Note I made a minor change to the previous chapter, which was making the weapon of the revealed ogre creature a dark metal great sword rather than a glaive. I also gave him red vambraces over his forearms.
The Dryad of the Vanderwood
"And in the short time you have left on this plane," the blue skinned, hulking, ogrish creature said, looking down at Kuhl and his companions - grin revealing a set of wickedly sharp teeth. "You're going to wish to all the Nine Hells you never went looking for one, little, pathetic, fungi grubbing missing gnome. Is that little cask under your arm full of alcohol? It should go very nicely with your liver."
The grin and mocking expression became a surprised wince as Dawnbringer blazed to life in Kuhl's grip, her eye searing radiance scattering darkness to the edges of the clearing. The half-elf moved to unsling his shield, then realized he still carried the little cask of mead. He heaved it at the blue-skinned monster as an impromptu missile. His aim was true, but the cask only bounced off his target's bare chest to crash to the ground, there exploding with a wood splintering crack. Mead spewed forth in a spray that showered the rough spun gray trousers of the ogre creature. A few droplets even reached Kuhl. Arm now free, the half-elf started to loosen the band securing his shield on his back.
"Not enough time!" Dawnbringer shrieked in his mind.
It was true. The ogre-kin recovered from surprise at the flaring appearance of the sword of light and stalked forward - dark metal greatsword raised and wreathed in crackling dark energy. It took all the half-elf's training to calm his nerves enough to whisper a prayer as he back-pedaled. The power of Sehanine Moonbow channeled out of him as he stamped on the ground. Spectral vines flowed up from the impression of his booted foot, moonbeams given weight and substance. They writhed up and entangled the legs of his oncoming attacker, restraining him.
"The dryad tried this too," the creature laughed.
A tug from each thickly muscled leg, and he was free, conjured vines bursting asunder in flashes of pale light. But Kuhl had bought enough time to shrug his loosened shield off his back and slip his arm through the straps. He raised it defensively - just in time.
The shuddering strength of the ogre-kin's two-handed blow sent the half-elf stumbling back, the clang of the dark metal greatsword against his shield ringing in his ears. Dawnbringer sparked and hummed as he ducked and parried the next swing, the dark blade crackling with dark lightning in answer. Some part of him, a part separate from the fighting self, grimly observed that this time he would not be the stronger swordsman.
Far weaker in fact.
"Fight like Aravae." Dawnbringer advised in his mind. "Use her tactics."
Good advice. Basically, be all nimble quickness. Unfortunately, easier said than done.
Motion out of the corner of his eye caught his attention - the three scarecrows were advancing further into the clearing. Surash retreated away from them as he rifled through the pockets of his great coat. The twang of Sky's hand crossbow sounded, and the bolt thwacked into ogre-kin flesh, sprouting like a downward slanting flower between his ribs.
Kuhl took advantage of the opening the injury provided. He darted forward. Dawnbringer's blade buzzed and flared brighter as his slash opened up a diagonal cut across the monster's chest and, after blocking another arm numbing blow with his shield, he jabbed the point of his sword of light into blue flesh before he danced back. Mental prayers accompanied both strikes to release a portion of the well of gifted divine energy he held within to further heighten Dawnbringer's burning radiance.
The half-elf's mind had entered the state of combat awareness where all thought was tactical in nature. The best path to victory after these telling blows was now clear - fight defensive and let blood loss weaken their opponent.
But something was wrong. The sharp toothed grin never faltered nor did the yellow pupiled eyes lose their glint of amusement.
"Shiny sword," the ogre-kin said, as it ripped free Sky's bolt and tossed it aside. "I am used to handling something bigger, but it may have its uses."
"This creature seems to possess innate healing," Dawnbringer warned telepathically.
As they watched, the flow of dark blood from the ogre-kin stopped and blue skin grew, knitting wounds closed.
"Something strange is going on here," Surash called out.
Kuhl spared a quick glance away from their hulking opponent. A patch of vines had mysteriously appeared in the clearing, weaving through the legs of the scarecrows and entangling them. The constructs of stick and sack cloth pulled and jerked but were trapped.
"You hope these three will be your saviors?" The ogre-kin scoffed, yellow gaze hunting for his quarry in the surrounding trees. "They're like you. Already dead. Slaughtered animals not able to tell twitching death throes from life."
His muscle-bound form faded from sight.
"He's an oni," Surash said.
