hey everyone! Sorry for the short wait of... what was it? Two years? LOL! Anyway, we're back with the chapter we definitely didn't write two years ago and never posted... Enjoy ;p
Wargals and Rangers all spun around trying to find the source of the voice. "Let's try to settle this without any bloodshed, yes?" the voice rang out again. The Wargals, their simple minds mostly unfazed from this new voice just looked around for its source. The rangers, however, were grimly sizing up the odds of a new unknown.
Despite his determination, Halt knew in his heart that Crowley and he were both exhausted. Just escaping the Wargals would be a hard task, but this new threat as well? For the first time in a while, Halt felt lost, he started to wish he'd agreed with Crowley and went back.
When the voice rang out again ordering everyone to drop their weapons, the Wargals looked like they had had enough. They angrily split into two groups, the first group started towards the rangers, while the second remained tense on the lookout for this new threat.
Halt sighed to himself, no, he thought. It was too late to turn back now.
Halt felt Crowley shift next to him and heard him whisper, "don't look now Halt, but some bushes to your left are shaking opposite the breeze." Halt rolled his eyes, "get your head screwed on straight Crowley," he whispered fiercely. "And start looking in front of yourself," jerking his head to the advancing Wargals.
Both Rangers simultaneously un-strung their bows, knocked an arrow, pulled back and…. Released.
The Wargals infuriated by the rapid waves of arrows whistling around their ears, let go of all hesitation and charged! Suddenly, it was all close-up with the two Rangers desperately swinging their Saxe knives, fighting for their lives.
After barely a minute, Crowley was covered in sweat. And despite all of his ranger training, he knew that both him and Halt could never repel so many Wargals in hand-to-hand combat. Yet he grimly fought on, wincing as a sword grazed his arm. He hated the fact that he would die, but even more so, the fact that his enemy would be satisfied with a job well done. At least, he thought to himself, he would be able to see Pritchard agai-. Crowley was broken away from his thoughts by another wave of Wargals eager to kill him.
It took Crowley a few minutes to realize something was wrong. First, Wargals backline had seemed to fade, while out of the corner of his eye he saw some sort of… shift in the air. Like something nearly invisible was shooting by, however, after a few moments of fighting, he scolded himself for imagining things.
Soon Crowley started to feel a faint ray of hope, he and Halt might make it out this mess in one piece. He lashed out again with renewed confidence, throwing his all into the fight, wargals falling left and right. And then the impossible had happened... it was over. He gave a satisfied grunt as his last opponent fell, eyes still looking dumbly at the knife wound in its chest.
Crowley looked up and saw Halt's head quivering around, his eyes showed him in deep concentration. Looking for that big mouth from before the fight?" Crowley asked, already sure of his correct answer.
Halt shook his head ever so slightly, "One of the Wargals got away." He said in barely a whisper.
"Huh?" asked Crowley his confused face cocked to one side.
"One of the Wargals got away," Halt repeated louder with a hint of annoyance in his tone.
Crowley shook his head, "That doesn't make sense?" he said curiously. "Wargals are only afraid of horses, certainly not two men with bows."
Halt nodded, and without breaking his concentration, continued. "That's what I was thinking."
Crowley raised an eyebrow, "WAS thinking?" he asked, his emphasis making the question obvious. Halt stopped his lookout for a second to glare at Crowley before resuming.
"It didn't run away," Halt said, in a tone one would use to explain something to a young child. "Just as the scales were tipping in our favor, it ran leaving its comrades to die."
"Wait!" Crowley interrupted, "A deserter? Why didn't you go after it?" He said in an accusatory tone. Halt gave a mirthless laugh, "And turn my back on God knows how many Wargals?" He told Crowley a little forcefully, "No way!
"After a few seconds of observation," Halt continued calmly, "I discovered it's hiding on one the top branches of that thick tree to your left.
Crowley yelped in surprise, and barely resisted the sudden urge to turn towards the tree Halt had described.
"So what's your plan?" Crowley whispered, "maybe we should-" he stopped suddenly as he noticed Halt's little smile.
