Lugu

It was a normal winter night. The moon was shining bright in the sky, the wind was howling and everything seemed to be peaceful.

A simple stableboy wandered into The Forest of Nightmares, searching for safety from the tracking hounds and town officials for the crime he had commited. While running deeper into the forest, he began to notice weirdly shaped shadows behind and in the trees. He began to hear the crunching sound snow makes when you step on it closing in on him from every angle. Not long after, he saw the feared tracking hounds closing in from the east, but to his misfortune, that was the least of his problems. From other directions came monsters as bad as your imagination can possibly make up. Having all those eyes on him, he still had the feeling that something greater, far more malicious than the creatures surrounding him, was watching his every move. Suddenly, having lost all hope of survival, the scenery changed. He was back in the town, yet something was different. He heard the distant sounds of battle and saw flames rising from the far end of the town. He was struck by fear as all of it seemed too much like the night his parents were killed. He rushed to his home as fast as he could. He saw his parents there, trying to hide their only son. Seeing his thought-to-be dead parents again after twelve years left him an emotional wreck. He didn't understand any of it, yet it was as real as anything. When the soldiers had made their way up to his house and were about to attack his parents, he threw himself at them in a desperate try to save his parents. It got him nowhere, a soldier stabbed him through the guts with a spear. The soldiers then left him there to die and went on to his parents. And then he was back in the forest again, this time without the creatures, but the wounds he received remained. He was in excruciating mind-numbing pain. Realizing he has to get out of there, he screamed as hard as he could, hoping for someone to come and help him. As he was slowly crawling towards the exit of the woods, he left behind a bloody trail, marking his almost non-existent progress. He suddenly felt the weight of the malicious eyes again, rendering him unable to move his body even an inch, not even able to manage a scream. The fear was already running too deep in him. And as fast as the wind, something was on him, crushing his skull right after he got a glimpse at the weirdly beautiful non-human shape.

A caravan had just gotten to the crossroads where one way lead into The Forest of Nightmares, which usually only beings driven by fear or desperation entered. The other way was a detour around the forest, long yet safe. Even though the caravan was guarded heavily by skilled knights and marksmen, they dared not enter the forest. While moving along the safe route, they heard the most horrifying scream coming from the forest. Immediately all the guards got into formation, but nothing came from the forest, nothing but a heartsickening wave passing through them all, numbing their limbs and reaching for their souls.

The officials, together with their tracking hounds, had just about entered the forest when the wave hit them – none of them survived.

At the caravan there was total panic. Half of the guards were unconscious and the other was unable to move a single muscle. But there was one who remained untouched by the monstrosity that had just happened. He was an elderly man with white hair falling to his shoulders. His face was lean and hard from what you could tell from under his great white beard. He bigger and more muscular than an average knight. He was wearing armor of silver and a majestic piece of craftmanship, hammered by the finest smiths there are. Under his left arm he was carrying a helm in the shape of a king-cobra. In his right hand he was holding a greatsword with a snake-shaped pommel. On his back flapped a golden cape with the sigil of the legendary Captain Komamur – the commander of the Royal Fleet of the late king.

He started giving out orders immediately, while at the same time trying to reassure the soldiers that there was nothing threatening their life. After some time, the soldiers regained control over their bodies and carried out the orders given to them. They lifted their unconscious comrades onto the caravan and continued their journey around the forest.

A fortnight later they arrived in the village of Archigo. The villagers were very weary of them – of anyone after the forest incident. After proper introduction, the folk was much friendlier, as they found out they have Komamur's vice-captain Barthol in their humble village.

It came out Barthol was traveling through the kingdom to make sure no wrong came to good people – it had been the last wish of his captain. Having heard that, the village-chief gave them a full briefing about the current situation in the village.

Barthol and his crew decided to answer the villages prayers and check out the forest and get some clues about what it was exactly that was causing all the commotion. They stayed the night and left for the forest at dawn. When they had almost arrived to the forest, Barthol told his men to put up camp and wait for him there no matter what happened.

He entered the forest with sheer determination to put and end to whatever madness was waiting inside. He felt something powerful keeping and eye on him right from the start. The aura those unknown beings emitted would have left any normal man unable to move or breathe properly – but that wasn't the case with Barthol. He continued deeper into the forest, all the while strengthening his resolve to keep his mind and soul safe from the rising pressure the aura left. By the time he was deep inside the forest it felt as if he had claws ripping at his very being, craving for an opening. It grew darker in the middle, where the trees huddled closer together.

