Hey, sorry all for the big delay for this chapter, I've just been very, very busy with work, as I essentially work two jobs - my daytime job, and a freelance gig on the side, and this month has just been very busy, and I've been doing something like 12 hours of work pretty much all days, except for my off days...so that's kinda my excuse for delaying a whole month.
Anyways, enjoy this chapter, and as always please do leave reviews with suggestions or anything you'd love to note - those help me guide the series better!
Elrid's brows furrowed in frustration as he listened to Enconeg's persistence in joining him on the perilous journey to Dellach. The fisherman's casual demeanor grated on Elrid's nerves, and he couldn't help but voice his concerns.
"No, there is no way I'm bringing you with me to this place. Giant brutes, shamans, and tribes are lurking around every corner. You don't strike me as the 'fighter' type," Elrid exclaimed, his worries pouring out. He paced back and forth in the small cottage, trying to make Enconeg understand the dangers that lay ahead.
"And what do you expect to happen once we get to this Dellach place? Do you think we can just waltz in, hoping we won't be eaten alive by those monstrous giants?" He threw his arms up in frustration, the weight of the impending mission heavy on his shoulders.
Enconeg simply chewed on the end of his pipe, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He took a leisurely puff before responding. "Oh, and 'ow do ya fink I came to know about all these dangers, lad? Ya think I spun a fancy tale out of thin air? These tales take more than just a vivid imagination; they require a fair share of scars to give 'em taste." The fisherman sat back down on the table, his arms crossed and a knowing smile on his lips as he recounted his own experiences.
"When I was just a nipper, around 12 years old, I ran away from 'ome. I 'ad enough of this place and thought I'd explore the Kingdom, see wot it 'ad to offer," Enconeg began, his voice tinged with nostalgia.
"But let me tell ya, it wasn't all smooth sailin'. On the very first night of me escapade, some rascal stole me coin pouch. I 'ad to spend the night in the open or work in an inn's kitchen just to get a roof over me 'ead. And let me tell ya, it wasn't a fancy room's roof – no, I was mostly sleepin' in stables with the 'orses." He gestured with his hand to emphasize his point, while Elrid listened intently, his initial resistance slowly giving way to curiosity.
Enconeg continued, "Of course, there were good people too, folks I still call friends to this day. But I learned somethin' vital durin' that time – the world out there is full of surprises, and ya 'ave to be adaptable to survive." He punctuated his statement by stabbing his finger on the table, looking directly at Elrid, searching for a spark of understanding in the young Seeker's eyes.
"Anyways," Enconeg resumed, his tone softening, "I've lived in these swamps me whole life. I know this place like the back of me 'and. You won't last two hours without me guidance because of yer cockiness," he added, a hint of concern evident in his voice.
Elrid let a small sigh escape his lips as he closed his eyes, his inner turmoil now giving way to a sense of resignation. Enconeg's compelling arguments had chipped away at his stubborn resistance. "He's right," Elrid thought, "I might not even be able to make it to Dellach without him, let alone return."
He opened his eyes once again and turned to face Enconeg, nodding with reluctant acceptance. "All right, we will do it your way - we will take a good night's rest tonight, and...you'll lead me to this place tomorrow."
The old hunter's weathered face lit up with satisfaction, a triumphant smile gracing his lips. "I'd 'ave it no other way, lad. Now let me show you where you're goin' to stay..." Enconeg waved to his now younger partner in tow, guiding him towards his humble quarters.
Inside, the small cottage was dimly lit by a flickering lantern, casting dancing shadows on the wooden walls. The aroma of the fish stew from earlier still lingered in the air, blending with the soothing scent of burning tobacco from Enconeg's pipe. The fisherman gestured towards a neatly arranged bedroll in the corner, surrounded by a few possessions he had collected throughout his life.
"Here's where you'll rest your bones, mate. Don't worry, it may not be a fancy inn, but it's cozy enough," Enconeg reassured, a hint of pride evident in his voice. "Now, get yourself some shut-eye. We 'ave a long day ahead of us tomorrow."
