, 'Subject terminated with extreme prejudice'. Shame, I always wanted to say that."

"Bugger off," came the reply, in a voice full of pain.

The imp scratched itself. "Now now, that's no way to speak to an ally."

A hand, covered in dried blood, moved slightly.

"That's the spirit!" Said Ichabod encouragingly. "Never say die! If at first you don't succeed and all that…"

"Shut… up."

The imp crossed his arms. "Touchy." He looked around, sneering at the beauty of the woodlands around him. "Listen, I can't stand about all day while you have your nap. I need to take a report back to his Evilness. What do you want me to say, apart from that you've tried flying and found you weren't very good at it."

Veronica scrabbled slowly and painfully into a sitting position, resting his bloodied body against the tree trunk. Ichabod watched impartially.

"I… I shall resume… my hunt. Dreth… will not… escape. This… this I vow," he gasped.

"Riiight," replied the little demon, nodding slowly. "Very well, I can see you're busy, I'll leave you to it. Enjoy!"

There was a short clap of imploding air, and the imp was gone.

Veronica managed a scowl at the empty space, and then, with some effort, whistled. That task achieved, he lay still, breath coming in ragged gasps.

Eventually, through the ever darkening evening air, two red eyes could be seen. They moved closer as the Nightmare steed walked up to the prone form and stood still over it.

The Violator reached up, m.o.a.ning in pain, and grasped at the reigns, pulling himself upright with no small effort. Leaning against his horse he rummaged around in the saddle pack, eventually bringing out a small vial of yellow liquid.

Removing the cork with his teeth, he took a deep swig, drinking the contents in one gulp.

The potion drained, he dropped the container and fell back to the floor as the healing magic did its work. As it did so he scowled. 'Dreth had tricked him! Next time the outcome would be different. Next time it would be Dreth that was left broken and dying on the ground.

"I, The Violator swear this!" he announced to the forest at large.

The trees paid no attention, and the Anti-Paladin was left to reflect upon his failure with only the sound of birdsong to accompany his thoughts.

~ * ~

The cabin stood hidden in the shadows of the night, a squat square form, crouched under a group of large and ancient trees.

"Better let me lead," said Adel. "Tybalt is liable to stab first and ask questions later."

Dreth nodded. "Very well, but I'm going to be close behind you elf. Any tricks…" He left the threat hanging.

Adel walked forward, knocked three times and then pushed the door a fraction. "Tybalt? It's me, Adel. It's okay. Tybalt?" She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"Look what they're doing!" exclaimed Percy, peering in too.

The zombie's shout finally alerted Emerald and another man, presumably Tybalt, who were busy being busy in a small bunk, which was creaking under the strain of their activities. With a shriek Emerald grabbed at the blankets.

"Nice t…" Percy started to say.

"Get out!" screamed Emerald.

"No need to be so abrupt," muttered Percy, as Adel closed the door to allow the two to dress. "Only it's not every day you see such a perfect set of t…"

"I can't believe Tybalt," said Adel. "I trusted him."

"Was she nice and sweet?" Cuthbert asked Percy.

"At least he hasn't harmed her," said Dreth. "I would have had to kill you both if that had happened, in a probably vain hope that your steaming remains would have pacified the entity that's interested in her."

"Sweet, succulent and so tender," Percy was saying. "With the most wonderful t…"

The door opened, to reveal the man, Tybalt, now dressed in leather armour covered with a dashing black and yellow silk tunic. A set of slim swords were slung over his back. He was tall and well built, with a lean frame. Obviously a fighter who could look after himself, both on the battlefield and off. Shoulder length black hair waved in the wind, and he pushed it out of his eyes as he bowed slightly to the half elf.

"Adel, you're back early," he said.

"Obviously," Adel replied. "I see you're keeping the hostage secure." She raised an eyebrow.

Tybalt flushed. "You may enter now," he said.

The group trudged in. Emerald was standing up barefoot, adjusting her robes.

"Having fun?" asked Dreth dryly.

Emerald smiled at him sweetly in way of reply. "I've been asleep for a long time," she said. "A girl has needs you know."

"Come on," said Dreth. "We have to move, the forces of evil are on our trail."

"I thought we were the forces of evil?" asked Cuthbert.

Dreth made a face. "The bad forces of evil. We're the good forces of evil." He paused to think about this for a moment. "Well, you know what I mean." He turned to Emerald again. "Are you ready?"

"Just have to get my shoes," she replied, hunting about under the bed.

Percy nudged Cuthbert. "See," he said. "Wouldn't you just love to nibble on those?"

"Ooh yes," said his friend. "Perfect toes!"