Barthol was already so used to the atmosphere around there that he could make out three strong sources for the aura not more than fifty feet away and dozens more far off, scrambled around the forest. He unsheathed his greatsword, ready to fight at any given moment.

Suddenly one of them came at him head on. It was a creature of magnificent yet disturbing beauty. It was mostly human shaped, except for its demonic head and gigantic claws instead of hands. Its eyes were the red of rubies, yet so very full of hatred and hunger – he could see himself reflecting from them. It had no ears nor a nose but the mouth was a wile grin, with every second tooth as sharp as a dagger – it covered half of his face. It was twice the size of a normal man. But what made it beautiful was the fact that its body was an almost translucent dark shade, the little remaining moonlight giving it a mesmerizing glow.

It moved faster than anything ever should, but Barthol was no normal man. He spun around, evading the rush attack. He slashed at the creature while it was still in motion from the rush. He felt some heavy resistance, but the sword cut a long inch deep wound on its back. There was a deafening scream which distracted Barthol for a moment. Fortunately he was able to recover right before a second creature was at his backside, trying to claw at his neck. He dropped down, the second creatures claws flying over his head. He put down his left arm, pushing himself towards the first creature legs first, while at the same time cutting off the second creatures arm with his sword. Barthol hit the first creature, who had turned around to attack him, right in the chest and sent It tumbling backwards. He then struck his sword into the ground to stop his momentum and get back his balance. He got back on his feet swiftly. The moment he got his sword out from the ground, both of the creatures were on him, much fiercer than before. He parried the clawing of the first creature with his sword, but couldn't evade the blow of the second creature. The hit was monstrous, but left only a scratch as penetrating the armor took the most of the blows power. He was now able to get into a position where he could see and fight both of them properly. But the creatures were not to be fooled, they both moved to flank him from different sides.

Barthol had no choice but to finish one of them off quickly. He turned to the one with only one arm left and charged, hoping Its defenses were lowered enough due to the lack of an arm. He drew a dagger from his belt and threw it at the creature. When It lifted Its good arm to block it, Barthol had already stabbed his sword into Its guts and slid it so that it came back out at the side.

He turned to face the second one, when a sudden pain surged through his entire body. It left him unable to block the incoming attack. The blow sent him flying twenty feet in to a tree. Half of his helm was torn to pieces but the claws didn't get to him – not this time. Barthol realized that the pain must have come from the scratches he had gotten before, but how. “It must be poison,” he thought. “The creatures could already immobilize most of their prey by only being near them, but in case the prey fought back, they had inhuman strength as well, and to top it all off, they had poison – they were the perfect hunters,” he thought now with a slight touch of fear in him.

Having spaced out for a moment, his mind started to wander to places it never should, but he managed to get his focus back just in time. He got back up, focusing his eyes on the foe ahead. He took a clearly defensive stance to make sure he didn't suffer from any more poisonous wounds.

In a flash, the creature was in melee range. They exchanged a flurry of blows, each one making it harder for Barthol to hold his own. The poison was slowly but surely spreading through his body – he was in no condition to allow this fight to carry on much longer. He had to use some of his hidden strength.

He started channeling energy through his body, slowing the advance of the poison as well powering himself up a little. He dodged the next attack with ease and was already at the back of the creature, cutting off Its head.

Having won the battle, he had a brief moment of relaxation. He sighed and sat down, trying to think of a way to counter the poison flowing through him.

That didn't last for long. When his Adrenaline level had decreased and his senses started to clear, he had a terrible realization. He had only fought with two creatures – there had been the presence of three nearby.

Barthol focused as hard as he could, concentrating on sensing the whereabouts of the enemy. He didn't get even the slightest of clues. He got up on his feet, ready to fight. He was anxious, picturing the enemy coming at him from any direction. This suspense didn't last for long though. The last creature stepped out from behind the trees about sixty feet from him, right where he could see It.

The creature let out a shrill shriek, letting Barthol know of Its killing intent. It was immeasurable and insatiable. It felt for him as if the gravity had just tripled. And worse of all – it was growing. He had no more time to waste, he could not let this go on. He charged the creature, finding It bigger and more deformed than the first two. By the time he reached It, he was barely able to keep his sword from falling to the ground due to the immense gravity. The creature didn't even seem to notice him, not before he hit It as hard as he could with the intention of cutting the creature in half. The sword didn't even leave a scratch, it just stopped the moment it connected. Barthol was at a loss for words.