"Is that bad?" the half-elf asked, eyes narrowing as he searched the clearing.
"Very, very bad," the alchemist said. "He just went invisible."
Surash agitated a glass vial, then unstoppered it and flung the contents in an arching spray over the trapped scarecrows. The liquid erupted as it came into contact with the air and the flaming liquid fell onto the stick constructs. They burned and writhed, gashed mouths in their sackcloth faces opening wide in a silent scream as fire grew and leapt up their bodies.
Kuhl did his best to ignore the crackle of the flames as well as the thrashing attempts of the dying scarecrows to free themselves. He listened, while circling in front of Sky to put himself in between her and the last place they'd seen the oni. Despite all the straining of his ears, it was his nose that warned him first. The whiff of spilled mead told him the ogre-kin was near. He raised his shield and dodged to the side. Metal scraped on metal as the brass-colored alloy of his shield met the dark greatsword and a massive form winked into sight in front of him.
Pain erupted from the half-elf's side as the only partially deflected thrust stabbed into him. A numbing, coldness spread, seeming to suck life right out of him as he back off the blade. Sky loosed her crossbow and her missile found its mark. Piercing into oni's shoulder.
As before, he pulled the bolt free, then again faded from view. Kuhl lunged forward, Dawnbringer leading the way, but his sword point found nothing, and a tossed vial sailed by his ear, narrowly missing him. His eyes followed its path till it crashed and broke on the ground, releasing an acrid bubbling and smoking liquid. A glance at Surash yielded a guilty, apologetic look.
"Those little pin pricks hurt far more than they should," the ogre-kin's gruff voice came from off to the left.
The snick of Sky reloading was the only answer the tabaxi gave, tail lashing and golden eyes focused as she aimed her crossbow in the direction of the voice.
"And now I have to do another favor for a hag to construct more scarecrows," the gruff voice sounded again.
The oni was fast and moved silently. They all refocused their attention on another area of the clearing and Sky sent a bolt sailing in this new direction. It whispered its passage into the surrounding trees without striking anything. The tabaxi growled in frustration as she pulled free another bolt from the sheath at her hip.
"This contract has been a disaster," the ogre-kin said. "Never take a dryad target."
Kuhl nearly jumped in surprise from the nearness of the voice. He slashed in a wide arc, but his questing blade only whistled and hummed through the air. The ripping pain in his side from the effort reminded him of his injury, but he dared not lower his shield to heal himself.
"He is toying with us," Dawnbringer said.
The half-elf feared she was right. Invisible and silent, their enemy could strike any one of them at any time while they could only flail away and hope they got lucky. But the paladin had some protective magic that might help. He glanced between Sky and Surash. So far, other than himself, the tabaxi had been the only one to injure the oni. Kuhl concentrated and a shimmering barrier settled over Sky just as she performed a tumbling dodge to her left.
The ogre-kin appeared in a rushing pursuit of the tabaxi, stabbing after her with his greatsword, dark energies crackling. The half-elf couldn't be sure, but it seemed the barrier he'd conjured just turned the blade enough to keep it from finding Sky's flesh.
The half-elf launched himself at the oni's back. With surprising nimbleness, the creature quickly turned. Dawnbringer sparked as she was parried aside by the oni's dark metal sword and sudden strain on the injury to the paladin's side brought a grimace and a grunt of pain from him. Then the ogre-kin flew back, feet not touching the ground, and out of harm's way.
"Quick little thing, aren't you?" the creature said, looking at Sky.
His gaze suddenly shifted, and he stared as another entered the clearing. Firelight from the burning remains of the scarecrows as well as Dawnbringer's radiance played off her slight fey form, her brown skin, and off the green hair that framed her face like the leaves of a tree.
The Dryad of the Vanderwood.
"So, you finally show yourself," the oni said. "Hoping to sacrifice yourself for them? Pity you didn't think the bear or stag was worth saving. Some defender of the forest you are. So, the stories are true. A dryad catches a glimpse of a handsome face and becomes a fool. So, why didn't it work for me when I shifted into a shape designed to draw you out? Nevermind. It's a deal. Once you're dead I will let these others go free."
The creature didn't put any effort in disguising the lie in his words. The ogre-kin's telling tone and smile revealed the killing of the companions would immediately follow the death of his contracted target.
