The Bone Fletcher – Part One

The night was hot and heavy as smoke rose across the treetops. The thousand-league woods of The Hoven, once filled with rich flora and fauna, was now filled instead with the stench of death and traces of battle.

At the edge of the Hoven Forest stood a military outpost. Before, it had been a simple checkpoint before entry into the Hoven lands. But ever since the demon Maraxiform had invaded, it had been heavily fortified with wooden barricades, watchtowers and ballistae. The outpost had seen its fair share of battle; the ramparts were singed from the demon army's flames, and many of its defenders lay dead or dying on top of its walls. But still, it had repelled the demonic invasion, day after day.

That day had been no different. The siege on the outpost grew only fiercer and more intense as the days had gone by, with the demons throwing themselves at the human soldiers with reckless abandon. They seemed to care little for their lives, and while they mostly comprised of lesser demons, their sheer number made them difficult to fight without taking casualties. Slowly but surely, the battle was taking its toll on the defenders.

Knight-Commander Erik knew this very well. He stood in his office, high up in one of the watch-towers, gazing over the remnants of his beloved forest, considering his options. His men's morale was low; despite their early victories, there seemed no end to the otherworldly invaders. Every day brought the death toll higher, and the desertion among his ranks had shaved off nearly a tenth of his forces. The stalemate was breaking, and not in their favor.

"Sir." A muffled voice came through the door, accompanied by a knock. Reluctantly, the Knight-Commander turned and gave voice to his assent. The door swung open, admitting a man who looked to be on more than thirty. His deceptively boyish face was illuminated by the small candle he carried, and his black eyes glinted from the candlelight even from under his green hood. Behind him slung a simple bow, but the accompanying quiver was empty. Erik nodded at the soldier who remained at the door, and the door closed softly behind the hooded man.

"Clint." Erik acknowledged. Gesturing for him to sit down, Erik seated himself at the small work-table that was the room's only furniture, apart from two chairs. Setting his candle down on the table, Clint dropped unceremoniously into his seat and pushed back his hood, revealing his cropped blond hair.

"You called, Brother?"

A moment of silence ensued, as Erik weighed his words carefully in his mind. Clint shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unsure of what his brother had to say. Finally, Erik spoke.

"Clint. How fares your squad?"

Not quite the question he had expected, Clint's eyes widened fractionally. Then again, he wasn't quite sure what he was expecting when he had been called into this room either. He cleared his throat. "Better than most, but it's not easy, Erik. Our sergeant caught an arrow through the eye yesterday-"

"What? Why was I not informed?" Erik interrupted. Clint only shrugged. "What would have been the point? We both know there's no one left to replace him. We made do with what we could. So far, I've been stepping up in command. The boys listen to me well enough."

The superior officer frowned, but he couldn't fault his brother. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and many of the talented officers had already been lost. Clint was right; there would have been no one to replace his officer. He didn't like it, but Clint was only doing what he had to do.

"Well, what's all this about, brother? Surely you didn't call me in to check on my squad's status. That's favouritism, you know." Clint's voice was teasing. Erik shook his head.

"No. I called you in because…" Here, the words stuck in his throat. Rising, Erik went to stand by the window once again, motioning his brother to join him. The two men stood, gazing out over the broken forest.

"Look at that, little brother. Our forest, our home. Where we spent all of our youth."

"Yeah. Good times, those. Remember the time when I got so hungry I just ate a random mushroom I found, and literally took a crap in my pants five minutes later? Ma was furious!" The two men laughed quietly. Erik was the first to quieten.

"Yes, little brother. We've had some good times. But now… look at it. Look what the foul demon has wrought, has done to our forest." He nearly choked on the words. In anger, he balled his gauntleted fist and punched the wall with a heavy thud.

"Whoa there. You'll bring the thing crashing down on us."

Sighing, Erik let his hand fall. "We're losing, Clint. This fight… it's taken more of a toll on Hoven than you realize. We might not fall tomorrow, or the day after. But soon, this outpost will be overrun. And nothing will be left between us and the castle town."