With a nod of gratitude, Elrid settled down on the bedroll, feeling the weariness of the day weighing on his shoulders. Despite his initial reservations, he knew that Enconeg's experience and knowledge of the treacherous swamp would be invaluable on their journey.
The fisherman decided to get out of the house, puffing contently on his pipe. The crackling flames and the gentle hum of the swamp outside provided a soothing backdrop to the quiet night. Elrid closed his eyes, his mind filled with thoughts of the daunting quest that awaited him and the mysteries that Dellach held.
The old hunter had been awake for a while, spending the early hours of dawn tending to his chores around the cottage and the yard. As the sun's rays began to pierce through the thick smog that veiled the swamp's forest, Enconeg decided it was time to wake his guest.
"Wakey, wakey! It's mornin', Elrid, and we 'ave to start preparin'," he said with a hint of cheerfulness as he shook the young Seeker awake.
In hindsight, the fisherman should have known better than to startle a paranoid soldier while he slept, but alas, as they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty. As Enconeg shook him awake, Elrid practically jolted upright from his bedroll, and in the process, accidentally headbutted his fellow traveler.
"Ow!" they both exclaimed simultaneously, each grasping their throbbing heads. Elrid, flustered from the sudden awakening, stumbled back and fell back down, while Enconeg growled with irritation.
"Ugh...For the love of all Faes...couldn't ya 'ave not jumped at me?" Enconeg mockingly chided Elrid with a tinge of irritation.
"Well, I didn't expect to be shook awake like it was the end of the world. I thought you'd know this quite well. After all, I thought you knew what it's like to sleep out in the open where anything might happen," Elrid retorted, a mix of annoyance and humor in his voice.
"Right...sorry, my bad. Now come on, let's get a quick bite and get ready for our journey," Enconeg replied, brushing off the momentary tension and moving on to practical matters.
Elrid pulled himself up and gathered his few belongings, placing them by the door for easy access when they departed. He then joined Enconeg in preparing breakfast and packing meals for the day ahead. Once they had their supplies ready, they left the cozy cottage behind and stepped out into the cool morning air, the thick fog of the swamp embracing them.
"Before we set off, there's one more thing we need to do. We're goin' to visit the small shack at the end of the bridge. I keep some of me old traveler's gear there. Never thought I'd need 'em again, but best to be prepared," Enconeg explained, leading the way to the squat and small building.
The storage shack was filled with various gardening tools, hanging from hooks and resting against walls. As Enconeg entered, he kneeled down by one of the tables and deftly pulled a small pin embedded in the floor, revealing a hidden door. From within, he extracted a small bundle of items wrapped in cloth. As he unveiled the contents, Elrid's eyes widened with fascination and curiosity.
There, gleaming with an ethereal aura, were a pair of twin daggers, their blades resembling frozen flames in motion. The main part of each dagger had a sharp bend in the middle and an incredibly sharp and menacing edge. On the inner side, there was an additional edge that gave the weapons a fearsome and intimidating appearance.
Elrid couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship of the daggers. They were unlike anything he had seen before, and he could feel the powerful magic emanating from them. "Impressive," he remarked, genuinely impressed by the weapons in his hand.
"Aye, these are the Claws of Astyl. They served me well in me wanderin' days," Enconeg said with a sense of nostalgia in his voice. "And I'm sure they'll be handy for whatever lies ahead."
He put them aside and reached once again into the hole in the ground, where he retrieved some leather armor pieces.
"I event'ally stumbled me way into Camp Star, when I tried to nick some food off from 'em. They were impressed that I could even find 'em, as they prided themselves on bein' well 'idden, and so they decided to bring me along with 'em." Enconeg closed the hidden door and started strapping his armor as he spoke.
"They are like a travellin' clan. A bit on the fanatical side, won't get into that, but they became me family for most of the time that I was out there. They taught me swordsmanship, and 'ow to survive out in the wild...and 'ow to protect meself from other...people, if I ever needed to. They were a pretty wild party though, I've 'ad some of me best memories with 'em. Maybe if we make it back from this, I could join 'em once again..." the old hunter joked, with a faraway look. "Anyways, they left me with these, if I ever needed 'em on me journey. Looks like they are right.."