The dryad gave a feral, wild return smile in response and her almond shaped eyes narrowed to slits. Then she charged forward, sprinting across the clearing with a wailing scream that seemed to let out a flood of pent-up fury.
The oni took a step back in surprise, then his yellow eyes glinted in amusement, and he set the point of his greatsword to meet her oncoming rush.
She didn't try to avoid it. Instead leaping onto the blade and letting it skewer her through the chest. The momentum of her run and jump carried her all the way to the hilt. Dark lightning played along the blade sticking out her back as she reached and secured a double handed grip on one of the scarlet vambraces on the ogre-kin's wrist. A crackling sounded through the clearing as bark thickened over the dryad's skin, encasing her in a hard, armor-like, shell.
"K-e-e-l h-e-m!" she wheezed out in Sylvan, though the half-elf could barely make out the rasping words.
She coughed out viscous green fluid as vines snaked out of the darkened tree line of the clearing from behind the oni, entangling the monstrous creature.
Sky was the first to react. She darted forward, crossbow aimed, loosing as soon as she had a clear shot, sending a bolt into the oni's thick neck. He gave a gurgling howl, perhaps in pain, but probably mostly in fear and surprise. A thrashing burst of strength freed him from the vines, but he was held still long enough for Surash to make his throw. The glass vial broke, and liquid splashed across the side of the ogre-kin's face. Flesh bubbled and dissolved as acrid vapor smoked into the night air and the oni screamed again.
This time most assuredly in pain and the dryad joined him with a gasping scream of her own from where she was transfixed on his blade. Together they formed a cacophony of agony, one a liquid filled sputter from the bolt through his neck and the other with hissing, green flecked spraying breath from a sword through her chest. Somehow the dryad mustered enough will to keep herself upright and stare at the ruin of the ogre-kin's face as she yelled her defiance.
With an awe-inspiring display of might, the oni hoisted the dryad skyward. Once, twice, he shook her, trying to free his sword. Through the combination of the dryad's grip on his vambrace and the bark skin sealing his blade tight, she held on. Her face, already a mask of pain, twisted in further misery and she went silent. All the while dark energies wreathed from the blade out her back.
Letting go of the hilt of his sword, the oni finally freed himself with a shove against his assailant. The dryad and weapon flew back, falling to thud in a heap on the clearing floor. But now, bereft of his greatsword, the creature had no blade to parry or threaten the oncoming Kuhl.
Yellow eyes widening, the ogre-kin faded from sight, raising one of the red metaled vambraces to try and block. Neither defensive measure saved him.
The blade of light cleaved into unseen muscled flesh and the half-elf paladin released a flare of stored divine power to accompany the blow. The monstrous creature blinked back into view as he fell, crumpling to his knees.
"Wait!" the oni gurgled, lifting a warding hand.
Whether the creature planned to beg or barter for his life, Kuhl would never know. Perhaps if the paladin was uninjured, he could have stayed his already descending blow. Perhaps if the oni wasn't an admitted contract killer who bragged of murdering the gnome Kipper and impersonating him the half-elf would have been willing to try. Perhaps if the clearing didn't hold the body of a frozen great stag, guilty of only trying to defend his dryad mistress and perhaps if that same dryad didn't lay dead or dying on the ground, Kuhl would have been inclined to mercy.
But he was injured, the oni was a contract killer, had bragged about killing poor Kipper, and had left the frozen body of a stag and a dying dryad in the wake of his actions. So, the half-elf was not inclined to mercy.
His blow continued its path of descent and blade light split the ogre-kin's skull. As before, the paladin added magical energy and the creature's head burst apart in a spray of blood, bone, and brain matter.
For a moment Kuhl stood in place, motionless and staring, panting in the stink of slaughtered death as well as smoke from the remains of the scarecrow consuming fire. Then the corpse of the oni tilted back to drop like a felled tree to the ground.
The half-elf blinked a few times and wiped gore from his face with his sleeve in response to the finality of the falling body.
"Kuhl," Sky said, voice urgent.
He turned and saw the tabaxi kneeling over the fallen dryad who lay on her side, greatsword still impaled through her and dark energies still flickering along the blade. Extinguishing Dawnbringer and sheathing her and dropping his shield, he moved forward and joined his friend at dryad on the ground. Bark skin sloughed off the lying figure as he too knelt. Kuhl hesitated, just for an instant, before he grasped the hilt of the sword of black metal. The stylized pommel and guard were crafted into the likeness of a great winged demon wielding a flaming whip and sword. Rather than an expression of snarling ferocity, however, the image bore a face twisted in pain, as if grievously injured.