"Surely it's not that bad. I mean, we won today, didn't we?" Something in Clint's words betrayed his lie; Erik knew his sibling was trying to convince himself as much as refute his own words. But the truth was different, and far crueller.

"No, Clint. Every day, we lose more of our men. Our supplies run lower, and the castle is finding it increasingly harder to supply us with food and weapons. Every night, I have my men scouring our dead for enemy arrows to use, and every night we turn up with less and less of them. Unless something changes, we will be defeated."

"Something… like what?"

At this, Erik turned and faced his brother squarely. "Clint… I have a mission for you."


Hours before dawn, the Knight-Commander stood at the north gate, waiting. He was dressed in his full suit of armor, bearing the Hoven royal crest of the Mage-King. The two gate guards shifted restlessly beside him, wondering what was going on, but Erik maintained his vigil silently.

Eventually, the crunching of boots came resounding through the night. Not long later, Clint and his men came into view. Erik sized them up in his mind; including Clint, they were five.

The full squad.

Three of them were in chain mail and carried short swords, while one of them was in full plate mail and had a broadsword strapped to his back. Clint himself wore his green hood over his chain mail, his bow still slung across his back.

As the men came to a stop in front of him, Erik removed his helmet. He locked eyes with each and every one of these men, these brave souls who had stepped up to the impossible task he had lain before them. Had they opted to leave the squad in face of these overwhelming odds, none would have blamed them. But here they stood, all of them together, and Erik could only thank the stars that Clint had found such true brothers-in-arms to stand with him.

Finally, his gaze came to rest on his brother. Clint grinned at him, a nervous grin that did nothing to hide the apprehension behind it. Erik could not help himself; he pulled his brother into a rough embrace. Without reservation, Clint gave him a bear hug of his own.

"Godspeed, my brother." Erik whispered. Clint nodded, not trusting himself to speak, not trusting his tears. In all probability, this was the last time they would ever see each other again.

As the two men separated, the Knight-Commander put his helmet back on. There were no words he could offer to them; these were men who were ready to give their life for their kingdom. Anything he said felt empty at this point

Clint raised his hand, and motioned for the rest to follow. Boots crunched on gravel as they trooped past their superior officer. As they left the relative safety of the outpost, the Knight-Commander raised his hand to his brow in salute.

Long after the men had vanished into the dark forest, Erik made to leave for his own duties. But before he left, he heard one of the guards ask, "Sir, where are they going?"

Without turning, he answered with a heavy heart, "To hunt the demon Maraxiform, and to save us all."


No words were exchanged as the group made their way through the forest. They tried for as much stealth as was possible; if they made too much noise, they risked bringing the entire demon army down on their heads.

The going was slow. Jonah took point; as an ex-ranger, he had the most experience with tracking. Clint followed closely behind, his bow out and ready. The plan was for Clint to dispatch of any lone demons that Jonah spotted, and should they encounter groups they could not handle, Clint as party leader could easily disseminate the information backwards. Kale and Rex flanked him, one on either side, to keep a lookout on both ends, while Mesca with his heavy armour would guard them from any surprise ambushes from behind.

Erik's scouts had indicated that the demon's lair was a cave far north of the outpost. They had only discovered it by sheer luck, or rather sheer misfortune – by overhearing a group of demons emerging from its mouth. They had been discovered, and only one had managed to make it back alive. The poor man had died not long after delivering his message.

Amazingly, the journey toward the cave was uneventful. Granted, the party had opted to take a more roundabout route, circling towards the north-east before doubling back to approach it from the east side, but Clint had anticipated meeting at least two groups that they would have needed to run away from. Yet, hours after their foray into the forest, the group had not only managed to make its way to the cave entrance, but they had managed to avoid every single demon patrol till that point as well.

As Clint and his party crouched in front of the vast entrance, well-covered by the dense vegetation, they strained their eyes and ears for signs of demonic activity. A full hour passed, but as far as any of them could tell the place had no demons in the immediate surroundings.