Then the creature became active. It hit him flat in the chest, destroying the armor and sending him flying. Before he could even hit the ground, he got hit in the back, this time with the claws. They pierced his armor and penetrated into his lower back, leaving four holes in him. The creature disappeared into the forest right after the hit.

Barthol hit the ground hard. Even though the creature had disappeared, Its presence hadn't. He could hardly breathe with such wounds and gravity, but he had to do something. He took off his armor as it proved to only limit his movements since it didn't stop the attacks. As he tried to stand up, he fell back to the ground. He could feel it was the poison in him. His eyesight got blurry and the world started spinning around, then his eyes fell shut.

When he opened his eyes, he was on a bunk in what seemed to be a ship. He heard all sorts of screaming coming from the outside. He stood up and began moving towards the doorway, but it all seemed too familiar to him. He was on his ship, and the screams belonged to his former crew members. He hurried outside. There was fighting everywhere, the ship was surrounded by an enemy fleet. He held his sword as best he could, trying to make out the situation better. He saw Komamur fighting up ahead, back to back with his vice-captain Barthol. He realized what was gonna happen next, it had been the day he lost his captain and the whole crew, the day they lost their first and only battle. He didn't want to go through those feelings again. He knew it couldn't be real, he felt something tampering with his mind, it all had to be an illusion. He broke free of it, fending of whatever was in his mind. He opened his eyes again. Seeing the forest again made him even somewhat happy.

Barthol still couldn't move. His pain from the wounds, the poison, the gravity, none of them seemed to cease. He had to use his last resort if he were to beat his enemy. He had sworn to use it only in the greatest of difficulties. Already using the technique could kill him, but he was dead if he didn't anyway. He knew he had only used about ten percent of his strength to slay the last creature, but he had to go all out for this one. He started to channel his energy. It put great strain on his body, hurting more than any cut ever could.

He felt the creature closing in from the back, and this time he was fast enough to block the blow. It attacked again, pushing Barthol back step by step, and even though he was able to block the blows with ease, he couldn't find a way to counterattack. They exchanged blows with immense speed. Both of them seemed to possess the strength and speed of a dozen men. Each time Its claws and his sword met, a burst of energy broke free. Suddenly Barthol jumped a few feet back and then jumped at It, thrusting his sword out like a spear. All of this happened in only a second, but the creature was able to jump to the side. It kicked Barthol in the stomach, rocketing him towards the sky and then jumped to follow. He saw It passing and was swift enough to block the blow coming from above, but the impact still sent him crashing to the ground, cratering the ground in a ten feet radius.

Barthol threw up blood when he tried to stand up. All the wounds and poison had taken its toll. But he had no time to recover, he knew that taking down that creature would be the last thing he ever did. He had felt the presence of many and more throughout the forest, so there was no escape for him, not in that condition. He saw the creature coming from the sky like an arrow. He jumped aside and slashed at it. This time the hit was a success, it left a deep wound on Its chest. That only seemed to make the creature fiercer.

He jumped at It once more, identically to the first try. Again It jumped to the side, trying the same trick as before, but Barthol anticipated it and struck Its leg to the ground with his sword. He then put down both legs and jumped as hard as he could, all the time holding on to the pommel of his sword with both hands. The creature tried to block the sword with both hands but failed in the attempt. The sword was not to be stopped, it cut of Its claws and cut it open from toe to throat. Upon landing, Barthol felt weak and numb, he was about to fall but managed to stick his sword in the ground for balance All of his energy reserves were used up. He was too feeble to fight the poison and wounds any longer. He crumbled to the ground beside his sword, never letting go of it. His last thoughts were of his glory days in the service of Captain Komamur.

Barthol had been absent for an hour when his crew started feeling uneasy. They all had the same feeling, some kind of telepathy that let them know that their captain met his end.

None of them would believe it. They had to go and check for themselves. They remembered their orders, but what good did obeying them do if the one who gave them wasn't among the living no longer.

They were at the entrance of the forest when they felt the presence of Barthol. A ghost appeared in front of them. It was him. He admitted defeat by the hands of the creatures that inhabited The Forest of Nightmares, but denied access for further investigation. He told them to go live the lives they had always desired, to be with their wives and children if they had any. His only wish was for them to spread the word that no one is to enter this forest, not at any cost.

So the ghost of Barthol lives on in the forest, warning everyone who has either not heard of the warning or has decided to ignore it. His spirit trapped in the forest for as long his sword remains in the grounds of The Forest of Nightmares.