He finished strapping in, hooking in his daggers on his hips.
"Okay, let's get goin'.
The fisherman, Enconeg, led the way through the treacherous swamplands with a surprising grace and speed despite his age. He weaved through the hidden pathways with the ease of a woodland creature, guiding Elrid with a whisper to avoid snapping twigs and rustling leaves that could betray their presence. Thick foliage obscured their view, but Enconeg seemed to have an uncanny sense of direction, steering them away from potential dangers lurking in the shadows.
At times, they had to wade through murky waters, swimming silently through the swamp to avoid multiple Ettin camps scattered throughout the region. Elrid followed Enconeg's lead, feeling the cold, slimy water seep into his boots and the squelching sensation underfoot. He shivered, both from the chill of the water and the realization that the Ettin were not the only threat in these waters – who knew what other dangers lurked beneath the surface?
As they carefully traversed through the swamp, Enconeg took the opportunity to share more insights about the Ettin and their shamans. "The Ettin shamans are crafty and powerful," he explained in hushed tones. "They weave protective charms imbued wiv ancient magic, markin' their territory. These charms are sensitive to intruders, alertin' the Ettin to any trespassers in their domain. We need to steer clear of those areas if we want to avoid unnecessary confrontations."
Elrid nodded in understanding, grateful for the knowledge. His heart pounded in his chest as they moved deeper into the heart of Ettinmere, realizing that every step could lead them to danger. But he trusted Enconeg, whose experience and familiarity with the swamp were proving invaluable.
The sun climbed higher in the sky, yet its rays struggled to penetrate the thick canopy above, casting eerie shadows on the swamp's murky waters. The air was heavy and damp, filled with the earthy scent of decaying vegetation. The constant chorus of croaking frogs and unseen creatures added to the sense of foreboding that settled over the two travelers.
As they made their way along a particularly narrow and winding path, they spotted an Ettin camp in the distance. Enconeg motioned for Elrid to crouch down behind a tangle of roots, and they watched from their concealed position. The camp was a crude gathering of makeshift huts constructed from branches and vines, with an enormous bonfire in the center.
The Ettin moved about the camp with a mix of grunts and guttural sounds, seemingly engaged in various activities. Some were cooking meat on spits over the crackling flames, while others were fashioning crude weapons from bones and rocks. The sight of their hulking figures and fierce expressions sent a chill down Elrid's spine.
Enconeg leaned closer to Elrid, his voice barely audible above the ambient noises of the swamp. "This is one of the smaller camps," he whispered. "But don't let their size fool ya; Ettin are formidable foes, especially when they gather in numbers."
Elrid nodded solemnly, his eyes scanning the camp for any sign of shamans. He had heard tales of their mystical abilities and feared what havoc they could wreak on intruders.
As they continued on their path, they came across a group of Ettin patrolling the area. Enconeg quickly pulled Elrid into a concealed alcove, the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears. They held their breath as the Ettin passed mere feet away, their massive frames casting dark shadows on the ground.
Elrid marveled at Enconeg's calm and resourcefulness, as he remained completely still and silent. The old hunter's steady presence reassured him.
After the Ettin had moved out of sight, Enconeg signaled to Elrid that it was safe to continue as they plunged deeper and deeper into the swampfields.
As the sun climbed high in the sky, casting dappled shadows upon the swamp, Elrid and Enconeg navigated their way through a series of small islands adorned with ancient stone columns. The moss-covered surfaces were inscribed with intriguing yet indecipherable characters, leaving Elrid inquisitive about their origin.
Curiosity got the better of him, and he approached one of the stone columns, gently wiping away the clinging moss to reveal the mysterious engravings. He turned to Enconeg, eager for any insight the old hunter might have. "Do you know what these things are? What do they say?" Elrid asked, his eyes filled with wonder.
Enconeg stroked his weathered chin, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. "Hmm...not really, kid," he admitted with a hint of regret. "All I know is that these are remnants of the Fae, creatures from an age far older than most of the world. Perhaps your Fateweaver friend would be more familiar with 'em. You could ask him once we find him. Come on now, we're nearin' the main entrance of Dellach – or whatever's left of its ruins."