"Y' sure this is the place?" Whispered Jonah. Clint shrugged noncommittally, but in his mind he knew it was. Clearly, the cave was not naturally formed. It looked like it had sprouted out from the earth itself; a few trees lay uprooted on the ground by its side, suggesting that they had been pushed completely aside when the cave had emerged. The entrance was enormous, but the walls were surprisingly thin. It looked like a demon's mouth, yawning from the ground and awaiting its next meal. Daylight was just breaking, and from what little light they had they could tell that the pathway wound downwards into the earth itself.

"Well boys, only one way to find out. Last chance for backing out?" Clint looked around, but the question only earned him a smack on the head from Kale.

"Don't be stupid."

"Well, had to ask. Let's go." With that, Clint signaled for Jonah to move. Cautiously, with weapons at the ready, the party ventured into the cave.


Daylight broke over the forest, and with it brought another day's worth of fighting. Erik was tired of battle. Day after day he had donned his armor, wondering if it was to be his last day wearing it. But today was different. Today, he wondered instead of his brother, and hoped that he had not sent them all to their deaths on a fool's errand.

"Sir. The men are ready."

"Thank you, soldier. May today be the last of our battles, as well."

"Here's hoping, sir." The soldier saluted, and Erik returned the gesture. But he knew the words were halfhearted and empty, that the soldier did not believe it in the slightest. Looking closely, he saw that the soldier was young, possibly not even twenty. That he had stayed on in the force was a credit to his loyalty and patriotism. Erik placed a hand on the young soldier's shoulder. "What's your name, son?"

"Tash, sir."

"Well, Tash, hold on to that hope. Today, things will change. You'll see." He meant for the words to be reassuring, and it lightened his heart to see the youngster's face change.

"You have a plan to turn things around, Sir?" Tash's voice was hopeful. His commander had a plan, he believed.

"We're not completely out of this fight yet, son. That's all I can say right now." Truthfully, Erik did not wish to disclose the details of Clint's mission to the men. If he failed, the morale of the men would be broken beyond repair. As their officer, Erik had to avoid that at all costs.

"Sir." Tash saluted one last time, then left to complete his other messenger duties. Erik made his way through the men, heading towards the meeting room, when suddenly a trumpet blaring from the western gate stopped him in his tracks.

"Damn! They get earlier and earlier by the day. To arms, men!" He made to place his helmet on his head, but then a trumpet from the north sounded, followed by one from the south. Before he could register what was happening, a roar erupted seemingly from everywhere, an otherworldly sound that had every person in the walls shivering.

Erik broke into a run. The man pushed and shoved his way through his immobile men, and climbed the steps to the top of the barricade two steps at a time. When he reached the top, the sight that greeted him froze his blood solid.

As far as the eye could see, stretching deep into the forest and in every direction save the mountain that the outpost was guarding, demons of every ilk and kind stood at the ready, gnashing their teeth and leering at the defenders. It was as if every single demon left had gathered itself for one final assault.

"No…"

An archer to Erik's left began to tremble. He let his bow fall, and he would have followed it as well had Erik not caught him by the front of his chain mail shirt.

"Get it together, soldier!" Erik's voice was shaking, but he forced some semblance of command into it. He hoped it would be enough. "All messengers! Send word to the captains. This is the day! If we can repel this last assault, we will have broken the enemy. All of you, take up your arms!" The last he directed to all those within earshot.

"We will not get through this unscathed, and many will fall this day. But if they outnumber us ten to one, then you must simply slay ten demons before you are allowed to fall. If they outnumber us fifty to one, then you must simply slay fifty! Our wives, children, parents, all that we hold dear and cherish are at stake. For our loved ones, for our kingdom, we will not fail! For Hoven!"

"FOR HOVEN!" Came the echo. As if jolted out of a nightmare, each soldier began to move. Knights barked orders to squires, and the common soldiers found their individual squads. Officers rounded up their men as quickly as possible, and messengers were dispatched swiftly to the other gates. Their preparations were not yet complete when a guttural booming came from the forest, a sound no man could replicate. The demon army surged forward, roaring as they went.


Author's Note: I suck at inspirational speeches.