"Most likely he plans to ambush us as soon as we go near that tree," Halt said looking pointedly at Crowley, "I'm thinking we go along with it's plan."
"What!" Crowley half yelled, "are you crazy why wou-" "The rest of Crowley's sentence was cut off as Halt's gloved hand slapped him across the face. "Have you lost your sense, shouting like that!" he whispered fiercely.
Crowley snorted, cheek still burning. "So, what is your plan?" he asked curiously.
Halt sighed, "as I already said, we let it jump down towards me," he glanced at Crowley. "And assuming I can rely on you, it should have an arrow through its heart long before it ever reaches me."
Crowley sighed, "I've called you crazy so many times it doesn't even pay to repeat it." He flicked an arrow out of his quiver and turned towards Halt, "Let's do it".
Halt gave him a slight nod, and as he turned towards the Wargal's hiding spot, his whole demeanor changed. Gone was the tense Halt with an arrow knocked ready to shoot. This Halt looked relaxed, even a little carefree.
Crowley tried to hide his tension and ignored the beads of sweat forming on his brow. His friend was putting a lot of faith in him and the slightest mistake on either of their parts could leave Halt crushed by a heavy Wargal body dead or alive. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Halt bend down in front of the tree, pretending to be deep in concentration studying some tracks.
And…. There it was! Crowley swung around and in one fluid movement, he released, sending an arrow in a perfect arc….. Crowley grunted in satisfaction as his arrow hit home, slamming into the Wargal's chest.
"Is that goo- "Crowley's brow furrowed as he realized Halt was no longer under the tree. "Halt?" he asked a little uncertainly, as his eyes scoured the clearing for his friend.
"HALT!" Crowley suddenly yelled, running towards the stiff form of his friend a few feet away. He crouched down at his friend's side, searching furiously for the cause of his fall. However, there was no sign of injury, he realized curiously.
Suddenly, there was a loud crack, and three figures seemingly appeared out of thin air, with raised voices.
"Seriously James!" one of them yelled, "What were you thinking?!" Another figure, James, Crowley assumed, yelled right back. "It was a simple mistake, ok?"
"Your aim is worse than Filch's," the third said disgustedly.
"Stop arguing!" Crowley yelled instantly gaining their attention, "Stop arguing, and tell me exactly what you've done to my friend." In his rage Crowley had nocked one of his razor-sharp arrows and had it at full draw, in the direction of the three men.
The tallest one of them slowly stepped forward. "I must apologize," he said in a sincere voice. But don't worry about your friend, it was a simple freezing spell that can easily be undone.
Crowley took a step back, "spell?" he asked, in utter confusion.
The first one to yell stepped forward again. Crowley eyed him in suspicion, he seemed to be the loudest of the group, with long black hair that reached his shoulders. "You expect us to believe you don't know what a spell is?" he scoffed, drawing a short stick and raising his arm to point it at Crowley.
"Relax Sirius," the tallest member said placing his hand on the stranger's arm. "We don't know anything about this world, except that the veil is some sort of gateway between it and our world. For all we know, magic doesn't even exist here." He then turned towards Crowley and asked "Can we have a – a little talk, to get our bearings?"
Crowley, not moving an inch, responded "First fix my friend," he said coldly. "And then we can talk."
The stranger held up his hands in a peaceful gesture "Fine by me." He pointed his stick at Halt, "Renervate" he muttered. A light flashed and Crowley sighed in relief as Halt jumped to his feet, and turned around to accept the men's offer to talk.
Halt however, had other plans. The second he was free he jumped up tackled one of the strangers, holding his Saxe knife against his throat.
"Relax Halt!" barked Crowley, a little surprised at Halt's outburst himself. He shook his head and lowered his tone. "They may not be friends, but they're certainly not enemies."
Halt looked back and forth from Crowley, to the men, to his hostage, and slowly he sheathed his knife and walked away.
"Good," the man Halt had threatened said, obviously relieved. "Now," he said as he stood up and gave them a quick grin. "I don't suppose you would mind if one more joined us?"
hehehe things are happening B)