Together, they ventured around the small islands, treading lightly to avoid disturbing the wildlife or drawing the attention of the Ettin. The swamp's eerie silence was suddenly broken by loud shouts and inhuman growls, accompanied by the unmistakable sounds of a fierce battle.
Both Almain travelers hurried towards the source of the commotion and reached the largest island of the set. There they witnessed Agarth, the skilled Fateweaver, locked in combat with a few ferocious wolves and two massive Ettin brutes armed with crude axes and hammers.
The wolves lunged at Agarth, but his swift reflexes and honed combat skills allowed him to evade their attacks with ease. With a single decisive stroke of his longsword, he dispatched one of the wolves, leaving it lifeless on the ground. However, the other two wolves persisted, launching a coordinated assault.
Seizing the opportunity to aid their companion, Enconeg and Elrid engaged the Ettin brutes from either side. Enconeg brandished his frosted daggers, slipping soundlessly towards the brute on his right. Elrid focused on the brute to his left, gathering energy in his outstretched hand.
The brutes were utterly oblivious to the two men's presence, their attention fixed on the spectacle of Agarth's battle prowess. Enconeg deftly targeted his enemy's weak spot, driving a dagger into the brute's knee, sending him crashing to the ground. The old hunter then nimbly climbed atop the fallen foe, delivering a flurry of stabs that left the creature convulsing in pain. He got to the monster's neck and delivered a finishing blow, riding it down as it gargled, drowning in it's own lifeblood.
Elrid's adversary, still distracted by Enconeg's assault, failed to notice the young Seeker as he unleashed a bolt of lightning, stunning the Ettin brute to his knees. Seizing the opportunity, Elrid darted forward, aiming to strike the creature's heart.
However, fortune was a fickle companion that day. The remaining Ettin brute swung a massive arm, swatting him aside like an insect. He was sent flying through the air, hitting the ground with a resounding thud and tumbling across the swampy terrain.
For a moment, the world blurred around Elrid as he struggled to regain his bearings. The ground beneath him trembled from the impact, and he pushed himself up, wincing at the aches that coursed through his body.
He noticed in the distance that Agarth was finishing off the last wolf, but had a gruesome wound on his left shoulder, while Enconeg started towards the second Ettin to try and finish what Elrid failed to.
The Ettin brute sneered down at the old hunter, raising it's crude weapon for the final strike. Panic surged through the young Seeker's veins as he desperately searched for a way to help, but he was too far, and too stunned to summon his ability. His hand instinctively reached for the sword at his side.
Enconeg, his face a mask of determination, sprinted towards the second Ettin brute with astonishing speed and agility. The old hunter leaped onto the creature's back, aiming for its vulnerable neck. With a fierce battle cry, Enconeg drove both daggers deep into the Ettin's thick flesh, causing the monster to roar in pain and fury.
Elrid scrambled to his feet. His body still ached from the earlier assault, but fear and adrenaline fueled his determination. He knew he couldn't let Enconeg face this monstrous foe alone.
He drew his longsword, charging towards the Ettin brute with newfound resolve. He spotted a vulnerable spot on the creature's leg and lunged, driving his blade into the back of its knee, just as Enconeg had done earlier. The Ettin bellowed in agony, stumbling to the ground with a thunderous crash with the fisherman on top of it still.
Seeing an opportunity, Elrid quickly moved to the brute's side, angling his sword for a killing blow to the heart. But the brute's instincts kicked in, and with a swift backhand, it sent Elrid flying once again, this time crashing into the nearby undergrowth.
Gasping for breath and battered by the impact, Elrid tried to collect himself as he watched Enconeg deftly dodge the brute's retaliation. The old hunter moved with a finesse that belied his age, striking at the creature's weak points with relentless precision.
Agarth, now finished with the last wolf, rushed to Elrid's side. "You all right, lad?" he asked, concern etched on his face.
Elrid nodded, wincing as he got back up on his feet. "I'll be fine. Thanks for the save," he said with gratitude, turning his attention back to the ongoing battle.