Strange.
The hilt was cold to the touch, even through the worn leather wrapped around it, but there was nothing else. No dark presence invaded the half-elf's consciousness, as he had partly feared.
"I would have protected you," Dawnbringer said in his mind.
With a tugging pull, he yanked the weapon free, having to scoot back away from the dryad due to the length of the sword. Images of other dying and screaming demons, or those already slain, were engraved along the blade.
Stranger still.
But not anything to contemplate now. Tossing the greatsword aside, Kuhl moved forward to the dryad and placed his hands over the gaping wound in her chest. Healing magic poured out of him. All that he had.
Her eyes fluttered open, and pupils of chestnut met his own gaze. She smiled through lips coated with what he assumed was green dryad blood.
"Too much of my fey spirit is spent, half-elf," she said, weakly. "You do nothing more than ease my passing."
She drew in a breath, gathering strength before speaking again.
"Do not look sad. It is enough and I am grateful for it."
"I have a potion that may help," Surash said.
The dryad stared at the proffered flask for a moment before shaking her head slightly.
"No," she said. "It will not help. See to your friend's wound. If I could get to my oak…"
She trailed off, closing her eyes and again mustered her ebbing strength.
"Where is it?" Kuhl said, gathering her in his arms. "I will carry you there."
His injured side protested with a sharp pain as he lifted her and blood flowed more freely out of the wound, but he ignored the discomfort.
"Too far."
This time the dryad only managed two words before her strength failed her. She was fading fast.
"Drink the potion," the half-elf begged. "It will give you enough healing to allow us to make it to your oak."
No response, just shallow breathing to show she still lived. Her reluctance to try something that might save her life was confusing, until Kuhl remembered the life-draining feeling he'd felt when the oni's greatsword had stabbed into him. It injured the will and the spirit as well as the body. He'd only felt its wounding touch for a moment while the dryad was impaled far far longer.
"Surash," Kuhl said. "Force it down her throat."
The dryad eyes snapped open as the alchemist approached. She waved the potion away, knocking the flask out of his hand. With sudden vigor she grasped the half-elf's doublet in a frenzied grasp, pulling up her face so it was mere inches from his own.
"What he said was not true," she hissed, breath smelling with a sappy sweetness. "I would never let the woodland creatures of my forest sacrifice themselves for me. But they would not ignore the invasion of such a destructive presence into our forest, their territory, that also threatened me, no matter what I wished. You must believe me."
"I believe you," the half-elf said.
This seemed to relax her and she slumped back into his arms.
"But neither would I sacrifice myself unless he would die as well," she sighed.
"He is dead," Kuhl said. "But you don't need to die. Drink the potion and let it do its work."
"There is a woman who lives in the great city on the cliff," she said, ignoring him. "Or used to live there. Silverhand."
"She lives there still," the half-elf said, nodding. "She is the Open Lord."
"Tell her to protect my forest," the dryad breathed.
Surash had now retrieved the fallen potion and unstopped the flask. He bent over the fey being in Kuhl's arms. Pulling down on her chin and tilting back her head, he poured from the flask into her mouth.
Heartbeats passed as they watched and waited. But nothing happened, not even the muscles of the throat working to swallow. Liquid, the potentially lifesaving potion, leaked past her unresponsive lips to drip onto the dirt and scrub vegetation on the ground of the clearing. The half-elf felt the body in his arms grow cooler with each passing moment and also stiffen, becoming more wood like.
"What is happening?" Sky asked, tail lashing, golden gaze worried. "Why isn't she swallowing it?"
The half-elf didn't answer, didn't have the willingness to give voice to the seeping dread realization that no amount of hoping otherwise would change - the Dryad of the Vanderwood was dead.
This is again the result of a marathon of typing on my phone during a work trip. I hope it is okay.
As I think I mentioned in my notes, when I looked up lore on oni in DnD, I only came up with one 'famous' one. This was Qesnef who is the guardian of Black Razor in the White Plume Mountain module. I was so tempted to try and work him in...but I decided against it.
But I still wanted to work in some lore. So I found a sword in Forgotten Realms (and the red vambraces are related to it) that were kind of fun to work in. They really don't matter too much, but I plan on giving their back story. They are mostly there for flavor, but who knows, they might become important.