Together, Agarth and Elrid joined Enconeg in their relentless assault against the wounded Ettin brute. They worked as a team, exploiting the creature's openings and dealing swift, coordinated attacks. The brute fought ferociously, but it was no match for their combined skills and determination.
Finally, with a collective effort, they brought the Ettin brute to its knees. It let out one final, guttural groan before succumbing to its wounds, its massive body crashing to the swampy ground.
Breathing heavily, Elrid wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling the weight of the near-fatal encounter settling in. He glanced at Enconeg and Agarth, the camaraderie between them evident in their shared victory.
"Well, that was a bit more excitement than I bargained for," Enconeg chuckled, wiping his daggers clean on the Ettin brute's torn hide.
Agarth nodded, his expression serious. "Indeed, but it seems we've dealt with the immediate threat. Let's tend to our wounds and then continue towards Dellach. We must find the answers we seek."
The trio sat together in front of the entrance to Dellach, the ruins looming before them like a relic of a forgotten age. Agarth's breathing was heavy and labored, his left shoulder still bleeding from the wound inflicted by the Ettin. Enconeg, with his experienced eye, examined the injury and began tending to it as best he could.
Elrid couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and concern for the Fateweaver. "You did well back there, Agarth, but you need to take it easy. We can't afford to have you collapsing on us," he said, his voice tinged with both gratitude and worry.
Agarth managed a weak smile. "Don't worry about me, lad. I've faced worse in my time. Besides, we have a mission to complete, and there's no time to rest." Despite his words, the weariness in his eyes betrayed the toll the battle had taken on him.
Elrid furrowed his brows, a mixture of frustration and concern welling up inside him. "But you can't go rushing in recklessly like this. We need you at your best if we're going to find the answers we seek, as you are the only one who actually knows what he's doing here!"
Agarth sighed and looked briefly to Enconeg then back to Elrid. "Bringing a stranger into our mission was a risk. We don't know if we can trust him."
Elrid's eyes hardened as he leaned in closer. "I trust him more than you think. Without him, I wouldn't have made it this far. He knows this swamp better than anyone, and his guidance has been invaluable." he defended his newfound friend. "You didn't exactly leave me with a map and a good description of how to find this place."
Enconeg, who had been quietly tending to Agarth's wound, chimed in. "Aye, the lad's right. I may be a stranger to you, but I'm not some greenhorn. I've seen my share of danger in this swamp, and I've managed to survive all these years."
Agarth looked between the two of them, his expression torn between skepticism and resignation. "Fine, I'll admit that you've proven yourself useful, Enconeg. But don't expect me to trust you blindly just yet. I..we... can't exactly tell you what we are doing here, and you are not to ask any questions."
Elrid and Enconeg nodded, appreciating Agarth's honesty. "Fair enough. We're all in this together now, and we need to work as a team if we're going to uncover the truth about Dellach." Elrid finished.
With a reluctant nod, Agarth finally conceded. "Very well, I suppose we have no choice but to trust each other for now. But mark my words, if you put us in any danger, I won't hesitate to deal with you."
Enconeg smirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You've got a fiery spirit, I'll give you that, Agarth. But rest assured, I won't let anything happen to you lot. We'll stick together and make it through this in one piece."
As the tension between them eased, Elrid felt a sense of relief. With the newfound agreement, they could now focus on their shared goal. Agarth seeing the the dispute ended, turned to Enconeg, just as he finished bandaging his wound. "Alright then, let's put our differences aside and get to know each other better. Enconeg, tell us about yourself."
The old fisherman recalled his story from earlier and told Agarth about his upbringing, and how he came to be.
"Glad to learn we have another skilled soldier with us. I'd definitely not say no to you." the Fateweaver said as he got up and turned to face the entrance to the great ruins that were waiting for them.
"Let's see if Fate will let us in on it's secrets..."
And with those words, the trio made it's way into Dellach.
Thanks for reading this chapter! Again, I cannot guarantee when I'll upload again and whether it'll have such a big hiatus, that is all dependent on my day-to-day work, and it sometimes can be overwhelming. I hope in the future I'll be more free to do this, as I do actually enjoy writing!